Author: Momo Chan

Two hours ago, my husband, Robert, missed our anniversary dinner because he was working overtime. Two hours later, I saw him aggressively pursuing a young woman in an online live stream. “My name is Robert, I’m 32, 6’1″ tall, with eight-pack abs, five million dollars in assets, and most importantly, I’m single.” “My declaration of love is: I traveled far and wide to find the girl of my dreams. My money is hers, my heart is hers, my life is hers.” “Delia, will you come with me?” She blushed and nodded, their date a success. But I wasn’t angry at all. In my previous life, I tried everything to get him back home, telling him that woman had AIDS and he shouldn’t touch her. But he didn’t believe me. He even complained that I was ruining their good time, shoved me into a suitcase, and left me there to listen to them make love all night. In the end, I suffocated to death. This life, he could do whatever he wanted. I ended the live stream and immediately sent a message to the woman named Delia. “I’m Robert’s wife. He lied to you.” “I know you’re in it for the money. Get Robert to contract AIDS, and I’ll give you a million dollars.” In my previous life, I had thoroughly investigated this woman. She had a seriously ill younger brother and was desperate for money. So, I wasn’t afraid she wouldn’t agree. Sure enough, she replied. “Deal.” I turned off my phone, then picked up the untouched dinner and wine from the table and dumped them all into the trash. After Robert left that morning, I had sent our three children to my mom’s house for the night. I even went to the hair salon to get my hair styled and then to the grocery store to prepare a table full of his favorite dishes. All the things he loved to eat. If I hadn’t stumbled upon that live stream, I would have had no idea that my seemingly gentle and considerate husband was already itching to cheat. Nor would I have known that behind this seemingly perfect marriage was nothing but betrayal. At three in the morning, Robert came home, reeking of perfume. The table was already clean. He looked at the spotless surface and asked, “Didn’t we say we’d have dinner together?” In my previous life, I would have hysterically questioned where he’d been and why he smelled of perfume. But now, I couldn’t be bothered to ask. I just moved a little further away to avoid the scent. “Eating dinner at three in the morning? Are you crazy, or am I?” Robert froze, his brow furrowed slightly. “Why are you so snarky today? As a stay-at-home mom who doesn’t work, how could you understand the hardship of my overtime?” “I support you. What right do you have to question me?” I almost laughed. He called the three thousand dollars a month he gave me for living expenses “supporting me”? But saying these words would be useless. Seeing my silence, Robert realized his attitude was bad and quickly tried to smooth things over. “Alright, a last-minute business dinner delayed me today. Don’t be mad. Look, I brought you back your favorite oysters.” Hitting me with a stick, then offering a carrot, was Robert’s usual trick. In my previous life, I was fooled by this act, deluding myself into thinking he loved me. Looking back now, it was ridiculous. This man was rotten to the core! “You eat first, I’m going to shower.” Even after I heard the water running in the bathroom, I was still staring blankly at the handful of leftover oysters on the table, my eyes stinging. They clearly looked like someone else’s scraps. Why was I so naive back then that I couldn’t see through it? I fought back tears and unhesitatingly swept the oysters into the trash. Just then, his phone, which he’d left on the dining table, lit up. It was Delia. “Robert, I miss you so much. Let’s go to the hot springs together on Wednesday, okay?” Wednesday was tomorrow. After a hot spring trip, something happening was only natural. I was about to turn off the screen when Robert’s voice came from behind me, full of accusation. “Louise, is it polite to snoop through other people’s phones?” He angrily bumped into me, and I fell to the floor, scraping my elbow. Robert’s expression tightened, then he looked at me like I was an idiot. “You’re a thirty-year-old woman. Why are you still so clumsy?” After my previous life, I understood that saying one more word to a heartless man was a waste. I silently turned to get some ointment. Robert awkwardly took it from me. “I… I’ll help you.” “Louise, there’s something I need to tell you…” “My company ran into some financial trouble. I borrowed from loan sharks, and now I can’t pay it back. I don’t want to drag you and the kids down.” “How about… we get a fake divorce?” I sneered inwardly. What kind of financial trouble could his small company with just a few people have? This was just an excuse to pursue Delia and get rid of me and the children. “Oh.” Robert was choked, looking at me strangely. “You’re not angry?” I lowered my head and smiled, not answering. Angry? In my previous life, I would have been furious, then begged him not to divorce me, and finally used my private savings to pay off his debts. But now, I didn’t even care if he died, so why would I be angry over such a pathetic excuse? “When are we going to do the paperwork?” My quick agreement stunned Robert, and it took him a while to speak. “You…” “Louise, give me some time. I’ll definitely sort this out.” “Once the debt is paid off, we’ll get remarried.” “Don’t worry, the children and the house will be yours. I’ll just take the cash and leave.” “Even though you don’t have an income, your parents are both university professors. With their help, you and the children won’t starve.” Listening to his shameless words, my nails dug deep into my palms. All talk of righteousness, but a belly full of schemes. What did he mean, the house would be mine? This house was my pre-marital property! It was mine whether we divorced or not! At that moment, I truly wanted to rip off his ugly mask! But reason told me I had to endure. Before the divorce certificate was issued, even if we signed a divorce agreement, he could go back on his word at any time! I took a deep breath before speaking calmly. “Alright, I agree to the divorce.”

That day, we signed the divorce agreement. And Robert didn’t even bother to keep up appearances, grabbing his bank card and eagerly leaving. Less than ten minutes after he left, my phone chimed. He had updated a post on his alt account on Twitter. In my previous life, to win Robert back, I had investigated all his accounts. This alt account was what I discovered back then. This life, I followed that account immediately. “Guys! Successfully divorced the old hag! I’m taking all the money from the house!” “My new girlfriend invited me to the hot springs. This time, I’m definitely going to seal the deal!” “Oh, and I need to turn off my phone. What if the old hag changes her mind and ruins my fun?” “Guys, I’ll be back with good news!” Below, a bunch of people were commenting. “Awesome!” “Finding such a beautiful girlfriend, a true legend!” Some also said he was too cruel. “You scumbag, did you even think about how your wife and children will live?” His disdainful tone practically oozed from the screen. “She gave birth to them, she takes care of them, that’s how it should be.” “Besides, those two little bastards cost at least ten thousand a month for formula alone, and I only give her three thousand. She’s doing just fine. She must have private savings.” So, he knew the household expenses… All these years, I understood his struggles with starting a business and never argued with him. I always used the money my parents secretly gave me to supplement our household expenses. I never imagined he was doing it on purpose! I was so angry that I couldn’t stand it. I switched to my alt account and questioned him. “How can you do this to your wife and children? Aren’t you afraid you’ll truly break her heart and she’ll actually divorce you?” He quickly retorted. “Afraid of what? A worn-out, thirty-year-old hag with two kids? Do you want her? If you do, I’ll let you have her for a few days!” Watching his despicable words, my hands trembled with rage. Five years of dating, four years of marriage. I thought that even if the love between us faded, we would still be the closest people to each other. I never thought that in his eyes, I was worse than a prostitute! At that moment, the last shred of hesitation I had because of the children completely vanished. Robert, between us, it’s war till the death! Suddenly, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Louise, your friend John just told me that Robert’s company will still get this project. It’s a big one.” “He’ll earn more, and your family can have an easier life.” Robert didn’t know that all these years, most of his clients were brought in by my dad, who would humble himself to his old friends. Because Robert was a severe chauvinist, I never told him any of this. In the end, I had raised an ungrateful jerk. On the phone, my dad continued, “I’m old now. I don’t ask for anything, I just hope my children and grandchildren are happy and safe.” Listening to my dad’s words, my tears couldn’t hold back any longer. I spilled everything. My dad was furious, cursing Robert as an animal. “Didn’t he say his company was in crisis? Then let it *really* be in crisis!” My dad immediately called everyone he knew, telling them to cancel their collaborations with Robert’s company. In just a few days, the company collapsed. His assistant frantically tried to reach him, but he couldn’t be contacted. After all, he was still blissfully enjoying his wine and fine dining trip. Meanwhile, Delia sent me a message. “Done.” “Seven nights in a row, three times each night.” Along with the message came a video. In the video, Robert lay on a beach chair, his hand wrapped around a woman’s waist, lost in passionate embrace. I gripped my phone, momentarily stunned. I couldn’t tell if I felt relief or sorrow. When we first got married, Robert and I had a wonderful relationship. It was also on a beach that he swore he would only ever have me, that he wouldn’t be interested in anyone else. I never imagined that in just four short years, everything would change. Indeed, a man’s promises only last the moment they are spoken. At this moment, I suddenly felt that I had been utterly foolish in my previous life. But it didn’t matter. Since heaven gave me a second chance, I would collect my due, with interest! As promised, I transferred a million dollars to her, then sent her another message. “Let’s discuss another deal…”

The day we went to get the divorce certificate, Robert, who was usually late, appeared on time. Also with him were my in-laws, Ruth and Andrew, who hadn’t visited once since the children were born. My mother-in-law, Ruth, grabbed my hand, wailing dramatically. “Louise, we only found out today that Robert did such a terrible thing!” “Don’t worry, even if you’re divorcing, you’ll still be our daughter-in-law.” Ruth cried so sincerely that an outsider might actually believe she cared for me. But I knew this family was always hypocritical. In my previous life, I also thought my in-laws truly loved me and treated them with the same devotion as my own parents. But it wasn’t until my brutal death, when they came to help dismember my body, that I realized they had known about Robert’s affair all along. Many times, they even helped him cover it up! Seeing that I didn’t respond, Ruth couldn’t cry anymore and awkwardly wiped away her tears. “Louise, speaking of which, you two are husband and wife. With the company in trouble, you can’t just ignore it…” “How about we sell this house to pay off Robert’s debts? He’ll clear the money sooner, and you two can get remarried sooner, right?” “As for you and the children… Aren’t your parents both professors? Their retirement pensions must be substantial, right? Why not ask them for some money to help out in a pinch?” My father-in-law, Andrew, also slapped Robert on the shoulder and chimed in. “You bastard! Louise has always been kind-hearted, and she’ll definitely agree this time. If you don’t treat her well in the future, I’ll be the first to deal with you!” They had it all figured out, didn’t they? With just a few words, they made decisions for me, as if I were just a pawn in their game. Robert saw my silence, breathed a sigh of relief, and, feigning emotion, took my hand. “Louise, I know you’re the best to me. Marrying you is the blessing of my life.” “Don’t worry, once this is over, I’ll definitely make it up to you.” I coldly watched their family performance, an endless chill rising in my heart. This whole family was not only insatiably greedy but also heartless and rotten to the core! But soon, they would pay back every penny, with interest! I composed myself and took out my phone to show them the transaction record. “I’ve already sold the house. Once we get the divorce certificate…” Before I could finish, the whole family beamed with joy, praising me for being sensible. Even the clerk processing the divorce seemed confused, wondering why such a loving family was divorcing. Laugh all you want. The happier you laugh now, the uglier it will look later! As soon as we stepped out of City Hall, Robert looked at me expectantly. “Louise, now that we’ve got the certificate, the money…” I turned around, a faint smile playing on my lips. “Robert, when did I ever say that money was for you?”

Robert froze, his face instantly changing. “Louise, are you messing with me?!” I raised an eyebrow, an expression on my face that said, *you finally get it*. “I only said I sold the house. I never said I was giving you the money from the sale.” “How shamelessly greedy you are. Did you really take me for a fool?” Then, I opened my phone and showed him the saved live stream replay. “And, did you enjoy the hot springs?” The three of them completely changed color, looking at me as if they wanted to swallow me whole. I completely ignored them, put away my divorce certificate, and turned to leave. Suddenly, Ruth blocked my path. “Louise, you can’t be so heartless.” “Robert made a mistake, but it was just a mistake that all men make.” “How many men these days don’t cheat? As women, shouldn’t we just turn a blind eye?” “Besides, Robert’s heart is still with you. Isn’t that enough?” Andrew joined in. “Exactly! Think about it, who would want a divorced woman with children like you?” I sneered, not bothering to listen to their rambling. “Since you’re so tolerant, remember to advise yourself that way when Andrew cheats in the future.” “As for whether someone wants me, that’s none of your business. If you block me again, I’ll call the police.” Robert saw that I was determined not to turn back and his eyes reddened with anger. “Louise, do you really think I can’t live without you?” “To be honest, you disgust me! I love Delia now. Delia is gentle, kind, and beautiful, a hundred times better than you!” “And, she’s pregnant with my child. We’ve checked, it’s a boy.” “Tomorrow, tomorrow we’re going to get married!” “Without me, you’re just a nobody, a middle-aged woman with three children, no job, no social experience. I’d like to see how happy you can be!” To prove his point, he even turned on his phone and tried to make a video call. Unfortunately, it only showed a red exclamation mark. “How is that possible! Delia must have accidentally deleted it!” Then, he started calling again. This time, it connected. “Robert, you’re not that naive, are you? I was just playing with you.” “As for the baby, I was just talking nonsense. I work at a club, I got an IUD long ago. How could I be pregnant?” “Goodbye, Mr. Early Ejaculation.” With that, Robert’s number was completely blocked. Robert was furious, desperately trying to call again. But all he heard was, “The number you have dialed is currently switched off.” I stifled a laugh and kindly reminded him. “Instead of calling and harassing other people, why don’t you call your assistant back?” “Oh, and a reminder, go get yourself checked out.”

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On my 23rd birthday, Alex handed me a paper bag. I opened it to find a set of incredibly revealing lace lingerie. He kept his head down, avoiding my gaze, and said casually, “That guy plays too rough in bed. Juliet won’t survive him. You just need to spend one night with him. Just one night, and when you come back, we’ll get married.” Juliet was his first love, the one who had saved his life, and for her, he was, for the first time, swallowing his pride and begging me. “I won’t look down on you. I’ll make it up to you, twice over.” My fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly my knuckles turned white, but I forced a smile. “Fine. I just had a full body treatment. You can have him come over tonight.” Alex frowned at my words. “If you don’t want to, you can just say so. I’ll figure out another way. You don’t have to be so sarcastic.” I paused, slightly stunned. “I’m serious. The Velvet Club trained me well. Before a client, it was always a full beauty treatment so my skin would feel smooth and soft.” I replayed my words in my head, not thinking I’d said anything wrong. But Alex wasn’t pleased. He put down the shrimp he had just peeled. “I truly see you as my partner, Elara. You don’t need to bring up that past again.” I knew his words couldn’t be taken seriously. If he truly meant that, he wouldn’t have asked me to do something like this. My senior’s warning echoed in my mind, “Once you walk through Nightfall’s doors, you’re Nightfall’s forever.” Alex looked at me, then suddenly reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Elara, let’s get married. I’ll give you the grandest wedding imaginable.” I understood why he was suddenly saying this. He was only offering the wedding as compensation. I knew I should be happy. I had waited five years for this wedding. But at that moment, I wasn’t as joyful as I’d anticipated. Still, I nodded hard, smiling at him. “Will you stay with me all day today?” He didn’t know it was my birthday, or the anniversary of the day I first met him. “I’m not going anywhere today,” Alex smiled back, stroking my head, about to pull me into a hug. But his phone suddenly rang. My hearing was excellent. I could hear Juliet’s tearful voice on the other end. Alex instinctively pushed me away, ready to leave. Then he remembered what he had just promised me. He hesitated for the first time. But Alex quickly made his choice. “Something came up at the office that needs me to go back. You should go to bed early too. Don’t wait up.” He didn’t need to lie to me. From the day Juliet returned, I knew that Juliet and I couldn’t be compared in his heart. But I just nodded calmly, desperately trying to ignore the needle-sharp pain in my chest. I shouldn’t ask for so much. Being with Alex should be enough. We met at The Velvet Club. I sold myself to Nightfall as soon as I turned eighteen. That was my first day of work. I was wearing a revealing bunny girl outfit, trembling as I followed others into the VIP room to pour drinks. My stockings were snagged, but I couldn’t bear to throw them away. Instead, it was taken as a clever trick to entice clients. Just as I was being held in someone’s arms, about to be kissed, Alex, who had been silent, spoke up and told them to leave me with him. From then on, I stayed by his side. Alex always seemed cold and aloof, but he always had a faint smile just for me. I thought I was special, but it wasn’t until Juliet appeared that I truly understood. Only for her would Alex fight recklessly, get drunk, and wait below her apartment until dawn. Only for her would he eagerly share even the sight of a flower blooming. The childish behaviors he once scorned were simply because he hadn’t met *that* person yet. Before, I might have still harbored fantasies, thinking that one day we would be together. But now, I only wanted to repay his kindness. I made a birthday wish alone. After this, I would no longer owe Alex anything.

For three consecutive days, Alex didn’t come home. But the people he’d hired had already begun preparing for the wedding. After all, it was something I had longed for for five years. I wanted to wear that wedding dress before I left. On the third evening, he finally returned, bringing Juliet with him. He offered no explanation for his three-day disappearance. “Juliet will be staying with us from today. I’ve asked Maya to prepare the guest room for you.” Juliet was so frail, a delicate wisp of a girl, making anyone want to reach out and protect her. She walked behind Alex, softly greeting me. “Excuse me for intruding, Mrs. Alex.” Both Alex and I were taken aback by the address. Alex was the first to speak. “Just call her Elara.” I knew I had no right to act like the lady of the house in front of Juliet. After a calm and polite nod, I was about to retreat to my room. But then a frantic patter of paws approached. Wolf, who hadn’t seen Alex in three days, was excitedly rushing towards him. This, however, caused Juliet’s face to go pale. She gripped Alex’s hand tightly, scared. “Alex, I’m scared!” Seeing the newcomer, Wolf circled her once. Perhaps he liked her scent, as he tried to nuzzle up to Juliet. Juliet burst into tears instantly, burying her face in Alex’s embrace. Alex wrapped one arm around Juliet, while reprimanding Wolf. “Get lost! Elara, take your dog away!” He kicked Wolf hard, sending him tumbling several times across the floor before he stopped. Wolf didn’t understand why his usually kind dad had suddenly kicked him. He just stared blankly, letting out a whimper. I rushed over and scooped Wolf into my arms. “Wolf, are you okay? Does it hurt? Don’t scare me.” Wolf was a stray dog I had found. That winter, I had no money for heating in my rented apartment, and I was burning with a fever, close to freezing to death. It was Wolf who kept me warm with his small body. Wolf was getting old, and the vet had warned me to be prepared for his passing at any time. My emotions spiraled out of control, and for the first time, I yelled at Alex. “He’s so small, why did you kick him?!” Alex froze after kicking him, wanting to speak, but Juliet interrupted. Juliet was sobbing, her words catching in her throat, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I overreacted.” “That place was full of dog barks, I just had a bit of a panic attack.” Juliet had a gambling father who even used her as collateral at the casino. She had endured many hardships to escape the casino, eventually meeting Alex. The casino owner had his eyes on Juliet, demanding she spend a night with him to clear the debt. That casino had deep connections, operating in both legal and illegal spheres, even Alex was wary of him. Juliet suddenly began breathing rapidly, unable to catch her breath. Alex forgot everything else, scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. “Call a doctor, quickly!” It was chaos, and no one paid any attention to me. Wolf kept whimpering softly, his leg bent at an unnatural angle. I tried to ask for help. “Wolf seems to be hurt. Can someone take me to the hospital?” But everyone was rushing around for Juliet, no one noticed me. Some even rolled their eyes. “Can’t you see what’s going on, Elara? Is your dog more precious than Juliet?” “Forget a dog, even if it were *you* in trouble today, you’d have to step aside.” Wolf’s whimpers grew fainter. I couldn’t wait any longer. I carried Wolf and started walking down the hill to find help. Alex’s mansion was secluded on a hillside outside the city. Cars were rare, and there were no streetlights. It was completely silent, except for Wolf’s tiny whimpers. I ignored my fear, desperately pleading with the heavens for him to be safe. I had so little. Please don’t take Wolf away too. I walked for three hours in the dark before reaching a hospital. The doctor said Wolf was lucky, it was just a fracture, no other issues. A wave of relief washed over me, then a sharp pain shot up from my feet. I looked down and saw huge blisters, the size of beans, covering my soles.

I returned home with Wolf, and just as I was about to enter my room, someone stopped me. “Last night, Juliet had an asthma attack. In a panic, Mr. Alex carried her into the master bedroom.” “The doctor said Juliet needs quiet rest right now, so you’ll have to stay in the guest room temporarily.” Hearing her words, my heart felt a sharp, piercing pain. But I hadn’t slept all night and was utterly exhausted. I had no energy left to argue. It wasn’t like I hadn’t stayed in the guest room before. When I first came to Alex’s house, I lived in the guest room for three years. Alex’s wedding planner arrived. Today was the day to try on wedding dresses. She brought over a dozen dresses, but the guest room was small. There was no space for them, so they ended up piled haphazardly on the floor. After finally managing to put one on, I couldn’t even see the full effect of the dress. I simply moved all the wedding dresses to the living room. As I was trying on a gown, Alex and Juliet walked in from outside. Juliet had a smile on her face, showing no signs of yesterday’s illness. Seeing me in the wedding dress, Juliet sincerely praised me. “What a beautiful gown, it suits you so well.” Then, an envious look crossed her face, and she murmured, “Every woman dreams of wearing a wedding dress. I might never have that day.” Alex, who had been looking at me with a slightly lost expression, immediately frowned at her words. “Isn’t the room big enough for you to try them on? Why bring them to the living room? Trying to show off to someone?” The excitement I’d felt just moments ago, putting on the dress, largely dissipated. I never imagined that Alex’s first words to me would be these. “What are you standing there for? Go take it off.” I had imagined Alex’s reaction countless times when I wore a wedding dress, but this was never one of them. I didn’t argue, silently returning to the room to change out of the dress. When I came out, Juliet had already gone back to her room. Only Alex remained, head bowed, lost in thought. I looked around, not seeing Wolf, who usually lay nearby. He had injured his leg, so he shouldn’t be wandering off. A bad feeling flashed through my mind, and I started calling his name loudly. Alex stopped me. “Juliet just went back to rest. Don’t disturb her.” I stared into his eyes and asked, “Where’s Wolf?” He averted his gaze. “I’ve increased the wedding budget by another eighty million. Everything will be set up exactly as you wanted.” “As for Wolf, I found him a very good home. He’ll be much happier there than here.” At his words, I stumbled, falling heavily to the floor. Alex moved to help me up, but I grabbed his hand, pressing for an answer. “What do you mean?” “Elara has a phobia of dogs now, and she has asthma. Doctors don’t recommend having dogs in the house.” He let go of my hand. “But you know what Wolf means to me!” “I can take him somewhere else, I don’t want the wedding, I don’t want anything anymore.” I desperately assured Alex that Wolf and I would not appear in front of him. But Alex shook his head, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. “You can’t leave. Juliet still needs you.” “There are already whispers that Toby is returning.” Toby was Juliet’s creditor, the most powerful casino magnate, period. “He’s coming back for Juliet. We don’t have time.” This time, Alex used more force to pull me up, letting me lean against his chest. “Before he gets back, I’ll give you the grandest wedding. Everyone will know that you are Alex’s wife.” I saw Wolf’s favorite ball still scattered on the floor and felt the world spin. My vision went black, and I passed out. When I woke up, Alex excitedly pulled me into his arms. “You’re pregnant! You’re having our baby.” He had completely lost his composure, excited like a child. “If she’s a girl, she’ll be as beautiful as you.” But my face was expressionless, devoid of any first-time mother’s joy. This child was not born of love. The sound of shattering glass broke the silence. Juliet stood at the doorway, forcing a pale smile. “Congratulations, truly.” Alex instinctively pushed me away. “Juliet…” “Alex, you don’t need to worry about me anymore. What’s most important now is taking care of Elara. I’ll handle my own affairs.” Juliet bowed to Alex, tears tracing her cheeks. “Thank you for your trouble before.” With that, she turned and ran. Alex forgot everything, leaving me with a hurried “Get some rest” before rushing out. I moved out of the guest room but didn’t return to the master bedroom. The house staff redecorated a room for me, identical to the original master bedroom. Alex didn’t return for a week.

He looked much more haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. Alex didn’t look at me. He took a deep breath and spoke. “Now isn’t the time. Toby is coming back soon.” “Get rid of the child, and I’ll grant you any wish.” “I want Wolf back.” I spoke without hesitation. Alex hesitated for a moment, then agreed. He muttered, “We’ll have other children,” and then quickly fled, as if he couldn’t bear it. The surgery was quick. Aside from the drilling pain in my stomach, it was as if the child had never existed. Alex and Juliet came to see me together. The first thing I asked him when I saw him was when Wolf would be back. “I’ve already arranged for someone to pick him up. Just focus on recovering.” A hint of impatience flashed across his brow. Juliet, however, offered an explanation. “Alex has been incredibly busy with work lately. He hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in days.” As she spoke, she opened the thermos she’d brought. “This is a soup I stewed. Elara, drink it while it’s hot, it’s really good for you.” Oil slicks floated on the surface of the soup, making it look greasy. I had no appetite whatsoever. Juliet put down the bowl with a look of disappointment. “I understand if you don’t want to drink something I made, but I really stewed this soup for a long time. I just don’t want it to go to waste.” Alex immediately spoke up. “It’s just a bowl of soup. Drink it.” I thought of Wolf, still in his hands, and didn’t want to provoke him. I could only force myself to drink it, swallowing the nausea. Juliet considerately handed me a tissue. As she did, she leaned close and whispered in my ear. “How was Wolf’s flavor?” For a moment, I barely understood what she meant. I turned my head, staring at her. A smile played on her lips. “You raised Wolf so well. His meat made a big bowl of soup.” Understanding dawned on me, and I flung the bowl away, almost frantically, gripping Juliet’s neck with all my strength. “What did you say?! Say it again!” Alex clamped down on my arm, striking my face with a harsh slap before I let go. “Are you out of your mind?!” I calmed down. “Where is Wolf now?” I grabbed Alex. He was my last hope. Alex carefully checked Juliet’s marks before looking at me. “I told you he’s fine. Why are you suddenly acting crazy?!” “Let me see him. I need to see him now.” My voice was tearful, almost pleading. Alex had never seen me like this. He pulled out his phone and made a call. But after connecting, his expression suddenly changed. My heart panicked, and I reached to snatch his phone. Alex held me back fiercely. “Elara, Wolf was already very old. He died peacefully in his sleep. You can’t blame anyone.” Juliet stood not far away, watching my disheveled state, a secretive smile playing on her lips. Alex had someone inject me with a large dose of tranquilizers. I seemed to finally calm down, accepting Wolf’s death. Over the next few days, I was completely obedient to Alex’s arrangements. Tomorrow was our wedding. After the wedding, I would be sent to Toby. “This is my family’s heirloom diamond bracelet. It’s only passed down to the wife after marriage.” Alex handed me a box. “After all this is over, I’ll go with you to pick out another dog. We’ll have our own children.” Alex began to paint a picture of his imagined future. “The children will chase the puppy around, the house will be so lively.” I didn’t open the box, closing my eyes halfway. “I need to rest. I have an early start tomorrow.” Alex didn’t notice anything amiss. “Elara, you’ll be the most beautiful bride tomorrow.”

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At the celebration banquet for my promotion to Director, I was just about to give my speech. A usually quiet male colleague suddenly interrupted me. “Miss Harper, congratulations!” “But I noticed your walking posture hasn’t been quite right lately. The gap between your legs has widened by at least two fingers.” “Is it because things got too intense in bed at night, leaving you unable to close your legs properly?” As he spoke, his eyes lecherously scanned my lower body. The private room instantly fell silent, followed by knowing laughter from everyone present. “I knew her rapid promotion wasn’t normal. The Chairman is eighteen years older than her—exactly the type of woman he likes.” “No wonder he always calls her into his office alone, and they stay there for two hours at a time. Turns out they were doing that…” Mr. Richard Harper awkwardly tried to explain, but I stopped him with a raised hand. I stared at my male colleague, smiling instead of showing anger. “I don’t know if the gap between my legs is wide or not, but I do know that eighteen years ago, Mr. Harper did something significant.”

Kyle froze for a moment, then burst into laughter, his gaze sweeping back and forth between me and Richard Harper. He slapped his thigh, laughing uproariously. “Miss Harper just confessed without even being pressed!” “You even know intimate details about Mr. Harper’s private life from eighteen years ago? Looks like this relationship has been going on for quite some time.” He paused, his gaze shifting toward Richard Harper’s lower body. “Seems like you even know exactly how many hairs Mr. Harper has down there.” The private room erupted in laughter, with several male colleagues exchanging knowing glances. “Kyle, you just don’t get it. Miss Harper here is demonstrating her core competitive advantage!” “Exactly! We work ourselves to death chasing sales targets, but Miss Harper just needs to spread her legs.” “What do you call that? That’s called winning while lying down!” Mr. Richard Harper’s face flushed red instantly. He slammed his wine glass on the table. Just as he was about to stand up, I pressed down on his hand under the table. I shook my head at him. I swirled the wine in my glass, looking at Kyle. Seeing Mr. Harper remain silent, Kyle approached me reeking of smoke and alcohol. He held a pair of greasy forks, gesturing left and right toward the area between my thighs. “Miss Harper, since we’re all so familiar now, there’s no need to be coy.” As the fork tips were about to touch my skirt hem, he narrowed his eyes. “Come on, share your experience with the guys.” “Just how wide do your legs need to spread to jump three levels in three months?” “Looking at this gap, I bet you could fit two forks in there with room to spare, right?” “Did Mr. Harper’s size stretch you out that badly?” Some female colleagues looked down, while others curled their lips in disgust. “Kyle.” I suddenly spoke. “What? Has Miss Harper come to her senses? Going to give us a demonstration?” Kyle smirked as he leaned closer. Splash!! I backhanded my glass of red wine directly into Kyle’s face. Wine dripped down his hair, flowing into his eyes and nostrils. “Ahh!! My eyes!” Kyle screamed, covering his face as he stumbled backward, his lower back knocking over a chair. “Fuck! You dare throw wine at me?!” I pulled out a tissue and wiped my hands, looking at him coldly. “Kyle, your mouth is so filthy, someone needs to clean it out.” “If I hear one more word of garbage from you, next time it won’t be wine I throw in your face—it’ll be acid.” Kyle roughly wiped his face, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes. “Evelyn Harper! You whore!” He pointed at my nose. “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re just a slut who slept her way to the top!” “A bitch like you—Mr. Harper is just playing with you for novelty!” “When he gets bored, you’ll be nothing!” “Security!” Richard Harper kicked his chair back. “Throw this trash who can’t keep his mouth shut out of here! Now! Immediately!” Kyle looked at Richard Harper and suddenly let out a strange laugh, his gaze shifting between the two of us. “Oh, oh! So Mr. Harper is protecting his little mistress now?” “Fine, I’ll leave!” “But I’m telling you both—this isn’t over!” “Our company may be private, but we don’t tolerate this kind of dirty business!” “Let’s see how you explain this to Mr. Harper’s wife!” He was dragged out by security. Before leaving, he glanced back at me, silently mouthing, “Wait.”

After everyone dispersed, Richard Harper had the driver bring the car to the back entrance. The atmosphere in the car was heavy. He handed me a bottle of water. “Evelyn…” “I shouldn’t have let him humiliate you like that just now.” I didn’t take the water, staring at the retreating streetscape outside the window. “If you fire him now, you’d actually be harming me.” Richard Harper’s hand froze in midair. “But he…” “He’s an old hand in the sales department, holding several major clients.” I turned my head. “If you fire him now because of me, what will people in the company think?” “Besides, just firing him won’t satisfy my need for revenge.” Richard Harper sighed. “So what do you plan to do?” I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. “Let him make a scene. Those whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.” “If I don’t send him to prison, my name isn’t Evelyn Harper.” The car drove out of the alley. In the rearview mirror, I saw a figure hiding behind a trash can, flashing something at the car. The next morning. The receptionist kept her head down, pretending to organize files. As I passed the break room, the whispered conversations stopped abruptly, followed by mocking laughter. “Look, there’s that gold-digging slut with legs two fingers apart.” “Shameless. That was Mr. Harper’s car last night, wasn’t it? Getting in his car late at night.” “And they went to that secluded spot on Back Street.” “I heard Kyle got so angry he fell ill. This woman will do anything to climb the ladder.” “She even dares to bully a veteran from our sales department. All legs, no brains.” I walked straight toward the Director’s office. Pushing open the door, my steps halted. My desk was a complete mess. Written on the desk in red permanent marker were large characters: “Gold Digger,” “Bitch,” “Whore.” A doctored AI image was pasted on the monitor screen—my face photoshopped onto a naked body. Below it read: $500 per night, first choice for promotions and raises. Scattered across the keyboard and mouse pad were torn condom wrappers and some sticky fluid. I clenched my fists. “Oh my, Miss Harper, what’s wrong?” “Did one of your sugar daddies get too enthusiastic last night and leave something behind?” I turned around. Kyle was leaning against the doorframe, twirling a ruler in his hand with a gloating expression. Behind him, colleagues crowded together to watch the spectacle. I looked at the intern, Madison. She was holding coffee. Our eyes met briefly before she looked away. She turned and poured the coffee into the trash can. “Oops, this coffee is dirty. Can’t serve it to people.” “Kyle, did you do this?” I pointed at the desk and asked. Kyle shrugged. “Hey, you can’t just make accusations.” “I’m just passing by. Probably some vigilante who couldn’t stand your behavior and decided to deliver justice.” He walked toward me with the ruler. “But Miss Harper, since everyone’s so curious, why don’t you satisfy everyone’s curiosity?” He approached me and suddenly crouched down, extending the steel ruler toward my skirt! “Come on, let’s measure on the spot and see if it’s really two fingers wide!” “Let everyone see just what it takes to land a five-million-dollar deal!” “Ahh!!” Someone in the crowd shrieked. I lifted my foot and stomped hard on Kyle’s wrist with my high heel! Crack. “Oww!!!” Kyle screamed, and the steel ruler flew from his hand. Covered in cold sweat, he clutched his wrist and rolled on the floor. “She’s hitting people! She’s killing me! The slut is hitting people!” He cried out to those around him. “Everyone look! This is guilt! She’s lashing out in humiliation!” HR Manager Victoria pushed through the crowd and entered. “Evelyn Harper! Have you lost your mind?!”

She didn’t even glance at the words on my desk, rushing straight to Kyle’s side to help him up. “As a Director, assaulting a colleague in the company—this is extremely serious!” Victoria pointed at me. “Evelyn Harper, on behalf of the company, I’m issuing you a severe warning!” “Apologize to Kyle immediately and compensate him for medical expenses! Otherwise I’m calling the police!” “Call the police? Fine, go ahead!” I pulled out my phone, opened the camera, and aimed it at my desk, the lens sweeping across every person watching the spectacle. “Perfect timing for the police to see who’s sexually harassing whom, who destroyed property, and who insulted my dignity!” Victoria’s expression changed. She lowered her voice. “Evelyn Harper, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because Mr. Harper has your back!” “Mr. Harper has a reputation to maintain! If this blows up and the police come, the media will expose it.” “People will only say Mr. Harper’s mistress was hitting people at the company!” “When that happens, you’ll see whether Mr. Harper protects you or protects the company!” Richard Harper strode down the corridor with a dark expression. The crowd automatically parted. Seeing Richard Harper, Kyle forgot about his hand pain and crawled over to hug his legs. “Mr. Harper! You must give me justice!” “I was just showing concern for Miss Harper, and she kicked my hand until it broke! How can someone like this be a Director!” “You can’t indulge her just because she’s your… you know!” Richard Harper’s chest heaved, his gaze moving between me and the words on the desk. Just as he was about to speak, I gave him a look. Richard Harper forcibly swallowed his anger. “Security! Take Kyle to my office! I have questions for him!” “Also, clean this place up!” “Anyone else who gossips gets fired!” Richard Harper hauled Kyle away. Less than ten minutes later, a new version spread through the company’s private chat groups. Kyle sent a voice message. “Guys, I’m fine! Mr. Harper called me in to placate me!” “He even praised me for being sensible, said that woman is good in bed and he’s not done playing with her yet, told me to be patient for now.” “He said as long as I don’t make this public, he’ll transfer her away next month, and then everyone will get to enjoy her!” The voice message played on speaker, clearly audible throughout the entire office. Countless gazes stabbed into my back. I sat at my cleaned desk, fingers tapping the keyboard lightly. The screen reflected my cold eyes. That evening, the notoriously lecherous supplier, Mr. Davis, arrived. Kyle uncharacteristically came to my office and slammed a file on my desk. “Miss Harper, Mr. Davis specifically asked to see you.” “He said he’s heard our company’s newly appointed Director is a great beauty, and tonight you must personally handle the negotiation.” “Otherwise he won’t sign this five-million-dollar contract.” Kyle’s wrist was wrapped in gauze, his face full of wrinkled smiles. “This is a key project for the company this year, and Mr. Harper values it highly.” “Miss Harper, you’re so capable—this kind of situation shouldn’t be difficult for you, right?” I closed the file and smiled at him. “Since Kyle thinks so highly of me, I’ll definitely secure this contract.” Kyle froze, then snorted coldly and walked out.

That evening, at the Regal Club. Mr. Davis’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me. He pushed away the woman beside him and patted the empty seat. “Oh, so this is the beautiful Miss Harper! You’re even more charming in person than in photos!” “No wonder Richard keeps you hidden away and won’t bring you out. Come, come, sit next to me!” Kyle poured me a full glass of wine. “Miss Harper, Mr. Davis is our golden goose. You need to keep him happy.” “Once Mr. Davis is happy, the contract is a done deal.” Mr. Davis understood, grabbing my hand and stroking the back of it. “I heard Miss Harper has excellent business capabilities, and your nighttime services are quite skilled too?” “Kyle told me you’re particularly… uninhibited?” Laughter filled the room. I suppressed my disgust, withdrew my hand, and picked up the wine glass. “Mr. Davis, you jest. Let me toast you, hoping for pleasant cooperation in the future.” “Eh, drinking is boring.” Mr. Davis pressed down on my glass and leaned in, reeking of alcohol. “Let’s do something more exciting.” “I’ve long heard about Miss Harper’s legendary leg skills. Kyle says those legs of yours are particularly good at gripping.” “How about this—you perform a split on this table right here, and I’ll sign the contract immediately.” Kyle egged him on. “Exactly! We’re all friends here, why put on an act?” “The gap’s already open—what difference does spreading them one more time make?” “As long as you satisfy Mr. Davis, I guarantee I’ll look after you at the company.” Sensing something was wrong, I quickly pressed the record button on the voice recorder in my pocket. To be safe, I also sent a message to my emergency contact. “Mr. Davis, I’m here to discuss business, not to perform.” “If you’re not sincere, we don’t need to sign this contract.” “Stop pretending!” Mr. Davis suddenly stood up, grabbed my hair, and yanked my head back. “Playing hard to get, are you? A used slut acting all high and mighty!” “I’m going to inspect the merchandise today and see if you’re worth the price!” His other hand reached for my collar to tear it! I grabbed the wine bottle and smashed it on Mr. Davis’s bald head with a crash! Mr. Davis screamed and collapsed on the sofa, clutching his head and rolling around. Kyle was stunned, not even noticing the cigarette that fell from his mouth onto his pants. I gripped the broken bottle neck, pointing it at Kyle who wanted to rush forward. “Move one more step and I’ll stab anyone who comes near!” I threw down the broken bottle, straightened my clothes, and turned to run out of the room. But before I could touch the door handle, a sharp pain shot through my scalp! “Bitch! Hit Mr. Davis and think you can run?!” Kyle grabbed my hair and violently dragged me back to the center of the room. “Hold her down!” Mr. Davis, clutching his bloody head, also pounced on me, pressing me hard to the floor. I struggled desperately, but was pinned down firmly by the two men. They violently tore open my jacket. “Acting like some virtuous woman! I’m going to inspect the goods right here in front of everyone today!” Mr. Davis’s eyes were bloodshot, and his filthy hands were about to completely tear my shirt. I tried to scream in terror, but Kyle covered my mouth tightly. “BANG!” Just then, the heavy door of the room was violently kicked open from outside! A woman in an elegant dress, exuding an air of authority, strode into the room radiating coldness. Behind her followed more than a dozen bodyguards in black. Kyle froze for a moment. But after seeing who it was, not only did he show no guilt, he rushed forward like he’d found a savior, his face full of flattery. “Mrs. Harper! You’re finally here!” He pointed at me, disheveled on the floor, and shouted: “Mrs. Harper, I’ve been wanting to report this to you!” “This vixen is using her looks to seduce Mr. Harper!” “She’s a cancer in our company—you must eliminate this threat to the company!” Mr. Davis and the hostesses outside the room all stopped, ready to watch the spectacle of the legitimate wife tearing apart the mistress. Mrs. Susan Harper walked up to me. She saw my torn clothes and my legs covered in bruises from struggling. The room instantly fell silent. Kyle clenched his fists and laughed viciously. “Hit her! Beat this shameless…” SLAP!!! A loud crack. Kyle’s face instantly swelled on one side, his lip split and bleeding. He covered his face, looking at Susan Harper in disbelief. “Mrs… Mrs. Harper… you hit the wrong person, right?” “I’m helping you! That vixen is…” SLAP! Susan Harper backhanded another slap, and a tooth flew out mixed with blood and saliva. She looked at Kyle, then coldly swept her gaze over Mr. Davis nearby. “Who gave you the nerve to touch her? Do you have a death wish?”

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At three in the morning, I was jolted awake by a call from the building’s management office. When I opened my phone, I saw someone had mentioned me in the building’s group chat. ” Apartment 1601, have you no shame? Making those noises every night at this hour, as if you want everyone to know you’re having sex!” “My daughter just started college, and now she’s been corrupted by you.” “If you dare make those sounds again, I’ll start a livestream and let everyone know how shameless you are!” My downstairs neighbor kept hurling accusations at me, and other residents chimed in, saying they’d all been disturbed by my sounds. But I wasn’t even home right then! Thinking my husband might be cheating, I quickly opened the bedroom surveillance camera. The moment I saw the woman on the bed clearly, I laughed. Wasn’t this the college freshman daughter from downstairs? After a week of back-to-back business trips, I was exhausted and just wanted to get home and crash. At three in the morning, my driver had just merged onto the highway. Lying in the back seat, I was woken by an unexpected call from property management. I opened the homeowners’ group and found Sharon complaining again—she lived in the unit below mine. Ever since she moved in below us, she’d been complaining nonstop. Either our footsteps were too heavy and disturbing her rest, or we had too many guests and the elevator passed by her floor too frequently. Big issues, small issues—she’d tagged me countless times. Seeing her accusations this time were completely baseless, I hadn’t planned on responding. But even neighbors who usually stayed silent were speaking up. “These things happen, we understand, but the noise is really too loud. It’s definitely inappropriate. 1601, you should be more careful.” “This is a school district. Everyone has underage children. Yesterday my son asked me what those sounds were. It was really hard to explain.” Reading these messages, I was stunned. If it were just Sharon hearing something, she might be deliberately causing trouble. But I had no conflicts with the other neighbors—they had no reason to slander me. Perhaps they were mistaking sounds from another unit for mine. With this thought, I posted screenshots of last night’s business meeting records and my current location in the group. “I really haven’t been home these past few days. You must have the wrong person.” After my explanation, the group suddenly went silent. Five minutes later, Sharon sent a mocking voice message. “I put my ear to the door and listened. The sounds are definitely coming from your place. If it’s not you, then who?” My heart sank as I immediately thought of my husband cheating. But we’d known each other since high school, survived the difficult long-distance years during college, and built our business together to get where we are today. After all these years together, I couldn’t believe he would cheat. Another neighbor tagged me in the group: “1601, we get it—your husband has stamina. But could you please stop making those sounds!” With trembling hands, I replied in the group. “I’m not home. Give me a moment to check the surveillance.” This was surveillance my best friend had convinced me to secretly install in the bedroom. She said with our substantial assets now and my frequent business trips, our marriage might eventually fall apart. If my husband cheated first, maybe the surveillance would capture evidence. At the time, I’d dismissed her concerns. I never expected I’d actually see my husband with another woman on that surveillance footage! The woman turned her head at just the right moment. The instant I saw her, I was stunned. Wasn’t this Sharon’s college freshman daughter?!

I stared at the screen in disbelief, my body trembling uncontrollably. In that moment, I knew for certain—the man who’d weathered hardships with me had cheated. And I didn’t even know when he and his mistress had gotten together. Sharon’s accusations continued flooding the group, but I was furious yet clear-headed enough to know that the priority now wasn’t fighting back, but preserving evidence and catching them in the act! Over the years, Marcus and I had accumulated joint assets worth tens of millions. Since he cheated first, I’d make sure to take as much as possible in the divorce. I quickly contacted my best friend, who’s a lawyer. Learning of Marcus’s infidelity, she cursed him several times before asking me, “How soon can you get home?” I glanced up at my driver. Having overheard my conversation with my friend, he’d realized something was wrong and sped up considerably. He told me, “Two hours.” My friend immediately started contacting a private investigator to help me gather evidence. She also warned me not to tip them off before I got home. If anyone in the building wanted to knock on my door, I should definitely encourage them in the group to go together, ensuring there would be witnesses. Before hanging up, she said one last thing: “Serena, drive safely. Don’t let your health suffer over a man who isn’t worth it.” From the moment I discovered Marcus’s cheating, I’d only felt shock and anger. But after seeing my friend’s message, tears fell onto my phone against my will. No time to reminisce about the past with Marcus—Sharon, seeing I hadn’t responded in the group, started a group voice call. I declined it. Sharon continued posting in the group. “Oh, so you can see group messages? Then why no response?” “Don’t tell me you’re playing the victim, pretending to just discover your husband’s cheating?” “I saw your car this afternoon. You were home. Now you won’t admit it?” “When you were screaming, you sounded so slutty. Now suddenly you’re embarrassed?” I explained again that I was really on the highway and wouldn’t be home for another hour and a half. Sharon still didn’t believe me. “If the woman upstairs really isn’t you, I’ll not only apologize to you publicly, I’ll personally help you catch that homewrecker and scratch her face up!” I went along with Sharon’s words, taking the opportunity to say: “Then I’m afraid I’ll really have to trouble you to scratch that homewrecker’s face for me.” “I saw on the surveillance—those bastards are asleep now.” “I’ll be home in an hour and a half. Everyone, please don’t tip them off. When I get to the building, I’d appreciate it if the neighbors who are awake could come with me to catch them in the act and help me get justice!” The people in the group just wanted to watch the drama unfold. No one actually wanted to get involved in this mess. Seeing me invite them to witness the affair, the group instantly went silent. Only Sharon kept cursing at me. “You bitch, trying to gain sympathy by not admitting to it this time. You’d even ruin your own husband’s reputation!” “Others might not know you, but don’t I?” “When we were renovating, you faked being sick and said you needed to sleep, making the workers stay quiet. That delayed us moving in by a month!” “Later you hit and killed my dog with your car, but stubbornly claimed you’d injured your leg and hadn’t been driving at all.” “You fake bitch, this time I’ll make you pay!” I remembered both incidents Sharon mentioned. Because this building was close to my company, I was among the first residents to move in. At the time, many units were still being renovated. Everyone renovated during the day, but Sharon insisted on waiting until after work so she could supervise, making the workers renovate in the evening. I’d tried reasoning with Sharon several times, but each time she’d size up my clothes and sneer. “How would a pampered wife like you understand how much we sacrificed for this unit? Of course I need to supervise carefully during renovations. If you think it’s too loud, go stay in a hotel!” At the time I’d had a high fever and wasn’t in the mood to argue with her. I called the police instead. Only then did Sharon start renovating during the day. But after moving in, she decided I’d delayed her renovation schedule and demanded I compensate her a hundred thousand dollars for emotional distress. I completely ignored her. But a month later, as I was driving out, her daughter ran straight toward me with her dog on a leash. Even though I braked hard, I still hit the dog. It died on impact. Sharon and my husband both rushed to the scene. Sharon hysterically claimed the dog was their family member and demanded I pay two hundred thousand in compensation. I insisted on following legal procedures. My husband called the police on the spot. When the police questioned Sharon’s daughter, she was so frightened she could only cry. In the end, it was my dashcam footage that proved my innocence. I paid fifty thousand as humanitarian compensation. Sharon cursed and complained it wasn’t enough, swearing I’d get what I deserved. My husband stared silently at Grace in the distance. That must have been their first meeting. And now, they were lying in the same bed.

I didn’t rush to explain the truth in the group. Instead, I quickly told my friend about my new discovery. “Grace and Marcus must have started their affair after I hit that dog.” With this information, my friend reviewed the timeline from the private investigator with me, mapping out when Marcus had cheated. March 10, 2025: Marcus first met Grace. June 23: Grace claimed her water heater was broken and came upstairs to shower at our place while I wasn’t home. August 15: The two entered a hotel one after the other. Until today—nearly seven months. They’d met 53 times. Marcus had spent two million dollars on her from our joint account. The condo my parents had given me before marriage had become their secret meeting place. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking with rage. Sharon’s messages kept flooding the group. “This Serena loves playing the victim with her fake innocent act. Having her as a neighbor has been such bad luck!” “Good thing you parents with kids haven’t gotten too close to her, or when your kids cry at night, she might fabricate some story about having a heart condition and claim your crying child triggered an attack!” “Not like me—I raised my daughter for twenty years. She’s sweet and well-behaved, blushing even at the sight of people kissing, yet she has to listen to this woman screaming upstairs every night!” “If she corrupts my innocent daughter, I won’t want to live anymore!” The word “innocent” was particularly jarring. I directly posted a screenshot from the home surveillance to the group. In the frame, Marcus was holding a woman while sleeping. But because the image was blurry, Sharon couldn’t recognize it was Grace and immediately started cursing at me. “Serena, you really have no shame! Why are you posting pictures of you and your husband sleeping in the group?!” “Don’t you know there might be minors in this chat?!” I posted a video from the highway to explain: “I’m on the highway. I’ll be home in forty minutes. The surveillance is live. How many times do I have to say—the woman making those sounds in my home is NOT me!” Seeing my anger, people in the group started urging Sharon to back off, saying it might really be a misunderstanding. But Sharon kept insisting. “With Serena’s fake innocent act, if I’d really wronged her, she would’ve been crying and calling the police by now!” “I’m not trying to be aggressive. As long as she promises not to be so loud in the future and compensates my daughter three hundred thousand for emotional distress, we’ll let this go.” Reading the message, I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. No wonder she was making such a big deal today—she thought she’d caught me in the wrong and wanted to force me to pay up! She’d demanded a hundred thousand during renovations, two hundred thousand when I hit the dog. She called me a pampered wife living off my husband, yet all she thought about was my money. I could no longer contain my fury. I sent a voice message to the group: “Sharon, not only is the woman upstairs not me, but even if she were, what you’re doing right now is extortion!” Sharon fired back. “I’m slandering you? Your voice is already hoarse from screaming, and you’re still denying it!” “Just tell me—are you going to pay the emotional distress compensation or not!” I replied directly: “I know you’re jealous of my money, but I earned it through hard work. I’d rather donate it all than give you a single cent for slandering me. And this time, I’m also a victim!” “Bullshit! My daughter is the victim! Since you won’t take what I’m offering, don’t blame me for getting justice for my daughter!”

After saying this, Sharon directly shared a livestream link in the group. When I clicked it, I discovered Sharon was the streamer. In her stream, she was tearfully complaining about how I screamed every day, corrupting her daughter and causing her to mature too early. She claimed that because of me, her daughter had almost been tricked into working at a nightclub. And when she tried to get justice for her daughter by calling me out in the group, she was accused of extortion. Sharon cried hysterically, looking like a desperate mother trying to protect her daughter. Viewers in the livestream who didn’t know the truth were immediately outraged and rallied behind Sharon. “Why even talk to this bitch? Just kick her out of the building and make her compensate you with her condo!” “Best case scenario, this woman is a gold digger kept by her husband. Worst case, she’s a mistress herself. I suggest the streamer expose her identity. If she really is a mistress, it’ll be even easier to deal with!” Sharon pretended to accidentally leak my information in the livestream. Within five minutes, all my information had been dug up, and my company received over a thousand reports overnight! The deal I’d spent a week negotiating on this business trip—the client decided to terminate it after seeing the news. My employees kept calling, asking what was going on and how the company should handle PR. “Save all the evidence and have legal prepare to sue.” After responding to my employees, I quickly called each client back to explain, with no time to address the online backlash. I contacted all the clients. By then, the car had finally stopped at the building entrance. My friend said the evidence chain for Marcus’s affair was ready. Taking a deep breath, I looked at the dim morning sky outside and sent a message to the group. “I know everyone wants to watch the drama. I’m downstairs now. If you’re still awake, come with me to catch them in the act.” I opened the door and got out, looking up at my floor. Many people were leaning out, looking down. Sharon was the first to rush down, holding up her streaming phone. The camera was pointed at my face, but she told her livestream viewers: “This bitch must have snuck out of her home when I wasn’t paying attention, deliberately creating the illusion that she wasn’t home!” “I bet there’s no one in her place now. When we open the door, she’ll definitely say I deliberately slandered her. But she doesn’t know—I already recorded her screaming!” Seeing quite a few neighbors had gathered around, I smiled coldly. “I checked the surveillance. Those bastards are still at home. We won’t come up empty.” “Now, I’m going to take everyone upstairs to catch them in the act!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “369542”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

In a haute couture boutique in Paris, the wedding dress I’d waited half a year for was now draped on the body of Vivian Snow, the hottest actress of the moment. The store manager stood trembling before Marcus Caldwell, who sat on the sofa, sweat pouring down his face. Marcus rose to his feet and personally adjusted the hem of Vivian’s gown. Then he looked up at me and said: “She’s short a suitable gown for next week’s film festival. What’s the problem with borrowing it? Just pick another one and stop making a scene.” Vivian smiled happily at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, this wedding I’d spent a year preparing felt utterly ridiculous. I didn’t lose my temper. I simply removed the engagement ring from my finger and placed it calmly on the table. “You’re right, Mr. Caldwell. I should change my dress. And while I’m at it, I should change my groom too.” The air in the boutique became suffocating in that instant. Marcus’s hand, which had been adjusting Vivian’s hem, froze. He turned slowly. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes narrowed with cold scrutiny. “Miriam Fuller, what did you just say?” His voice carried an oppressive weight. I looked at his handsome face and felt my stomach turn. “I said I’m calling off this wedding.” My voice was perfectly calm. “Pfft—” Vivian, standing before the mirror, suddenly covered her mouth and laughed. She lifted the diamond-encrusted wedding dress—the one that should have been mine—and walked toward me. “Miriam, don’t be so petty.” Vivian blinked, her voice syrupy sweet: “This dress can only reach its maximum commercial value on me.” “You’re usually so gentle. Why are you being so difficult at such a crucial moment?” I looked at her coldly. “Take it off.” Vivian flinched back behind Marcus, her eyes reddening. “Marcus, Miriam’s scaring me.” Marcus immediately shielded Vivian behind him, his brow furrowing. He strode up to me, impatience flickering in his eyes. “Miriam, have you made enough of a scene?” He used that particular tone of his—the one that made hurtful words sound reasonable. “Vivian is the company’s cash cow. Tilting resources toward her benefits our future together.” “You’re a full-time housewife who doesn’t even work. Who exactly are you wearing such an expensive wedding dress for?” His matter-of-fact tone made me feel sick. Five years of devotion, and in his eyes, it only earned me the question “who are you wearing it for?” I took a deep breath, my hands clenched tight. “Marcus, I waited half a year for this custom-made dress.” “Did you ask my opinion before deciding to lend it out?” Marcus let out a cold laugh, completely dismissive. “Ask your opinion?” He moved closer, his presence overwhelming me. “This dress cost three million dollars. I paid for it!” “Everything you wear, everything you use—which of it wasn’t provided by me, Marcus?” “And now you want to talk to me about opinions?” He jabbed his finger at my shoulder, hard. “Miriam, you need to learn gratitude.” “Don’t think that just because I usually indulge you, you can do whatever you want around me.” I stared at this arrogant man and suddenly felt like I was looking at a stranger. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with taking his fiancée’s dress. In his eyes, I was just an object that existed to serve him. I had no interest in arguing further. I turned and headed for the door. “Stop right there!” Marcus shouted. He lunged forward and grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Marcus, let go!” I gasped in pain. Not only did he not release me, he yanked me toward him even harder. He lowered his head to my ear, his voice a threatening whisper. “Miriam, don’t push your luck.” “Be good and pick another wedding dress. Next week’s ceremony will proceed as planned.” “As long as you behave, once Vivian walks the red carpet, I’ll rent out an entire island and throw you an even bigger wedding.” “But if you dare walk out that door today…” He paused, his eyes turning sinister. “I guarantee that in all of New York, no bridal boutique will sell you anything, and no one will—” I endured the searing pain in my wrist and lifted my head, staring directly into his eyes. “Marcus, you disgust me.” I used all my strength to wrench my hand free. A ring of red marks had already formed on my wrist. Without sparing him another glance, I turned and walked away.

Click. The boutique’s heavy glass door locked behind me. I turned around. Marcus stood inside, tossing the electronic key he’d taken from the store manager in his hand. Through the glass, he looked at me with a cold smirk. “Miriam, I told you—without my permission, you’re not going anywhere.” I pounded on the glass door. “Marcus! This is illegal detention! Open this door!” “Detention?” Marcus strolled back to the sofa and sat down casually, crossing his legs. “I’m teaching my fiancée what rules mean.” Vivian sidled up to him, leaning against his shoulder and shooting me a provocative smile. “Miriam, stop making trouble. Marcus is doing this for your own good.” “It’s about to pour outside. You won’t even be able to get a car.” Marcus pulled out his phone and made a call right in front of me. “Cancel all cards under Miriam’s name.” “Freeze all her hotel VIP privileges.” “Notify every car service and rideshare platform in New York—anyone who accepts a ride from Miriam is making an enemy of Caldwell Corporation.” After hanging up, he tapped his knuckles against the glass. “Miriam, your pride is worthless.” “Without me, you won’t even find a place to sleep in this city.” “I’m giving you two hours to reflect.” “When you’ve come to your senses, get on your knees outside that door and beg me.” The sky darkened quickly. The wind picked up, and soon heavy rain began to fall. The rain soaked me to the bone, leaving me shivering with cold. I stood beneath the awning outside the boutique, trembling all over. I pulled out my phone. A dozen text messages flashed on the screen. [Dear customer, your credit card has been frozen…] [We apologize, Ms. Fuller. Your ride request has been forcibly cancelled by the system…] Marcus hadn’t been joking. He was using his power to completely cut me off. He wanted to corner me, to make me understand that I was nothing but his accessory. I clenched my jaw and scrolled through my contacts. I couldn’t give in. I called my best friend, Harper Kingston. “Harper, come pick me up. I’m outside the boutique on Madison Avenue.” On the other end of the line, Harper’s voice was choked with tears. “Miriam… I’m so sorry…” “Marcus just called my dad and threatened him. He said if I come get you, the Kingston family’s funding will dry up tomorrow.” “My dad locked me in my room… Miriam, just apologize to him. Marcus has lost his mind!” My heart sank. Marcus had cut off even my last escape route. Through the rain-blurred glass, I could see Marcus leisurely swirling a glass of red wine. He was enjoying watching me suffer in the rain. Vivian knelt at his feet, massaging his legs. The sight stabbed at my eyes and killed whatever feelings I had left for him. I realized I shouldn’t have been looking for a decent person in a trash heap. Filthy garbage should simply be thrown away. I took a deep breath and shoved my frozen hands into my pockets. Since no one was coming, I’d walk back myself. I turned and plunged into the rain. “Wham!” I’d barely taken two steps when a black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of me, splashing muddy water high into the air. The window rolled down. Marcus’s assistant stepped out, holding a black umbrella. He looked down at my drenched figure with contempt and threw a garment bag directly at my feet.

Through the half-open zipper, I could see a cheap white bridesmaid dress inside, loose threads still hanging from it. The assistant looked at me coldly, his tone patronizing. “Ms. Fuller, Vivian is walking the red carpet tonight and needs someone to carry her train.” “Mr. Caldwell said if you put on this dress and attend to Ms. Snow tonight…” “Your credit cards will be unfrozen tomorrow, and you can still have a spot at the wedding.” They wanted me to carry the train for the woman who’d stolen my wedding dress? While wearing this thing? This was humiliation. I stared at the garment bag on the ground, shaking violently from the cold, but my spine remained perfectly straight. “Go back and tell Marcus to go to hell.” The assistant’s expression changed. He pointed at my nose and started cursing. “Miriam, don’t push your luck! Without Mr. Caldwell, you couldn’t even afford to eat!” He waved his hand. The rear door of the Maybach swung open. Two bodyguards rushed out and pinned my arms behind my back. “Let me go! What are you doing?!” I struggled desperately, but my rain-frozen body had no strength left. The assistant picked up the mud-splattered dress from the ground and shoved it forcefully into my arms. “Mr. Caldwell’s orders—It’s best for you not to regret it later!” I was roughly shoved into the car. The door slammed shut. The Maybach sped through the downpour, heading straight for tonight’s film festival red carpet venue. The air conditioning in the car was blasting cold air. Wearing my soaked clothes, I shivered violently, my lips turning purple, my teeth chattering. The assistant sat in the passenger seat, sneering at me through the rearview mirror. “Ms. Fuller, if you’d known it would come to this, why start the trouble?” “Women should just lower their heads and submit. You’d have everything. But no, you had to oppose Mr. Caldwell. In the end, you’re the only one who suffers.” I closed my eyes, refusing to listen to his garbage. Half an hour later, the car stopped at the red carpet’s backstage area. The bodyguards forced me out of the car. In the nearby dressing room, Vivian wore the dress that should have been mine—the one covered in diamonds—surrounded by reporters conducting interviews. Marcus stood beside her in a tailored suit, his gaze indulgent. Seeing me being escorted over, Marcus excused himself from the reporters and strode toward me. He glanced at the mud-stained bridesmaid dress in my hands, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why are you in such a state?” He removed his suit jacket, attempting to drape it over my shoulders. Still using that hypocritical tone. “Miriam, you’re just too stubborn. If you’d just behaved, how could I bear to let you suffer like this?” Nausea churned in my stomach. I turned aside, dodging his touch. The jacket fell to the ground. Marcus’s expression darkened, his eyes turning vicious. “Miriam, my patience has limits.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up. “Now. Go change into that dress immediately.” “When Vivian goes on stage, you’ll carry her train from behind.” “If you dare mess this up…” He let out a cold laugh and pulled a bracelet from his pocket. That was the only keepsake my late grandmother had left me! “Marcus! Give it back!” I lunged forward, trying to grab it. He raised his right hand high, his eyes ruthless. “Carry her train, and I’ll return it to you.” “Otherwise, I’ll smash it right now.”

The bracelet was something my grandmother had placed on my wrist on her deathbed. It was my last connection to anyone in this world. Marcus’s fingers tightened slightly around the bracelet. If he released his grip, the jade would shatter on the floor. “I’m counting to three.” Marcus looked down at me condescendingly. “Three.” “Two.” I trembled all over, my nails digging into my palms until they drew blood. “One.” “I’ll do it!” I forced those two words from my throat, my eyes stinging. Marcus smiled with satisfaction. He pocketed the bracelet and patted my cheek. “That’s better. Go on. Vivian’s about to make her entrance.” I took the mud-stained bridesmaid dress and walked into the restroom. Looking at my pathetic reflection in the mirror, my eyes turned cold. For five years, I’d hidden my identity as a venture capital founder to protect his ego. I’d willingly stayed home, supporting him from the shadows. I thought I’d fallen in love with an ambitious man. Turned out, I’d just been feeding a selfish beast. Marcus, every ounce of humiliation you’ve heaped on me today— Tomorrow, you’ll repay it with your entire company. I didn’t put on the bridesmaid dress. I threw it directly into the trash. Pushing open the restroom door, I walked toward the red carpet staging area. Vivian was holding Marcus’s arm, about to step onto the red carpet. Seeing me emerge in my soaked street clothes, Marcus’s expression turned stormy. “Miriam! Are my words going in one ear and out the other?!” He hissed under his breath. Vivian also put on an aggrieved expression. “Miriam, how could you do this? Without you carrying my train, this gown won’t have the same impact.” I looked at them coldly. The flash photography ahead had already started. The host was calling Vivian’s name in a loud voice. Ignoring Marcus, I turned toward the exit. “Grab her!” Marcus couldn’t care less about the occasion. He gave the order directly. The two bodyguards lunged forward and kicked the back of my knees. “Thud!” Completely unprepared, I collapsed onto the hard floor. Searing pain shot through my knees. Surrounding staff members and reporters turned to look. Someone raised a camera. Marcus strode up to me, his eyes cold and merciless. In front of everyone, he pointed at my nose. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, my apologies.” But his words were cutting. “This woman is a minor assistant at my company who’s harbored unrealistic fantasies about me.” “Today she actually crashed the backstage area to cause trouble, attempting to sabotage Ms. Vivian’s red carpet appearance.” “Someone get this woman out of here. Don’t let her dirty everyone’s eyes!” The entire venue erupted in commotion. Countless camera flashes captured my image kneeling on the floor. He wanted to destroy my dignity this way. The bodyguards roughly hauled me up by my arms and dragged me toward the door and the pouring rain beyond. Marcus wrapped his arm around Vivian’s waist, watching me. “Miriam, this is what happens when you disobey me. Tonight, you can sleep on the streets and reflect properly.” I was thrown into the mud outside the backstage entrance. Rain washed over the blood on my knees. I lay in the muck, watching the two glamorous figures on the red carpet, a cold smile on my lips. From my soaked pocket, I pulled out my encrypted black phone. My fingers trembled as I pressed a string of numbers. It was Damien Ashford’s private line. Damien—New York’s untouchable devil, and the only partner who’d stood beside me when I built my venture capital empire on Wall Street years ago. For five years, he’d willingly retreated into the shadows, managing hundreds of billions in overseas capital for me. He’d begged me countless times, eyes red with suppressed obsession, to leave Marcus. But I’d stubbornly refused, insisting I wanted “an ordinary person’s stable love.” Only today did I finally understand—some garbage doesn’t deserve genuine affection. The call connected. “It’s me.” “The game’s over. Pull all domestic investments from Caldwell Corporation. Cut off their funding.” “Also…” I closed my eyes, letting the rain pound against my face. When I opened them again, only resolution remained. “Damien, come get me. Tomorrow, I want Marcus and his Caldwell Corporation to disappear from New York.” The line was silent for a few seconds. Then came a man’s low, raspy voice—filled with long-suppressed heartache and murderous intent: “Ten minutes. Marcus will pay with his life.” After hanging up, laughter and flirtation still drifted from the nearby dressing room. Marcus and Vivian were still plotting to keep me under their feet. They had no idea they were about to be finished.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “369541”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

I just posted vacation photos with my boyfriend on social media when a relationship tester private messaged me. “Hey sweetie, your boyfriend looks like a player. Give me his Ins, and I’ll test him for free, okay?” I replied: “Scammer! You’re probably just a homewrecker looking to seduce other people’s boyfriends.” After I refused, she posted our private conversation online and played the victim. A flood of internet users swarmed into my messages to insult me. I publicly apologized to her, saying I just wanted a quiet life. But she and the internet mob were convinced I was guilty and insisted they had to help test whether my boyfriend was faithful. A few days later, the relationship tester triumphantly posted a screenshot of adding my boyfriend as an Ins friend, with the caption: “Easy catch. Your boyfriend’s not behaving~” But as I looked at her, I felt nothing but pity. The relationship tester’s new post had been up for barely an hour when it broke ten thousand likes. I stared at the two screenshots in the post. The first was a friend request: “Hey handsome, add me as a friend~” The second was their Ins chat interface. The comment section had already exploded, with internet users flooding in to mock me. “Quick, make her look! Her boyfriend is flirting with a strange woman!” “No wonder she cursed when offered a free test. Turns out her boyfriend is cheap trash.” As the internet wished, I was tagged in the pinned comment. Watching the comments become increasingly vicious, I couldn’t help posting an explanation: “Thank you all for your concern about my relationship, but my boyfriend and I have known each other since high school, and I trust him. If our relationship really falls apart in the future, I’ll break up without hesitation, but until then I don’t want to subject him to any human nature tests, and I don’t want anyone interfering in our relationship.” Seeing quite a few internet users agreeing, I breathed a sigh of relief, praying everyone would just disperse. But the relationship tester immediately came crying: “Sweetie, I don’t want to ruin your relationship. I just wanted to help test him because I’m afraid of girls meeting bad men.” As soon as she spoke, the fans who originally supported her followed suit. They were convinced I just couldn’t let go of a scumbag. Looking at these harsh words, my chest tightened. Finally I just turned off my phone. That evening, after finishing work, I came home. As soon as I entered, I saw my boyfriend Aaron leaning on the sofa looking at his phone, a faint smile on his handsome face. Hearing me, he reflexively jerked away, turning his phone face-down, and said stiffly: “Summer, you’re home so early today?” “Yeah, were you chatting with someone?” “A buddy.” My heart sank. He was lying. Aaron always blinked when he lied. I comforted myself—we were adults, everyone had their private matters. I pretended not to notice and complained about work as usual. Aaron also listened quietly as usual, but his eyes kept glancing at his phone. After talking for ages without a single response from him, I felt inexplicably tired. Remembering the day’s drama, I couldn’t help testing: “Aaron, did any strange people try to add you on Ins today?” He smiled lightly: “No.” But my heart sank even deeper at his words. I unconsciously gripped my collar tighter, quickly shaking those strange thoughts from my mind. Aaron and I had been through so much together. It wasn’t like others hadn’t appeared—junior girls who had crushes on him, coworkers who liked him—but he rejected them all. How could our relationship be destroyed now by some random person who appeared online? Besides, I knew what kind of person Aaron was. Thinking this, I relaxed and went to my room to rest. But when I opened my social media app, I saw the relationship tester had just posted again. “Foolish woman, I feel sorry for you.”

I couldn’t help being drawn to her cover image—a screenshot of her chat with Aaron. It started with awkward attempts at conversation, until she discovered Aaron loved gaming, and they suddenly hit it off. My grip on my phone tightened. It was true—Aaron was really good at games. In contrast, I was terrible at them. Realizing I’d only drag him down, over time I stopped playing with him. Comments quickly flooded the post: “Oh my god, and she won’t break up?” Immediately followed by frantically tagging me. “She acts like she’s never seen a man before. All she deserves in this life is garbage.” “Props to the blogger, being able to chat with such a disgusting man.” The relationship tester gently replied: “Sweetie, I’m not suffering. I mainly want to help sisters see men clearly.” Internet users were touched and rushed to comfort her: “The blogger is too good, what a shame the wife doesn’t appreciate it.” “It’s okay, some women are smart, some are dumb. We need patience. I’ll keep working to help her wake up.” Internet users were moved by her warm words, praising her en masse as her follower count skyrocketed overnight. I clicked through to her profile, where posts about testing other people’s boyfriends filled the page. Each post’s cover image had large words reading “Certified Scum,” and the comment sections were filled with praise and people thanking her. So now it was my turn? Just then I heard the door open. I watched Aaron walk into the room, his expression unreadable, and asked again: “Aaron, I can trust you, right?” Aaron tilted his head in confusion, then smiled and walked over, pulling me into his arms and nuzzling my forehead affectionately: “Of course.” “Okay, I trust you.” I put down my phone and turned off the light to sleep. After that, I stopped going online, and Aaron showed no unusual behavior. I figured in a few days, once new entertainment appeared, they’d leave on their own. But several days later, after finishing a client meeting and taking a break, I saw Aaron’s back on a nearby pedestrian street. His tall, straight figure in a black jacket stood out in the crowd. Equally eye-catching was the beauty beside him—in a fitted black dress, smiling brilliantly while holding his hand. It was the relationship tester from online. I gripped my handbag tightly and hurried forward. Just as I got close, the relationship tester let go of his hand and ran off as if avoiding suspicion. Aaron turned around, looking at me with surprise and panic: “Summer, what are you doing here?” My gaze moved from him to the person running away, my tone cold: “Who was that just now?” He avoided my eyes: “A salesperson, kept pulling me to push products.” “Then what are you doing here?” Aaron owned a large club and usually stayed at the shop. Yet today he’d come to this distant place. He smiled: “I heard you were here for business, so I planned to wait until your break and take you to dinner.” He even showed me his phone—he’d booked a couple’s restaurant. Though I didn’t like the gaudy decor, thinking of his thoughtfulness, I happily agreed. The food was decent. After eating, my mood improved. Bored, I played with my phone, wanting to see if the online storm had passed. But as soon as I opened the app, I saw the relationship tester’s new post: “Sweetie, you ate the meal meant for me.” The photo showed me happily eating and chatting with Aaron. Aaron happened to be looking down, not at me, his back appearing somewhat lonely and distracted in that moment. I suddenly looked toward where she’d taken the photo, but that spot was already empty. My good mood evaporated completely. My chest felt stuffy, and I accidentally glimpsed the sarcastic comments mocking me in the comment section. A breath stuck in my chest, unable to escape. Just then, the relationship tester sent a private message, her tone still full of that pitying concern: “Sweetie, I think you saw that the scumbag probably lied to you, saying I was a salesperson.” An unnamed fire burned in my chest, my tone turning irritable: “I’m reminding you one more time—I don’t need your so-called testing. Please stay away from me and my boyfriend!” The relationship tester remained breezy: “Every woman reacts like you when facing reality. But that’s okay, I believe it won’t be long before you come to thank me too.” “Enough! I’ll say this one last time—interfering in others’ relationships, no matter what excuse you use, makes you a homewrecker.” She sighed helplessly: “Okay, I’ll help you test him a bit longer.”

After saying this, she disappeared, and I was so irritated I wanted to throw my phone. Looking up, I saw Aaron had received some message and said: “Summer, I might be busy lately. I have to go.” He left in a hurry. I watched him get into his car downstairs. A woman got into the passenger seat, her face blocked by him, but she wore the same fitted black dress. I sat there for a long time before remembering to return to the office. As soon as I got back, I saw the afternoon proposal still spread on the desk, unfinished. “What’s going on with this proposal? I assigned it this morning, and it’s still not done?” I slammed the file on the desk. Several subordinates hung their heads silently. In the corner, a new intern scrolled through her phone and laughed. “What are you laughing at?” She looked up and turned her phone toward me. The screen showed the relationship tester’s new post. The trending topic was getting bigger, and people around had all seen it. “Ms. Reynolds, your own face is getting slapped to pieces, and you still come to lecture us?” The others around her mocked me too. Just then the door opened. My supervisor walked in, saw the proposal still incomplete, and chewed me out. “Summer Reynolds, I’m warning you, your messy drama is seriously affecting the company’s image. If you don’t clean it up within a week, get out!” By the time I got off work, I dragged my exhausted body home to find the house completely dark. I turned on the light and saw a note on the table. “Summer, I have something to take care of. Take care of yourself. I’ll bring you a gift when I get back.” I pulled out my phone to call him, but it kept showing temporarily unavailable. Messages I sent on SnapChat also went unanswered. I sat on the sofa for a while, then reflexively opened social media. Sure enough, the relationship tester had pinned a new post to her homepage. “Invited by a certain gentleman to travel for a few days. I’ll live-stream the test results for you all then.” Above was her selfie and a plane ticket. The internet users below, hearing about the livestream, completely lost it. Even after seeing it required payment, a bunch of people said they’d pay to watch this drama unfold. A crowd of people came to my account asking if I’d break up. I reaffirmed my position and seriously told the relationship tester: “I know what kind of person my boyfriend is. Please stop bothering us. This is for your own good.” This time, unlike the previous mockery, quite a few people started pitying me and dug up all my posts and comments to analyze my psychological state step by step. Some said I must have lacked love growing up, which was why I was so desperate to please men, calling on everyone to love their daughters well. Others said I was just stubborn, saving face even when broke, too proud to admit the truth. I was too lazy to argue with them and exited the app. Just then I received a friend request from a stranger. As soon as I accepted, she sent a photo she’d taken of Aaron and a location. “He’s here.”

The next day was Saturday. I booked a flight. On the way, a cute-looking girl blocked my path. She claimed that thanks to the relationship tester’s help, she’d finally seen men’s true colors. Finished speaking, she gripped my hand sympathetically and said: “I really can’t stand watching you degrade yourself like this. Is it worth constantly defending a man? We need to wake up.” I looked back at her earnestly, very much agreeing with her words, and pulled out a hundred dollars in cash. “You said it so well, thank you for enlightening me. This is money I just found. Here, take it.” She was stunned at first, saying awkwardly: “Found money… giving it to me doesn’t seem right.” Though she said this, she cheerfully reached for the money. The instant her hand was about to touch it, I snatched it back with disdain: “You’d even take found money? You fail the morality test.” Realizing I’d tricked her, she raged: “What’s wrong with you! I gave you sincere advice, and you pull this ridiculous test?” “Don’t you people love testing? Why are you unhappy when it’s your turn?” “How is this the same? That’s testing love!” I laughed coldly: “Aren’t they both tests? Who are you people anyway? What gives you the right to randomly test others?” Her face flushed with anger, pointing at me: “No wonder people call you a doormat wife. Just wait until the test results come out and you get what’s coming to you.” She stormed off angrily, and I turned to continue on my way. I flew all the way to my destination. Just after landing, I saw the relationship tester had already set up her phone to start the livestream. She wore a sexy slip dress, lounging lazily on the soft hotel bed. Internet users below were shouting, asking why I hadn’t appeared yet, wondering if I was hiding somewhere crying. The relationship tester told internet users to be more patient with unenlightened girls, while her lips couldn’t help curling into a smile. But as the chat time increased, internet users noticed it was well past the agreed time and started getting suspicious. “How come that guy still hasn’t shown up? Are we being played?” “To be honest, I’ve been wondering if the blogger actually hooked him. It’s all chat records—we haven’t seen them on screen together.” A flash of panic crossed the relationship tester’s face. She quickly adjusted, flipping her hair confidently: “Sweetie, would I fake this? I’m not just any woman. When someone of my caliber makes a move, no man can resist.” “Really? You’re that amazing? Next time help me test mine too.” “No problem. After this test ends and I successfully help that sister break up, I’ll help you.” Internet users above kept thanking her, saying thanks to such selfless beauties like her, more girls could escape suffering. Only people like me deserved to be deceived by scumbags. I silently watched their chat on screen, finally unable to resist commenting: “While there’s still a chance to salvage this, I advise you to stop now.” As soon as I appeared, they started clamoring. “Well well, if it isn’t the internet’s most famous doormat wife. Come to watch your boyfriend’s cheating scene?” Just then, the sound of the door lock came. The relationship tester hid her phone, then stuck out her chest toward the screen: “Sweetie, don’t be afraid of the test. This is all for your own good.” Finished speaking, the hotel room door opened and a man walked in.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “369540”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

I traded three years of my youth for a love that was nothing but a complete mistake. I was the one who saved Lucas from that kidnapping chamber. I was the one whose wrist bears the scar from protecting him. But he kept my words close and worshipped my sister as the light in his darkness. My father forced me to marry into a wealthy family, to a useless man in a vegetative state, to plug the holes in our family business. I thought Lucas would refuse on my behalf. Instead, he said. “Hurry up and marry him. Don’t hold up my wedding to Vivian.” When I turned around and married into the Quinn family, becoming Mrs. Quinn, only then did he frantically search the world for me. But he’ll never know that I never bowed to fate. I came to collect every blood debt he owes me, with my own hands. Jade’s POV “The vegetable from the Quinn family. I’ll marry him.” Vincent froze for a moment, then a delighted smile spread across his face. “Jade, you’ve come around? The Quinn family may have a comatose heir right now, but they’re true old money. Once you marry in for this business alliance, the capital injection…” “I have conditions.” “Name them.” Vincent’s mood lifted as he settled back into his leather ergonomic chair. “Mother’s shares-I want them liquidated.” I held up one finger. “Ten billion dollars.” “Ten billion? That’s all of the Reynolds family’s liquid assets! Right now Vivian’s venture has some losses…” “Those are her losses.” I looked at him coldly. “Pay me what I’m owed, and I’ll marry him. If not, let Vivian marry him herself.” Vincent slammed his hand on the desk, about to lose his temper, then held back. He needed the Quinn family’s money. “Fine.” He gritted his teeth. “What else?” “Transfer Lucas’s employment contract to Vivian.” This time Vincent was genuinely stunned. The whole city knew I protected my bodyguard Lucas above all else. Three years ago when he was kidnapped, I went crazy trying to find a way to rescue him. “Can you really bear to?” Vincent narrowed his eyes. “Weren’t you saying you’d marry no one but him?” The scar on my left wrist throbbed with phantom pain. “As long as you pay what I’m owed, you can take him.” I sneered. “Reassign him as Vivian’s bodyguard, or whatever else she wants-she’s been eyeing him anyway.” Vincent stared at me for a long moment, as if trying to determine whether I meant it. In the end, he compromised in the face of such massive capital and the temptation of currying favor with the Quinns. “Fine. Once the Quinn family’s betrothal gift arrives, I’ll transfer the money.” I turned to leave. My hand had just touched the doorknob when Vincent’s voice came from behind me. “Jade, can you really bear it? That’s Lucas we’re talking about.” My right hand on the doorknob trembled slightly as I remembered the devout look in Lucas’s eyes when he gazed at Vivian. I only felt it was ridiculous. I didn’t answer. I slammed the study door with force. Downstairs, the living room was brightly lit. The floor was covered with pink balloons and various luxury gift boxes. This was the warm-up for Vivian’s celebration party. My marriage was a bargaining chip in a ten-billion-dollar transaction-no one cared. The illegitimate daughter’s fake nomination was worth the whole family decorating with lights and colors. A pink balloon drifted to my feet. I lifted my heel expressionlessly and crushed it down hard. Pop. The sound of the balloon bursting echoed through the empty living room. I walked through the corridor to Lucas’s quarters. Because of his severe photophobia, all the lawn lights in this area had been specially dimmed. The door to his meditation room was ajar, with no lights on inside, only a faint red glow seeping through. I didn’t go in. I just stood quietly at the door. Heavy breathing came from inside, carrying a sickly oppression. Through the gap in the door, I saw Lucas sitting on the carpet, holding an exquisitely mounted manuscript in his hands. He buried his face in that calligraphy, breathing deeply, like a dying person inhaling oxygen. His fingers traced over the ink marks on the paper bit by bit. “Vivian…” “Only your writing can save me.” That piece of calligraphy was signed “Vivian Reynolds,” but the handwriting was actually my unique script. Three years ago, he and I were locked in adjacent cells. I slipped notes to him through cracks in the wall, using this handwriting style to write encouraging words to keep him alive. The day we were rescued, I was carried away in a high fever and delirium. Vivian stood before him holding a stack of my manuscripts. So he decided that the person who gave him light in the darkness was Vivian.

Jade’s POV In this family, Vivian was the treasured jewel. I was the tool used to fill holes. After Mother died, Vincent cultivated a philanthropic wealthy persona for himself to seem refined. He didn’t understand architecture, but he knew Vivian needed a talented woman’s reputation to marry into even higher society. And I was that shadow. Since childhood, whenever there was a design competition, I was locked in the attic to draw. The winner’s list always bore Vivian’s name, and those trophies would be displayed in the most prominent spot in the living room for Vincent to brag about how outstanding his younger daughter was. If I didn’t draw, Mother’s belongings left to me would mysteriously disappear or get damaged. For the sake of those mementos, I lived my life as Vivian’s shadow. The private phone on the desk vibrated, breaking the suffocating silence. It was Lucas’s private number. Only a handful of people had it. He reluctantly set down the calligraphy he’d been holding, his brow furrowing slightly. When he answered, his voice instantly returned to its usual cold nobility. “Hey.” I stood in the shadows by the door, in no hurry to enter. The voice on the other end was probably his psychologist Dr. Xu, faintly audible through the receiver, asking about his recent condition and why he still endured my bad temper. Lucas’s fingers unconsciously tapped the table-his tell for irritation. “She’s just someone who knows how to draw blueprints.” His voice was cold, as if evaluating a defective product. “She’s a gold digger. Apart from money and scheming, what does she know about design?” I stood outside the door, my nails digging into my palms. So this was his assessment of my countless all-nighters and endless discarded drafts. Then his tone changed, becoming extremely tender. “Only Vivian’s calligraphy has spirit. Doctor, you don’t understand-what I saw in the darkness was exactly that kind of light. To protect Vivian’s purity, enduring that woman is worth it.” In that instant, I felt something shatter inside me. Since you’re so noble, don’t blame me for showing you what real gold-digging looks like. I pushed the door open. The loud sound of the door opening shattered the meditation room’s silence. Lucas reacted quickly, immediately turning to block the safe behind him, his brow furrowed, his eyes full of disgust at my intrusion. “Who gave you permission to come in?” he demanded coldly. I leaned against the doorframe, my gaze falling on the corner of the safe visible behind him, and let out a cold laugh. “Obsessing over a piece of paper-Mr. Hayes, what refined taste. Since you like it so much, why not go find the real person with all that ‘spirit’?” Lucas’s expression darkened, and he barked sharply, “Shut up! You don’t understand art, and you’re not worthy to speak Vivian’s name. Her calligraphy is priceless, unlike you-all you think about is business.” I ignored his rebuke and casually pulled a gold-embossed invitation from my bag, tossing it onto the table. “Tomorrow night, you’re coming to the gala with me.” The invitation slid across the table and stopped beside that piece of calligraphy. Lucas didn’t even glance at it, refusing without hesitation. “I’m busy. I have no interest in that kind of social climbing. Go by yourself.” “Is that so?” I adjusted my cuffs, my tone flat. “I heard Vivian will be there too. As the lead designer of the Holy Infant Cathedral, she’s going to accept an award.” The air froze for a second. Lucas’s previously cold expression instantly softened, his eyes relaxing, even taking on a hint of pride. “Holy Infant Cathedral… That’s Vivian’s life’s work.” He picked up the invitation, his slender fingers caressing the gold lettering. “What time do we leave?” Watching him like this, I only felt it was ridiculous. “Seven tomorrow evening.” With that, I turned and left the meditation room. Back in the attic, my room had no lights on. By the moonlight from the window, I could see a sketch still clipped to the easel. It was a discarded draft I’d drawn in a burst of inspiration late one night two years ago. I walked over and tore the sketch down. The sound of ripping paper was especially harsh in the quiet attic. I crumpled it into a ball and casually tossed it into the trash can by my feet. Since I was selling out, I might as well sell out completely. The next morning, servants delivered two evening gowns. One was the latest season’s white haute couture, with layers upon layers of skirt, studded with tiny crystals-ethereal and clearly prepared for Vivian. The other was black, an outdated style, not even the right size. The servant set down the clothes, her eyes evasive. “Mr. Reynolds said Miss Vivian is accepting an award and needs to look presentable. This black one is suitable for you to sit in the audience.” I said nothing and waved her out. That evening, Lucas was already waiting by the car. Because of his photophobia, he wore sunglasses and a haute couture suit, his posture straight and commanding. Such a man who could make waves in the city was now willing to act as my driver for Vivian’s sake. I walked over in my heels and pulled open the door to sit in the passenger seat. We didn’t exchange a single word the entire ride. The air pressure in the car was frighteningly low. Only when Lucas occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror would the corners of his mouth unconsciously lift slightly. I knew he was anticipating that “spirited” Vivian.

Jade’s POV I watched Lucas through the rearview mirror. His fingers rested on the steering wheel, long and defined. I looked down at my own hands. These hands had once held his in that sunless chamber, leading him out of despair. Now, those hands eagerly turned the steering wheel, rushing toward another woman. This was the last time I’d ride in his car. Once I got the Quinn family’s money, he would belong entirely to Vivian. Whether the man himself or that lie about salvation-I’d package it all up and send it to her. The car stopped at the gala hotel entrance. Media crowded both sides of the red carpet, flashbulbs creating a continuous white daylight. Lucas quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and got out. He didn’t come around to open my door. Instead, he stood by the car, his gaze urgently searching behind us. That car held Vivian. I pushed open the car door myself. The altered black gown wrapped around my body, my heels clicking on the ground. Vivian arrived. She wore that white haute couture gown, linking her arm through mine, smiling sweetly, posing for the cameras in a display of sisterly affection. I pulled my hand back in disgust, avoiding her touch. “Don’t dirty my clothes.” Vivian’s movements stiffened. She immediately turned to Lucas, her eyes reddening. “Lucas, is Jade still blaming me for borrowing her inspiration? I just thought that style was beautiful…” Lucas stepped forward in one stride, shielding her behind him, removing his sunglasses to look at me coldly. “Inspiration is just inspiration. Someone has to realize it to give it value.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “Vivian gave it soul. You should feel honored.” Vivian broke into a smile, pulling a miniature model of the Holy Infant Cathedral from her clutch. She held it up to Lucas like a treasure. “Look, the light and shadow design here-this is the divine light I imagined.” Lucas looked down at the model, his eyes instantly softening with a trace of devotion. “This is the world I saw in the darkness. Vivian, only you understand.” I laughed inwardly. Who was it that described that scene to him bit by bit through the wall in the detention cell? Vivian seemed to remember something and turned to look at me with concern. “Jade, are you still having trouble with your designs lately? You should rest more.” I looked at the design in her hands that belonged to me and said flatly, “My discarded drafts can win you major awards. What troubles could I possibly have?” A giant in the architecture world happened to walk by. He stopped, pointed at a support structure on the model, and asked Vivian curiously, “That load-bearing point is quite bold. How did you calculate it?” Vivian froze, unable to answer for a long time. Her eyes darted around evasively. “Well… by feel. For aesthetics, I thought this looked good.” The old professor frowned. “Architecture is rigorous science. Going by feel alone will make buildings collapse.” The atmosphere grew awkward. Just as Lucas was about to intervene, I spoke first. “It uses a hyperbolic tension structure.” I looked at the model. “It disperses thirty percent of the vertical load, which is why it appears lightweight.” The professor looked at me in surprise, nodded approvingly, and walked away. Vivian bit her lip, looking at Lucas with grievance. Lucas glanced at me with displeasure. “What good is memorizing textbooks? Vivian has an artist’s intuition.” The curator walked over, holding the final confirmation list. “Excuse me, we need to confirm the design attribution. Currently it’s registered under Reynolds Design Department.” I spoke up firmly. “Change it to Jade Reynolds.” Vivian panicked. “Jade, Dad and the sponsors’ intention is to promote new talent…” “New talent?” I sneered. “Show me your draft sketches! What are the core parameters? What are the light angles? Can you even answer?” Vivian opened her mouth, looking to Lucas for help. Lucas pulled a black card from his suit pocket and handed it to the curator. “I’m adding a hundred million in sponsorship for the Holy Infant Cathedral project’s startup fund.” Lucas’s voice wasn’t loud, but loud enough for those nearby to hear clearly. “The condition is that the lead designer’s name must be-Vivian Reynolds.” Vivian covered her mouth in excitement, looking at him with deep affection. I looked at Lucas in disbelief. “That’s my heart and soul!” He looked down at me from his height, his eyes cold as ice. “Jade, only Vivian deserves it. This hundred million is to buy your silence.” The big screen flickered. The host’s voice rang out loudly. “Now announcing this year’s Gold Award winner-Vivian Reynolds!” That name appeared huge and blood-red. I stood in the shadows, clutching the useless draft in my hand, crumpling it into a ball of garbage. That black card was a symbol of power, and the final straw that crushed me. In the face of capital, talent was so fragile. Three years of my work couldn’t match his one card.

Jade’s POV Thunderous applause hurt my eardrums. On the big screen, the three bright red characters of Vivian Reynolds seemed to flow down like blood, stinging my eyes. I turned and pushed through the crowd, fleeing. Leaving the hotel, I drove to a suspended Reynolds family construction project. I carried a bottle of dark liquor I’d bought at a roadside convenience store and sat on the high-level steel beams without any safety protection, letting the wind blow. The city lights spread out below my feet like a giant net. I looked at my calloused hands, wondering how much longer these hands could draw, how much longer I could struggle in this cesspool reeking of money. Suddenly, the roar of an engine came from below. A car door opened. Vivian pulled Lucas out. She walked across the uneven ground in her heels, stumbling with each step. Lucas patiently supported her waist, as if caring for a fragile piece of porcelain. What timing. Vivian insisted on visiting the site of her award-winning work in person. Ridiculously, she didn’t even know where the construction elevator was and had to rely on Lucas for directions. We ran into each other at the construction elevator. The elevator door closed. Three people crammed into the narrow iron cage. The air instantly thinned, mixed with Vivian’s sickeningly sweet perfume and the dust from the construction site. Vivian didn’t seem to mind my presence. She excitedly pointed at the night sky, beginning to envision the future. “Lucas, I want to build the tallest building here. I’ve even thought of the name-I’ll name it after you. Do you like it?” Lucas looked at her, his eyes so tender they could drown someone. “As long as you designed it, I like it.” Vivian turned to look at me provocatively, then asked Lucas, “What if Jade designed it?” Lucas didn’t even spare me a peripheral glance, coldly spitting out a sentence. “A building without soul is just a pile of garbage.” A pile of garbage. So that was his definition of the blueprints I’d drawn around the clock for three years. My sleepless revisions were worthless in his eyes. I gripped the liquor bottle in my hand tighter, my knuckles white. Since it’s garbage, let’s burn it. Burn it completely clean. Then none of us can have it. “You’re standing in a garbage heap right now.” I said coldly. Vivian shrank into Lucas’s arms pitifully. Lucas frowned, about to scold me, when the elevator stopped. As soon as we exited, several dusty workers surrounded us. They were subcontractor workers who’d been owed wages for half a year. Seeing people come up, their emotions instantly flared. “Pay us! Nobody leaves until we get paid today!” The lead foreman recognized me at a glance. After all, I was usually the one running around sites solving problems. That so-called genius designer Vivian couldn’t even read blueprints, let alone come to such dirty places. “She’s in charge! Get the money from her!” I was shoved, lost my footing, and fell hard onto a pile of rebar nearby. The sharp threaded steel cut through my arm, burning with pain. Instinctively, I looked toward Lucas. In the first second of the chaos, Lucas had pulled Vivian behind him, protecting her seamlessly within his safety circle. He watched coldly as I was surrounded by a group of angry men, as if this were just a farce unrelated to him. “You’re the Reynolds heiress. You should handle this.” His voice cut through the noisy crowd, reaching my ears clearly. I climbed up from the ground and didn’t look at him again. Grabbing a rusty iron rod from the ground, I stared viciously at the approaching workers. In the chaos, no one noticed the change in the corner. A worker’s cigarette butt fell onto a mountain of foam insulation boards. Flames instantly shot up, igniting the polystyrene boards. Black smoke silently snaked out from the corner. A pungent smell drilled into my nostrils. It was the characteristic toxic smell of burning polystyrene-suffocating. I whipped around to find the only escape route completely sealed by a wall of fire.

Jade’s POV The fire spread incredibly fast. Black smoke poured in through the ventilation ducts. The alarm shrieked piercingly, as if trying to puncture eardrums. Vivian covered her mouth, half her body draped over Lucas, tears streaming from the smoke. “Lucas, I’m scared…” Lucas said nothing, just held her tightly, his brow furrowed deeply. He searched for an exit in the chaos. So did I. But we quickly discovered the only escape route was half-blocked by collapsed debris, with the remaining gap filled with fire. The emergency box on the wall was red, especially conspicuous against the gray and black. Lucas was faster than me. He yanked open the glass door of the emergency box. Inside lay a single smoke mask. Only one. In that instant, time seemed to freeze. Around us were the crackling sounds of burning and workers’ shouts, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat. Lucas grabbed the mask. Without any hesitation, he fastened it over Vivian’s face. “Cover your mouth and nose. Don’t move.” The smoke seemed to come alive, rushing into my throat. I coughed violently. My throat felt like I’d swallowed a handful of red-hot coals, the burning sensation instantly spreading to my lungs. “Lucas…” I tried to call him, but my voice came out only as broken gasps. Lucas picked up Vivian, who wore the mask and was quietly sobbing. He turned his head and glanced at me through the swirling black smoke. “Cover your mouth and nose and keep up!” Keep up? In this smoke density, without protection, every step was stealing time from death. I clutched my collar, trying to filter out some of the poison, but that suffocating smell was still pervasive. My head began to spin. My vision gradually blurred. I watched Lucas’s retreating figure. He walked so quickly, so steadily, Vivian in his arms protected impenetrably. I tried to catch up, but tripped on something and fell heavily onto the scalding concrete floor. The figure ahead didn’t pause, didn’t even look back. The footsteps grew more and more distant. I lay on the ground, gripping tightly the iron rod I’d used for self-defense earlier. Heat from the floor seeped through the fabric. My consciousness began to fade. In his heart, my life wasn’t even worth a single hair on Vivian’s head. When the firefighters rushed in, I’d already lost consciousness. … When I woke again, I was in the hospital’s nebulizer room. My throat felt like it was stuck with countless knife blades. Each breath came with tearing pain. I wore an oxygen mask, trying to speak, but could only make a hoarse, ugly “heh-heh” sound. In the next bed, Vivian sat in a wheelchair. She was actually completely unharmed, not even a scratch, but that didn’t stop her from putting on a weak, post-trauma appearance. Lucas sat by her bed, holding a bowl of warm pear soup, scooping a spoonful, blowing on it to cool it, then bringing it to her lips. “Jade inhaled so much smoke trying to save me…” Vivian’s eyes reddened, her voice soft, “Lucas, am I a burden?” Lucas’s expression was indifferent. He used a tissue to wipe the soup from the corner of her mouth. “It’s not your fault.” He said. “She was just too slow.” I stared at them, my fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly. Seeming to sense my gaze, Lucas turned around. He looked at me, his eyes completely devoid of warmth. “In that situation, there was only one mask.” He explained coldly. “Vivian’s hands are for writing and drawing-they’re works of art. They couldn’t risk any fire damage. But you…” He paused, his gaze sweeping over my bandaged neck. “What’s wrong with Jade?” Vivian asked on cue. Lucas withdrew his gaze, placing the spoon back in the bowl with a crisp sound. “Your voice being hoarse doesn’t matter. You don’t say anything good normally anyway.” I didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. To protect that impostor’s hands, he destroyed the real creator’s voice. The burning in my throat was nothing compared to the chill in my heart. “Don’t say anything good normally”? So these past years, all my reminders and care sounded like noise to him. I yanked out the IV, grabbed a glass medicine bottle from the table beside me, and hurled it at the floor with all my strength. Crash! The sound of shattering glass was especially jarring in the quiet hospital room. “Ah!” Vivian dramatically shrank into Lucas’s arms like a startled little rabbit. “Jade, don’t be angry, it’s all my fault…” I pointed at the door, forcing out a single hoarse word from my throat. “Get… out…” The sound was so ugly even I found it foreign. Vivian covered her face, crying, pulling at Lucas’s sleeve. Lucas stood up, his brow furrowed, clearly having lost patience with my unreasonable tantrum. He put his arm around Vivian and walked out. At the doorway, he stopped and looked back at me coldly. “Your voice is ruined, but your temper’s gotten worse.” He warned. “Reflect on yourself.” Not long after, a nurse came in to change the dressing. Seeing the glass shards all over the floor and medicine dripping from the IV tube, she frowned and complained. “So difficult to deal with.” I closed my eyes. Two tears slid from the corners down into my temples. Lucas, you win.

Jade’s POV The day I was discharged, no car from the Reynolds family came to pick me up. I took a taxi back to the hillside villa myself. My throat was wrapped in thick bandages. My left hand carried a large bag of anti-inflammatory medication from the hospital. My right hand still ached faintly. The villa was silent. A few maids polishing vases saw me, their eyes evasive, quickly lowering their heads as if seeing something unlucky. I ignored them and went straight upstairs. The moment I pushed open the study door, I froze. This was my private domain, originally filled with my architectural models, blueprints, and that drafting table I’d used for five years. Now the room was empty. Everything was gone, replaced by several huge packing boxes labeled “To Be Cleared.” I rushed over and tore open a box. Inside, my life’s work was stuffed haphazardly. Only the vintage crystal inkwell was missing. I frantically tore open the tape with my fingernails. The boxes were a mess of my heart and soul. Broken models, crumpled design drawings, and carelessly discarded professional books. I searched through every box. The inkwell was gone. That was the bottle I’d used to dip ink and write letters in the dark chamber. Beneath the heavy crystal base, my initials were engraved. It was the only physical evidence that could prove my identity. I grabbed a passing maid, pointing at the empty room, making urgent sounds from my throat. The maid was startled by me and shrank back timidly. “Mr. Hayes ordered the clearing.” “Mr. Hayes said Vivian needed a south-facing studio. This room has the best light, so it was cleared for Miss Vivian.” I stared at her, my hands tracing a square in the air. The maid understood. “You’re looking for that old inkwell?” Her eyes wandered. “Mr. Hayes said even though it’s old, it’s still an antique, so he gave it to Miss Vivian for calligraphy practice.” Gave it to her for practice? My name was engraved on the bottom of that inkwell. If Vivian used it, if she cleaned it, that engraving would be exposed. Then all her lies would collapse. But if she discovered that engraving… She would destroy the evidence. This was my last chance. I pushed past the maid and ran toward the studio at the end of the hallway. Even if I had to fight for it, I had to get that evidence back.

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In the sixth year after I went blind for Adrian, he stepped out of a luxury car with his pregnant wife in his arms. He completely ignored my mom being kicked out of the hospital. He gripped my chin with a cold laugh. “What a pathetic sight. When you abandoned me, did you ever think you’d have a day like this?” I was used to his cruel words, until he turned and scooped up another woman. “There are steps ahead. You can’t see, so I’ll carry you.” I froze. Why was Lily blind too? The person who donated corneas to Adrian was me! Ava’s POV In the sixth year after I went blind for Adrian, I ran into him at the hospital entrance. My vegetative mother and I had been kicked out of the hospital for unpaid bills. Meanwhile, Adrian was helping a radiantly happy Lily out of a luxury car for her prenatal checkup. After six years apart, he suddenly rushed up to me, his voice filled with disbelief. “Ava? You… why didn’t you tell me you went blind?” My whole body stiffened as I clutched my white cane in embarrassment. “It’s none of your business.” Just then, a familiar female voice came from beside me. “Honey, who is it?” Adrian’s tone instantly became incredibly gentle. “Someone unimportant.” Listening to his familiar inflection, my heart felt like it was being pricked with needles, a dense, pervasive pain. He had always been this tender only with people he loved. He lifted Lily into his arms. “There are steps ahead. You can’t see, so I’ll carry you.” I raised my head in shock. Why couldn’t Lily see either? Before I could figure it out, several security guards came running out with batons, barking at me. “What are you still doing here? Get lost!” I immediately shielded my mother’s stretcher behind me. “What right do you have to kick us out? Years ago, I donated my eyes to Adrian, and his mother personally promised that my mom could stay at the hospital for the rest of her life!” The security guards burst out laughing as if they’d heard the joke of the century, spitting at me. “You lying bitch! It was Miss Lily who donated her eyes to Mr. Reed!” “That’s impossible!” My body trembled uncontrollably. A crowd of onlookers gradually gathered around. “This girl looks pretty pitiful. What’s going on?” “Pitiful?” A shrill female voice rang out. “I heard she was Mr. Reed’s mistress for four years, and now that he’s married, she’s pretending to be the benefactor who donated eyes! Everyone knows Miss Lily loved Mr. Reed so deeply she donated her perfectly good eyes without hesitation!” “What a shameless whore!” The vile insults stabbed into my heart like knives, followed by foul-smelling garbage being hurled at me. Suddenly, a worn shoe slammed hard into my forehead. Searing pain shot through me as I cried out through bloody tears. “I’m not! I’m not pretending!” Just then, Adrian, who had turned back, grabbed me by the collar and yanked me up, his voice laced with poison. “What a pathetic sight.” “When you abandoned me, did you ever think you’d have a day like this?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the sourness making my eyes burn. That year, my mother and I were fishing when we found a handsome blind man. He said his name was Adrian Reed and that he’d run away from an arranged marriage. He was irritable and extremely proud, but I happened to have a temper too. The two of us bickered from the moment we met, and somehow, we fell in love. Until our second year together, a wealthy woman found me. “Five million dollars. Leave my son.” That’s when I learned Adrian was the sole heir of the wealthy Reed family, and he’d jumped into the sea to escape his arranged marriage. And now, the Reed family was dragging him back to complete the wedding! The first time Adrian was forced home, he furiously smashed up the entire mansion. The second time they brought him back, he destroyed the house again. The third time, he held a knife to his own throat and declared to everyone. “In this life, I only recognize Ava as mine!” But everything changed the year we graduated from college. Mom was tricked into going to the border, and Adrian had an accident while rescuing her. In the end, Mom became a vegetable, and Adrian nearly lost his life. At the hospital, Adrian’s mother threw money in my face again. “Leave my son! You’re not on the same level. He nearly died for you. He’s done more than enough! Your mother’s in a vegetative state. The medical bills must be astronomical, right?” I understood her implication. “Fine. I’ll leave.” I looked at Adrian lying unconscious in the hospital bed. “I heard… his eyes can be treated, they just need suitable corneas.” I smiled bitterly as tears fell to the floor. “I’ll donate my eyes to him. I don’t want to owe him anything. This way we’ll be even.” Adrian’s mother looked at me with unexpected attention. “Alright. In that case, the Reed family will take care of your mother for the rest of her life.” But in just six short years, she’d completely forgotten about us! “Back then, I promised your mother I’d take good care of you.” Adrian’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. He gripped my chin, barely concealing his hatred. “You’re coming back with me!” I bit my lip, struggling. “I won’t!” Adrian suddenly laughed. “You don’t have a choice! If your mom doesn’t get back on life support soon, she’ll die.”

Ava’s POV At the mention of my mother, I instantly deflated. I opened my mouth, and after a long moment, forced out a single word. “Fine.” Adrian raised his hand in satisfaction, and the bodyguards behind him immediately carried my mother’s stretcher back to the VIP ward. The late autumn wind scraped across my face. I was so cold I clutched the corner of my coat, my cane trembling slightly in my hand. Until Adrian’s voice rang out again. “Get in the car.” I moved toward his voice, but just as I reached the car, Adrian suddenly stuck out his foot in front of me. “My shoe’s dirty. Clean it.” As he spoke, he casually pulled something from the car and tossed it to me. I caught the long, thick piece of fabric, and suddenly felt a pattern. My breathing came to an abrupt halt. This wasn’t just any fabric-it was the first scarf I’d ever knitted for Adrian, and the only one! A sharp pain lanced through my heart. My eyes burned, but I bit down hard on my lip. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up.” Adrian urged impatiently. I forced down the sourness and crouched down, each wipe feeling like self-torture. After the final swipe, I stood and handed the scarf back to Adrian. He frowned as he took it, didn’t even glance at it, and casually tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Dirty thing. Might as well throw it away.” Along with the scarf, the last remnants of my feelings for Adrian were also tossed into the garbage. I lowered my eyes, hiding my tears. Back at the Reed mansion, Adrian sat on the sofa, mocking me. “Explain. What exactly happened to your eyes? Did you catch some disease messing around abroad and go blind?” The sharp words pierced my heart like needles. I’d long grown used to his harsh tongue, but my heart still contracted painfully beyond my control. I clenched my fists tightly, instinctively shouting. “I didn’t! My eyes were clearly donated to…” Before I could finish, the sound of the door opening came from the entrance. Lily walked in with empty, unfocused eyes, surrounded by several maids. “Lily.” Adrian immediately stood to greet her. “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?” Lily glanced in my direction with her hollow eyes, which trembled slightly, then smiled weakly. “I can manage on my own.” She paused. “Honey, I think I left the medicine the doctor prescribed in the car. Could you go get it?” Adrian agreed without hesitation. “Sure, I’ll go right now.” As he turned, he didn’t even glance at me and quickly left the living room. The maids tactfully retreated. The moment they were gone, Lily’s previously weak and harmless demeanor vanished. She walked straight up to me and snorted coldly. “Ava, why won’t you just go away?” My body shook. “You’re faking? You can see?” Lily burst out laughing. “That’s right. Thanks to your eyes, I’m now the benefactor who saved Adrian, while you’re just a hypocritical woman who abandoned him for money!” My chest tightened. Trembling, I lunged forward and pinned Lily to the ground, screaming. “How could you do this?” Lily only laughed harder. “I’m warning you. Keep everything that happened back then to yourself. Otherwise, tomorrow will be the day your mom stops breathing!” I suddenly fell silent and collapsed to the floor, releasing my grip. Just then, a brutal force yanked me up. “Ava! What the hell are you doing?” I was thrown down hard. Then Adrian tenderly gathered Lily from the floor into his arms. “Lily, are you okay?” Lily said tearfully and pitifully. “Honey, is she a new maid? I only asked her a few questions and she tried to hit me!” “I…” I tried desperately to explain, but Adrian cut me off. “That’s right, she’s newly hired help.” Adrian’s lips curved up as he shouted at me. “What are you standing there for? Get back to the servants’ quarters!” I flinched in fear-this was the first time Adrian had ever spoken to me so harshly! Late that night, I lay on a cramped bed crying. After a long while, I fumbled for a phone designed for the blind and made a call. “It’s me. You once promised me three favors. Does that still stand?” The voice on the other end immediately responded. “Of course.” I took a deep breath. “First, help me and my mom leave this place. Second, I need ten million dollars. Third…” I paused. “I want Adrian to know the whole truth. I don’t owe him anything!” The voice on the other end didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Alright. Give me one week. I’ll arrange everything.”

Ava’s POV The next day, after being bossed around all morning, I walked into the dining room. A familiar smell hit me, and I stopped in my tracks. Chicken soup! I knew this smell all too well. That year I had a terrible cold and was burning with fever, deliriously mumbling that I wanted my mom’s soup. Adrian panicked and fumbled his way into the kitchen despite being blind, only to get his hands covered in blisters from the stove. When I woke up and saw the injuries on his hands, I was both heartbroken and angry. I could only pull him along, teaching him over and over to recognize ingredients by touch, to judge the heat by sound… When the soup was finally done, he excitedly took my hand. “I learned it! Ava, from now on I’ll only make this for you.” In a daze, I heard Adrian’s voice again. “Lily, does it taste good?” My fingers gripping the cane tightened sharply. Right. He didn’t love me anymore. How could his promises still count? “Ava.” Adrian’s voice suddenly turned cold. “Come serve Lily some soup.” I steadied myself and carefully moved toward the sound, gripping my cane. Following the steam rising from the soup bowl, I found the dining table. My fingertips had just touched the rim when Lily said sweetly. “Thank you. Please be careful.” I frowned and slowly scooped up the soup with a spoon. Just as the spoon was about to reach Lily, I suddenly felt her shift her head slightly. Adrian immediately snapped. “Ava, you’re just blind, not handless! Can’t you even feed someone properly? Hurry up and wipe Lily’s mouth!” I clenched my fists secretly and patiently pulled a tissue from my pocket, fumbling to wipe Lily’s mouth. The moment my fingers touched Lily’s face, she suddenly screamed and jerked away. The soup bowl completely overturned, scalding soup spilling all over me. I gasped sharply. Lily threw herself into Adrian’s arms, her voice breaking with tears. “Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s just that this maid’s hands are so rough they hurt my face.” Adrian held her, gently patting her back. “Silly girl, no need to apologize. You’ve been pampered since childhood-don’t I know how delicate your skin is?” Lily nuzzled into his embrace. “Honey, stop…” Adrian’s gaze suddenly turned on me, cruel and cutting. “Unlike some people who are born lowly. No amount of money can change that poor fate!” The moment he finished speaking, I felt my heart being violently torn open. My hands really weren’t delicate. I’d worked with my mother fishing by the sea since childhood, weathered by wind and sun, gradually developing calluses on my palms. But the Adrian of the past had held my hands and kissed those calluses tenderly. “How could I ever find them ugly? I only regret not meeting you sooner, letting you suffer so much…” So had he stopped loving me, or had all those words been lies from the very beginning? “Apologize to Lily right now!” Adrian snarled viciously. “I’m sorry…” I dug my nails into my palm, feeling the warmth in my heart gradually dissipate as cold wind howled through, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe. Just then, the phone in my pocket suddenly rang. I grabbed onto it like a lifeline, hastily fumbling to answer. “Is this Miss Ava? This is the hospital. Your mother is showing signs of waking up. Please come as soon as possible.” The words struck like thunder in my ears. Instantly, all the sourness that had built up in my heart vanished. I trembled with excitement. “Really? That’s wonderful… I’ll come right away!” Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist. The phone was violently snatched away and smashed on the floor. Adrian gripped me. “You’re not going!”

Ava’s POV “Give me back my phone!” I lunged at him frantically. “What right do you have to stop me? My mom is waking up!” With just a light push, Adrian sent me stumbling to the floor. He looked down at me without an ounce of pity. “You think I’d give you another chance to leave? You’re not going anywhere except here.” I clutched desperately at his pant leg. “Adrian, you can’t do this! That’s my mother!” I cried and pounded on his back. “Please, let me go see her…” But the next second, Adrian violently yanked his pants free, the force making me stagger back and slam hard into the corner of the dining table. “Tired? Let me take you to rest.” He tenderly lifted Lily into his arms and kissed her forehead. As he passed me, his eyes turned brutal. “If you dare make a scene, I’ll turn off your mother’s ventilator right now.” Lily lazily leaned against Adrian and glanced at me triumphantly, saying softly. “Pathetic.” My whole body trembled. Clutching my cane, tears streamed down my face. Heavy rain fell that night. I secretly felt my way to the door, only to find all the exits locked. No. I had to go see my mom… I fumbled to the window and without hesitation grabbed the frame and jumped down. Fortunately it was the first floor. I bit down hard and slowly stood up against the wall, gripping my cane tightly as I headed in the direction I remembered the hospital to be. The rain was too heavy, blurring my hearing and sense of touch. I carefully shuffled forward, constantly murmuring. “Excuse me, which way to the hospital? Please help me…” All along the way, car horns blared constantly. “Are you blind? Can’t you watch where you’re going!” “If you’re blind, don’t go outside!” “I’m sorry…” I kept apologizing. I don’t know how long I walked. Suddenly I tripped, my cane hitting a hard object. Before I could react, my forehead slammed hard into a lamppost. A dull thud, then blunt pain exploded instantly. My vision was already pitch black, but now my ears were ringing and even the surrounding car sounds became muffled. I staggered back two steps, lost my balance and fell to the ground. My knees hit the concrete-another piercing pain. All the grievances and fear completely collapsed in that moment. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I covered my face with both hands, my shoulders shaking violently. In a trance, I remembered when Adrian’s mother talked to me years ago. After returning, I packed my things and moved from our apartment back to my dorm. Unable to sleep that night, I suddenly received a message from Adrian. “Come down. I’m outside your dorm.” I ran downstairs to find Adrian soaked through in the pouring rain, his face covered in obvious scrapes. Through the rain, not knowing how many times he’d fallen, he’d walked step by step to find me! I softened and hugged him. The usually sullen Adrian cried pitifully. “Ava, don’t leave. Without you I’ll go crazy…” Suddenly the sound of an ambulance siren reached my ears. I jerked my head up, joy flooding my heart. I’d actually made it! I quickly scrambled up, but just as I lifted my leg, someone grabbed me. A familiar scent enveloped me. My whole body stiffened. “Well, well. You’ve really grown some nerve, Ava.” Adrian threw me roughly into the car. The door slammed shut with a bang. “Drive!” I frantically pounded on the window. “Let me out! I need to see my mom! Please, Adrian, just one look!” Adrian pressed down hard on my flailing hands and bit down viciously on my lip. “Let go of me!” I kept twisting my body until I tasted thick blood, and only then did Adrian slowly release me. “You like running away so much? Fine.” He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, enunciating each word. “Tomorrow you’ll go to the cathedral for Lily and pray.” “Do that, and I’ll let you see your mother.”

Ava’s POV I froze, tears of bitterness streaming down my face. The year Adrian and I first got together, I heard the nearby cathedral’s prayers were especially effective, so without telling him, I went to the cathedral alone early one morning to pray. I only asked God to have mercy and let Adrian regain his sight, to see me with his own eyes. When Adrian found out, he went on a hunger strike for three days, refusing even water, and finally landed himself in the hospital. He gripped my hand desperately, his voice breaking. “Ava, why are you so foolish? Promise me you’ll never go again, okay? I’d rather be blind forever than have you suffer…” But now? He was actually making me walk that path again-for another woman! I raised my hand and roughly wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “Fine. I agree.” The next day, before dawn, I was already standing at the cathedral entrance. Adrian lit a cigarette, and through the swirling smoke, mocked me. “It’s not too late to back out now.” I ignored him, gripping my cane, and slowly began. The cathedral’s prayer bells rang, as if returning me to years ago. My eyes had been full of hope then. “May the one I love regain his sight soon…” But this time, I closed my eyes. “I only ask to have nothing more to do with Adrian Reed.” Many passersby walked past the cathedral, curious and pitying gazes constantly falling on me. “This girl is blind, right? What’s she praying for so devoutly?” “Isn’t it obvious? She must be praying for sight.” “Maybe her love life is rough and she’s praying for romance?” I ignored them all, mechanically repeating my actions. An elderly priest happened to come out. He remembered me. Seeing my bedraggled state, he could only pray with compassion. “May the Lord bless you. I hope you can escape this suffering soon.” I pulled my lips into an ugly smile, my voice weak. “You’re teasing me again…” By afternoon, I was so exhausted I was nearly ready to pass out, but images of my mother lying in a hospital bed kept flashing through my mind. “Ava, almost there. You’re almost there…” My legs trembling, I took the cross the priest handed me. In that instant, the small cross felt as heavy as a branding iron, burning my palm. I fumbled to stand, staggering down the mountain. The path down was even harder than going up. By the time I returned to the Reed mansion, it was deep into the night. I was covered in mud, utterly disheveled. Voices drifted faintly from the living room. I paused mid-step, instinctively lightening my movements as I headed toward the sound. “Her mother’s been responding well to the new medication lately.” Adrian’s cold voice filtered through the half-open door. Joy leaped in my chest. Suddenly nothing hurt anymore. But the next second, Adrian sneered coldly. “Stop using it. Switch back to the old one. Just keep her alive. It doesn’t matter if she never wakes up.” “Only if Ava’s mother stays in the hospital forever will Ava obediently do what I say for the rest of her life.” How dare he do this! I slammed the door open, the force making it crash against the wall with a loud bang.

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Sixteen years ago, my uncle gifted me a studio apartment. Today, its value has skyrocketed to $8.65 million. My uncle suddenly called, saying he urgently needed $3.4 million for a crisis. I was a bit hesitant; after all, it’s a massive amount of money. Unexpectedly, my husband jumped in before I could speak: “When your uncle gave you that condo back then, he definitely wasn’t expecting anything in return, right?” I nodded. He sneered: “Then what right does he have to ask you for money now? “What he gave you back then is yours. Now that the property is worth a fortune, he wants to leech off it? Keep dreaming!” I froze completely. And my uncle, on the other end of the line, heard every single word. 1 A dead silence fell over the phone line. That silence, transmitted through the receiver, was like a freezing steel needle piercing straight into my eardrum. Every second felt like being roasted in boiling oil. I could imagine how my uncle’s honest, good-natured face must have turned ashen in that instant. “Uncle…” I forced the word out, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with waterlogged cotton. Beep. The call was disconnected. It wasn’t an angry slam of the phone, but the kind of disconnect where the phone simply slips from powerless fingers. My hand was still frozen in mid-air, the phone screen already dark. The bright lights in the living room now made me shiver with cold. Arthur, my husband, the man I had shared a bed with for five years, sat on the sofa opposite me. His face showed not a sliver of guilt; he even looked somewhat smug. “See? Hangs up the moment I call him out. Guilty conscience.” He picked up an apple from the coffee table and took a huge bite, the crisp sound echoing in the room. “I’m doing this for your own good, Chloe.” “You’re just too soft-hearted, too easily swayed.” “These poor relatives, they just see you living well now, your property worth a fortune, and think they can come looking for a handout.” “Today he has the nerve to ask for three point four million. Tomorrow he’ll ask for more.” “It’s a bottomless pit, and we are not jumping in.” Every word he said was like a poisoned knife, accurately stabbing the softest part of my heart. I looked at him. This face that I once thought was incredibly handsome and reliable now seemed so foreign, so ugly. “Arthur, that’s my uncle.” My voice was trembling, carrying an anger I hadn’t even realized I possessed. “When my parents passed away, all my relatives avoided me like the plague.” “It was my uncle. He emptied his life savings to buy me this condo, just to give me a roof over my head.” “That kind of grace can’t be measured with money.” Arthur scoffed, casually tossing the apple core into the trash can. “Grace? Can grace put food on the table?” “Wake up, Chloe! What kind of society do we live in now? You’re still hung up on that sentimental nonsense?” “When he bought you that condo, how much was it worth? A couple hundred grand, tops.” “And now? Eight point six five million!” His eyes gleamed with greed. The number coming from his mouth carried a scorching heat. “He’s trying to use a couple hundred grand investment to cash out over eight million from us.” “He’s got it all figured out, hasn’t he?” I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head in an instant. So in his eyes, my uncle’s kindness was nothing more than a calculated investment. “Us?” I caught the specific word he used, a chill rising from the soles of my feet. “Arthur, this condo is my pre-marital asset.” His face darkened instantly. “Chloe, what is that supposed to mean?” “We are husband and wife. Isn’t what’s yours also mine?” “Have I not worked hard for this family? Do I get no credit?” He started listing all his “sacrifices” over the years. Going to work every day, accompanying me to visit my family during the holidays. He even painted himself as a peerless, devoted husband who worked tirelessly for our family without complaint. But I only felt a deep sense of irony. We’ve been married for five years, and I’ve borne the brunt of the household expenses. Because my salary is higher than his. As for his money, in his words, “A man needs to socialize and save up for big things.” Now, he was starting to dream about that eight point six five million. “Once we sell this place, we’ll upgrade to a big mansion in the Southside, the kind with a garden.” “And we’ll buy a starter home downtown for my brother. He’s not getting any younger.” “With the rest, we’ll put it in savings, and that covers our future kids’ college funds.” He planned it out so naturally. As if my uncle’s existence was solely to provide him and his family with a more luxurious life. My heart went completely cold. This man, whom I had loved for five years, who I thought would be my rock for life. In the end, in his world, family ties, gratitude, everything paled in comparison to a fraction of that money. I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Any words felt pale and powerless in the face of such naked greed. I turned, walked into the bedroom, and closed the door. Shutting out all his filthy words. I dug out an old photo album from the deepest part of my nightstand. The cover of the album was yellowed, the edges frayed. On the very first page was a photo of me and my uncle. I was sixteen that year, having just lost my parents, as thin as a reed. I wore an ill-fitting school uniform, my eyes full of fear and confusion. My uncle stood beside me, his rough, broad hand wrapped tightly around my shoulder. His face showed unconcealable exhaustion, but the look he gave me was full of determination and tenderness. The background of the photo was the very studio apartment I was living in now. Back then, this place was just a barren construction site. But my uncle pointed at the site and said to me: “Chloe, don’t be afraid. This will be your home from now on.” Tears, without any warning, smashed onto the photo album, blurring a small patch. The bedroom door was violently pushed open. Arthur barged in, reeking of alcohol. “Chloe, I’m warning you, you are not allowed to contact that uncle of yours again!” His face was flushed, his eyes fierce. “And don’t you dare bring up money! Not a single word!” “If you dare give him money behind my back, we are done!” I looked at him coldly. “Arthur, what gives you the right?” He was enraged by my glare, his voice sharply rising. “What gives me the right? Because I’m your husband!” “Everything you eat, wear, and use, what isn’t provided by our Vance family?” “You’re just an orphan with no parents! If I hadn’t been blind enough to marry you, who knows where you’d be drifting right now!” “Do you really think you’re some city socialite?” “Let me tell you, not a single one of those poor beggars from your side of the family is getting a dime from me!” Every sentence was like a resounding slap, landing hard on my face. So, in his heart, I was always just that orphan who had nothing. All my value was attached to that constantly appreciating piece of real estate. I looked at him and suddenly laughed. That laughter even felt strange to myself—shrill, yet full of desolation. This night was destined to be sleepless. I kept my eyes open, staring at the ceiling until the first glimmer of dawn peeked through the window. I made a decision. No matter what, I had to help my uncle. Even if it meant selling this condo. 2 The next day, the doorbell rang urgently and loudly. Through the peephole, I saw my mother-in-law, Martha’s, face etched with anxiety. I knew Arthur’s “reinforcements” had arrived. I opened the door, and Martha shoved past me, charging straight in. “Oh, my poor boy, what happened to you? You look awful.” She grabbed Arthur’s hand, looking him up and down as if he had suffered a massive grievance. Arthur immediately played along, putting on an exhausted and helpless expression. Martha turned her head, her gaze landing on me like a spotlight. “Chloe, I heard.” “Your uncle wants to borrow money from you?” The probing in her tone was as sharp as a needle. I gave a flat “Mm.” “How much?” “Over three million.” Martha gasped, her voice instantly becoming shrill. “Over three million? Why doesn’t he just go rob a bank!” “He’s trying to drain our family dry!” I looked at her coldly: “Mom, that’s my uncle, not a stranger.” “And, he just needs it to turn things around. It’s not like he won’t pay it back.” Martha plopped onto the sofa and started slapping her thigh, wailing. “What ‘turn things around’? When poor relatives borrow money, it’s like throwing meat buns at a dog—it never comes back!” “Chloe, oh Chloe, you can’t be so heartless!” “You’ve married into our Vance family now! Everything you have belongs to the Vance family!” “That condo of yours, even though you bought it before we got married, you married our Arthur, so it’s our family’s property too!” Her logic was literally the logic of a robber. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Mom, that’s really interesting.” “Since when did my condo become your family’s property?” Seeing I wasn’t buying it, Martha immediately changed her tune. She stopped crying, a shrewd, calculating look appearing on her face. “Chloe, let’s do this.” “Just to be safe, and to make your uncle completely give up.” “Add Arthur’s name to the property deed.” “That way, this condo becomes our joint marital property, and it won’t be so easy for him to scheme for it.” Finally, she showed her true colors. This was the real reason she came today. I refused without hesitation. “Impossible.” My one word was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing her scheming. Martha’s face instantly turned a deep shade of purple. “You! You ungrateful wretch!” “Our Vance family must have had eight lifetimes of bad luck to marry a traitor like you!” Arthur, who had been silent on the side, finally found an opportunity to interject. He stood up, walked over to me, and looked down at me from a commanding height. “Chloe, what exactly do you take me and my mom for?” “We are a family!” “Why divide yours and mine in a family?” “You guarding against us like this, have you already planned your way out?” Every accusation he made felt like he was slapping a label of selfishness onto me. I was trembling with anger. “A family?” “My uncle is waiting for life-saving money right now, and what did you guys do?” “Have you treated them like family for even a second?” Martha jumped up from the sofa, pointing at my nose and cursing. “Whether your uncle’s son lives or dies, what does it have to do with our Vance family?” “Why should we use our own money to fill their bottomless pit?” That sentence was like a thunderclap exploding in my brain. I looked at the mother and son in front of me, at their self-righteous, cold-blooded, and ruthless faces. For the first time, I truly, genuinely entertained the thought of divorce. This home was not my home. They were not my family. They were just two leeches entrenched on my property, vainly attempting to suck me dry of my last drop of blood. I took a deep breath, suppressing the surging nausea in my stomach. “Get out.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried unquestionable resolve. Arthur and Martha were both stunned. They probably never expected that the usually docile me would say such a thing. “What did you say?” Arthur’s eyes widened. “I said, get out of my condo.” I enunciated every word clearly. Martha reacted and tried to lunge at me, throwing a tantrum. “You little bitch, you dare kick me out! I’ll beat you to death!” I sidestepped to avoid her and used all my strength to push them both toward the door. Arthur was still trying to reason, or rather, threaten me. “Chloe, you’re crazy! You’re going to sever ties with us over an outsider?” I didn’t answer. I just forcefully shoved them out the door. Then, with a loud bang, I slammed the door shut. I turned the key and deadbolted it. The world was finally quiet. I leaned against the cold door, my body sliding down uncontrollably. Yet a voice inside me told me with absolute clarity: This condo, this last shred of dignity, no one is going to take it away. 3 I sat on the cold floor until my legs went numb. After calming down, the first thing I did was return my uncle’s call. The phone rang for a long time before it was answered. “Hello?” It was my aunt’s voice, thick with a nasal tone and exhaustion. “Auntie, it’s me, Chloe.” “Where’s Uncle?” The line was silent for a moment before my uncle’s hoarse voice came through. “Chloe.” “Uncle is fine, don’t worry.” “Yesterday… I was out of line. Don’t fight with your husband over it.” He was still thinking of me. My eyes instantly welled up. “Uncle, please don’t say that.” “I’m the one who’s sorry.” “What exactly happened? You have to tell me.” Under my persistent questioning, my uncle finally told me the truth. My cousin, Leo, was diagnosed with acute leukemia. He needed an immediate bone marrow transplant. A match had been found, but the exorbitant $3.4 million surgical fee was like a mountain crushing this already modest family. “…Your cousin is still young, only twenty-five…” My uncle’s voice choked up. “The doctor said as long as we have the money, the success rate of the surgery is very high…” On my end of the line, I was already in tears. That was life-saving money. And I, because of Arthur’s bastard words, had wasted precious time. Guilt and self-blame drowned me like a tidal wave. “Uncle, don’t worry.” I wiped my tears, my voice carrying a firmness that even surprised me. “I’ll figure out the money.” “I will definitely get the money together for you in the shortest possible time.” Hanging up, I immediately opened my mobile banking app to check the joint account Arthur and I shared. But when I saw the balance, I was completely stunned. $36,217. We had been married for five years, and our combined salaries were over $30,000 a month. Minus daily expenses and the mortgage, we should have had at least a seven-figure sum saved up over five years. But now, there was only this fraction left. My heart sank, inch by inch. I called Arthur immediately. When the call connected, his voice still carried anger. “What? Figured it out? Ready to apologize to my mom?” I ignored his blustering and asked directly: “Where is the money in our joint account?” Arthur clearly paused. “What money? Isn’t it all in the card?” “Arthur, I’ll ask you one more time. Where did the money go?” My voice was ice-cold. He probably sensed something was wrong with me and started stammering. “It… it didn’t go anywhere…” “It’s just… my brother needed to buy a car a while ago, so I helped him out a bit.” “Also, my parents’ old house in the hometown needed renovating, so I took some money for that too…” “We’re all family, there’s no need to draw such a clear line…” My heart felt like it was being sliced open with a dull knife, cut by cut. So that was it. So the money I had worked so hard to save had become his capital to subsidize his original family. He used my money to play the role of the “filial son” and “good brother” for his family. Yet, when my uncle’s family was waiting for life-saving money, he spouted those cold-blooded, vicious words. I finally understood. In his heart, we were never a family. I was just an outsider, a host providing flesh and blood for him and his family. This realization struck me like lightning, leaving me freezing cold. I couldn’t rely on him. There was only one way left. Sell this apartment. I opened my laptop and started searching for real estate agents online. This place, which held all my youth and memories, my only sanctuary. Now, it was going to be used to save another family member’s life. I think, if this condo had feelings, it would support me too. My actions were quickly discovered by Arthur. Probably through my computer’s browsing history. He stormed into the study like an enraged lion. “Chloe! Don’t you dare!” He pointed at the agent’s contact info on the screen, his eyes bloodshot. “Let me tell you, don’t even think about selling this condo!” “Don’t even dream about it!” I looked up and met his gaze calmly. “Arthur, we’re done.” My relationship with him had completely hit rock bottom from the moment he insulted my uncle. And now, we were in the abyssal depths below that rock bottom. 4 Arthur and my mother-in-law, in an effort to stop me from selling the condo, started a ridiculous farce. They shadowed me constantly. If I went to the bathroom, my mother-in-law would stand guard at the door. If I went to the kitchen for water, Arthur would follow right behind me. They acted like two prison guards, watching me as if I were a hardened criminal. What’s worse, they confiscated my ID card, my household register, and the original property deed. “Chloe, let’s see how you sell the condo without these!” Arthur locked the documents in a safe, the smugness of a victor on his face. My mother-in-law chimed in from the side: “Exactly, let’s see what you can do now!” “Just stay home quietly and stop thinking about all that nonsense.” They thought this would give them complete control over me. I didn’t resist. I didn’t even argue with them. I just watched them silently, like watching a comical play. My submission made them lower their guard. They thought I had finally yielded and started flaunting their power in front of me. They mocked me every day, their words full of contempt and humiliation. “An orphan with no parents, really thinking she’s a big deal.” “If it weren’t for our Arthur, you’d still be living in some rundown shack.” “Now that your wings have grown a bit, you want to kick our Vance family to the curb?” I listened silently, etching all of this into my memory. But my eyes grew colder day by day. What they didn’t know was that I had reported my ID card lost and gotten a replacement a long time ago. The new ID card was lying quietly in a hidden compartment of a canvas tote bag I used often. They also didn’t know that for something as important as a property deed, how could I not have a backup plan? Copies, the purchase contract, all the relevant documents—I had backups of everything, hidden in a place they would never think of. I used the time when Arthur was at work and my mother-in-law was out grocery shopping to secretly meet with several real estate agents. I chose a middle-aged woman who looked the most professional and reliable. I laid out my situation entirely. After listening, the agent was filled with righteous indignation. “Girl, don’t you worry.” “I’ve seen this kind of thing plenty of times.” “Not having the original deed is a bit of a hassle, but it’s not completely impossible.” “As long as you have the purchase contract and your ID, we can sign an exclusive listing agreement first.” “I’ll help you navigate the rest of the process slowly.” Guided by the agent, I prepared all the necessary listing materials. Arthur and his mother were completely oblivious to this. They were still reveling in the thrill of controlling everything. Watching their smug faces, I felt no anger, only a bone-chilling coldness. That afternoon, while my mother-in-law was taking a nap and Arthur hadn’t finished work yet, I slipped out of the house and signed the exclusive listing agreement with the agent. The moment I signed my name. I knew my counterattack had officially begun. The first step went even smoother than I had imagined. 5 The process of selling the condo was slower than I expected. With every passing day, the anxiety in my heart grew. I was afraid my cousin’s illness couldn’t wait. To speed things up, the agent asked me to find all the old documents related to the condo to see if anything could be used. I dug out a dusty old leather suitcase. This was given to me by my uncle when we moved. He said it was just some unimportant old stuff and told me to put it away. For sixteen years, I had never opened it. I blew the dust off the suitcase and opened the rusted latch. Inside was a thick stack of documents. The original purchase contract, tax invoices, and some miscellaneous receipts. I carefully flipped through them. Hoping to find some useful clues. Just as I picked up the yellowing purchase contract, a folded piece of letter paper fell out from between the pages. The envelope was yellow and brittle, with no name on it. With a bit of confusion, I opened it with trembling hands. The familiar handwriting instantly brought tears to my eyes. It was my uncle’s handwriting. “Chloe, when you read this letter, Uncle might not be around anymore. There are some things I wanted to take to the grave, but after thinking about it, you deserve to know the truth.” My heart seized violently. Fighting back tears, I continued reading. The contents of the letter struck me like a bolt of lightning, splitting my entire being. It turned out that sixteen years ago, when my parents died in that car accident, the party at fault paid $1.2 million in compensation. In that era, this was an astronomical sum. But this money was completely divided up by my so-called relatives, like a pack of hungry wolves. They said I was a girl, destined to marry into another family, a financial burden, and didn’t deserve a penny of it. They said the money should be left for the male heirs of the family to carry on the bloodline. My uncle was just an ordinary worker back then, weak and outnumbered. He fought with them, argued with them, risked his life, and only managed to snatch back $300,000 from the wolves’ mouths. But my uncle felt that this was money bought with my parents’ lives. It was stained with blood and brought bad luck. He didn’t want this money to cast a shadow over my childhood. So, he made a decision. He took out his own hard-earned savings, half a lifetime’s worth, a full $200,000. He combined it with the $300,000, making $500,000. He paid entirely in cash to buy this studio apartment for me. He put the property in my name but told me he “gifted” it to me. He wanted to use this method to erase that ugly past. He wanted me to think that what I received was a pure love, devoid of any impurities. At the end of the letter, my uncle wrote: “Chloe, this is the last memento your parents left you, and it’s all Uncle can do for you.” “No matter what happens in the future, no matter what grievances you suffer, you must remember that this is your home.” “As long as you have this home, you have a foundation.” The letter slipped from my trembling hands. I could no longer control myself and burst into loud sobs. So that was it. This condo was never a gift. It was an inheritance bought with my parents’ lives. It was a sanctuary my uncle built for me with half his life’s blood, sweat, and tears. Hidden within it was the heavy love of my parents and the deepest protection of my uncle. And now, Arthur and Martha, this mother-and-son pair of executioners. What they wanted to snatch was not just a piece of real estate. They wanted to snatch my parents’ legacy, my uncle’s grace, my only root in this world. New grudges and old hatreds all surged into my heart in an instant. My tears slowly dried up. My gaze shifted from endless sorrow to a bone-deep coldness. Arthur, Martha. I’m not just going to win this battle. I’m going to win it spectacularly and make you pay the most agonizing price for your greed and shamelessness.

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I had just clipped the last shirt onto the drying rack when the doorbell rang. Little Zhao from property management stood at the door, pinching a complaint form in his hand. “Ms. Davis, someone reported you for unauthorized drying again.” I poked my head out to look at the balcony. Three shirts, two pairs of pants, one bedsheet. The drying rack was provided by the developer, and the balcony was enclosed. “What’s unauthorized about it?” Little Zhao scratched his head and lowered his voice: “Ms. Money on the fifth floor says the bedsheet you hung is too big. People can see it from downstairs, and it affects the aesthetic of the community.” I live on the seventh floor with an enclosed balcony. Martha Money lives on the fifth floor. What angle did she have to twist her neck to see what I was drying? “Ms. Davis, please do me a favor and take it down.” Little Zhao had a bitter expression. “She can call twelve times a day.” Twelve times. I silently took down the shirts and the pants. The bedsheet was too big; I had to fold it twice to stuff it into the basin. That night, I spread the wet clothes over the back of a chair in my bedroom and closed the window. The whole room felt damp. Martha Money didn’t know that the solar energy system on the roof of this very building she complained about— I designed it. And I paid for it out of my own pocket. 01 After Little Zhao left, I tossed the complaint form into a drawer. There were already seven forms accumulated in that drawer. The earliest one was from three months ago. The content: Seventh-floor resident placed a shoe rack in the public corridor, obstructing passage. My shoe rack is 12 inches wide. The corridor is 6 feet wide. Property management posted a rectification notice, and I moved the shoe rack inside. The second one, two months ago. Content: Seventh-floor resident keeps a pet, suspected of not having a dog license. I have a cat. Cats don’t need dog licenses. But property management still knocked on my door and asked me to show a “pet registration certificate.” I spent half a day going to the community center to get the certificate. The third one, a month and a half ago. Content: Seventh-floor resident making noise late at night, disturbing the peace. That day, I worked overtime until eleven o’clock and came home to take a shower. I used the hairdryer for eight minutes. Martha Money said I woke her up. I live on the seventh floor. She lives on the fifth floor. There are two floors between us. The complaints that followed got increasingly ridiculous. Saying I watered flowers on my balcony and the water dripped onto her windowsill. An enclosed balcony—how did the water drip down two floors? Saying my cat’s meowing was too loud. My cat is a British Shorthair, with a personality just like mine—a quiet type. Saying I leave early and come back late every day, acting suspiciously. Property management was too embarrassed to show me that last complaint. Little Zhao told me privately and told me not to take it to heart. I really didn’t take it to heart. I just didn’t understand— Why was Martha Money targeting me? Mrs. Young helped clear my confusion. Mrs. Young lives on the sixth floor, right between me and Martha Money. One day after work, I ran into her in the elevator. She pulled my arm and whispered: “Chloe, did you offend Martha Money?” I shook my head. “I haven’t even spoken five sentences to her in total.” Mrs. Young sighed. “Then there’s no reason. That’s just how she is. She bullies whoever she can catch.” Mrs. Young said that before retiring, Martha Money worked at a service window for a local neighborhood committee. She did it for over twenty years and developed a habit— She had to manage everything and control everyone. After she retired and had no one to manage, she treated the whole building as her territory. “Last year, little Liu on the fourth floor was forced out by her just three months after moving in.” Mrs. Young lowered her voice. “They just put a stroller in the hallway. She reported them every day and made passive-aggressive comments in the homeowners’ group chat, saying things like, ‘Some people have low class. If they can’t afford to live in a nice community, they shouldn’t force their way in.’” “Liu’s wife had just given birth and cried from anger. In the end, they rented out the apartment and moved away.” I didn’t say anything. Mrs. Young patted the back of my hand. “Don’t take it too seriously. She’s just like that. Everyone just humors her.” Humors her. I’ve heard these three words no less than ten times. Little Zhao said: Humor her. She’ll stop when she’s had enough. Manager Liu from property management said: Ms. Money is just overly enthusiastic. Don’t take it to heart. Even my mom said on the phone: A close neighbor is better than a distant relative. Just endure it. I looked at the seven complaint forms in my drawer and arranged them by date. Endure it. Okay. 02 The eighth complaint came sooner than I expected. Saturday morning at nine o’clock, I was cooking noodles in the kitchen. The doorbell rang. This time it wasn’t Little Zhao; it was Manager Liu in person. Martha Money stood behind him. Martha Money is in her early fifties, with permed, reddish-brown curly hair. She was wearing a purple embroidered jacket and a gold necklace. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her chin slightly raised. That posture was all too familiar. The standard stance of a complaint window clerk. “Comrade Chloe Davis,” Manager Liu cleared his throat, “Ms. Money reported that your cat defecated in the hallway, affecting public sanitation.” “My cat never leaves the apartment.” “Then where did that lump in the hallway come from?” Martha Money pulled up a photo on her phone. I took a look. It was a grayish-black lump in the stairwell corner between the sixth and seventh floors. “Is this cat poop?” I asked. “If it’s not cat poop, what is it?” Martha Money’s voice rose. “Mud.” I pointed at the photo and zoomed in. “Look, there are crushed leaves in here.” “Last week, when the roof water pipe was repaired, a worker tracked mud down.” “Little Zhao even sent a notice in the homeowners’ group chat that day.” Martha Money’s face stiffened for a second. But only for a second. “That still doesn’t prove your cat hasn’t pooped in the hallway!” She turned to Manager Liu. “Did you investigate? Did you test it?” Manager Liu stood in the middle, looking back and forth. Finally, he coughed. “Ms. Davis, how about you send the cat to a pet store for boarding? It would save us from having constant disputes.” I heard him right. She falsely accused me, and the conclusion was that I had to send my cat away. “No.” Martha Money glared: “What kind of attitude is that?” “My attitude is very good. The cat stays. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to continue cooking my noodles.” I closed the door. The noodles were already mushy. I thought she would calm down for a few days. She didn’t. Coming home from work on Monday, Mrs. Young was waiting for me at the building entrance. She didn’t look well. “Chloe, you should check the homeowners’ group chat.” I opened my phone. The group chat had exploded. Martha Money had sent a long message, over three hundred words, every word a vicious attack: “Neighbors, it’s not that I’m being nosy. Ever since that young woman on the seventh floor moved in, our building hasn’t had a day of peace. She keeps a cat without closing her windows, and its meowing disturbs everyone. She piles junk in the hallway, and her shoe rack blocks the way. She blows her hair in the middle of the night, making the whole building vibrate. As a senior resident, what’s wrong with me making a suggestion? She slammed the door right in my face. I’m a woman in my fifties being bullied by a young person. Is no one going to do anything about this?” Over three hundred words, and not a single one was true. But people in the group were already replying. “Don’t be angry, Ms. Money. Young people don’t know any better.” “Yeah, Ms. Money worries so much about our building.” “I’ve seen that girl on the seventh floor. She’s cold as ice, not easy to get along with.” I scrolled to the last message. It was from old Mr. Zhou on the third floor. “Ms. Money is right. In an old community like ours, we have to rely on enthusiastic neighbors to manage things, otherwise it’ll be chaos.” I placed my phone on my lap. There were forty-seven people in the group. Eleven had replied, uniformly taking her side. Thirty-five remained silent. Not a single person spoke up for me. Not one. Mrs. Young sighed beside me. “I wanted to say something to help you, but…” “It’s fine.” I cut her off. “Mrs. Young, it’s really fine.” She looked at me hesitantly, but eventually walked away. I stood at the building entrance and read the group messages one more time. Then I exited the homeowners’ group chat. That night, I opened my laptop and pulled up the backend of the roof solar energy system. All operating data was normal. Sixty-two monocrystalline silicon panels, with a total installed capacity of 18.6 kilowatts. The energy storage battery pack had a capacity of 50 kilowatt-hours. It was connected to the entire building’s public lighting and hot water circulation system. Every household saved three to five hundred dollars a month on electricity. This was the plan I personally designed two years ago. Material costs, installation fees, grid connection fees—it cost forty-three thousand dollars in total. The company subsidized twenty thousand, and I paid the remaining twenty-three thousand myself. Because this was an extension project for my graduation thesis. Demonstration Project of Distributed Photovoltaic Retrofit in Old Residential Communities. I needed real operational data to complete my follow-up paper. When I initially went to talk to property management, Manager Liu readily agreed the moment he heard they didn’t have to pay anything. My only condition was— Reserve an installation spot on the roof for my data collection terminal. The agreement was signed, the system was installed, and the entire building’s public electricity bill dropped by sixty percent. But from beginning to end, property management never mentioned to the residents who installed this system. The owners only knew that “the community upgraded to solar energy.” They didn’t know I provided the money, drew the blueprints, and supervised the construction. I closed my laptop. I hadn’t planned on telling anyone about this. Research is research, neighbors are neighbors. I’m not the kind of person who exchanges favors for gratitude. But tonight, looking at those comments in the group chat, I suddenly felt— I might have been too polite to this building. 03 Martha Money had tasted sweetness. The vocal support from the homeowners’ group made her even more self-righteous. Three days after I left the group, she did something. Something that completely crossed my bottom line. That day after work, I went home as usual. When I got to the seventh floor, I found a piece of paper taped to my door. A sheet of A4 paper, handwritten with a thick black marker. It had a few large words: “PLEASE BE CIVILIZED WHEN KEEPING PETS!!!” Three exclamation marks, each one pressed so hard it indented the paper. The paper was taped right in the middle of my security door with clear tape. When I peeled it off, it took a piece of paint with it. I crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it in the trash can. As I walked in, I smelled a pungent odor. I looked down. A layer of white powder was sprinkled on the doormat. I crouched down and sniffed it. Mothballs. Crushed mothball powder. Cats are allergic to camphor. Inhaling too much can cause poisoning. I rushed into the apartment. Pudding was curled up on the sofa, sleeping. He is a three-year-old British Shorthair with grayish-blue fur, a round face, and round eyes, as fat as a furball. I picked him up and checked him all over. No abnormalities. The camphor powder on the doormat was blocked outside when I closed the door; it hadn’t drifted inside. I went back out, rolled up the doormat, and threw it in the trash. Then I crouched in the hallway, using a wet rag to wipe the floor inch by inch. I wiped for twenty minutes. My knees ached from kneeling. Halfway through wiping, the elevator doors opened. Martha Money came out to take out the trash. She saw me crouching on the floor wiping, a faint smile on the corners of her mouth. “Oh, if it isn’t little Chloe from the seventh floor.” “Wiping the hallway? That’s the way. If you keep a cat, you have to be diligent.” She walked past me carrying the trash bag, her slippers stepping over the floor I had just wiped clean. Leaving two dusty footprints. I didn’t look up. I didn’t look at her. And I didn’t speak. I just wrung out the rag again and wiped away those two footprints. Martha Money came back after throwing away the trash and passed by me again. This time she stopped for two seconds, looking down at me. “Young people should do more work. It’s good for you.” “It’s better than serving a cat like it’s your ancestor all day long.” She finished speaking, walked into the elevator, and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The elevator doors closed. The hallway went quiet. I gripped the rag tightly, my nails digging into my palms. That night, I gave Pudding a physical exam. All his vitals were normal. But I still wasn’t relieved. I spent an hour online looking up the symptoms of camphor poisoning. Vomiting, convulsions, liver damage. In severe cases, death. She was genuinely trying to harm my cat. It wasn’t a report; it wasn’t a complaint. It was deliberate harm. I sat on the sofa holding Pudding. He nuzzled his head into the crook of my arm like usual. Purring loudly. I’ve had him for three years. From when he was a month old and smaller than my palm, until now. I have no friends and no relatives in this city. My parents are back in our hometown; I see them once a year. My relationships with colleagues are superficial; after work, we all go our separate ways. Every day when I return to this 650-square-foot apartment, only Pudding is at the door waiting for me. He doesn’t mind that I don’t talk much, doesn’t mind that I’m boring. If I work overtime until midnight, he just lies quietly in the entryway. Only lifting his head when he hears the key turning, slowly walking over to rub against my ankles. He is my family. Martha Money doesn’t know this. And she doesn’t care. In her eyes, I am just a young tenant who is easy to bully. I don’t argue, I don’t cause trouble, I just take it. She was wrong. I don’t just take it. I just don’t want to waste time on people who aren’t worth it. But she touched Pudding. That changes things. The next day, I did three things. First: I installed a twenty-dollar security camera at my door. The recording angle covered the entire hallway. Second: I put weather stripping around my doorframe to prevent powder from drifting in. Third: I opened my phone and ordered a new smart lock online. Fingerprint and passcode dual lock. The installation technician asked what to do with the old lock. I said throw it away. Pudding lay on the shoe cabinet, watching me change the lock. His round eyes unblinking. “Don’t be afraid.” I patted his head. “I’ll protect you.” 04 On the third day after the camera was installed, it caught Martha Money. At 6:12 AM. She walked up from the fifth floor wearing pajamas, carrying a plastic bag. She squatted at my door, took something out of the bag, and sprinkled it on my doormat. The whole process took forty-seven seconds. Captured clearly. I took screenshots and saved the original video. I didn’t make a fuss. That same afternoon, the ninth complaint form arrived. This time, the content made me laugh. “Seventh-floor resident privately installed a camera in the public corridor, invading neighbors’ privacy.” When Little Zhao handed me the form, he looked very troubled. “Ms. Davis, Ms. Money says she’s going to go to the media.” “Let her.” “Huh?” “I installed the camera because someone was placing hazardous substances at my door.” I showed Little Zhao the video on my phone. Just one glance, for two seconds. Little Zhao’s face turned pale. “This… this is too much…” “I’m not pursuing this matter for now.” I took my phone back. “But the camera stays.” “If she feels uncomfortable being filmed, she doesn’t have to come to the seventh floor.” Little Zhao’s legs were shaking when he left. A twenty-three-year-old guy, on the job for less than a year, caught in the middle and taking heat from both sides. I felt a bit sorry for him, but I couldn’t help him. I thought having video evidence would make Martha Money back off. She didn’t. She just changed her approach. On Wednesday night, in the homeowners’ group chat—yes, even though I had left the group, Mrs. Young would forward messages to me—Martha Money posted an even longer message: “Just a heads up to all neighbors, the woman on the seventh floor installed a camera in the hallway! It’s pointed at the elevator and stairwell! Whatever you’re wearing when you go out is being recorded! Those of you with elderly people or children at home, be careful. Who knows what she’s going to do with those recordings. Young people these days are very scheming.” The chat blew up. “What? Installed a camera? That’s too much!” “Who gave her permission? Isn’t property management going to do something?” “Isn’t this an invasion of privacy? We can call the police now.” “I walk past the seventh floor every day, was I recorded?” Seventeen replies, and not a single person asked why she installed it. Not a single person thought— Why would a young woman living alone spend twenty dollars to install a camera at her door? Martha Money added another message in the group: “I heard that last time property management went to talk to her, her attitude was terrible and she slammed the door right in their faces. Our community doesn’t have room for people like this!” Mrs. Young forwarded the screenshot to me and added: “Chloe, maybe you should explain in the group?” Explain what? Explain that she sprinkled mothball powder at my door to poison my cat? What if she denies it? Post the video? And then what? She’ll cry, say she’s old and confused, and ask everyone to judge whether it’s right for a young person to be so hard on a woman in her fifties. I’ve seen this script too many times. In the end, she would be the “overly enthusiastic elderly person.” And I would be the “petty young person.” No explaining. No arguing back. No posting the video. It’s not time yet. “Mrs. Young, thank you. I’m fine.” I replied with that single sentence, then placed my phone face down on the table. Pudding jumped onto the table and rubbed his head against my hand. I stroked his back. One stroke, two strokes. I was calculating a debt in my head. 05 Martha Money’s tenth report finally moved from online to offline. The neighborhood committee organized a “Civilized Building” evaluation symposium. They called it a symposium, but it was really just representatives from each building sitting together to chat. Martha Money appointed herself the “representative” of our building. No one fought her for it. I didn’t plan to go. Manager Liu called and asked me to attend. “Ms. Davis, Ms. Money has raised some concerns about you. It would be better if you came to respond in person.” “If you don’t come, it’ll just be her side of the story.” I went. In the community activity room, there were about twenty plastic chairs arranged around a long table. Director Ma sat at the head, with Manager Liu next to him. When I arrived, Martha Money was already seated, and she brought two people with her—old Mr. Zhou from the third floor and Ms. Zhao from the fourth floor. Her cheering squad. I found a seat in the corner. Director Ma gave a brief opening remark, then asked the building representatives to speak. Martha Money was the first to raise her hand. She cleared her throat and stood up. “Director Ma, I’m reflecting an issue on behalf of all the residents of Building 7.” She pulled a notebook out of her bag, its pages densely covered in writing. “The tenant on the seventh floor—” She glanced at me. “—has a lot of problems.” Then she began reading. Keeping a cat that disturbs the peace. Cluttering the hallway. Late-night noise. Installing a camera that invades privacy. Unauthorized drying on the balcony. Not participating in community activities. Not paying the public maintenance fund. That last one made me pause. I pay it every month. Auto-deduction. Never missed a payment. But I didn’t interrupt her. Martha Money finished reading, closed her notebook, and delivered her concluding remarks: “Director Ma, I’m not targeting anyone, but a resident like this seriously affects our building’s civilized environment. I suggest property management communicate with the landlord and ask her to move out.” Ask me to move out. The room was quiet for a few seconds. Old Mr. Zhou chimed in: “Ms. Money is right. Our building has always been a civilized building. We can’t let one bad apple ruin the whole bunch.” Ms. Zhao nodded: “Exactly, exactly.” Director Ma looked at me. “Chloe, do you have anything to say?” Over twenty pairs of eyes looked at me. Some curious, some sympathetic, some just watching the show. Not a single pair was on my side. I stood up. “First, I am not a tenant. I am the owner. My name is on the property deed.” “Second, my maintenance fund is set to auto-deduct every month. Here are the deduction records.” I held up my phone. Martha Money’s expression changed. “Third, regarding the camera.” I paused for a second. The whole room was waiting. “I installed the camera because someone was placing hazardous substances at my door, endangering my pet’s safety.” “I have video evidence.” Martha Money stood up abruptly. “Nonsense! What evidence do you have!” Her voice was shrill and piercing. I looked at her. “I said someone. I didn’t say who.” “Ms. Money, why are you getting so worked up?” The room went quiet again. Martha Money froze. She realized she had overreacted, her face turning a dark, liver-red color. Old Mr. Zhou quickly tried to smooth things over: “Alright, alright, young people have sharp tongues. Ms. Money, don’t lower yourself to her level.” Director Ma played the peacemaker, saying “Neighbors should be understanding of each other.” The symposium ended without any resolution. But as I walked out of the activity room, I heard what Martha Money said to Ms. Zhao behind my back. She thought I was far away. I wasn’t. I had walked two steps and stopped, standing around the corner. “Don’t worry, I’ve already spoken to Manager Liu.” Martha Money’s voice was low and confident. “When parking spaces are reallocated next month, they’re going to reassign her B12 spot to my son.” “She’s just a young girl who rides an electric scooter. Why does she need a parking spot?” Ms. Zhao laughed: “Ms. Money, you’re amazing.” “Of course.” Martha Money scoffed. “And she threatened me with a video? I’d like to see what’s stronger, her camera or my connections.” I stood around the corner, my back pressed against the wall. My fingers slowly curled into fists, then relaxed. Okay. Very well.

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