Author: Momo Chan

My mom loves asking me to buy things for her. But she has “bad eyesight,” so when she transfers me the money, she always misses a zero. I never really cared and just quietly made up the difference myself every time. Until my sister started acting passive-aggressive in front of me: “Every time Mom buys something, she transfers you the money to buy it for her.” “I’ve never seen you post the actual receipts. Who knows how much you’re pocketing off the top.” My mom just smiled and didn’t explain, seemingly agreeing with my sister. My heart instantly went cold. Over the years, she’s asked me to buy all sorts of things, big and small, and every time, she underpaid me. And she’d always brush it off with: “My eyesight is bad, I hit the wrong button.” Adding it all up, I’ve subsidized her at least thirty to forty thousand dollars, only to be branded a thief. So, when my mom once again transferred me money to book a four-thousand-dollar New Year’s Eve dinner, I accepted the transfer, turned around, and booked a four-hundred-dollar dinner instead. … No one at the dining table touched their silverware, their faces showing various expressions as they looked at the food in front of them. I urged them, “Don’t just sit there, eat up.” My mom’s face was so dark it looked like it was dripping water. She was only holding back her temper because of the other people present. Suppressing her anger, she asked, “Are the rest of the dishes still coming? Go find a waiter and hurry them up.” “That’s everything,” I replied flatly, then urged the relatives again, “Hurry and eat, or the food will get cold.” Smack. My mom slammed her chopsticks down, her chest heaving heavily. “We have a huge table of over a dozen people, and you only ordered these few dishes?” A relative next to her chimed in, “Chloe, is there a mistake? It wasn’t like this in previous years.” In previous years, the table was piled high with king crab, lobster, and endless seafood. This year, there were a total of six dishes, making the table look empty. The only thing even remotely related to seafood was a plate of salt and pepper shrimp. I couldn’t blame them for finding it weird. “No mistake,” I shook my head. My mom’s eyes turned red with anger, and she demanded, “I gave you money to handle the New Year’s Eve dinner, and this is what you feed everyone?” I glanced at the food on the table and sighed. “I had no choice. Funds were limited, so this is all we could get.” My sister, Mia, slammed the table and stood up, pointing at me. “Don’t think I don’t know! Mom sent you four thousand dollars to organize this dinner.” “This whole table put together isn’t even worth five hundred bucks! Did you pocket the rest of the money?” “I know you always use the excuse of buying things for Mom so she transfers you money, just so you can skim off the top. But you’ve gone too far this time!” Hearing my sister’s words, the relatives’ looks toward me instantly changed. My mom added from the side, “Chloe, I usually don’t say much when you do this.” “But right now, the whole family is gathered for New Year’s Eve dinner. Is it appropriate for you to pull a stunt like this?” My uncle’s son started whining, “Dad, I want king crab! Didn’t you say there’d be king crab today?” My aunt scolded me, “Chloe, I always thought you were a good kid. How could you do something like this?” The others present also chimed in, criticizing me. My mom spoke up right on cue, “Alright, go find a waiter and add more dishes right now. We’ll let this slide for today.” The relatives also tried to smooth things over, telling me to quickly go find a waiter and order more food according to the usual standard. But I remained unmoved and said coldly, “I can’t.” “Why can’t you?” My mom couldn’t help but raise her voice. I turned to look at her. “Mom, did you forget?” “You only transferred me four hundred dollars. Ordering these dishes already spent all the money.” “I even put in a few bucks of my own.” A hint of panic flashed across my mom’s face. She clearly hadn’t expected me to just say it out loud. But she quickly covered it up. My mom fake-coughed a few times, constantly gesturing with her eyes. “What nonsense are you spouting? I clearly sent you four thousand.” My sister mocked me even more, “Still trying to deny it? I heard Mom on the phone with you. She said she transferred four thousand!” “Four thousand turning into four hundred. Even if you wanted to skim, you shouldn’t be so greedy.” With my sister as a witness, the relatives looked at me with even more disdain. My uncle said angrily, “Chloe, profiting off your own mother—do you have a conscience?” Seeing that they didn’t believe me, I had no choice but to pull up the transfer record from my mom. “Look, my mom only sent me four hundred dollars at the time.” My mom did call and say she was sending four thousand for the dinner. But when the money came through, it was only four hundred. This was her usual trick. If I didn’t bring it up, she’d act like she didn’t know. If I did bring it up, she’d use the excuse of bad eyesight and missing a digit. Then she’d criticize me: “So I sent you a little less, do you have to come specifically to remind me? I raised you, and you’re not even willing to spend a little money on me?” “You’re really nothing like your sister. What an ungrateful wretch!” My aunt, sitting next to me, took a look and looked up. “Sis, you really only sent four hundred.” My mom couldn’t hold her face anymore. She gave a dry laugh. “I’m getting older and my eyesight is bad. I probably missed a zero by accident.” With that, she glared at me again. “If I sent the wrong amount, why didn’t you say something earlier?” Reluctantly, she sent me the money again, her tone a bit stiff: “Alright, the money is sent. Go order according to the previous standard. Don’t delay everyone’s dinner.” I was just about to speak when Mia beat me to it. “Mom, why are you giving her money?” She gave me a cold smile, then raised her voice. “Over the years, you’ve probably made tens of thousands off Mom!” “It’s just one time she accidentally underpaid you. Can’t you make up the difference yourself?” “Because you didn’t get to pocket the change this time, you deliberately made Mom lose face in front of the relatives, didn’t you?” My mom gave her a reproachful look. “You child, how can you talk nonsense in front of the relatives.” She seemed to be scolding her, but in reality, she was tacitly agreeing with Mia’s accusation that I was skimming off the top. My hand paused, then I clicked ‘Return’ and said flatly, “In that case, I’m returning the money. You can order the food yourself, so you won’t say I’m skimming again.” My mom’s expression froze. She knew clearly that according to the previous standard, a table would cost at least a thousand bucks. My mom is very competitive in front of relatives. Her marriage wasn’t happy, so she planned to make up for it elsewhere. Every year, she used the excuse of hosting the New Year’s Eve dinner to prove to the relatives that she was doing well. Before, I silently subsidized it to give my mom face in front of the relatives, but now I didn’t want to. Mia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Why are you acting all high and mighty now?” “Weren’t you going to return the money? Don’t just return this one time! If you’re going to return it, return all the money you’ve made off Mom!” “Since all the relatives are here today, let’s settle the accounts clearly and see exactly how much you skimmed!” Hearing this, my mom’s face changed. She pulled Mia’s hand. “What accounts are we settling on New Year’s? If there’s an issue, we’ll talk about it when we get back.” “No! I want to talk about it now!” Mia forcefully shook off my mom’s hand. With red eyes, she said sharply, “Don’t think I don’t know. You just use the excuse of having my sister buy things for you so you can legitimately send her money and subsidize her!” “We’re both your children, why are you so biased?” “Today we must settle this clearly in front of the relatives. You must transfer me every penny you’ve subsidized her over the years, without missing a cent!” Seeing my sister’s resentful expression, I understood. She wasn’t making this scene to stick up for Mom. It was just that she felt Mom was secretly subsidizing me, and she felt it was unfair. So she wanted to cause a big scene to get her share of “compensation.” My uncle spoke up for Mia. “Sis, didn’t you always claim to treat both daughters equally? How can you be biased towards Chloe?” “Mia, Uncle supports you. You have to bravely fight for your rights!” The other relatives also sided with Mia. It wasn’t that they genuinely wanted to help Mia; they were just taking the opportunity to watch our family drama. My mom’s face gradually grew paler. She forced a smile: “You adults shouldn’t follow a child in making a fuss. Who among you doesn’t know I treat both daughters the same.” “I’ll go find a waiter to order…” Saying that, she got up to leave. Mia blocked her path with outstretched arms. “Mom, are you feeling guilty and trying to run away?” My mom gave a forced laugh. “My phone broke a few days ago, and I just got a new one. All the chat history is gone. Even if I wanted to check the accounts, there’s no way.” “How about this, I’ll send you two thousand…” My sister interrupted her with a cold smile: “You think two thousand is enough to brush me off? The money you’ve subsidized Chloe over the years is definitely more than two thousand!” “Besides, what I care about isn’t the money, it’s fairness!” Her words rang loud and clear, and my aunt led the applause. “Well done, Mia.” “If you’ve suffered a grievance, speak up. We’ll all back you up.” My aunt looked excited and raised her phone, pointing it at us. She was a minor influencer with a few tens of thousands of followers on a short-video app. I instantly understood what she was trying to do. Sure enough, using my burner account, I checked my aunt’s profile and saw she was live streaming. However, there were only a handful of people watching. Dissatisfied with the viewer count, my aunt added a few more provocative comments, hyping up the relatives. Seeing the relatives on her side, Mia puffed out her chest, feeling even more confident. She said loudly, “You always say you treat us both equally, but behind my back, you favor Chloe. Did you think I couldn’t feel it?” “Today, I must demand fairness for myself!” My mom looked at me with pleading eyes, wanting me to step in and say something. I sighed inwardly. Although I was disheartened by my mom’s actions, this was ultimately our family business. It was one thing to talk about it in front of relatives, but now that my aunt had started a livestream, the nature of it changed. Because of my aunt’s instigation and the relatives’ agreement, more people were pouring into the livestream to watch the drama. I didn’t want our family business to be used as my aunt’s tool to gain traffic, nor did I want a bunch of ignorant strangers discussing it. So I interrupted Mia. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it when we go back. Let’s just eat properly for now.” I gave her a look, but Mia obviously didn’t get it. She scoffed. “What right does a beneficiary like you have to speak here?” “I’m the one who’s being treated unfairly. Is it wrong for me to demand an explanation now?” “If we go back, you and Mom definitely won’t admit to the favoritism, so we must clear it up now!” Mia was relentless, and my mom’s face grew uglier by the second. Suddenly, whatever she thought of, her expression calmed down. She looked up at me. “Chloe, the fact that I secretly subsidized you under the guise of buying things was indeed unfair to Mia.” I froze. Just as I was about to ask her when she had ever subsidized me, I heard my mom continue: “The chat history is gone, and besides, it’s hard to calculate all the scattered bills over so many years.” “But I estimate it adds up to around twenty thousand.” “How about this, you give your sister ten thousand, and we’ll let this matter rest.” After finishing, she ignored my reaction and turned to ask Mia for her opinion. Mia wrestled with it for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine, whatever.” So the reason she didn’t agree to the two thousand compensation my mom offered earlier was because she thought it was too little. My mom looked at me again, signaling me to hurry up and send the money. To save her own reputation, she was forcing me to admit to something that never happened, and she wanted me to give Mia money. I was absolutely infuriated and laughed. Mia rolled her eyes at me and urged, “What are you staring at? Hurry up and send me the money.” I stared intently into my mom’s eyes. “You’re saying that over the years, using the excuse of buying things for you, I’ve pocketed over twenty thousand. Then show me the proof.” My mom looked away. “I already told you the chat history is gone. Where am I supposed to get proof?” Then she whispered in my ear, “Just send the money to Mia first. Making a huge scene during the New Year will just make us a laughingstock to the relatives.” “When we get home, I’ll explain it clearly to Mia and have her give the money back.” She thought that just like when she sent the wrong amount before, a casual “I hit the wrong button” would make me compromise. But this time I was unusually firm. I wasn’t going to accept this just because of a few words from my mom. Otherwise, both the relatives and the netizens watching the stream would believe I had been skimming money off my mom all these years. When that time comes, no matter how I explained, they wouldn’t believe it, and I’d lose ten thousand dollars for nothing. I raised an eyebrow. “Without proof, on what grounds are you saying I skimmed money?” At first, the netizens didn’t understand what was happening, but my aunt typed out an explanation in the chat. Hearing the whole story, the netizens all thought I had skimmed money using the excuse of buying things for my mom. I lowered my eyes and saw that the livestream chat was now full of people cursing me. Mia slammed the table and said shrilly, “Mom already admitted it, and you’re still stubbornly denying it!” “You just see that Mom said the chat history is gone, so you’re refusing to admit it, right?” The other relatives also chimed in, urging me to fork over the money. “Chloe, you guys are blood sisters after all. Don’t make things too ugly over a little money.” I said coldly, “If there isn’t any, there isn’t any. I will not send her money.” My sister’s eyes instantly reddened. The next second, a slap landed on my face. My mom slapped my cheek so hard it went numb. My mom pointed at me, filled with righteous indignation. “You are truly too selfish! Your sister didn’t even haggle over the exact amount, and was willing to just take ten thousand and let this go.” “But you value money more than family ties!” My heart completely turned cold. “Fine, didn’t Mia say I used buying things for you as an excuse to skim money?” “Then let’s calculate it clearly. If I really did profit, I will return every single cent.” Mia scoffed disdainfully. “Sounds nice, but the chat history is gone. Where are you going to check the accounts?” I waved my phone. “It’s fine. Mom’s records are gone, but I still have mine.” Hearing this, my mom’s face turned a bit pale. But before I could even open the chat screen with her, my mom suddenly snatched my phone while my guard was down and smashed it hard on the floor. “I didn’t want to show the transfer records because I didn’t want to see you sisters fighting endlessly over a little money.” “I didn’t expect you to completely fail to realize my good intentions.” “You clearly got more benefits than your sister, yet you stubbornly refuse to take out a little money to share with her. You really disappoint me!” Looking at her expression and tone, if I hadn’t known the truth, I really would have been fooled by her. I picked up my phone. The screen was shattered, and it wouldn’t turn on at all. My mom let out a barely noticeable sigh of relief. She seemed to think that with my phone broken, there was no way to check the accounts. Unfazed, I pulled out a stack of paper from my bag. Seeing the contents, my mom’s face changed drastically. She lunged forward to snatch the papers away. But this time I was prepared and dodged to the side. My mom’s face was dark, and she gritted her teeth. “Give that to me!” Seeing the commotion, the relatives were curious about what was on the paper that made my mom react so strongly. Even my sister asked in confusion, “Mom, is there something on those papers?” My mom realized she was overreacting and gave a few dry laughs. “It’s nothing, she’s just holding a few pieces of paper and trying to be mysterious.” My sister furrowed her brows. “Didn’t she just say she has the bills there? Then why did you smash her phone?” “You don’t dare let us see the bills because there’s something fishy about them, right? The amount you subsidized her is definitely more than twenty thousand!” My mom’s refusal to let others see the bills caused suspicion. But they all thought it was because the money she subsidized me was more than the twenty thousand she claimed. That’s why she didn’t dare let anyone see the bills. My aunt was fanning the flames, loving the drama, and casually driving traffic to her livestream: “Yeah, first you said your phone chat history was gone and you couldn’t produce the bills.” “Then Chloe said she had the bills, and you smashed her phone. Isn’t it obvious you don’t dare let us see the bills?” Hearing this, my sister said angrily, “You really are biased towards my sister!” “You tried so hard to keep me from seeing the bills, just because you were afraid I’d ask for more money, right?” My mom opened her mouth, completely unsure of what to say. She indeed didn’t dare let anyone see the bills. But not because of how much she had secretly subsidized me over the years, but because every time she transferred money, it was short one digit. She cared about her face in front of the relatives. She always said she had money on hand and didn’t need her children to spend money on her, and instead subsidized us from time to time. I don’t know if she secretly subsidized my sister in private, but I hadn’t received any for all these years. Not only had I not received any, I had actually paid out twenty to thirty thousand dollars out of pocket. And as a result, I was accused by her of using this to skim money. If they saw the transfer records now, her lies in front of the relatives all these years would be exposed. She tried to explain, “I didn’t let you see the bills because I didn’t want to see you sisters calculating back and forth over a little money, and ending up hurting your relationship.” My sister sneered. “Then when you secretly subsidized my sister, why didn’t you think it would hurt our relationship?” “You’re just making excuses for your favoritism!” I waved the papers in my hand. “It’s fine, even though the phone is broken and we can’t look at the bills, I’ve already printed out the bills from all these years in advance.” “Didn’t you say I used buying things for Mom to skim money? Let’s calculate exactly how much I skimmed now.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394733”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mom loves running all sorts of tests on me, her adult daughter. She knows I have insomnia, so she’ll bomb my phone in the middle of the night, demanding large sums of money. After scaring me half to death and I transfer the money, she’ll berate me for being stupid, saying it’s to teach me a lesson so I won’t just send money to anyone. She’ll sneak my phone out of my pocket while we’re on a family walk, making sure the entire neighborhood can hear her scolding me for being brainless. I was seriously suffocating. But my mom still wouldn’t let me go. She would tell anyone who would listen in the neighborhood, “If she doesn’t get married, I can’t even hold my head up.” I snapped. The next time she repeated this to an acquaintance in our complex, I pushed her head down like playing Whac-A-Mole and loudly announced to the person, “My mom can’t hold her head up! Because I’m not married, she’s too ashamed to show her face!” Dearest Mother, now it’s my turn to run a compliance test on you. 1 At 3 AM, I had just fallen asleep. The frantic ringing of my phone suddenly pierced the room, sounding like the Grim Reaper’s bell coming to claim my soul. It scared me so much my eyes flew open, a cold sweat breaking out on my back. Seeing it was my own phone ringing, I swallowed hard and reached for it on the nightstand with a trembling hand. The caller ID showed “Mom.” My heart lurched, and I quickly answered. “Hello?” As soon as the call connected, a barrage of roaring erupted from the speaker. “Why did it take you so long to answer? Are you trying to kill your mother!” “Cut the crap and transfer me a thousand dollars, now!” My heart skipped a beat, thinking something had happened back home. I quickly asked, “What happened? Are Dad and Mia okay?” Before I could finish, my mom started screaming like a maniac. “Transfer the money! Immediately! Right now!” “Are you trying to drive us to death? You unfilial daughter!” “You ungrateful wretch! I raised you all these years for nothing, aahhhhh—” Her shrill voice pierced my heart like a needle. With shaking hands, I transferred the thousand dollars to her. “Mom, don’t panic, the money is sent.” Upon receiving the money, my mom instantly regained her composure. She let out a scoff and began to lecture me triumphantly. “How are you still so stupid? I tell you to transfer money and you just do it? Your uncle’s dog is more obedient than you.” “Experience is the best teacher. Let this be a lesson to you, otherwise next time your stupid face will be on some true crime show.” “I’ll hold onto this money for you for now. Just consider it your contribution to household expenses.” The phone was still pressed against my ear. My brain, originally muddled from insomnia, was now throbbing with pain, and my stiff limbs felt freezing cold. My mom knew perfectly well that I’ve been suffering from insomnia recently, and that I have a crucial meeting with a major client tomorrow. Before hanging up, I could even hear my mom bragging to my dad, who was scrolling through TikTok. “I told you she’d transfer the money! She’s still so stupid!” “So what if she moved out? So what if she’s an executive? If I don’t teach her, she’ll still get scammed!” I heard my dad let out a snort of amusement, roll over, and continue playing on his phone. “Mom…” My throat was incredibly dry; I could only manage to force out one pale, powerless syllable. My mom panicked for a second, cursed at me, and then smack, hung up the phone. “You damn brat, hang up already! Are you paying the phone bill? You have too much money to burn!” Beep— 2 I stood frozen by the bed like a block of wood, holding my phone. I hadn’t even turned on the light. The darkness was like a whirlpool, threatening to swallow me whole. I can’t even remember how many times she’s pulled this kind of humiliating “test,” always under the guise of “doing it for my own good.” It was somewhat bearable before I became an adult and started working; she’d just call me stupid and say I couldn’t compare to my younger sister. But after I landed a good job and moved out, it was like she hit menopause. She started running all sorts of tests on me out of nowhere, using the beautiful excuse that she was afraid I’d get scammed out in the real world. But I am a fully functional, sound-minded adult. After this stunt from my mom, sleep was completely out of the question. I numbly moved my limbs and grabbed a bottle of ice water from the fridge. I twisted off the cap and took a gulp, temporarily freezing my throbbing head. I exhausted covered my face with my hands, feeling the soreness in my eyes and the dampness on my palms. When did my mom start escalating this behavior? It was last month, when I told the family I got promoted. I took them out to dinner and bought them gifts. During the meal, my dad happily praised me for growing up and making something of myself, saying I’d bring him pride during the holidays. My high school sister kept looking at me with adoring eyes, dropping hints that she wanted me to buy her an iPhone. My mom, however, sat there with a stinking face, radiating cold energy. When I paid the bill, she kept staring at my phone, as if it rightfully belonged to her. After dinner, my mom suggested our family of four take a walk in our apartment complex. My dad and sister didn’t object, and I actually felt pleasantly surprised. After all, they usually said my sister was still young and needed exercise, while I, burdened with studies, should stay in my room and study hard. I was overwhelmed by this unexpected favor, feeling incredibly joyful—so joyful I forgot to ask why my sister, who was currently burdened with studies, wasn’t staying in her room to study hard. Along the way, my dad’s face was wrinkled into a smile like a blooming flower, constantly bragging to passing acquaintances about how sensible and filial I was, and how I could finally help the family out. My mom squeezed me in the middle like the filling of an Oreo, staring at me like a hawk, her body pressed tightly against mine. To be honest, her glare gave me the creeps, making me feel uncomfortable all over. Right after my dad bragged to another neighbor about my success, my mom suddenly fired a question at me. “Where is your phone?” I met her gaze, which was intense and resolute, and patted my pockets, completely confused. “Isn’t it right here in my pocket?” I grabbed empty air. My heart suddenly skipped a beat. My phone contained the presentation for tomorrow’s report. I had just been promoted; I couldn’t afford any mistakes at this crucial juncture. I frantically searched my pockets inside and out, breaking out in a cold sweat, but still couldn’t find it. My dad’s previously smug expression darkened instantly, as if the person who was just praising my success never existed. My mom wore a cold smirk, watching me with disdain as I started searching the bushes. “What’s wrong with Chloe?” the neighbor, seeing my anxious face, asked kindly. “I lost my phone. I had it when we entered the complex,” I replied, my hands trembling and covered in dirt, a hint of a sob escaping my voice. Almost a split second before the neighbor could offer help, my mom launched into a barrage of sarcastic mockery. “How can you be so useless? You just excel at failing! Are you trying to anger me to death?!” “Look at you, just got promoted and you lost your phone. It has company documents on it, right? How are you going to face the bosses who trusted you!” “Such a good company, such good bosses, all gone because of your stupidity, your carelessness! Tell me, what can you actually accomplish?” “Your dad and I don’t expect you to strike it rich and buy us cars and mansions, but could you please just give us some peace of mind and be a little more reliable?” Cold sweat ran into my eyes, stinging them. My heart was in a panic. My mom’s voice flooded my ears like a torrent, turning my brain into mush. Her shrill voice attracted nearby neighbors walking around. They watched the hysterical mother, the despairing older sister, the indifferent father, and the unconcerned younger sister. People’s gazes scrutinized me like spotlights, their faces bearing intrigued expressions. I felt like I was in the deep sea, about to be crushed and suffocated. The initially kind neighbor looked horrified, being watched like a monkey in a circus. He wanted to leave but felt too embarrassed to just walk away. He carefully suggested, “Why don’t we find a security guard? Didn’t you say you were just holding it? It must have dropped somewhere in the complex.” My brain cleared, and reason returned. I stood up, my eyes determined, and spat out two words, “Call 911.” I looked around, a fighting spirit rising within me, my voice firm and resolute. “My phone was perfectly fine in my pocket. It must have been stolen by an experienced pickpocket without me noticing.” “If I let this thief go and act like nothing happened, tomorrow they’ll escalate and steal from other people with impunity.” Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, and the kind neighbor understandingly began dialing the police. And then, my mom lost her mind. “Why call the police? You’re going to call the police over such a trivial matter? Can’t you solve your own problems?” “Calling the police in the middle of the night, do you think they’ll just agree? You think they only serve you?” I looked at my mom in confusion, unable to fathom any reason why she would forbid me, the victim, from calling the police. Questions also arose from the crowd. “Ma’am, if there’s a thief in the complex, it’s better to let the police investigate. It gives people peace of mind.” “The police are here to serve the people! Maybe catching a thief will even get them a promotion or a raise!” “Chloe’s mom, look how pale Chloe is. There must be important stuff on that phone. The priority should be getting the police to find it immediately. Why are you stopping her?” Even with people pointing fingers at her, my mom gritted her teeth and refused to relent. I frowned, acutely sensing that something was wrong, and spoke decisively to the kind neighbor. “Sir, call the police. I’ll take responsibility if anything happens.” The neighbor nodded and pressed the call button. Right at that moment, my mom started screaming and yelling like a lunatic, throwing something onto the ground as if venting her anger. “Don’t call the police! Don’t call! Your phone is right here!” We looked closely and discovered that what she threw was actually a phone. My eyes almost popped out of my head. Wasn’t this cracked phone mine?! The kind neighbor’s jaw dropped in shock, and he hastily ended the call. I picked up the phone like a slow-moving robot, my eyes full of disbelief as I looked at my mom. Before I could even ask, she pointed at me and scolded me indiscriminately. “I was just worried that you lack situational awareness when you’re out. I stole your phone to train you, is it really necessary to make such a big fuss?” “And you want to call the police? Fine, let the police arrest your mother and throw her in jail! I’ll just pretend I never gave birth to you!” I stood frozen in place, doubting if my ears were working properly, actually hearing such absurd words. The surrounding people, however, enjoyed the spectacle fully, whispering and chuckling amongst themselves. “So she’s the thief! She actually stole her own daughter’s phone.” “Her daughter was about to cry from anxiety. I bet if she hadn’t mentioned calling the police, she wouldn’t have brought the phone out.” “She’s really losing her mind, tormenting her own daughter like this!” “This is truly a case of a thief crying ‘stop thief,’ hard to guard against thieves in your own home.” Hearing these sarcastic remarks, my mom’s face turned shades of green and purple from anger. She cursed at the crowd, “What are you looking at? I’m disciplining my own daughter, mind your own business.” “She’s my daughter, I’m doing this all for her own good.” “Enough!” A violent roar erupted in the darkness, stopping my mom. My dad appeared from nowhere, his face so dark it blended into the night, glaring fiercely at my mom. “Haven’t you embarrassed us enough? Get home, now!” His forehead was creased so deeply it could crush a fly. He took the lead, heading towards home, not caring if his wife and daughters were following. My mom glared at me, then sheepishly trailed behind my dad’s retreating figure. Then came my sister. She covered her face and jogged towards our parents with quick, small steps, muttering “So embarrassing” under her breath. With the spectacle over, the crowd gradually dispersed. Leaving me standing there alone, gripping the cracked phone, feeling a bone-chilling cold, as if I would plunge into the darkness behind me the next second. 3 My thoughts drifted back to my rented apartment. I was currently enveloped in a similar darkness, agonizing over what my mom had done to me. Sleep was impossible, so I turned on the news to have some semblance of human presence around me. “Recently, a 28-year-old female teacher, pressured into marriage, tragically fell from a building on her wedding day, fading away in the prime of her life.” The news video reported on a female teacher who, after suffering 11 years of oppressive pressure to marry from her closest relatives, ultimately plummeted to her death from her bridal suite on her wedding day, using her life to pursue freedom beneath the blue sky. I stared at the anchor’s moving lips, my head spinning, feeling like I had plunged into an endless nightmare. Even in civilized society, incidents of people “eating” others still occurred! In that moment, I felt a profound empathy for this woman I had never met, who used her life to resist oppression. The torment my mom inflicted on me over these many days, my dad and sister’s apathetic disregard and exploitation of my pain—they were fundamentally no different from the actions of the female teacher’s family. Relatives, assuming a position of superiority and using “gratitude” to oppress us, were simply torturing a soul. The comments below, sharing various experiences, also spoke of the injustices faced by women. “My parents always lived in a fantasy where they had ‘the perfect son from another family’, and their ultimate mission was to marry me off.” “The year my parents drove me to depression, they were glowing with vitality. Later, I escaped that place called ‘home,’ and my depression vanished.” “My mom always says she can’t hold her head up if I don’t get married. I recommended she get a plaster cast for her neck, then she’d be able to hold it up.” “Attention all women: your body, your uterus, your soul, they all belong only to you. Anyone who tries to make decisions for these things is full of bullshit!” Hot tears fell from my eyes, and a fire ignited deep within my heart. Even if I only have a frail body and no one standing behind me, I still have to swing a massive sledgehammer and smash all the shackles that bind me to pieces. My alarm rang at that moment, like the bugle call of resistance. Morning light spilled through the window; the day had dawned. 4 Since then, I made up my mind not to give my mom any opportunity to torment me. I put her on “Do Not Disturb” on WeChat and ignored her messages. I didn’t answer her calls or just hung up. If asked, I’d say I was busy. I had never felt the world to be so peaceful. Until I received a call from my sister. She cried, saying Dad and Mom were fighting, begging her sister to come home and check on her. My damn soft heart gave in. At the time, I thought my sister was still young, her worldview hadn’t fully formed, and she shouldn’t have to bear the consequences of our parents’ mistakes. I rushed home in a taxi, burning with anxiety. When I walked in, the three of them were sitting on different sides of the room, looking exactly like a tribunal ready to judge me. My sister just gave me a fleeting glance, then held her hand out to my mom. “She’s here. You said if I got her to come, you’d give me ten bucks.” My mom gave her the money. After getting the cash, she headed straight to her room and slammed the door shut. That sound hit me right in the heart, shattering the image of the ignorant, innocent younger sister into pieces. “Chloe is back! Why are you standing there? Come over and sit!” My dad waved at me, wearing a smile like the Maitreya Buddha. I took a deep breath, warning myself: If it’s a blessing, it’s not a curse; if it’s a curse, it can’t be avoided. I sat down a bit further away from them, waiting to see what kind of trick they were playing. Since I walked in, my mom’s gaze had been scanning my face like an X-ray, investigating how I had been doing lately. Seeing the radiant glow on my face, she couldn’t help but make sarcastic remarks. “Well, look who it is! You don’t even answer your phone, do you still remember us old folks?” I poured myself some water and said lightly, “Been busy lately.” My mom wanted to say more but shut up after my dad glared at her. My dad cheerfully asked about my recent situation, and I responded with mild indifference. After asking about my food, clothing, housing, and transportation, my dad shifted the conversation and finally revealed the purpose of this setup. “You’re not getting any younger, isn’t it time to consider marriage?” “Do you remember Uncle Zhao? His son has good prospects, he’s a civil servant too.” I took a sip of water and said coldly, “I remember he’s been married once before.” My dad glanced at my mom, and my mom understood and started persuading me. “Older men know how to treat a woman better! Your Uncle Zhao’s family is close to ours; marrying his son would make our families even closer!” “Besides, your Uncle Zhao said the bride price for our family would be at least twenty thousand dollars. Don’t you want to show some filial piety and get your mom a new gold necklace or jade bracelet?” “Your sister’s grades are just average, I don’t think she’ll get into a good college. As her older sister, don’t you want to use this twenty thousand to pave a backup plan for her?” I almost laughed out loud. That Uncle Zhao, whose eyes are practically on top of his head, always coming to our house and ordering people around, and his greasy son who got divorced because of domestic violence—whoever wants to marry him can go right ahead! I pondered for a moment, pretending to agree with my mom. “I think you’re right!” My parents’ faces instantly lit up with joy, craning their necks for my next words. “Why don’t we let Mia marry Uncle Zhao’s son? That way, she’ll have a backup plan when she fails her exams.” “Marrying him will bring our families closer together; wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds?” I smiled amidst my parents’ shock, revealing my sharp canine teeth. My dad was the first to react, furiously slamming his hand on the table. “This is absolutely ridiculous!” “Your sister is still so young, how could she marry a divorced man in his thirties!” My sister’s scream also came from her room. “I don’t want to marry a divorced old man! If you make me marry him, I’d rather jump out the window right now!” My mom glared at me through gritted teeth, like a fierce mother wolf protecting her cub. “How can you be so vicious? You actually want your sister to marry a man so much older than her! Isn’t that pushing her into a pit of fire?!” I blinked innocently. “Didn’t you say it yourself, Mom? Older men know how to treat a woman better.” “Besides, that man is also ten years older than me. If I marry him, wouldn’t that be jumping into a pit of fire too?” “Or is it that you guys just have your eyes on the bride price they offered and want to sell your daughter? If that’s really the case, aren’t you afraid of drowning in other people’s spit? Where will you hide your faces in the future?!” My parents choked, opening their mouths but not knowing what to say. Seeing they had nothing to say, I slowly scrolled on my phone. After all, I wasn’t the one in a rush. From the corner of my eye, I saw my dad constantly kicking my mom under the table. I knew then that his “loving father” act was just for show. My mom couldn’t take the kicking anymore. She suddenly stood up, pointed at me, and spoke without thinking. “Let me tell you, we’ve eaten more salt than you’ve eaten rice! If you don’t listen to us, you’ll regret it one day, and don’t come crying to us then.” “You’re already so old and still not married, I can’t even hold my head up in the neighborhood.” “Tell me, if you don’t get married, people will gossip. You don’t even live here anymore, aren’t you destroying the harmony of our family of three?” Even knowing my mom’s words were vicious, my heart still felt like it had a gaping hole, constantly leaking air. A family of three. My dad, my mom, my sister. Not including me. I curled my lips in a mocking smile, deciding to fight magic with magic. I sneered, “Mom, if we’re talking about family, you’re the one with a different last name, aren’t you?”

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My division commander’s son, Arthur Sterling, told me that if I wanted to marry him, I had to become a regimental commander first. “Eventually, this division will be handed over to us.” So, I worked my life away for eight years. Reconnaissance company, artillery regiment, operations and training section—wherever it was toughest, I went. I earned several third-class merit citations and shed layers of skin from the sun. This spring, I thought my promotion to regimental commander was a sure thing. But suddenly, the division dispatched me to the remote Northern Wasteland for construction work. Returning a year later, I saw Lily Vance from the propaganda section leading the regiment in training. I went straight to the division commander’s office. In the hallway, two staff officers were smoking. “Commander Vance is so lucky. Her father-in-law promoted her single-handedly.” “It’s a pity for Chloe Miller. She must have frozen her butt off in the Northern Wasteland, right?” “If you ask me, the division commander should have just told her directly that Lily Vance and his son filed their marriage report ages ago. Would have saved so much trouble.” Tossing their cigarette butts, the two walked away. I stood in the empty hallway, suddenly recalling every exhausting night of those eight years. It turned out that in the eyes of others, I was just a joke. So, I went downstairs and called home: “Dad, I’m coming home tomorrow.” 1 When I pushed open the door to the division commander’s office, I saw Lily Vance sitting on Arthur Sterling’s lap. They were pressed against the desk, Arthur’s hands wrapped around her waist. Hearing the door, Arthur sprang up, and Lily hurriedly wiped the corner of her mouth. The office was silent for a few seconds. “Chloe…” Arthur stood up, the collar of his uniform slightly wrinkled. “Don’t misunderstand. Lily accidentally slipped, and I was just catching her.” Lily adjusted her brand-new field-grade officer uniform and cleared her throat: “Major Miller, why didn’t you knock before coming in?” I slammed that crumpled appointment notice onto the desk. “When did Lily Vance become a regimental commander?” Lily let out a short laugh: “It was a collective decision by the division’s party committee. Do you have an objection?” Arthur pressed his hand on the paper, not meeting my eyes: “Lily graduated with a bachelor’s degree from the military academy, has excellent political standing, and is a young cadre prioritized for development by the organization.” “Chloe, the organization sees all your contributions, but you need to consider the big picture.” I smiled. The big picture? Who ever considered me? “Comprehensive quality? She can’t even mark a tactical map properly. Where is the quality?” “Chloe Miller!” Arthur’s voice suddenly rose, slamming a folder heavily onto the desk. “You’ve been in the military for eight years. Don’t you know that obeying orders is your bounden duty?” “Don’t bring your personal emotions into work!” The way he looked at me was like looking at a troublemaking soldier. Eight years of my life, in his eyes, had become “personal emotions.” I looked into his eyes: “Then what do my past eight years count as?” He looked away, his tone softening a bit, like coaxing an ignorant child: “I know it’s been hard for you. But the military needs to develop.” Lily walked up to me, her epaulets almost brushing against my chest: “I spent five years in the headquarters writing materials. What about you? You spent a year digging drainage ditches in the Northern Wasteland. Do you even have the right to talk about tactics?” The phone rang. It was Arthur’s mother. “Mom?” “Get Chloe Miller to get her ass over here immediately! We’re hosting a dinner tonight, and she must give an explanation! A woman messing around for eight years and still not becoming a regimental commander, isn’t it embarrassing!” Arthur’s face changed. He hung up the phone, looking at me with a bit of annoyance, but quickly put on his gentle facade again: “Stop making a fuss.” He walked over, trying to take my hand: “You know how my mom is, don’t take it to heart.” “I’ll go with you tonight, we’ll explain everything properly.” Just as Arthur finished speaking, there was a knock on the office door. It was a communications orderly from division headquarters, holding a document: “Officer Sterling, Commander Vance, the political commissar requests your presence in the conference room immediately for an emergency meeting regarding next week’s on-site demonstration.” Lily immediately stood up straight, the slight flippancy on her face vanishing instantly, replaced by the demeanor of a serious military officer: “Understood. We’ll be right there.” She turned to Arthur, her tone as natural as if discussing official business: “Arthur, shall we head over first? Let’s not keep the commissar waiting.” Arthur nodded and picked up his notebook from the desk. Right before walking out, he paused, didn’t turn back, and dropped a flat sentence: “Chloe, tonight at seven, my house. Don’t be late, and don’t say things you shouldn’t.” The door closed. That evening, I walked into the Sterling family’s small courtyard alone. The house was brightly lit, filled with loud voices. This wasn’t a family dinner; it was a celebratory banquet. The star of the show was Lily Vance. She was wearing a pristine field-grade woolen uniform, epaulets gleaming, holding Arthur’s arm, laughing and chatting with people. I felt like an outsider who had wandered in by mistake. All eyes turned to me—surprise, disdain, and then undisguised mockery. “Oh, Major Miller is back?” “The sandstorms of the Northern Wasteland didn’t bury you there?” Mother Sterling walked over, looking me up and down: “What are you doing here? Our family doesn’t entertain idle people.” Lily leaned close to Arthur, feigning concern: “Auntie, don’t say that. Major Miller also made contributions in the Northern Wasteland.” An elder walked over with a wine glass, patting Lily’s shoulder: “Arthur has good taste. Lily is young and promising, just promoted to regimental commander. This is what a daughter-in-law of our military region should be like.” He turned to me, his smile cutting: “Unlike some people, messing around for so many years and still just a major, shamelessly clinging to Arthur without looking at what she’s worth!” “Exactly! Hurry up and leave!” I looked at Arthur. He just stood there, watching coldly. He didn’t even furrow his brow. His silence was more piercing than those words. 2 I set down my wine glass, turned, and walked out of the Sterling family’s courtyard. “Chloe Miller! Stop right there!” Arthur chased after me, grabbing my arm tightly under the streetlight: “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?” I threw off his hand. “Let’s break up.” He froze for a second, his face darkening: “Just because my mom told a few truths, you can’t handle it?” “Chloe, think about it yourself! Who’s to blame that you haven’t been promoted all these years? If you had become a regimental commander earlier, who would give you a hard time?” I looked at him, feeling only absurdity. His tone softened a bit: “Alright, stop making a fuss. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let you go in alone to get scolded.” He sounded like he was lecturing a disobedient soldier: “Without me, where could you go? Your current position is only because my dad did an old comrade a favor.” “Besides leading troops into battle, what else can you do? Which unit would want someone like you?” Without allowing any argument, he shoved me into his Jeep. The car drove to the small cafeteria behind the military service cooperative. He dragged me into a private room. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, several young staff officers were laughing and talking: “Officer Sterling is really devoted to Commander Vance.” “For sure. This afternoon, when Commander Vance saw that Officer Sterling still had Chloe Miller’s old photos in his notebook, her face turned black.” “Officer Sterling immediately had someone call Chloe back from the Northern Wasteland. He specifically brought her here to ‘smooth things over’ for Commander Vance.” “Being played for eight years and still kept in the dark, that’s really something…” I stopped dead in my tracks. Arthur’s face stiffened, and he pushed the door open. “What’s so lively in here?” He smiled and pushed me down onto a stool: “Chloe’s stomach isn’t feeling well, so I brought her over for some soup.” The private room fell silent. The officers exchanged weird glances. There were dishes on the table, and a bottle of high-proof white liquor in the middle. Arthur grabbed my enamel mug, poured half a mug of white liquor, and pushed it towards me. “Drink it, warm your stomach.” I have severe stomach issues; the whole division knows it. He knows it best. “Are you crazy? I can’t drink that!” “Giving you face and you don’t take it?” His voice turned cold, “Given the occasion today, don’t be ungrateful.” He picked up the mug and brought it to my lips. The spicy liquid poured in, burning my throat like a knife. I clutched my stomach and bent over, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Arthur glanced at me: “Stop pretending. You’re ruining the mood.” At that moment, Lily, sitting in the seat of honor, suddenly picked up her own mug of liquor, Tilted her head back, and gulped it down forcefully. She drank so fast and hard that the liquor spilled from the corners of her mouth. Arthur’s face turned completely pale. He frantically lunged over to snatch the mug: “Lily! What are you doing! Stop!” Lily pushed his hand away, deliberately taking another huge gulp before wiping her mouth and glaring sideways at me: “I’m unhappy, what’s wrong with having a drink?” Arthur was so anxious his eyes turned red. He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her mouth, his voice trembling: “Do you want to die? It’s only been a few days since your stomach bleed! Have you forgotten what the doctor said?” He turned and glared fiercely at me, as if I had forced Lily to drink: “It’s all your fault! You had to make a scene! Are you satisfied now that you’ve made her so angry?” My stomach felt like it was on fire. I suddenly remembered three years ago. I had just come back from the frontlines, and had a couple of extra drinks at the celebration banquet. He smashed his cup right there, pointed at me, and said: “I hate women who drink and mess things up the most. If you drink like this again, don’t come looking for me.” Since then, I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. It turned out he didn’t hate the alcohol, it depended entirely on who was drinking it. 3 I rushed into the washroom, vomiting uncontrollably. Splashing freezing water on my face barely suppressed the burning sensation in my throat and the churning in my stomach. Just as I wiped my face and turned around, I saw three or four military officers, their faces flushed from drinking, swaggering over with their arms around each other. Leading them was Old Zhao, the commander of the First Battalion. “Well, well, well, isn’t this our great talent, Chloe?” Old Zhao stumbled over and slapped my shoulder hard, “The main character of tonight, why are you hiding here?” Next to him, Deputy Battalion Commander Sun from the Third Battalion immediately let out a strange laugh: “Old Zhao, that’s not right. Staff Officer Miller is battling the elements in the Northern Wasteland. That’s called ‘tempering oneself,’ how can you call it hiding?” “Right, right, right, ‘tempering oneself’!” Old Zhao slapped his thigh, “Back in the military academy, you, Chloe Miller, were the most badass, getting excellent marks in every subject. It’s been eight years since graduation, right?” “Oh, still ‘tempering yourself’ in a major’s position? We brothers are untalented, but we’ve all managed to reach lieutenant colonel.” “Staff Officer Miller has high ambitions, she’s meant to be a regimental commander!” “Regimental commander? I’d say if she ‘tempers herself’ for another eight years, she’d be lucky just to keep that uniform!” Their grating laughter echoed in the washroom. These guys were all my peers from the military academy. Back then, we called each other brothers. I don’t know when it started, but they got transferred and promoted one by one, While I kept bouncing around different battalions and companies, even serving as their deputy for a while. People’s hearts, I guess, just turn cold like that. Back then, they sourly said I had “latched onto a high branch, saving twenty years of struggle,” And now they were taking back the face they’d lost, with interest, by humiliating me. “You guys don’t know shit!” Deputy Battalion Commander Sun winked exaggeratedly, “Chloe Miller’s boyfriend is Division Commander Sterling’s young master! That’s called experiencing life, going deep into the grassroots!” “Her? She’s not even fit to carry Officer Sterling’s bags! A girlfriend? I think she’s daydreaming, she must be crazy!” Amidst the roaring laughter, the door to the cafeteria’s private room opened. Arthur, holding Lily’s hand, walked out surrounded by a crowd, probably having heard the commotion over here. Deputy Battalion Commander Sun’s eyes lit up, and he yelled at the top of his lungs: “Officer Sterling! Commander Vance! Perfect timing to ask. Chloe Miller goes around telling everyone that she and you… have that kind of relationship. Is it true or false?” In an instant, the entire hallway fell dead silent. All eyes were pinned on me. A few young female soldiers were already covering their mouths, snickering. I looked at Arthur. He looked back at me, his face expressionless. Then, a very faint arc curved at the corner of his mouth, and he spoke clearly: “Thank you all for your concern. However, there might be some misunderstanding here.” He raised his hand, which was clasped with Lily’s. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for everyone to hear clearly: “Lily and I submitted our marriage application, and the organization has approved it.” “We will hold our wedding next month. We invite everyone to come have a drink with us then.” After speaking, he didn’t look at me again. Arm in arm with Lily, he walked out of the cafeteria doors with the laughing crowd. Old Zhao and the others still wouldn’t let me go. They leaned in, their alcohol-laced breath blowing in my face. “Hear that? Wedding drinks next month!” “Chloe Miller, you not only lie to us, you even lie to yourself!” “Back then, you were the most badass in the whole squad. And now? When you see me, you have to call me ‘Deputy Regimental Commander’!” I didn’t hear what they said after that. My head was buzzing, only Arthur’s words “marriage application, already approved” remained. Eight years of sweat, eight years of brutal fighting, eight years of hoping. Like a popped soap bubble, nothing was left. I pushed past them, walking through those needle-like gazes, and out of the cafeteria. As the night wind blew, the burning pain in my stomach suddenly seemed to turn numb.

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My husband is a decorated undercover cop. To take down a drug cartel and save a hostage, he was tortured by drug dealers for a whole month. After being rescued, not only was his body covered in scars, but he also suffered from severe sexual dysfunction. The doctor said it was psychological trauma and couldn’t be forced. My heart ached for him. For three years, I didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly while sleeping, terrified of disturbing his fragile nerves. I not only spent all my savings treating his illness but also paid for the schooling of the poor girl he rescued. On the day of the police commendation ceremony, an unreleased surveillance video was mistakenly broadcasted on the big screen. In the video, the man who was always so timid and subservient with me was pressing that same girl onto a desk, venting wildly. His mouth was full of filthy words, his movements as fierce as a wild beast. He hastily covered my eyes. “Don’t look! It was just an act to gain the drug lord’s trust!” “Tech team! Who played that video! Turn it off immediately!” Captain Vance’s roar exploded in the auditorium. The blinding white light vanished from the big screen, and the entire auditorium plunged into a dead, silent darkness. I sat frozen in my seat, my hands and feet ice-cold. The hand covering my eyes carried the familiar smell of tobacco. But it was this very hand that, just moments ago on the screen, was tightly grabbing another girl’s hair. “Chloe, don’t look.” Arthur’s voice was in my ear, as steady as ever, yet with an imperceptible tightness. I didn’t move, nor did I speak. My fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of my shirt, twisting the soft fabric into a hard knot. It’s a small habit of mine when I’m nervous. The lights flipped back on with a snap, stinging my eyes. The gazes of the surrounding colleagues, family members, and everyone else focused on me like spotlights. Sympathy, curiosity, disdain, schadenfreude. Arthur let go, his face a bit pale under the lights, but his eyes remained steady. He took off his crisp police uniform jacket and draped it over my shoulders, covering my slightly trembling frame. “A misunderstanding. Just a special interrogation tactic.” He explained to the people around us. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for the first few rows to hear clearly. “Everyone, please continue. Don’t let this minor hiccup affect the commendation ceremony.” His tone was calm, as if the footage on the screen, which rivaled a pornographic film, was truly just an inconsequential work recording. Captain Vance quickly walked over, apologetic and concerned. “Chloe, are you okay? Those kids in the tech team messing around, I’ll deal with them later!” The way he looked at me was purely an elder’s heartache for a younger generation. For three years, the entire police force knew about Arthur’s illness. They also knew that I had quit my job to take care of him, never leaving his side. In their eyes, I was a great, forbearing, selflessly devoted police wife. But now, this greatness had become a massive joke. “I’m fine, Captain Vance.” I spoke, my voice dry. Arthur put his arm around my shoulders, his grip heavy, carrying an unquestionable dominance. “I’ll take her back to rest first.” He didn’t give anyone a chance to ask more questions. Passing through countless complex gazes, he left the auditorium. The cold wind blew down the corridor, and I shivered. He didn’t let go of me until we got into the car. The space inside the car was cramped. The scent on him, a mix of sweat and wildness, smelled incredibly disgusting to me right now. I turned my head to look out the window, my stomach churning. “It was fake.” He started the car and finally spoke. “What was fake?” “What happened in the video. It was an act for the drug dealers, to gain their trust.” His explanation was exactly what I expected: calm, rational, and flawless. “That girl, Mia. She was in too deep at the time. Without some special tactics, she wouldn’t have talked.” “I thought this kind of footage had been destroyed long ago. I didn’t expect the tech team to make a mistake.” He drove, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “I know it’s hard for you to accept, but that’s my job.” “Chloe, you have to understand me.” Understand. Those two words again. For three years, I understood the trauma left by his failed mission, understood his sexual dysfunction, understood all his sensitivity and fragility. I took care of him like a fragile porcelain doll. But I couldn’t understand how he could, without changing his expression, engage in passionate intercourse with another woman on a desk. Yet in front of me, touching me was like torture. The car stopped downstairs. I didn’t move. Arthur unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over. His face was very close to mine. Those eyes that once made me drown were now full of exhaustion and a complex emotion I couldn’t read. “Stop throwing a tantrum, okay?” His voice was very soft, carrying a coaxing tone. “Mia is still upstairs waiting for us. She was terrified today.” That sentence was like a basin of ice water poured over my head. I snapped my head around, staring at him intently. “Why is she in our house?” 2 Arthur frowned, a flash of impatience in his eyes. “She’s scared to live alone. She just moved in a few days ago.” “I thought I told you.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if this wasn’t my home, but just a hotel where he could take anyone in at will. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. He hadn’t told me. He hadn’t said a thing. I pushed open the car door and stumbled upstairs. I inserted the key into the lock, having to turn it several times before it clicked. The moment the door opened, a waft of unfamiliar perfume hit my face. In the entryway, there was a pair of pink high heels that didn’t belong to me. On the living room sofa, a woman’s jacket was thrown casually. On the coffee table, half-eaten snacks and a fashion magazine. Everything here was declaring the presence of another mistress of the house. Mia walked out of the master bedroom, wearing my pajamas. It was a silk set I had gritted my teeth to buy for my birthday, but had never borne to wear. Now, it hung loosely on Mia’s slender frame. The neckline was open wide, revealing a large expanse of suggestive red marks. “Arthur, Chloe, you’re back?” Seeing us, she wore the panicked expression of a frightened rabbit, subconsciously pulling her collar together. “I’m sorry, Chloe, your pajamas… My clothes were all being washed, and Arthur told me to wear yours for now.” She looked at me timidly, her eyes watery, as if I were the villain who had taken over the nest. Arthur walked in and naturally took the water glass from Mia’s hand, taking a sip. “You were scared, right? It’s okay now.” He patted Mia’s head, his movements intimate and natural. That kind of gentleness I had only seen when he first returned from the mission, when his mind was at its most fragile. “I’ll go make dinner.” I dropped those words and fled into the kitchen. The cold water washed over my hands, but I couldn’t feel the chill. My body felt like ignited cotton, burning from the inside out. I could hear them talking in low voices in the living room. “Arthur, is Chloe mad? It’s all my fault.” Mia’s voice was tinged with crying. “Don’t overthink it, she just hasn’t wrapped her head around it yet.” Arthur’s voice was deep. “You had a scare today, go back to your room and rest early.” “But I’m scared. Every time I close my eyes, I see the images from the surveillance.” “Then I’ll stay with you for a while.” The door was gently closed. I turned off the faucet and leaned against the cold counter, trembling all over. So, it wasn’t that he couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t do it with me. For dinner, I made three dishes and a soup, all Arthur’s favorites. At the dining table, for the first time, I didn’t serve him food as usual. The atmosphere was terrifyingly oppressive. Mia kept her head down, taking tiny bites of rice, her eyes red. Arthur didn’t look good either; he put down his chopsticks after a few bites. “I’m full.” He stood up, pulled a stack of cash from his wallet, and put it on the table. “Living expenses for this month. Tell me if it’s not enough.” I looked at the stack of crisp, red bills and found it incredibly glaring. When did our relationship become reduced to just this? “Are Mia’s tuition and rent coming out of this too?” I asked, driven by some inexplicable impulse. Arthur paused, turned to look at me, his eyes turning cold. “She’s a girl, alone and helpless. It’s only right that I help her out.” “Chloe, I didn’t think you were this petty.” Petty? I spent all our savings to treat his so-called “illness.” I sold the jewelry my mother left me to pay for the schooling of this “poor” girl he talked about. And in the end, all I get is being called petty. My heart felt like it was gripped by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. “Yes, I am petty.” I looked up, meeting his gaze. “Arthur, tell her to move out.” “This is our home.” Mia’s chopsticks clattered to the floor. She shrank her shoulders in fear and burst into tears. Arthur’s face darkened completely. He didn’t look at me, but walked over to Mia and bent down to pick up the chopsticks. “Don’t be scared.” He pulled Mia up and shielded her behind him, as if facing some heinous enemy. “Chloe, have you thrown enough of a tantrum?” 3 Watching him protect another woman, I laughed out loud, but the tears fell disobediently. “Arthur, who exactly is throwing a tantrum?” “These past three years, I’ve lived like a ghost for you.” “I didn’t dare speak loudly, didn’t dare turn on the light to sleep, afraid of disturbing your fragile nerves.” “I treated you as my sky, my everything, and what about you?” “You’re out there sleeping with another woman, and then come home and tell me it was for work!” “How can you expect me to believe that? How can you expect me to understand?” My voice grew louder and louder, almost turning into a scream. Three years of accumulated grievances and pain exploded at this moment. Mia trembled even more violently behind him, crying and saying: “Chloe, don’t blame Arthur, it’s all my fault. If it wasn’t to save me, he wouldn’t have…” “Shut up!” Arthur suddenly growled, cutting Mia off. The chill in his eyes almost froze me. “Chloe, do you think I’m lying to you?” I bit my lip and didn’t speak, but the distrust in my eyes said it all. He suddenly laughed, a laugh full of self-deprecation and endless exhaustion. “Fine, since you don’t believe me, I’ll show you the proof.” He took out his phone, his fingers tapping rapidly on the screen, then threw the phone in front of me. On the screen was a hospital diagnosis report. Severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, accompanied by severe physiological dysfunction. The black and white text stung my eyes. Below it were a few video clips, recordings of his hypnotherapy sessions with the psychiatrist. In the video, he was curled up in a ball on the sofa like a helpless child, covered in cold sweat, muttering things I couldn’t understand. That was the most fragile side of Arthur I had never seen. “See?” His voice was terribly hoarse. “The doctor said my trauma stems from that month of torture. I have an instinctive resistance and fear of all intimate contact.” “The reason what happened with Mia was an exception…” He paused, seeming to search for the right words. “The doctor analyzed that it might be because she and I went through the same hell. My subconscious viewed her as safe, so it lowered its defense mechanisms.” “This is a pathological reaction, not a betrayal.” His explanation sounded flawless, even carrying a scientific rigor. So, I wasn’t his exception. I was the unsafe factor being excluded. “So, I’m the cause of your illness, right?” I muttered to myself. Arthur didn’t seem to expect me to say that and froze. He came over, wanting to hug me, but I took a sharp step back. His outstretched hand froze in mid-air, his expression complex. “Chloe, it’s not what you think.” “I love you, I just want to live a good life with you.” “Give me some time, okay? I’ll cure myself.” His voice was very light, carrying a hint of pleading. I felt like I was going crazy. That night, for the first time, Arthur didn’t sleep in the study. He lay beside me, his body stiff, but our hearts were separated by an unbridgeable chasm. 4 The next morning, when I woke up, Arthur was already gone. In a daze, I packed a few clothes and stuffed them into a suitcase. I needed to get out of here and clear my head. I sent Arthur a message, telling him I was going to stay at my mom’s for a few days. He didn’t reply. Dragging my suitcase downstairs, at the entrance of our complex, I saw Arthur’s car parked not far away. He hadn’t left. An indescribable feeling flashed through my heart. Pulling my suitcase, I walked step by step towards his car. The window rolled down, but the face revealed wasn’t Arthur’s. It was Captain Vance. “Chloe, where are you going?” Captain Vance’s expression was very serious. “I… I’m going home to stay for a few days.” Captain Vance sighed and opened the car door. “Get in, let’s talk.” The car didn’t head towards my parents’ house, but drove in circles along the city’s most congested main road. “Arthur, that kid, he’s got a stubborn and foul temper.” Captain Vance said as he drove. “I know you’ve been wronged, but you also know what he went through these past three years.” “That month, it wasn’t a life fit for a human. If it were me, I might have gone crazy long ago.” I kept my head down, my fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of my shirt again. I had heard these words countless times. “I know.” “Not only do you know, but you’ve done very well.” Captain Vance glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Everyone in the squad says Arthur must have accumulated karma for eight lifetimes to marry such a good wife like you.” “But Chloe, some things can’t be solved just by being ‘good’.” My heart seized. “Captain Vance, do you know something?” Captain Vance was silent for a long time, so long I thought he wouldn’t speak again. He parked the car by the river, lit a cigarette. Took a hard drag. “About Mia… Arthur didn’t tell you the whole truth.” My stomach lurched, and a wave of nausea washed over me. This physical reaction was even faster than my brain. I didn’t expect that his next words would completely push me into the abyss. 5 “Mia isn’t just some ordinary hostage.” “She’s the god-sister of the drug cartel boss.” My brain buzzed, going completely blank. “What did you say?” “On that mission, Arthur’s objective was to take down the entire drug ring.” “Mia grew up in that environment and obeyed her brother completely. It took Arthur a long time to make her waver.” “Later, when things were exposed, her brother wanted to clean house. Arthur got captured trying to protect her.” “So, he wasn’t tortured because he was trying to save a hostage. He was protecting Mia?” I felt my voice shaking. “You could say that.” “Then, what about that video?” “It’s fake.” Captain Vance blew a smoke ring, the smoke blurring his face. “Arthur had the squad make a fake video to get the final piece of evidence.” “The squad unified the story to protect his reputation and to give Mia a chance at a fresh start.” My marriage, my love, everything I had given over the past three years, was built on a massive lie. “Why… why are you telling me this?” It took all my strength to ask that question. Captain Vance crushed his cigarette, his eyes full of struggle and pity. “Because Arthur, that kid, is in too deep.” “To him, Mia isn’t just a mission anymore.” The air in the car seemed to freeze. Better a short pain than a long one. How easy it is to say. Three years of my youth, my wholehearted devotion, the love I thought was unbreakable—it turns out it was a joke from the very beginning. I don’t even know how I got out of the car, or how I returned to that so-called home. Pushing open the door, the house was empty. Mia wasn’t there, and Arthur wasn’t there. That’s good. I needed space alone to digest the truth. I lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. My eyes ached with dryness, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. My phone vibrated. It was a multimedia message from an unknown number. A photo. In the photo, Arthur and Mia were sitting in a luxuriously decorated Western restaurant, making a wish in front of candles. Mia wore a birthday crown on her head, smiling brightly and sweetly. Arthur’s eyes held a gentleness and doting that I had never seen before. Below the photo was a line of text: Chloe, Arthur is celebrating my birthday, we’ll be back late. He was afraid you’d overthink it and told me not to tell you. My fingers began to tremble uncontrollably. I dialed Arthur’s number. It rang for a long time before being answered. “Hello?” His voice was a bit impatient. “Where are you?” My voice was terrifyingly calm. “In a meeting at the station, what’s wrong?” He lied without batting an eye. “Arthur, come back immediately.” “I said I’m in a meeting. Stop being unreasonable.” “I’m telling you to come back!” I finally lost control and screamed. The other end was silent for a few seconds, and then came Mia’s timid voice: “Arthur, is it Chloe… you should go back, I’m fine.” Beep beep beep… The call was hung up. I smashed my phone hard onto the floor, the screen instantly shattering into pieces. I rushed into the bedroom, pulled open the wardrobe, and threw out Mia’s eyesore clothes one by one. Dresses, underwear, stockings… The door crashed open with a bang. Arthur rushed in, saw the mess on the floor, and his face instantly darkened. “Chloe, what kind of crazy fit are you throwing now?” He grabbed my wrist with a force that almost crushed my bones. “Me? Crazy?” I shook off his hand, pointing at the clothes on the floor, yelling hysterically: “Arthur, you tell me, what are these?” “You bring her home, she sleeps in my bed, wears my pajamas, and now you lie to me saying you’re in a meeting while you run off to celebrate her birthday!” “What exactly do you take me for?” A flash of panic appeared in Arthur’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an icy calm. “I just felt sorry for her, having her birthday alone…” “Sorry for her?” I sneered. “She’s the sister of a drug dealer. She almost got you killed, and you feel sorry for her?” “Arthur, stop lying to me! Captain Vance told me everything!” “The so-called rescue was fake, and your love for me is fake too!” Arthur’s body stiffened violently, his eyes filled with disbelief. He stared at me dead on. “He told you?” “Yes.” The air was dead silent. After a long time, he suddenly laughed. That laugh no longer held any exhaustion or pretense, only a reckless indifference. “Fine, since you know everything, I have nothing to hide.” He walked up to me, looking down at me from above. “That’s right, it was all fake.” “What I feel for Mia isn’t a mission, and it isn’t pity.”

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My fiancé has a female best friend. He’s liked her for ten years, drunkenly confessing: “I don’t confess because I’m afraid if I say it, we won’t even be friends anymore.” I wasn’t angry. I quietly bought rings and ordered a wedding dress. My fiancé privately complained to his friends that I was forcing him into marriage, even joking that he’d leave me stranded at the altar. Until he realized that this wedding had absolutely nothing to do with him. “I’ll take this one.” In the bridal boutique, I finally chose a dress. The saleswoman asked, “Do you need to ask your partner’s opinion?” In the entire shop, every other girl was accompanied by her boyfriend. Only I was alone. I smiled: “No need, he’ll love it.” While sitting on the sofa waiting to pay, a notification popped up on my phone. A thread I followed had been updated. The title of the thread was “Loving a Girl for Ten Years.” The original poster was a guy. Underneath, countless people were urging him: 【Just confess already.】 He replied: 【I don’t dare. I’m afraid if I confess, we won’t even be friends anymore.】 The person who posted this thread was my fiancé, Arthur Sterling. 2 When I got home, Arthur was drinking with his friends. In a group of guys, there was only one girl. She had a smoking hot body, wearing black pantyhose, yet she sat cross-legged on the sofa, completely unbothered and carefree. I knew this girl. Her name was Mia. She was Arthur’s best “bro.” “Listen up, guys. Whoever gets a girlfriend has to let your ‘daddy’ approve first, got it?” Someone immediately cheered: “The one Artie’s dating is almost ready for marriage, right?” Mia’s smile stiffened for a second. She lightly kicked Arthur with her pantyhose-clad foot: “Oh? You’ve got it going on. No wonder you haven’t been coming out to play lately. Turns out you’re getting married? Bros before hoes, man!” Arthur leaned back lazily on the sofa, half-dodging: “Nothing like that.” “Don’t be shy. If you really get married, your ‘daddy’ will definitely give you a massive red envelope.” Mia laughed and patted Arthur, but for some reason, her eyes looked a bit red. She picked up her beer bottle and took a few gulps. Arthur looked at her: “Stop drinking.” “Mind your own business!” “You’ve had too much…” “You’ve had too much, damn it. I’ll drink if I want to, it’s none of your business!” Mia said this, but acting as if the alcohol hit her hard, she gradually slumped onto Arthur. “Arthur…” she murmured, seeming like she wanted to say something. Arthur couldn’t hear clearly. He lowered his head, bringing his ear close to the girl’s lips. The atmosphere reached its peak of ambiguity at this moment. However— Bang. I opened the door. 3 The whole house went quiet for a moment. I didn’t look at a single one of them. I put down my bag, changed my shoes, and went into the study. I didn’t say a word the entire time. Slowly, voices drifted from outside. Someone said: “Artie, I think your girl is mad.” They thought I was angry and giving Arthur an attitude. Arthur probably thought so too. I just heard him speak, his voice carrying impatience: “Leave her alone.” He put on a song using the speakers, and the originally chilled atmosphere in the living room gradually livened up again. Mia fell asleep slumped over to the side. Arthur took off his jacket and covered her with it. Someone said to Arthur: “Artie, call your girl out to hang with us.” Arthur’s voice was flat: “No need, she has social anxiety.” I indeed had social anxiety, or more accurately, an anxiety disorder. Speaking in a crowd made my hands shake and gave me cold sweats. Because of this, I had almost no social life. Everything revolved around Arthur. He once kissed me gently: “Chloe, I’m so lucky to have met a girl like you who only has eyes for me.” But now, what used to be a virtue had become a flaw. “You guys don’t get it. I really wish she’d go out and socialize more, make some friends,” Arthur complained after taking a sip of his drink. Someone joked: “Your girl is so pretty. If she really started socializing, a ton of guys would be fighting for her number. Then she wouldn’t have time for you.” Arthur chuckled: “Let her go. Meet some other guys instead of clinging to me every day like she does now.” His voice was very relaxed, certain that I wouldn’t go. My anxiety required regular hospital visits for medication; I simply couldn’t participate in any social activities. The so-called “fairness” of both sides being able to make friends of the opposite sex was really just to accommodate his own freedom. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t care anymore. Taking out my iPad, I started drawing a sketch for the wedding invitation. In the top left corner, I drew the initials of the bride and groom in a flourished script: “C & J”. The bride was me, Chloe. But the groom wasn’t Arthur. Once I finished drawing this invitation, I was going to marry the person I wanted to marry when I was sixteen. 4 Arthur thought I was giving him the silent treatment. He didn’t try to coax me, and slept alone that night. I drew until midnight. During a break, I scrolled through my phone and saw a “People You May Know” suggestion. It was Mia. Her latest post was from thirty minutes ago. In the video, with a mouthful of liquor, she kissed Arthur amidst the cheers of the crowd. The caption read: 【Childhood friends, but strictly lip service.】 The location was my living room. In the warm yellow light, their silhouettes looked handsome and beautiful, full of romantic atmosphere. In the comments, many oblivious people were shouting “Perfect match.” There were also a few sparse comments saying: 【Can’t stand this. If you’re flirting, just say so. What’s this ‘friendship’ nonsense?】 【This world has gotten too weird for me to understand.】 These comments were quickly attacked by a group of people. Mia personally replied: 【Don’t be so obsessed with gender norms, OK? I kiss guys and girls like this. I kiss pretty girls even harder.】 Her edgy response attracted another wave of new replies: 【Ahhhh I volunteer.】 【Kiss me, sis.】 For some reason, I actually laughed out loud watching this. My eyes felt hot, and tears streamed down. But it wasn’t because of Mia or Arthur. It was the phrase “childhood friends” that suddenly made me think of my Julian. I hadn’t dared to think about Julian this seriously in a long time. White shirt, iced soda, the boy’s unruly and untamed features under the sunlight. I rushed up and hugged him when he sank the final buzzer-beater three-pointer. Amidst the roaring crowd, he blushed: “Hey, you can only do this kind of thing with a girlfriend.” “What, you don’t want to?” My heart sank halfway. “No, it’s just… too fast.” He pulled out his phone, frantically checking an order. “The flowers I bought are still out for delivery.” Later, when Julian bought a car, the first thing he did was put a sticker on the passenger seat—”Reserved for Chloe.” He also bought a little plush bunny. “Here, the seat saver.” He patted the bunny’s silly head. “When Chloe isn’t here, you have to save this seat for her. Don’t let anyone else sit in it.” We were together for seven years. Julian bought a new little bunny every year. He said: “Once I collect all seven to summon the dragon, I’m going to apply to be your official husband.” He didn’t lie to me. Hidden in the little apron of the seventh bunny was a very large diamond ring. That was the last gift Julian left for me. He couldn’t give it to me himself. I ended up getting it from the police. The bunny in the blue apron was mixed in with a pile of evidence from the car crash scene. Everything else was stained with dark, almost black blood. Only this bunny, its fluffy white smiling face bright and radiant, remained spotless. The police said that before he died, Julian had hidden it in his chest, protecting it very well. Right now, that little bunny was sitting on my nightstand along with the others. I walked over and gently stroked their heads. Julian. I miss you so much. How can I miss you so much. … Suddenly, my hand froze. No, it wasn’t there. That little bunny wearing the blue apron was missing. A chill suddenly engulfed me, a wave of dizziness hit, and I opened my eyes wide, only then noticing— The sheets and blankets were full of wrinkles. On the pillow, there were two long chestnut hairs. Someone had slept in my room last night. But I didn’t care about that anymore. I just wanted to find the little bunny Julian left me. I searched the house like a madwoman, finally finding it in the kitchen trash can. The little bunny was mixed in with a pile of food scraps. Its body had become very dirty, and there was a dark footprint on it. From a high heel. Blood rushed to my head. I charged to Arthur’s bedroom door and pounded heavily on it. A few seconds later, he opened it. “Here to make up?” he smiled lazily. Arthur thought I was here to ask for peace. It had always been this way in the past. When I got angry, he ignored it, and in our long cold wars, I was always the one to back down first, knocking on his door to coax him. But right now, I held up that bunny: “What is this?” Arthur’s smile vanished. He tried to close the door impatiently: “How should I know?” I suddenly exploded. Forcefully holding the door open, I stared into Arthur’s eyes: “Who did you let sleep in my room last night? Mia, wasn’t it?” Arthur’s eyes showed a brief flash of guilt. But he quickly became irritable and impatient: “Yeah, so what? She drank too much. It’s not safe for a girl to go back late at night…” A crisp smack filled the air. I slapped Arthur across the face. Arthur was stunned. Then he became enraged. “Are you crazy? There’s nothing between us! If there really was something, I would have let her sleep in the master bedroom, alright?!” I looked at his face. For a long time, I stared blankly, lowering my eyes. “Let’s break up.” Julian, it was you who told me I must live happily, that I must find someone who loves me like you did. But I understand now. No one is like you. “Say that again?” I heard Arthur’s voice. He was truly angry. “We are breaking up.” I repeated expressionlessly. Not looking at Arthur’s expression anymore, I turned my head, took the bunny into the bathroom, and scrubbed it vigorously. As I washed, tears kept falling. Arthur’s voice came from outside: “Chloe, are you fucking crazy?” “How much is a bunny worth anyway? I’ll buy you ten more, okay?” Only the sound of rushing water answered him from inside. Arthur’s patience was completely exhausted. He turned and slammed the door as he left, leaving me alone in the house. 5 It took me a long time to wash that bunny clean. Hanging it out to dry on the balcony, in the wind of the clear sky, it gradually became snow-white, fluffy, and warm again. It will get better. Then I should too, right? I found a long-term rental at a bed and breakfast online, then packed my things. Not much—a small duffel bag was enough. The only things that needed to be boxed were the row of bunnies on the nightstand. The one with the bowtie, the one in the jersey, the one with sunglasses… The only one that made me hesitate was the bunny in the spacesuit. Out of all the bunnies, only this one was bought for me by Arthur. Back then, we weren’t together yet, and Arthur put a lot of effort into pursuing me. His family was wealthy. Growing up, whenever he met a girl he liked, he only knew to throw money at her, and he usually won them over. Except me. The luxury goods he bought me, I returned unopened; the fancy restaurants he took me to, I quickly paid for the next meal. Eventually, he found out from somewhere that I loved this series of little bunnies. At that time, this spacesuit bunny was just about to be released. It was a limited edition. He flew overnight to the launch event in New York, waited in line for over ten hours in a sea of people, almost got into a fight, and finally managed to snag the very last one. When I found him, he was covered in sweat, with a scrape on his face, but he waved at me vigorously through the crowd: “Look! Chloe! What is this!” His tall figure stood out in the crowd, his smile as radiant as the sun. He looked so much like Julian. That day I couldn’t hold it back, hugging the bunny and crying my eyes out. Arthur stood next to me, awkwardly comforting me: “Don’t cry, don’t cry. This little scratch doesn’t hurt. From now on, I’ll buy every single one for you…” In that instant, my thoughts drifted back to a sunny afternoon many years ago. Julian and I were sitting on a park bench on campus, and he suddenly asked me: “If I got a terminal illness, what would you do?” “Pfft, pfft, pfft!” I jumped up to cover Julian’s mouth. He dodged everywhere: “If! I’m saying if!” “Then I’d send you off first, and then follow you in death. Satisfied?” “No.” Julian pulled me into his arms. His expression suddenly became very serious. “Chloe, listen to me.” “You have to live a good, happy life. You have to find someone who loves you like I do. “And you have to love him well, because loving someone is even happier than being loved. I want to see you happy. “Only if you’re happy will I be happy in heaven.” Julian, do you know? The second year after you left, when Arthur held up that bunny to me in the crowd, I thought that person had appeared. I was going to work hard at living, work hard at packing everything related to you safely away in my memories, and clear out space in my heart for him. Work hard at being happy. But now I understand. No one is like you. And there never will be anyone like you again. I put the bunny in the spacesuit into my bag. It bared its teeth and smiled at me, cute and mischievous. “I’m going to return you now.” I patted its head and said softly.

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The day I tore up my acceptance letter to a top university, my mom cried on the bed, and my brother cried outside the door. Ten years later, my brother returned from studying abroad with a gilded resume, a $500,000 annual salary, and a wealthy, beautiful girlfriend. I was still hunched over a sewing machine in a garment factory, my hands covered in needle pricks. Our old house was demolished, yielding a compensation of $6.23 million. My mom held my hand: “It’s all yours, Chloe. Mom is so sorry for what she put you through.” I fell to my knees: “Mom, give it to Noah. He needs money to get married.” My mom slapped me and cried, “Mom isn’t senile!” My brother’s girlfriend pointed her finger at my nose: “What does a factory worker need all that money for? Let it collect dust in the bank?” My brother remained silent the entire time, his eyes darting away. My mom pulled a metal tin from under the bed, inside was a stack of yellowing papers: “This is your three years of high school tutoring fees. Your sister paid for it.” “This is your four years of college living expenses. Your sister transferred it.” “This is your first year’s tuition for studying abroad. Your sister borrowed it.” “Noah Davis, your sister put you through school for ten years, not so you could pay her back.” “It’s so you remember that your glamorous life was bought with your sister’s torn-up acceptance letter.” “Now, please get out.” My mom stood in front of me like a mother wolf protecting her pup. 1. That year, I was eighteen. Clutching my acceptance letter to Parsons School of Design, I stood in the hospital corridor. The doctor said my dad couldn’t be saved. My mom fainted from crying in the hospital room. My brother, Noah, was fifteen, curled up on a bench like an abandoned puppy. Relatives came in waves, leaving behind sighs and thin envelopes of cash. I heard them say: “Looks like Chloe won’t be going to college after all.” … Three days later, we buried my dad. My mom lay in bed, unable to get up, saying she was overwhelmed with grief. We later found out her chronic kidney disease had worsened. Noah cried so hard he couldn’t stand; I supported him the whole time. My aunt held my hand: “The garment factory is hiring. Room and board included, two thousand a month. If you want to go, I’ll introduce you.” I turned to look at Noah standing in the doorway. “Sis…” he called out, his voice impossibly hoarse. I went over and hugged him. He leaned on my shoulder, his tears soaking through my shirt. That night. I sat in front of my dad’s memorial photo and tore my acceptance letter to pieces. The red fragments fell into the brazier, quickly curling, blackening, and turning to ash. My mom was crying in the inner room, her sobs heavily suppressed. The next day, I went to the employment agency and filled out a form. The staff asked what I could do. I said I could use a sewing machine. “Garment factory hiring, room and board included, two thousand a month, overtime extra. You in?” “I’m in.” And just like that, I became a worker at the Eastside Garment Factory. I was eighteen that year, employee number 247. 2. Ten years. It’s a light word, taking only a second to say. But for me, it was torment. The first three years were the hardest. My mom got sick, her chronic kidney disease turning into renal failure. She had to do dialysis twice a week, and every time, she looked like she had died and come back. Noah was in high school. Tuition, tutoring fees, living expenses—it was a bottomless pit. My dad’s settlement money was like a pebble thrown into a river; a small splash, and then it was gone. During the day, I pedaled the sewing machine in the workshop. At night, I bussed tables at a night market food stall. I’d get home in the early hours of the morning, massage my mom’s swollen legs, and check Noah’s homework. In the fourth year, Noah got into college—a top university in San Francisco. Tuition was eight thousand a year, housing twelve hundred. I stayed up all night doing the math. In the end, I borrowed from coworkers and relatives, scrapping together enough for his first year’s tuition. The day I sent Noah to the train station. He hugged me and wouldn’t let go. “Sis, when I graduate, I’ll definitely make sure you have a good life.” I patted his back: “Just study hard, don’t think about these things.” The train pulled away. I stood on the platform, my eyes stinging. In the seventh year, Noah said he wanted to do an exchange year abroad. I asked over the phone: “How much?” Noah’s voice was low: “Tuition and living expenses, about two hundred thousand. Sis, maybe we should just forget it.” “Go. I’ll figure out the money.” I started borrowing again. Coworkers, relatives, neighbors… Eight people pitched in fifty thousand. It wasn’t enough. Finally, I found a payday loan online. The interest rate was terrifying. My hand shook as I signed, but thinking of Noah’s future, I signed it anyway. The tenth year, which is this year, I am twenty-eight. Ten years. I went from a blushing teenage girl to “Chloe,” the fastest worker in the shop. My hands were covered in calluses, my knuckles chronically cracked, and I had lumbar muscle strain that made it impossible to stand straight on rainy days. I had never dated. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I had neither the time nor the money. The older women at the factory had set me up a few times, but nothing ever came of it after the first meeting. They thought I had too much baggage—a sick mother and a brother still in school. I don’t resent him. Really. When I saw the photos Noah sent. Seeing him looking so confident speaking at an academic conference. I felt it was worth it. Sometimes, biking through the empty streets late at night after work. I would think back to that summer when I was eighteen. Think back to that red acceptance letter. Think back to my homeroom teacher saying, “Chloe, you are the pride of our school.” If I had gone to New York back then. What would my life be like now? I don’t know. And I don’t dare to imagine. 3. The news of the demolition spread this spring. The old neighborhood we lived in was slated for redevelopment. City officials went door-to-door, registering, measuring square footage, and assessing compensation. Our two-story house was originally assigned by my dad’s workplace, and we later bought the property rights. Six hundred square feet. The day the assessment value came out. The city official came to our door personally. “Mrs. Davis, congratulations! The assessment is out, $6.23 million!” My mom was prepping vegetables, and her hand shook so much she dropped them all over the floor. “H-how much?” The official grinned from ear to ear: “$6.23 million! With your square footage and this prime location, that’s the compensation amount!” I had to hold onto the doorframe to keep from collapsing. $6.23 million. At $4,200 a month, I’d have to work 140 years without eating or drinking to save that. The official left, and the house was terrifyingly quiet. My mom sat on her small stool, staring at the vegetables on the floor, not speaking for a long time. I called out softly: “Mom?” Her eyes were red: “Chloe, I’ve decided what to do with this money.” I was bewildered: “Huh?” Every word she spoke seemed to take all her strength: “It’s all yours. I’m not keeping a cent. It’s all yours.” My legs gave out, and I almost knelt on the floor. “Mom, what are you talking about! This money has to be saved for your retirement, and for Noah?” My mom suddenly raised her voice: “Noah can earn his own money! He’s in San Francisco making tens of thousands a month! And you? You make four thousand a month and still have to pay off debts!” I was stunned. So Mom knew. She knew I had debts on the outside. I felt guilty and whispered: “Those debts… are almost paid off…” My mom stood up abruptly, swaying because she moved too fast. I quickly supported her. “So what if they are? You’re twenty-eight! You’ve never dated, you’re not married, you don’t even have a decent piece of clothing! These past ten years, how much have you sacrificed for this family, for your brother? Mom knows in her heart!” She grabbed my hand: “This money, Mom insists on giving it to you! If you don’t take it, Mom will donate it! Donate it to a charity school, no one else is getting it!” My eyes welled up with tears: “Mom!” My mom cried: “Don’t try to persuade me! Chloe, Mom is so sorry. I dragged you down for ten years. Mom was useless, making you suffer so much. Now that we finally have some money, Mom just wants to compensate you. Just let Mom compensate you this once, okay?” I broke down in tears. Mother and daughter held each other, crying like two fools. That night. I called Noah. It rang for a long time before he answered. The background was loud, like a bar. “Sis? What’s up so late?” His voice was a bit slurred, probably from drinking. “Noah, about the demolition money, the assessment is out.” “Oh, that. Mom told me, over six million, right? Sis, don’t worry, when I get the money, I’ll give you a million. That’s enough for you to buy a place in the county.” My heart sank bit by bit. “Noah, Mom’s intention is to give it all to me.” The other end of the line went silent. After a few seconds. Noah laughed: “Sis, stop joking.” “I’m not joking. Mom said it in front of the city official today.” Noah’s voice rose: “Has Mom gone senile? Give it all to you? Why?” “Mom said I suffered for ten years.” Noah got agitated: “And what about me? Did I not suffer out here? Sis, do you know how much pressure I’m under in SF? Rent is eight thousand a month, food and socializing is another four or five thousand. Mia’s family has high standards; the down payment for a marital home alone is three million. My five hundred thousand salary sounds like a lot, but after taxes, what’s left? Saving two hundred thousand a year is considered good!” I gripped my phone, a sour feeling welling up in my heart. “Noah, Mom’s health is getting worse. What about medical expenses?” Noah cut me off: “I’ll pay for the medical expenses, but the demolition money must be split evenly! This is the house Dad left behind, I have a share too!” “Mom won’t agree.” Noah practically yelled: “Then persuade her! Sis, I remember how much you sacrificed for me! When I have money in the future, I will definitely compensate you! But right now, I really need this money! Whether Mia and I can get married depends on this house!” I closed my eyes and asked: “Noah, can I really not have this money?” Noah’s voice softened, filled with pleading: “Sis! I’m begging you, okay? Talk to Mom. Split it evenly, or you take a bit more and just give me three million. Mia is pregnant; I need to give her a home!!!” I snapped my eyes open: “What? Pregnant?” “Yeah, two months. I haven’t dared to tell the family yet. Sis, I really need this money, please.” The call disconnected. I sat frozen for a long, long time. Pregnant. Noah was going to have a child. I was going to be an aunt. But why? Why couldn’t I feel happy at all? 4. Noah and Mia arrived the following afternoon. Mia wore a tailored suit and carried a bag that looked very expensive. “Auntie, Sis, we’re back.” She placed a gift box on the table. “Auntie, I brought you some bird’s nest, it’s good for your health.” My mom sat in her chair, nodded, and didn’t say a word. The atmosphere was stiff. I poured tea, and the four of us sat around the dilapidated dining table. No one spoke first. Finally, Mia broke the silence: “Auntie, I heard the house is being demolished? Congratulations, your life will finally improve.” My mom just hummed in acknowledgment. Mia said carefully: “Um, about the demolition, Noah and I discussed it, and we think it’s best to split it evenly. We’re family after all, harmony brings wealth.” My mom looked straight at Mia: “Mia, you’re a good girl, but this is Davis family business. You shouldn’t interfere.” Mia’s face changed. Noah quickly chimed in: “Mom, Mia isn’t an outsider. She’s my fiancée, and she’s carrying your grandchild!” My mom froze and looked at me. I lowered my head. My mom’s voice trembled: “Pregnant?” Noah held Mia’s hand: “Yes, two months along. So Mom, I really need this money urgently. Mia’s family requires us to buy a house in SF, and the down payment is three million. My savings plus this money is just enough.” My mom asked: “So you came back for money just to buy a house?” Noah choked on his words. “Mom, that’s not what I meant…” My mom’s voice suddenly turned fierce: “Then what do you mean? Your sister suffered for ten years to put you through school and study abroad! Now that you want to get married and buy a house, you want to take the money that belongs to her? Noah Davis, where is your conscience?!” Noah’s face turned bright red: “How do I lack a conscience? I said, when I have money in the future, I will compensate her!” “In the future? When is ‘in the future’? Your sister is twenty-eight this year! She gave the best ten years of her life to this family! What ‘future’ does she have?!” My mom started coughing violently. I quickly patted her back: “Mom, don’t get worked up…” My mom grabbed my hand, tears streaming down her old face: “How can I not get worked up? Chloe, tell them right now, do you want this money or not?” Three pairs of eyes in the room stared at me. Noah’s eyes held pleading. Mia’s eyes held scrutiny. My mom’s eyes held absolute resolve. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Noah looked at me, his eyes red: “Sis, since we were kids, you loved me the most. When I got into college, you were happier than anyone. When I left for the UK, you cried like a baby at the airport. Sis, I know you sacrificed a lot for me, and I remember it all. When I’m stable, I’ll repay you properly, but right now, I really need this money.” He was crying. My brother. The brother who used to trail behind me calling “Sis” was crying. My heart ached like it was being sliced by a knife. I knelt down, kneeling in front of my mom: “Mom, give this money to Noah, he needs it.” My mom slapped me hard across the face. It wasn’t heavy, but it was loud. I froze, and Noah and Mia froze too. My mom’s voice shook: “Chloe Davis! Stand up right now!” I remained kneeling, unmoving. My mom practically roared: “Stand up!” I slowly stood up, my cheek burning. “These past ten years, how many times have you knelt for your brother? Begging the school for an extension on tuition, begging relatives to borrow money, begging the factory for an advance on your wages.” My mom was shaking as she cried. “And now, you want to kneel for him again? Chloe Davis, are your knees really worth that little?!” I cried too: “Mom, he’s my brother… he’s having a baby… he needs money…” My mom pointed at my face: “He needs money, and you don’t? Look at yourself! Twenty-eight years old, looking like you’re thirty-eight! Your hands are covered in calluses, your back hurts so much you can’t sleep at night! Can you think of yourself for once?! Just once!” I cried so hard I couldn’t speak. Noah cried too: “Mom, Sis, stop arguing. I don’t want the money anymore, I don’t want it, okay?” Mia suddenly stood up and said coldly: “Auntie, I respect you as an elder, but your words are too harsh. Noah is your son. He wants to get married and have kids, he needs money to buy a house, is that wrong? Sister sacrificed a lot, but she did it willingly, Noah didn’t force her. Using that for moral kidnapping now, is that interesting?” The room fell dead silent. My mom looked at Mia, looked at her for a long time, and then laughed. A desolate, sarcastic laugh. My mom muttered to herself: “Willingly… yes, she was willing… willing to give up college, willing to work in a factory, willing to support her brother… all willingly…” She raised her hand and pointed at the door: “Leave. I won’t give a single cent of this money. If you want to sue, go sue. If you want to make a scene, go make a scene. I only have one thing to say: this money goes entirely to Chloe, and no one else is taking it.” Noah wanted to say something else, but Mia pulled him back. Mia kept a cold face: “Auntie, I’ll remember everything you said today. I hope you don’t regret it later.” They left. The door closed, leaving only me and my mom in the room. My mom collapsed into her chair as if all her strength had been drained. I walked over, squatted in front of her, and held her hand. Her hands were very cold and shaking. “Chloe, was Mom too cruel?” I shook my head, tears falling onto the back of her hand. She touched my face: “Mom just doesn’t want you to suffer any more grievances. Did that slap hurt?” I shook my head: “It didn’t hurt.” My mom’s tears fell: “Liar. Mom’s biggest regret in this life is you. When your dad passed, he held my hand and said, ‘Susan, our Chloe has potential, you must make sure she goes to college.’ But Mom was useless, I couldn’t afford it.” “Mom, stop talking.” “Let Mom finish. These past ten years, I dream of your dad every night. He asks me, ‘Where’s Chloe? Why isn’t Chloe in college?’ Mom can’t answer. I have no face to answer.” She sobbed uncontrollably: “Now that we finally have a chance, Mom wants to compensate you, wants you to have a better life, but you won’t even give Mom this chance.” I hugged my mom, and we cried together.

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My husband’s childhood friend has a contradictory personality. When chatting with friends about private topics, I blushed and mentioned that my husband has two moles on his inner thigh. She immediately jumped out to contradict me, personally pulling down his pants to prove there was only one. I angrily questioned her with red eyes, but Arthur Sterling just sneered mockingly: “Mia’s contradiction was right, otherwise I wouldn’t have known you don’t understand me at all.” For the sake of our young son, I chose to endure it. Until my son got food poisoning. I frantically tried to call 911. But Mia immediately started contradicting me again: “No, no, no, I think he should stay home and be observed for a while. It doesn’t look like poisoning.” Hearing this, Arthur furiously froze all my bank accounts. “Using the child to vie for attention, what kind of mother are you?” Watching my son foaming at the mouth in my arms, I finally compromised with Mrs. Sterling and dialed her number: “Send an ambulance right now, and from now on, I am no longer a daughter-in-law of the Sterling family.” … Mrs. Sterling didn’t even ask for a reason. She agreed immediately and sent over $500,000 as “divorce compensation.” Because ever since Mia formed the habit of contradicting me, I had long become the most unreliable person in the Sterling family. I joked that the meat inspection stamps wash off after a few washes. Mia actually stamped me with three red seals while I was sleeping to prove they wouldn’t wash off. I had a low libido after giving birth. She spread rumors everywhere that I was hooking up with three male college students in hotels, Photoshopped pictures, and uploaded them to the family group chat. I lost all face and truly couldn’t bear it anymore. To demand an explanation, I smashed our marital home to pieces. But Arthur looked at me like I was a clown, mocking me coldly: “Mia’s contradictions are well-founded. This only shows that you are flying into a rage out of humiliation!” I was left speechless but continued to endure for the sake of our child. Until I was cooking for my son and mentioned that raw green beans are toxic. To contradict me, Mia secretly fed them to him. Arthur praised her for being smart, unable to see our son’s purpling face or hear his weak breathing. This time, I gave up explaining, because I was truly tired. The ambulance arrived quickly. But before he could even be taken into the operating room, the doctor looked regretful: “He was brought in too late. The child has stopped breathing. My condolences.” Instantly, wails spilled from the corners of my mouth. Holding my son’s cold hand, my heart also chilled completely, inch by inch. The entire hospital corridor echoed with my mournful cries. Only after receiving our son’s death certificate did Arthur unfreeze my bank accounts like bestowing charity: “When you’re done making a scene, go buy the kid a few decent outfits. The day after tomorrow is Mom’s 60th birthday, don’t always…” I interrupted him hysterically: “Your son is already dead! He’s dead!” There was a pause on the other end of the line, immediately followed by Mia’s contradiction: “I don’t think so. The experts on TV said eating the wrong thing causes diarrhea at most. The little master isn’t that delicate, right? Sister Chloe should really surf the internet before lying…” With her single instigating remark, Arthur’s even more furious voice pierced my ears: “Always using our son to vie for attention, aren’t you afraid of bringing bad luck? Watch out, or I’ll give our son to Mia to raise!” With that, he hung up the phone with a snap. Clutching the certificate tightly, a dense pain spread across my chest once again. I attended my son’s cremation ceremony alone, bidding him farewell through the thick glass. Holding the light urn, I no longer had any attachments to the Sterling family. After signing the divorce agreement sent by Mrs. Sterling, I called that familiar yet strange man: “You promised you’d always save a place for me. Does that still count?” I disappeared for three days, handling my son’s funeral alone. The whole world knew he was dead, except for his father. Because the last time I was followed by a creep, I could only post on Moments to try and get more people to save me. As a result, Mia quickly posted a Moment contradicting me: “Impossible. It’s obviously just a little romantic game a spoiled wife plays to seduce her husband.” After seeing it, Arthur was very angry. He ignored me completely and completely blocked my Moments, nearly causing me to be assaulted by the creep. Now, I held no expectations whatsoever, only wanting to accompany my son one last time. Three days later, I returned home in a daze. As soon as I pushed the door open, Arthur uncharacteristically looked up at me and then handed over his phone. “How about this matching parent-child necklace?” My eyes suddenly lit up. This was the one I had circled in a magazine, but later forgot to buy because I was too busy. I didn’t expect him to care so much about me and our son. My heart was just feeling a bit moved. Unexpectedly, the next second, Mia stepped out looking pretty in my pink lace nightgown, throwing a throw pillow at the man. “Brother Arthur, you big meanie, don’t you dare try to take advantage of me!” “Trying to get me to call you ‘Daddy’ just by giving me a necklace? I won’t fall for your trick!” Arthur’s eyes were full of her playfulness, his face full of indulgence, “You little rascal, I just thought this necklace matches your nightgown.” I stood frozen to the side, seemingly like a clown intruding on their harmonious picture. I used to be at an age where I liked pink too. But Arthur always poured cold water on it: “You don’t look good in pink. Don’t wear it anymore.” So I pressed that beloved nightgown to the bottom of the wardrobe, never to see the light of day again. Now, worn on Mia, it seemed more fitting. Forcing down the pain surging in my chest, I made to turn and go upstairs, but saw a puppy walk by wagging its tail. Previously, my son had cried and fussed for three days, wanting to keep a puppy at home. I strongly supported his compassion. But it was met with Arthur’s cold words: “No. I’m allergic to dog hair. You should also consider my feelings.” Because of this, my son was depressed for several days. It turned out he wasn’t allergic to dogs; he was allergic to me and my son. Mia suddenly appeared behind me, smiling and blinking at me: “Brother Arthur and I adopted it together. He insisted I bring it over to show him. Sister doesn’t mind, right?” My heart ached heavily. I was just about to ignore her and leave. Unexpectedly, the next second, Mia suddenly grabbed the dog’s tail and tumbled down the stairs. “Ah! My puppy!” With a sprained ankle, she held the crushed puppy and cried uncontrollably: “If Sister Chloe can’t stand me, she can hit me or scold me. But the puppy is innocent…” Arthur pushed me away without a second thought. His first reaction was to check on the dog. My ankle bone struck the steps, instantly feeling as if it had shattered. The man, as if blind, roared at me hysterically: “Chloe Jones, you won’t even spare a dog? Get down here right now and apologize to Mia!” Looking at Mia’s clumsy acting, I really didn’t want to play along with them anymore. I turned around without showing any emotion. “From now on, absolutely no dogs are allowed in the house. Let’s see what you do when our son blames you!” “If you were even half as sensible as Mia, our son wouldn’t be educated by you to be so impolite, not even returning my calls!” A loud crash of something smashing came from behind. Amidst his furious roars, I didn’t stop limping upstairs. Looking at Arthur—who was allergic to dogs—personally burying it in the garden downstairs, my heart still ached fiercely. More so, I felt it was unworthy for my son, who cried for his father when he left. He couldn’t even use his life to get his father to take one more look at him. Returning to my room, I sorted my son’s belongings piece by piece and packed my luggage to leave. Just then, Arthur suddenly pushed the door open and walked in. “What are you doing packing our son’s things?” The man’s gaze fell on those toys, his nerves unconsciously tensing. “Because he…” I hesitated for a moment, then continued, “The teacher wants him to board at school for a while.” The truth on my lips was ultimately swallowed down. I didn’t want to use my son’s life to gain his sympathy. Nor did I need anyone’s pity. Besides, he wouldn’t believe it. Hearing this, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s fine too. We have to take Mia to the old estate tomorrow. We wouldn’t fit with an extra person.” My tongue felt numb. I couldn’t say a single word. Arthur’s sports car could seat two people, but Mia could always permanently occupy one seat. My son and I could only choose one or the other. It turned out his heart never had a designated place for us, mother and son. The next day, when Arthur took me to the old estate, Mrs. Sterling looked terrible. “Didn’t you say you were leaving immediately? Why are you here being an eyesore again?” Arthur froze upon hearing this, frowning in confusion: “Where is Chloe going—” Right then, a loud bang came from not far away. I saw a pile of misshapen fireworks being ignited. Mia held a lighter and looked over with a smile. “Happy 60th Birthday, Mrs. Sterling!” The old lady was coaxed into laughing heartily, and I was completely left aside. But the next second, the familiar box by Mia’s feet fiercely pierced my eyes. That was my son’s urn, which I had buried in the cemetery! My voice instantly tore out: “Mia Lin! What are you holding in your hand! Is it my son’s ashes?!” I simply couldn’t believe it. I rushed over, snatched the firework from her hand, and choked her neck fiercely. Scalding sparks fell on my arm, instantly raising several blisters. “Ah! Sister Chloe, what’s wrong with you? I just wanted to celebrate the old lady’s birthday. Brother Arthur, hurry and save me!” In a panic, Arthur picked up the box on the ground and smashed it against my forehead. My eyes were instantly blinded by blood. “Chloe Jones, what crazy fit are you throwing? Who gave you the audacity to hit Mia in front of Mom!” The old lady clutched her heart in anger: “Mia specially prepared a firework show for my 60th birthday. What right does an outsider like you have to blame her!” I couldn’t hear their accusations. I picked up the remaining ashes from the ground bit by bit. “Someone come! Serve her with the whip!” the old lady ordered angrily. I looked up in shock. I saw bodyguards gripping whips, advancing towards me step by step. I looked at the cold man in front of me in disbelief. “Arthur Sterling, I am your wife!” I struggled desperately, but those men pinned me to the ground one after another. Arthur’s heartless voice drifted over lightly: “Since you are a daughter-in-law of the Sterling family, you must abide by the family rules. You are no exception!” The next second, the whip in the bodyguard’s hand slashed over fiercely. “Ah!” My piercing wail echoed throughout the courtyard. But Arthur shielded Mia behind him, raising his hand to cover her eyes: “Close your eyes, don’t be frightened.” The whip struck my body, each hit heavier than the last. Splattering blood foam fell before my eyes. My entire back felt the piercing pain of burning fire. Seeing me paralyzed on the ground like a broken rag doll, Arthur couldn’t help but frown. Until the bodyguard stopped and asked: “Mr. Sterling, that’s enough for 100 lashes. Should I continue?” “Enough! Send her to the hospital immediately.” Before my broken body was lifted, Arthur draped his coat over my mangled back. However, it was precisely this action that added a bit of hatred to the originally smug Mia’s eyes. Sneaking home from the hospital, I endured the pain and grabbed my luggage. Two beeps sounded outside the door; I knew he had come to pick me up and leave! I was limping outwards when suddenly a massive force kicked me viciously back into the room. Struggling to open my eyes, I found it was actually Mia. “Chloe Jones, you were served by the family rules until you look like a monster, and you still have the mood to go on a trip?” “Oh right, how come you aren’t taking your precious son with you on your trip?” Seeing my blood-red eyes, the woman became more and more smug as she spoke: “Oh I forgot, he, is, already, dead!” As she finished, I couldn’t bear it anymore. I rushed up and grabbed her hair, my eyes burning red: “You shut up! Aren’t you afraid of retribution for intentionally killing my son?!” The woman wasn’t angry but laughed. Following close behind, several servants came in and poured gasoline into every corner of the room. “I just wanted to intentionally get rid of you mother and son. This way, Brother Arthur can fulfill his childhood promise and marry me into the family.” “But you won’t have the chance to complain, because I’m going to send you down to reunite with your son right now!” As soon as her words fell, she instantly flicked a lighter and set the room on fire. The tongues of fire quickly swept over. The already stinging wounds sizzled as they were burned. When Arthur rushed over upon hearing the news, I grabbed onto him like a lifeline, desperately calling for help. “Arthur, I’m here, save me…” But I didn’t expect Mia to escape first, lock the door, and block him. “Help me, Brother Arthur!” “Sister Chloe had people set a fire to burn me to death in the house. She already escaped a long time ago. Save me quickly, boohoohoo…” Immediately after, I only heard the man’s curses from outside the door: “How did she become so vicious? Burning her to death wouldn’t be too much!” With that, he picked up Mia and left swiftly. The flaming wardrobe crashed heavily onto my back, and my last shred of hope shattered with it. When Arthur returned, he scoured the entire villa but couldn’t find a trace of me. His heart sank. He quickly called the kindergarten: “Have you seen my wife? Did she pick up our child?” “The little boy hasn’t come to class for several days,” the teacher answered, puzzled. Arthur was just about to ask further when, the next moment, a death certificate suddenly appeared on his phone… Arthur magnified the death certificate infinitely. Written starkly on it was his son’s name. “This… how is this possible? It must be a prank!” He suddenly thought of Chloe publicly setting a fire to burn Mia to death, and suspicion arose. Maybe this was another one of Chloe’s tricks to vie for attention. But he still felt uneasy and sent the certificate to his assistant. “Check this for me immediately. Is it a forgery or not?” Then, he angrily called Chloe. Just as a reprimand was about to leave his mouth, he realized he was met with a robotic female voice. 【The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later…】 He called his child again, but the result was the same. “What on earth are those two, mother and son, plotting? This is absolutely outrageous!” Putting away his phone, he intended to leave the mother and son hanging for a few days and properly compensate the burned Mia. Hearing the news, Mrs. Sterling rushed to the hospital, gnashing her teeth in anger. “I said Chloe was unreliable. I didn’t expect her to do such a heinous thing. I will absolutely not forgive her!” Lying in bed, Mia looked the picture of innocence: “It’s okay. Sister Chloe must have just been acting on impulse. I won’t blame her.” “You’re just too kind.” Arthur comforted her distractedly. Right then, he discovered a divorce agreement in the old lady’s bag. “Mom, what is this?” The old lady looked a bit uncomfortable, trying to word how to explain it to him. At this moment, the doctor rushed into the room. “Mr. Sterling, I’m sorry. The ashes Ms. Chloe Jones entrusted us to keep are missing. I can’t reach her on the phone. How do you want to handle this?” Arthur frowned deeply, extremely puzzled: “What ashes? What exactly is going on?” The doctor was bewildered and explained in more detail: “The young master was brought to the hospital a few days ago and passed away from food poisoning. Did Mr. Sterling not know this?” Hearing this, Arthur nearly slumped to the floor. It took him a long time to find his voice. “What… what did you say? My son passed away?” It turned out Chloe had never lied from beginning to end. A few days ago, when Chloe cried and tearfully complained “our son is dead,” it was also true. Arthur stood up indignantly and grabbed the doctor’s collar: “Why didn’t you call to inform me in time? And how could his ashes go missing?” Mrs. Sterling beside them was also completely dumbfounded, painfully clutching her heart: “Chloe, that useless woman. She can’t even look after a child. What else can she do?!” The old lady almost cried until she fainted. The doctor quickly explained: “The child passed away due to food poisoning. He consumed a large amount of raw green beans. But Ms. Jones already called to inform you at the time. She sounded completely devastated.” “Please accept my condolences.” With that, the doctor turned and left.

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Late at night, I was scrolling through my feed when I saw the news of Arthur’s wedding. With trembling hands, I posted a status update. “Why can’t people who love each other be together? Woo woo woo, I just want to die.” After posting, I blocked Arthur and all his friends. But I forgot to block my family. Soon, my phone was buzzing like crazy. I opened the comments, and my family’s replies completely broke me. 1 At 11 PM, I was lying in bed scrolling through my feed, my thumb swiping up mechanically. And then I saw that photo. Arthur Sterling and Emily Chen’s wedding photo. They were both wearing white dress shirts, standing in front of the city hall, smiling so radiantly. Emily had her head resting on Arthur’s shoulder, and Arthur had his arm around her waist, holding their marriage certificate. The caption read: “Finally waited for you, the rest of my life is all you.” My finger froze in mid-air, my whole body seemingly hitting the pause button. A sharp pain shot through my heart, hurting so much I couldn’t breathe. I opened my mouth wide to gasp for air, tears falling without warning. We had only been broken up for six months. Six months, and he had already gotten his marriage license with someone else. Back then, he said he needed to focus on his career, that he didn’t have the means to get married, that we should wait a little longer. I waited for five years. For five years, I lived frugally, helping him take care of his sick parents and paying for his younger brother’s college tuition. For five years, I stayed by his side as he went from an intern to a department manager. For five years, I never bought a decent piece of clothing or went to a nice restaurant. He said that when he was capable, he would definitely give me the best wedding. And the result? He gave it to someone else. I stared at that photo for a long time, so long my eyes ached. Then I opened the status update box, my fingers trembling as I typed: “Why can’t people who love each other be together? Woo woo woo, I just want to die.” Before hitting send, I specifically blocked Arthur and all his friends. And Emily Chen. I didn’t want them to see me in this pathetic state. 2 Less than a minute after posting, my phone started buzzing uncontrollably. I clicked it open; it was replies from my family. My Dad: “Why don’t you go drive their wedding car? You know that route better than anyone.” My Mom: “Go make their bed, isn’t that the bed you loved sleeping in the most?” My Aunt (Dad’s sister): “Why don’t you go toast the guests? Don’t his relatives and friends like you the best?” My Aunt (Mom’s sister): “Go be a bridesmaid, you know the answers to all the questions the bride won’t know.” My other Aunt: “Why don’t you go hand out the wedding favors? Weren’t you the sweetest thing in front of him?” My eldest Aunt: “Why don’t you go help him hold the baby? Didn’t you want to have his kids?” My Uncle: “Go cook the banquet food, didn’t you love cooking for him the most?” Looking at these replies, my tears completely broke loose. Every word they said was like a needle piercing my heart. Yes, I knew that route best. When Arthur first started in sales, I accompanied him every day, running through every street and alley of this city. He said I was better than GPS. That bed, I did love sleeping in it the most. The first apartment Arthur rented had a mattress hard as a rock, but I still loved curling up on it because it was our little home. His relatives and friends really did like me. Every gathering, his aunt would always hold my hand and say, “Chloe, when are you and Arthur getting married? Auntie is waiting to drink at your wedding.” I knew everything about him. He loved spicy food but couldn’t handle it too spicy; he hated cilantro; his birthday was March 7th; his dad had high blood pressure and needed to take medication every day. I really was sweet in front of him. Sweet without a bottom line, so sweet I believed anything he said. I did want to have his kids. I had even thought of the names: Leo for a boy, and Mia for a girl. I cooked for him. Three meals a day, for five years straight. He had a weak stomach, so I got up early every day to make him millet porridge. But in the end? In the end, he married someone else. In the end, he held someone else’s hand and walked into city hall. In the end, he told someone else, “The rest of my life is all you.” I held my phone, trembling all over from crying. Tears blurred the screen, and the replies kept popping up one by one. My Aunt (Uncle’s wife): “Chloe, come home, Auntie will make you chicken soup.” My Cousin (older brother): “Sis, I’m taking tomorrow off to take you to a steakhouse, the most expensive one.” My Cousin (older sister): “Silly girl, a guy like that isn’t worth it. I’ll introduce you to someone way better.” Looking at these messages, I cried even harder. They all felt sorry for me. They knew how I had spent the last five years. They knew how stupid I had been. 3 My phone rang again; it was my Mom calling. I wiped my tears and answered it. “Mom.” “Chloe,” My Mom’s voice was very soft. “We saw your post. Don’t take it to heart, we were just so angry we said some harsh things.” “I know,” I said, choking back tears. “Know what?” My Dad roared from the other end of the line: “That guy is a piece of garbage. What did I say back then? I said all he cares about is money and climbing the ladder. You didn’t believe me, do you believe me now?” “Dad, please stop yelling.” “I will yell.” My Dad’s voice got louder: “My daughter suffered such a huge injustice, and I can’t even yell? That bastard Arthur, I was truly blind to ever agree to let you two be together.” “Alright, alright, don’t yell at the kid.” My Mom grabbed the phone back: “Chloe, come home. Come stay at home for a few days.” “Mom, I have to go to work tomorrow.” “What work! Call in sick.” My Dad snatched the phone again: “Come home, Dad will support you. We don’t have to take this crap.” Listening to them argue on the other end, my heart felt sour but warm. Sour because my last five years really were like a joke. Warm because no matter how silly, stupid, or disappointing I was, my family would always be on my side. “Dad, Mom, I’m fine.” I sniffled: “I’m really fine, just… just a little sad.” “If you’re sad, come home. Mom will make your favorite sweet and sour ribs.” “Yeah! Come home!” My Dad shouted: “Dad will take you out for a fancy meal, we’ll celebrate. Celebrate you escaping that sea of bitterness.” I laughed, laughing until I cried again. After hanging up, I looked at Arthur’s post one more time. In the photo, Emily Chen was smiling so sweetly. I couldn’t clearly see Arthur’s expression, but I knew he must be very happy now. After all, Emily Chen could give him what I couldn’t. Emily Chen could save him twenty years of hard work. While I could only endure hardships with him. I put down my phone and pulled the covers over my head. That night, I cried until dawn. 4 Arthur and I got together in our junior year of college. He was a prominent figure in our department: handsome, had good grades, and was the student council president. I was a girl as ordinary as could be: average grades, and my looks weren’t particularly stunning. I don’t even know what he saw in me. He said I was grounded, that I was kind, that being with me felt comfortable. I believed him. The year we graduated, something happened in his family. His dad was diagnosed with liver cancer, his mom was hospitalized with high blood pressure, and his younger brother was still in high school. His family’s savings were wiped out instantly, and they were deeply in debt. My parents were dead set against us being together. My Dad said: “Chloe, if you stay with him, you’ll suffer.” My Mom said: “Honey, Mom isn’t being a snob, I just can’t bear to see you suffer.” I didn’t listen. I thought love could conquer all. I got into a massive fight with my family, dragged my suitcase, and moved into the basement apartment Arthur rented. That basement was only about a hundred square feet, with no windows, requiring the lights to be on even during the day. In the summer, it was hot as an oven; in the winter, it was cold as an icebox. But I was very happy. Because Arthur said: “Chloe, when I make money, I’ll definitely buy you a big house.” I believed him. To save money, I only ate two meals a day. To make more money, I worked three jobs simultaneously. I worked at my company during the day, worked part-time at a convenience store at night, and tutored on weekends. Arthur worked hard too, working late into the night every day. We were like two spinning tops, constantly spinning. But every night, squeezed onto that tiny bed, he would hold me and say: “Chloe, thank you. When things get better, I’ll definitely treat you doubly well.” Then I felt everything was worth it. The first year, his dad’s condition stabilized, but the medical bills were several thousand dollars a month. The second year, his younger brother got into college, and we paid for his tuition and living expenses. The third year, he finally got promoted to manager, and his salary doubled. I thought the bitter days were finally over. But at the end of the fourth year, he met Emily Chen. 5 Emily Chen was his boss’s daughter. She had just returned from studying abroad and was parachuted into his department as a director. The first time I heard Arthur mention her was during a late night at work. He surprisingly called me on his own initiative, his tone laced with excitement: “Chloe, Director Chen took our department out to dinner today, we went to a Michelin-starred restaurant.” Me: “Really? That’s great.” Him: “Director Chen is so nice, completely unpretentious, and she said she wants to focus on developing me.” Me: “Then you should work hard.” After hanging up, I felt a little uncomfortable. But I didn’t dare say anything. I was afraid he would call me paranoid. Later, Emily Chen appeared more and more frequently. Arthur’s phone started having messages from her. Arthur’s clothes started smelling like her perfume. The hours Arthur worked overtime got longer and longer. I asked once: “You’re getting pretty close to Director Chen.” He said: “She’s the boss, I have to suck up to her a little. Chloe, you have to understand me. Isn’t my working so hard all for our future?” I believed him again. At the beginning of the fifth year, Arthur celebrated my birthday. He bought a small cake, stuck candles in it, and told me to make a wish. My wish was: “I hope we get married soon.” He was silent for a long time, then said: “Chloe, wait a little longer. Wait until I’m a bit more stable.” Me: “Okay.” That night, he got a call. It was from Emily Chen. He said there was an emergency at the company and he had to go back to work. I ate that cake all by myself. In March of our fifth year, Arthur suddenly moved out of our rented apartment. Him: “Chloe, I got promoted. The company gave me an apartment.” Me: “What about me?” Him: “You stay here for now. Once I’m settled, I’ll come get you.” I believed him again. The day he moved out, I helped him pack his bags. He looked at me, his eyes a little red: “Chloe, I’m sorry for making you wait so long.” Me: “It’s okay, I’ll wait for you.” He hugged me, turned around, and left. 6 I only found out later that the apartment was Emily Chen’s. Emily Chen let him move in. After Arthur moved out, we saw each other less and less. He always said he was busy, rushing a project, accompanying a client. When I called him, he often didn’t pick up. When I messaged him, he took a long time to reply. I panicked. I went to his company to find him. The receptionist wouldn’t let me in. I said I was looking for Arthur Sterling. “Manager Sterling is in a meeting. Do you have an appointment?” I said no. “Then you can’t go up.” I waited in the lobby all afternoon. At 6 PM, Arthur came out. Not alone, but with Emily Chen. Emily Chen was holding his arm, and the two were laughing and talking. Seeing me, Arthur’s expression changed. He pulled his arm away and walked over quickly: “Chloe, why are you here?” I looked at Emily Chen, and she was looking at me too, with a provocative look in her eyes. “I came to find you.” “I’m busy.” Arthur lowered his voice: “You go back first. I’ll come find you tonight.” “Can’t we talk now?” “It’s not convenient.” Emily Chen walked over, looked me up and down, then said to Arthur: “Arthur, who is this?” Arthur looked a bit embarrassed: “This is my friend, Chloe Miller.” Friend. Five years of relationship, exchanged for the word “friend.” I laughed: “Arthur, I’m your friend?” “Chloe…” Arthur frowned: “Don’t make a scene.” “I’m making a scene?” I looked at Emily Chen: “Director Chen, right? Do you know who I am?” Emily Chen smiled gracefully: “I know, Arthur’s ex-girlfriend. He said you guys broke up a long time ago.” I looked at Arthur: “We broke up?” Arthur didn’t dare look me in the eye. Emily Chen continued: “Ms. Miller, since you’re broken up, stop harassing him. Arthur is my boyfriend now. You’re causing him trouble by doing this.” Boyfriend. That word was like a knife stabbing into my heart. I looked at Arthur: “Is what she saying true?” Arthur remained silent. Silence is consent. “Arthur, say something,” I yelled. People in the lobby were staring at us. Arthur’s face turned red. He grabbed my hand: “Chloe, let’s go outside to talk.” “We’ll talk right here!” I shook him off: “Tell me clearly, did we break up? Did I agree?” “Can you stop making a scene!” Arthur also raised his voice: “This is my company. If you have no shame, I still do.” I have no shame. He said I have no shame. Looking at him, I suddenly felt he was very unfamiliar. Was this still the person who said he would treat me well for the rest of my life? Or the one who called me kind and grounded? Emily Chen tugged at Arthur’s arm: “Arthur, stop arguing with her. Let’s go, we still have dinner with Mr. Zhang tonight.” Arthur glanced at me, his eyes filled with complex emotions. Then he said: “Chloe, you go back first. I’ll call you tonight.” With that, he turned and walked away. Emily Chen followed behind him, looking back at me with a smirk on her lips. I stood rooted to the spot, watching their figures disappear through the lobby doors. A chill ran through my entire body.

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“I’m pregnant.” I smiled and handed the pregnancy test to Mia for her to see. She took it and looked down at it. Silence. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. She looked up, her expression very strange. “Is the baby your husband’s?” I froze. “What do you mean?” She looked at me, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Nothing.” But I saw it. That trace of… Panic in her eyes. 1. Mia is my best friend. From high school to now, twelve years. When I got married, she was my bridesmaid. When I bought a house, she looked at over twenty properties with me. Whenever I fought with Arthur, she always took my side. “Men are all trash.” That was her catchphrase. She said she didn’t want to get married; she was fine on her own. Three years ago, she got pregnant. “Whose is it?” I asked her. She said it was a married man, they couldn’t go public. “Then what are you going to do?” “Have it.” She said it very calmly. “I’ll raise it alone.” My heart ached for her. During that time, her morning sickness was terrible. I went over after work every day to take care of her. When she gave birth, I was the one waiting outside the delivery room. When the baby turned one month old, I helped organize the celebration. She said money was tight. I lent her a total of eighty thousand dollars over time. She said it was fine. She’d pay me back slowly. It’s been three years. Not a cent has been paid back. I never pressed her. We’re best friends, after all. I always thought that way. Until today. Until she asked that question. “Is the baby your husband’s?” Sitting in the car, I repeatedly recalled her expression. That three-second silence. That trace of panic. And that inexplicable question. Why ask, “Is the baby your husband’s?” Shouldn’t a normal person say, “Congratulations”? I picked up my phone and scrolled through my chat history with Arthur. Very normal. Reporting his itinerary every day, “working overtime” two or three times a week. Working overtime. I suddenly remembered. Over the past three years, the number of times he worked overtime seemed to have increased. It used to be once or twice a month. Now it’s two or three times a week. I scrolled through his social media feed again. Very normal. Work, gym, the occasional selfie. No abnormalities whatsoever. But— I opened the app and found Mia’s feed. Three years ago, she started posting photos of her baby frequently. “Baby’s first smile.” “Baby’s first time calling Mom.” “Baby is three today!” I looked through them one by one. Suddenly, I stopped. There was a photo. The baby sitting on a man’s lap. The photo only captured the man’s lower half. Slacks. A belt. That belt. The birthday present I gave Arthur. 2. I stared at that photo for a long time. Maybe it was a coincidence. That specific belt was a few hundred dollars online, a lot of people bought it. Maybe it was just a coincidence. I put down my phone. Arthur said he was working overtime tonight, probably wouldn’t be back until ten. I waited for him. At nine-thirty, the door opened. When he walked in, I was sitting on the sofa. “You’re back?” “Yeah,” he said, changing his shoes. “Overtime today killed me.” “Want some water?” “Sure.” I went to pour water, taking a casual glance at his phone. He had placed his phone face down on the coffee table. Screen facing down. He never used to do that. “Honey.” “Hm?” “Where’s that belt? The one I gave you.” His movements paused for a second. “Which one?” “The Hermes one. The one I got you for your birthday last year.” “Oh, that one,” he took a sip of water. “It’s at the office. I switch them out sometimes.” “I haven’t seen you wear it lately.” “The style is a bit outdated.” He said it very naturally. Too naturally. Like he had rehearsed it. That night, I couldn’t sleep. At 2 AM, I looked at Arthur sleeping soundly beside me. I picked up his phone. I knew the passcode. His birthday. I opened his messaging app. Contacts. No Mia. I opened his text messages. Nothing. Call history. Nothing. Too clean. Abnormally clean. I opened his banking app. Transfer history. My heart started racing. March 2023, transfer: $5,000. April 2023, transfer: $8,000. May 2023, transfer: $5,000. Payee: Mia M. Mia’s last name was Miller. I kept scrolling down. Every single month. As little as three thousand, as much as twenty thousand. I scrolled to the earliest transaction. June 2021. Three years ago. The month Mia got pregnant. I calculated the total. Six hundred and eighty thousand. My hands were shaking. Six hundred and eighty thousand. I lent her eighty thousand and was always too embarrassed to ask for it back. My husband transferred her six hundred and eighty thousand. Six hundred and eighty thousand. I gently put the phone down and lay back in bed. The man beside me was breathing evenly, sleeping very deeply. I kept my eyes open until dawn. 3. The next day, I called in sick. I had to find out the truth. I went to the apartment complex where Mia lived. She lived on the Eastside, in an older complex; she said she was renting. At least, that’s what she said. I stood at the entrance of the complex and waited for two hours. At 10 AM, Mia came out. She was holding her baby’s hand. The baby was three years old, growing fast. I watched them from a distance. Mia made a phone call, looking very happy. I couldn’t hear what she was saying. But I saw her smile. A very sweet smile. They walked into the mall across the street. I didn’t follow them. I walked into the apartment complex. Found the property management office. “Hello, I’d like to check the property information for an apartment in this complex.” The property manager looked at me. “Who are you?” “I’m looking to buy a house. Someone recommended this complex.” I gave them Mia’s apartment number. The manager checked the computer. “This unit isn’t for sale. It’s owner-occupied.” “Who is the owner?” “It’s not convenient to disclose that.” I smiled and pulled two hundred dollars out of my purse. “I just want to confirm if it’s someone I know.” The manager looked at the money and lowered his voice. “Arthur Vance. Bought it three years ago, all cash.” All cash. Three years ago. The year Mia got pregnant. I walked out of the management office, my legs feeling a bit weak. Arthur bought a house for Mia to live in. All cash. I didn’t know how much. But I had checked the housing prices in this complex. At least two million. A two-million-dollar house. Six hundred and eighty thousand in transfers. And that child. I stood at the entrance of the complex, watching the people coming and going. Suddenly, I really wanted to laugh. Mia said she was renting. Mia said money was tight. Mia said it was so hard being alone. I lent her eighty thousand. Helped her take care of the kid. Helped her organize the one-month celebration. Helped her find a maternity nurse. I thought I was a good best friend. Turns out I was an idiot. 4. I had to see it with my own eyes. Not because I didn’t believe the evidence. But because— I needed to see what they looked like behind my back. It was a Friday. Arthur said he had a business dinner and wouldn’t be home for dinner. I said okay. At 6 PM, I drove and followed his car. He didn’t go to any dinner. He went to the Eastside. To Mia’s complex. I parked my car across from the complex. Watched him park his car, grab a bag, and enter the building. Twenty minutes later, a light turned on in a window. I stared at that window. At 7:30, a small figure pressed against the window. The baby. What was he waiting for? At 8:00, I saw a man walk to the window and pick the baby up. It was Arthur. He lifted the baby high, and the baby laughed. I couldn’t see what they were saying. But I saw Mia walk over too. She leaned against Arthur. The three of them stood in front of the window. Like a family. Like a normal, happy family of three. I sat in the car, staring at that window for a long time. I didn’t even notice when the tears started falling. I didn’t charge up there. I didn’t knock on the door. I just sat in the car until the early hours of the morning. Arthur came out at 11 PM. He got in his car and drove off. I knew he was going home. Back to our home. To lie down next to me. And then tell me, “Drank too much at the dinner.” At midnight, I got home. Arthur was already asleep. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at the man on the bed. Married for five years. I thought we were very happy. I thought he just occasionally worked overtime. I thought my best friend just had bad luck. Turns out— I knew absolutely nothing. 5. I started pretending I didn’t know anything. Working during the day, cooking at night, shopping with Arthur on weekends. He couldn’t see anything unusual. Because my acting was stellar. I spent a week gathering evidence. Transfer records: $680,000. Property info: In Arthur’s name, occupied by Mia. Photos: Over a dozen photos of Arthur and the baby, scraped from Mia’s social media. Chat logs: I found his secondary messaging account. He had two accounts on his phone. One that I knew about. The other had only one person in its contacts. The alias was “Wife.” It was Mia. I clicked open the chat history. “Hubby, the baby called me Daddy today.” “I’ll come over tonight.” “Miss you so much.” “Me too.” I scrolled down, message by message. All the way back to three years ago. “I’m pregnant.” “Have it. I’ll take care of you both.” “But you’re already married…” “I’ll get a divorce. When the time is right.” When the time is right. Three years. I waited for his “time is right.” I kept scrolling. Down to last month. “Hubby, what do we do if she’s pregnant?” “Ignore it for now. Let me think.” “You don’t actually want that kid, do you?” “I only want you and the baby.” I stared at those chat logs. He only wanted her and the baby. The child in my belly, he was going to “ignore it for now.” I touched my stomach. It wasn’t showing yet. The doctor said eight weeks. A little life. I thought it was a surprise. I thought Arthur would be thrilled. Turns out— My child, in his heart, was just a “nuisance.” I took screenshots of the chat logs, sent them to myself, and then deleted the sending history. I put his phone down. He was still sleeping. Sleeping very deeply. I looked at his face and suddenly felt he was a complete stranger. Married for five years. Turns out I never truly knew this person. 6. I met with a lawyer. “Mrs. Vance, I need to understand your situation.” “My husband cheated and has a child out of wedlock.” I handed him the evidence. Transfer records. Property info. Chat screenshots. Photos. The lawyer flipped through it all, his expression grave. “The evidence is very solid.” “I want a divorce.” “No problem,” the lawyer nodded. “Based on this evidence, you can claim severe fault on his part and fight for a larger share of the assets.” “I don’t want a larger share.” I looked at him. “I want him to leave with absolutely nothing.” The lawyer paused. “That… will be difficult.” “The house was bought before marriage; I paid the down payment, and he pays the mortgage. I can claim the appreciated value of the mortgage payments. The car was bought after marriage, that can be split. As for the savings, I have records of him transferring $680,000 to that woman over the past three years. I want him to pay that money back to me.” I listed them one by one. “Furthermore, he used marital assets to buy a house for the other woman, over two million in cash. I want that recovered.” The lawyer looked at me for a moment. “Mrs. Vance, you’ve done your homework.” “I have plenty of time.” I smiled. “He cheated for three years, I have three years of evidence.” The lawyer nodded. “I understand. I will help you prepare the materials.” “One more thing.” I looked at him. “That woman also has a husband.” The lawyer looked up. “Her husband doesn’t know about this.” I paused. “I want him to know.” The lawyer remained silent for a moment. “This is your personal matter, it’s not appropriate for me to interfere. But legally, you have the right to inform him.” “Good.” I stood up. “I’ll have the materials ready. Next week, I’m going to sit down and talk with them.” “How do you plan to do that?” “In front of both sets of parents.” I looked out the window. “I want everyone to know what they did.” 7. I called my in-laws. “Mom, come over for dinner this weekend, I have something to say.” “What is it?” “Good news.” I also called my parents. “Dad, come over this weekend, I have something to tell you.” “What is it?” “You’ll know when you get here.” Friday night, Arthur came home very early. “Wife, Mom and Dad are coming this weekend, what are you planning to cook?” “What do you want to eat?” “Anything. Whatever you make is delicious.” He smiled and put his arm around me. I didn’t dodge. “Hubby.” “Hm?” “Do you love me?” He froze for a second, then smiled. “Of course I do.” “What about Mia?” His smile stiffened. “What?” “Mia. My best friend. The baby’s mother.” I looked at him. “Do you love her?” His face changed. “What… what do you mean?” “That messaging account with the alias ‘Wife’, I saw it.” He took a step back. “You went through my phone?” “Six hundred and eighty thousand in transfers. That house on the Eastside. The baby calling you Daddy.” I enunciated every word. “Are you still going to pretend?” He opened his mouth. But nothing came out. “Mom and Dad are coming this weekend.” I smiled. “Let’s all have a chat.” His face went white. “What are you going to do?” “What am I going to do?” I looked at him. “I’m going to let everyone know that you and my best friend have been raising an illegitimate child behind my back for three years.”

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Everyone in high society knows I’m just a dog kept by the Sterling family. The true heiress of the Sterling family is my twin sister, Mia. She is the apple of everyone’s eye. While I am merely the fake brought out to take the blame whenever she makes a mistake. Only my uncle, Arthur Sterling, would secretly bring me pastries when I was punished to kneel in the ancestral hall. “Chloe, bear with it a little longer. Once Uncle takes control of the Sterling family, I’ll take you away.” For this, Mia despised me to the core, finding every way to torment me, all of which Arthur quietly deflected. Until Arthur finally defeated my father and became the new head of the Sterling family. I thought my suffering was finally over, but when I pushed open his bedroom door, I saw him and Mia passionately entangled in bed. “If your dear niece knew that you went to such great lengths to ruin the Sterling family just so she’d have no way out and become your dog, would she go crazy?” In an instant, I felt like I had plunged into an abyss. Faced with my devastated questioning, Arthur didn’t even bat an eyelid. “Since you know everything, I won’t bother pretending anymore.” “This is the Sterling family’s underground fighting ring. If you want freedom, win against all the opponents I arrange for you and walk out of there alive.” … My entire body stiffened; I thought I was dreaming. “What, you don’t believe it?” He chuckled lightly. “Did you really think I stopped Mia because my heart ached for you?” “I just didn’t want my toy to be broken by someone else before I got to play with it.” Mia also poked her head out from the room at that moment. “Sister, did you really think Uncle loved you?” She walked up to me. “The only person he has ever loved is me.” “As for you, you’re just a replacement who looks like me. Not even a replacement, really, just a dog that needs to be trained.” “Looking at your eyes, you want to kill us, don’t you? The more you hate, the more excited I get.” I stared dead at Arthur, my voice unbelievably hoarse. “Why… you weren’t like this before!” “There is no why,” Arthur walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of wine. “From the day your father picked me up, I was just a tool for him to climb higher. Now, I’m taking back what’s mine. Is there a problem?” “And you, Chloe Sterling, are just a part of my spoils of war.” “Think it’s unfair? There is no fairness in this world.” “You’ve enjoyed the title of the eldest Miss Sterling for twenty years. Now, it’s time for you to pay the price.” Too lazy to say more, he waved his hand impatiently, and two men in black suits appeared behind me. “Take her to the fighting ring, let her learn the rules.” Before I could even react, one of them grabbed my hair and roughly dragged me out. A tearing, agonizing pain radiated from my scalp. As we passed Mia, she leaned close to my ear and whispered: “Sister, guess who the first fighter will be?” “It’s that bodyguard whose leg Uncle broke just because he took an extra look at you.” “He… must be missing you like crazy right now.” Arthur’s voice came from behind. “To make it more interesting, all your opponents will be men.” “Chloe, don’t disappoint me.” He added a hint of playfulness, “At least, try to live a bit longer.” I was dragged into the elevator; the feeling of weightlessness made my stomach churn. Ding— The elevator doors opened, and the frantic, roaring sound engulfed me instantly. I was roughly pushed out, stumbled a few steps, and bumped into a man’s back. The man saw me, froze for a second, and then let out an obscene whistle: “Yo, Mr. Sterling’s new toy? So tender, it’d be a pity to beat her to death right away.” The people around immediately erupted in laughter. Looking at these crazed faces, I laughed, laughing at myself for ever having illusions about Arthur. I was thrown into a spartan room. A bodyguard threw a set of black lace lingerie at my feet. “Mr. Sterling’s orders. Put it on.” The fabric was pathetically sparse; it couldn’t even cover my body. “What if… I don’t?” The bodyguard sneered and lit up his phone screen. On it was a photo of my grandmother in her nursing home. “Mr. Sterling said, if you don’t behave, your grandmother might have a sudden heart attack in the nursing home at any time.” The last trace of color drained from my face. Without another word of nonsense, I took that ridiculous lingerie and, under the bodyguard’s explicit, greedy gaze, took off my clothes piece by piece. I straightened my back, allowing those gazes to flay me. The corridor leading to the fighting ring was lined with people. The moment I appeared, whistles and filthy teasing were incessant. “Is this tonight’s appetizer? Mr. Sterling is really getting more and more creative.” “Fighting in that? I bet she won’t last ten seconds!” “Ten seconds? I bet she pees her pants the moment she gets in the ring!” Step by step, I walked towards the iron cage spotlighted in the center. Arthur was sitting in the VIP seats directly facing the cage door. Mia was wrapped around him, smiling and saying something to him. Seeing me, Mia’s smile grew even more triumphant. She raised her glass to me and mouthed silently: “Good luck.” The referee stopped me and loudly announced the rules tailor-made for me. “First, for the sake of fairness, Miss Sterling cannot use any weapons.” The crowd erupted in a burst of laughter. A woman without the strength to tie a chicken, wearing lingerie, and they were actually saying it was for “fairness” that she couldn’t use weapons. “Second, to increase entertainment value, Miss Sterling is not allowed to retreat more than three steps during the match; otherwise, it’s an automatic loss.” This meant I could only take hits head-on, unable to dodge. “Third, and most importantly,” the referee drew out his voice, “after each round, the audience will vote to decide a special program to be completed jointly by Miss Sterling and the victor.” What the so-called “special program” was, went without saying. The cheers almost blew the roof off. Arthur’s gaze landed on me. He wanted to see me break down, see me kneel and beg for mercy. “What if I win?” The referee froze, seemingly never having considered this question. Arthur, however, twitched the corner of his mouth. “You win? That would be even more interesting.” “Win all the matches, and you can walk out of here alive.” He paused, “And, you can do whatever you want to your final opponent.” “Including killing him.” As he said this, his eyes stayed fixed on me, as if hinting at something. Mia giggled in his arms. “Uncle, you think too highly of her. She can barely stand steady.” Before she finished speaking, I mimicked the posture of a fighter, striking a clumsy combat stance. My ridiculous lingerie, coupled with this comical movement, instantly ignited roaring laughter from the entire audience. “Hahahaha! What does she think she’s doing? Dancing Swan Lake?” “Oh my god, I’m dying of laughter. Where did Mr. Sterling find this clown?” The smile on Arthur’s face deepened; it was the pleasure of watching a clown perform. Only a friend beside him frowned and whispered: “Arthur, isn’t this a bit too far? She is your niece after all.” Arthur’s eyes instantly turned cold: “Shut up! I have no niece here, only my plaything.” The moment the words fell, memories of his past with me flashed through his mind. He picked up his wine glass, using the alcohol to suppress that fleeting fluctuation. I slowly lowered my hands and, facing Arthur in the VIP box, clearly enunciated two words: “I accept.” The opponent for the first round was indeed the bodyguard Mia had mentioned, Carter. He limped onto the stage, the look in his eyes towards me full of sick excitement. “Eldest Miss Sterling, long time no see. Didn’t expect to meet in a place like this, did you?” He sneered, rolling his wrists. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die too quickly.” “I’ll break your bones inch by inch, let you taste what I went through back then.” At the referee’s command, Carter lunged at me fiercely. I instinctively retreated, and the referee’s voice rang out, reminding me of that ridiculous “no retreating more than three steps” rule. I forced myself to stop, meeting his massive fist. Bang! A heavy punch landed squarely on my abdomen. The intense pain instantly made my body arc, acid rushing straight up my throat. He didn’t give me any chance to breathe, grabbing my hair and smashing my face fiercely against the chain-link fence. “Scream! Why aren’t you screaming? Weren’t you so high and mighty before!” The rough wire scraped my cheek, leaving streaks of blood. The roars and whistles of the crowd grew even more frenzied. “Useless thing, can’t even dodge.” Mia’s sharp voice drifted over. “Uncle, look at her, she really embarrasses the Sterling family.” Arthur didn’t speak, just picked up his wine glass and took a sip. The pain made me almost lose consciousness, but Carter’s insults, Mia’s mockery, and Arthur’s coldness—these things kept me awake. The moment Carter grabbed my head to smash it against the wire mesh again, I used all my strength to ruthlessly knee him in the groin! “Aaargh—!” Carter let out a miserable shriek, clutching his crotch and falling to the ground in agony. No one expected that this seemingly weak woman would use such a ruthless move. I took the opportunity to break free, leaning against the wire mesh, panting heavily. Despite the excruciating pain all over my body, a sliver of satisfaction rose in my heart. In the VIP box, Mia opened her mouth wide in surprise: “She… how dare she!?” However, my counterattack did not bring victory. After twitching on the ground for a few seconds, Carter abruptly raised his head, filled with a crazed murderous intent. “Bitch! You’re dead!” He leaped up from the ground, his fists raining down on my face like a storm. I was beaten completely defenseless and soon collapsed on the ground. He stepped on the back of my hand, slowly turning his heel, grinding down with force. Crack. The crisp sound of bones breaking echoed throughout the arena. The severe pain made my vision go black, and I almost passed out. “Stop!” The referee’s voice rang out. “Carter wins!” Only then did Carter release his foot, his face showing the thrill of revenge: “Eldest Miss Sterling, how is the taste?” I lay on the cold ground, my consciousness blurring. On the large screen, the votes rolled rapidly, finally stopping on two words: “Lick toes.” The crowd cheered. Carter smugly extended his foot towards my face. “Come on, lick it clean, like a bitch.” At this moment, Arthur was watching this scene with great interest. Not only did he not stop it, he picked up the microphone and said to the entire arena: “It seems our Miss Sterling doesn’t quite understand the rules yet. Who will come teach her?” As soon as he spoke, two burly men stepped onto the stage, pressing down hard on the back of my neck, trying to force me to lick his foot. Over the next few matches, I became a joke. Every night, I was dragged back to that small room, and the next day dragged back into the ring, repeating the cycle of defeat and humiliation. “Striptease,” “Bark like a dog”… The special programs thought up by the audience became increasingly vulgar, each one trampling my dignity underfoot. But I never begged Arthur for mercy, not even once. My silence clearly angered him more than crying or screaming would have. The opponents he arranged for me grew stronger and stronger, even bringing in ruthless desperadoes. Until a butcher pulled out a dagger. The crowd went into an uproar, and even the referee looked towards Arthur. Arthur just said coolly: “In the fighting ring, life and death are on your own head.” The sharp knife slashed across my face, leaving a wound deep enough to show bone. Just when I thought I was going to die here, some dormant instinct within my body was awakened. I dodged a fatal thrust, used my shoulder to viciously ram into his ribs, followed by an extreme burst of energy. I won, in a tragic, desperate manner. I clutched my bleeding arm, looking coldly at the VIP box. The expression on Arthur’s face seemed to be one of heartache. But before that emotion could fully form, it was completely strangled by Mia’s vicious words. “Uncle, look at the way she’s looking at you. It’s like she wants to eat you alive.” “She’s an untamable wolf cub. Your soft-heartedness will only make her hate you more.” She leaned close to his ear and said something else. Arthur’s body clearly stiffened, and immediately, that trace of heartache in his eyes vanished completely. “You’re right, I was being too merciful.” He picked up the microphone and announced to the arena: “Tonight’s matches are over.” “But to reward our brave Miss Sterling, I have prepared a… truly special program for her.” As soon as he spoke, several men walked in, surrounding me with malicious intent. Leading them was Carter, the one who broke my hand in the first match. “Arthur! You’re crazy!” The friend who had previously advised him stood up again. “You can’t do this!” Arthur pushed him away. “What I do is none of your business!” “Chloe, this is your last chance.” “Kneel down right now, beg me, say you were wrong, say you’re willing to be my dog, and I’ll let you go.” Mia giggled beside him: “Sister, hurry up and beg for mercy. Look how much Uncle cares about you. All you have to do is kneel and wag your tail, and you can be saved.” I looked at those ugly faces and suddenly laughed. “Arthur Sterling, dream on.” My answer completely destroyed his last shred of patience. “Let her know what true despair is.” I didn’t struggle, nor did I cry out. I just opened my eyes wide, staring dead at that blurry figure in the VIP box. I don’t know how long it lasted before it was all over. I was just left like that in the center of the ring. “Arthur Sterling, you will regret this!!” I don’t know how much time passed before someone dragged me out of the iron cage like a dead dog, throwing me into a corner backstage. Arthur and Mia had also left. In the massive fighting arena, only a few cleaners were left, numbly cleaning up the mess. One of the older cleaners saw me, a flash of pity in his eyes. He quietly walked over and draped a reasonably clean employee jacket over my broken body. “Girl, get out of here.” “If you don’t leave now, you really won’t be able to.” I used all my strength to barely prop myself up, but the agonizing pain in my hand bones and my torn body made me fall again. Just then, a pair of expensive leather shoes stopped in front of me. It was the friend who had advised Arthur earlier, Julian. He took off his suit jacket, wrapped it completely around me, and picked me up in his arms. “Don’t be afraid, I’m taking you out of here.” I leaned against his chest, my consciousness wavering between wakefulness and passing out. I only heard him make a phone call. “Dr. Vance, do me a favor. Prepare the best room and doctor at your private hospital. I’m bringing someone over right now.” “Remember, use your name. Don’t let anyone trace it, especially not Arthur Sterling.” When I woke up again, I was lying in a clean, bright hospital room. My wrists were properly bandaged and immobilized, and the wounds on my body had been treated. Julian was keeping watch by the bed. Seeing me wake up, he breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake. You’ve been unconscious for two days.” I looked at him and rasped out, “Why did you save me?” “Because I still have a conscience.” “Arthur… he’s gone mad, blinded by hatred. I can’t just watch him destroy you, and destroy himself too.” I let out a cold laugh, the sound pulling at the wound on my face, a piercing pain. “Destroy himself? He’s riding high right now.” Julian remained silent for a moment, then handed me a tablet. “This is what I secretly copied. All the illegal records of Arthur consolidating assets, including the cash flow and transaction list of that underground fighting ring.” “I don’t know what you want to do, but I figured you’d need this.” I took the tablet, my fingertips turning white from gripping it so hard. “Why are you betraying him?” “He is my best friend,” Julian’s eyes dimmed, “But I can’t watch him turn into an absolute monster.” “And…” he paused, his voice low, “I owe you my life.” I was stunned. “Five years ago, your father planned a car accident to get rid of me. You secretly made an anonymous call to warn me, letting me escape.” “Although you never admitted it, I know it was you.”

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