Author: Momo Chan

After a massive fight with Wesley, I started to keep my distance from him. He asked me, his voice cold, “Didn’t you know I loved her before you married me?” From that day on, I stopped being jealous. I didn’t ask about him and Sienna checking into hotels late at night. When rumors spread in the alumni chat that he and Sienna had rekindled their old flame, I simply replied with a “Congrats!” Now, he sat beside me, panic in his eyes. His knuckles, gripping the steering wheel, were white. He slammed on the brakes. 1. Half a month ago, Sienna returned to the country. News spread that she was on a hiking trip, got trapped on a snowy mountain. Wesley rushed to the snowy mountain overnight, spending a million dollars to hire a professional mountain rescue team. I woke up to find a photo of him and Sienna trending online. Gossip accounts gushed about his and Sienna’s romance. “Turns out, there really is a love story like those in novels—a reunion after a long separation, a broken mirror made whole again.” “A certain CEO spent millions rescuing his first love, who was trapped on a snowy mountain. And the key is, he and his first love both look like they walked straight out of a novel.” The accompanying image was of Wesley carrying Sienna in his arms. Under the moonlight, his chiseled face was bathed in a soft glow. His expression was calm, his eyes deep. The woman in his arms clung to his neck. The picture was incredibly atmospheric, like the final scene of a movie. In our school days, Wesley and Sienna were a match made in heaven. Their grades and looks were equally impressive. I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring blankly. So, Wesley’s overnight absence was to find Sienna. I’d called him three times, but they all went to voicemail. After getting ready, I drove to the TV station for work. Sienna being trapped on the snowy mountain became a major news story. My boss assigned our team to do a report on people getting trapped on snowy mountains while hiking. I planned to focus on safety tips for hikers, while a colleague from another team wanted to dig into the gossip of Wesley and Sienna’s romance. My colleagues were discussing it. “This is truly a novel brought to life, isn’t it? Guess what I found out?” “They dated in high school and only broke up in their senior year of college.” “I’ve already contacted their high school and college classmates.” Suddenly, a colleague mentioned me. “Lynn, I remember you also graduated from Capital High and Capital University, and I think you were in the same year as them.” “Did you hear any stories about them from that year?” My body tensed, and I forced a smile. “No.” Of course, I had heard. I had a crush on Wesley from high school through college, and then we married. I knew about his and Sienna’s relationship better than anyone. My colleagues’ voices buzzed in my ears. “This story could really be turned into a novel.” “Such a perfect match, handsome guy and beautiful girl.” It wasn’t until a colleague next to me reminded me that I realized I hadn’t even drafted a single line of copy all morning. After work, I walked out of the TV station. I received a call. “Lynn, Ms. Chen wants our department to contact Sienna.” I felt a bit resistant. Interviewing my husband’s ex-girlfriend felt far too awkward. I tried to decline, but couldn’t. “Anna, how about I stay behind the scenes this time? I’ll handle a different segment.” “You guys go do the interview.” Anna readily agreed. “Okay, I’ll go for the interview tomorrow.” “But I can’t drive, can you give me a ride?” I said, “Sure.” I drove home. Wesley still wasn’t back. 2. The next day, Anna and I went to the hospital where Sienna was staying. We also had to interview other injured members of the hiking group. I waited in the car for Anna. Anna called me, “Lynn, I forgot my laptop.” “Can you bring it up for me?” “It’s in your car.” I looked around and found it on the back seat. I grabbed the laptop and hurried up in the elevator. Anna messaged me. “Lynn, we’re on the sixth floor.” “In room 605.” I got to the sixth floor. As I walked towards room 605, I inexplicably stopped. Through the clear glass, I saw Wesley and Sienna. Wesley stood up, and Sienna hugged him. She carefully stood on tiptoes. “Wesley, is there still a chance for us?” Wesley froze, his eyes swirling with emotion, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. Sienna took advantage of his distraction, leaning in, about to kiss him. His gaze was filled with a careful tenderness as he looked at the woman before him. Wesley closed his eyes. “Lynn, over here.” My colleague called out to me. Suddenly, Wesley’s eyes snapped open, and he pushed Sienna away. Both people in the hospital room looked towards me, standing outside the door. Wesley and I exchanged a look. I clutched the laptop and trotted over. Anna said to me, “Sigh.” “The big boss is too protective of his wife; he won’t let us interview her.” “After all, someone who can spend millions to rescue his first love wouldn’t easily make a public appearance.” “We’ll just have to interview others.” I was a bit distracted, vaguely replying, “Oh, okay.” I helped Anna finish interviewing all the members of the hiking group. The members were all complaining, “We paid so much money, and because of the guide’s mistake, we almost lost our lives.” “You’re reporters, can you help us sue this guide?” I reassured them, “We’re reporters, we can only help you get your voices heard.” “As for the guide, you’ll need to find a lawyer for that.” Back at the TV station, I sat down at my desk. In my mind, I replayed the scene of Wesley almost kissing Sienna. I had imagined many scenarios of confrontation, but never this. Wesley returned and appeared before me. I desperately tried to control my emotions. My eyes were misting. “Wesley, don’t you need to explain what’s going on with you and Sienna?” He took off his wool coat, preparing to head to the bathroom. He let out a low laugh, tinged with a hint of mockery. “Lynn, using your position to spread rumors—is that your purpose as a journalist?” I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Wesley, what do you mean?” “I just want you to explain yourself to me.” Wesley stared directly at me, his expression cold. “Spreading rumors that she’s a homewrecker, this report was written by you, wasn’t it?” “I’ve already had all the trending topics removed.” “Lynn, don’t let me see your TV station report anything related to her again.” “If everyone in your department wants to be fired, then prepare to pack your bags and leave.” I hadn’t written any report about her. But Wesley’s defense of Sienna and his accusations made me uncomfortable and hurt. I retorted, “Wesley.” “I’m your wife.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes distant. His tone was flat, casually aloof. “Lynn.” “You’ve had a crush on me for a long time. You already knew she was my ex-girlfriend; you should be very clear about our relationship.” “Before you married me, didn’t you know I loved her?” I froze, trying to speak several times but unable to form words. My eyes slowly reddened, welling up with tears. 3. I knew he loved Sienna. Throughout high school, I was always a peripheral student. Sienna was the beautiful, bright class president. He excelled academically and came from a good family. It was no surprise that Wesley and Sienna became a couple. In our senior year of high school, our homeroom teacher and head of year even praised them as the most outstanding students. Everyone expected the top scholar to be Wesley or Sienna. To everyone’s surprise, that year’s top scholar was me. When it was announced that I was the top scholar, the graduation class gathering buzzed with excitement. I attended the reunion filled with anticipation, only to learn that Wesley and Sienna had gone on a trip. Our homeroom teacher teased him, “Wesley, Sienna.” “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding when you graduate.” Wesley, barely sixteen or seventeen, could converse effortlessly with adults. “No problem, Mr. Davies.” “We’ll give you a seat at the main table.” I was disheartened for a long time. He and Sienna were together. I thought that by becoming the top scholar of our year, I could finally catch his attention. In college, Wesley majored in Computer Science. Sienna studied Law. They went from high school to college, inseparable for all four years of university. When Wesley didn’t have classes, he would often walk Sienna to her law school lectures. The Capital University campus bulletin board had a post. It featured a photo of Wesley, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, radiating youthful ambition. He was tall and lean, leaning against a tree outside the girls’ dormitory. “Seeking info on this guy. I’ve been watching him for ages, he’s so handsome. Does anyone know him or have his contact info?” Someone replied to the poster. “Don’t bother asking, he’s taken.” “He’s waiting for his girlfriend downstairs at the dorm.” “He and his girlfriend have been together since high school. Give up, there’s no chance.” “Wow, he’s like a devoted statue waiting for his wife. Such a passionate guy.” In the first semester of senior year, Sienna chose to sacrifice their love to study abroad. Young and headstrong, neither would back down, and they broke up. I was surprised when I learned of their breakup. For years, everyone thought they would end up together. By the time we graduated college, Sienna had been abroad for quite a while. That day, I was at a class reunion at a bar. Wesley was there too. He knew some students from our department; he’d been brought by a friend. I secretly glanced at him several times. After the party, he walked towards me. I thought my secret crush hadn’t been so secret; he knew now. During my four years of college, after learning about his relationship with Sienna, I rarely followed his news. I thought I shouldn’t like him anymore. Until we met again, and I found my heart still fluttered for him. He raised an eyebrow, saying without reservation, “You like me?” “Let’s exchange contact info.” At that moment, I felt like a floating balloon, my heart soaring. It wasn’t until we got married that I learned he had added me because he lost a game of truth or dare. When Wesley said those words, my mind went blank. “Didn’t you know I loved her before you married me?” His words echoed in my mind. He looked at me, his expression calm. My nose stung. “Okay, Wesley.” “I will interfere in your and Sienna’s affairs.” Wesley knew I liked him, yet he didn’t hesitate to use my crush to hurt me. His shoulder stiffened imperceptibly, and he picked up his pajamas, heading to the bathroom. This was the most serious argument Wesley and I had had in our two years of marriage. Usually, he was aloof and indifferent, so we barely ever fought. We would both concede to each other. I had dreamed of marrying Wesley, the object of my secret crush, throughout my youth, and I actually did. But married life was nothing like I had imagined. He didn’t love me; he married me only as a compromise with his family and on a momentary impulse. After the fight, our relationship remained as usual, neither warm nor cold. 4. I started to examine our relationship and came to a conclusion: we weren’t a good match. After I decided to let go of him, I found our interactions became much easier. I no longer bothered preparing dinner. I left the cooking to Mrs. Chen, our housekeeper. Nor did I leave a light on when he worked late or had business dinners. That night, he came home late. I didn’t pay attention to his work hours; I was in my study, dealing with my own work. Until he made a noise, pushing open the study door. His tightly furrowed brow relaxed. “Is there any porridge?” When he had late business dinners, I used to cook him a bowl of preserved egg and lean pork porridge, or noodles. I shook my head. “No.” Hearing that answer, he visibly paused, a little unaccustomed to it. “Is there anything else to eat at home?” I said, “No.” He usually had lunch prepared by his assistant at the office, and I ate lunch near the TV station. He often didn’t come home for dinner. So, there was hardly any food in the fridge. He nodded and turned to head to the bathroom. My relationship with Wesley slowly faded; to be precise, I had always been the one initiating contact. Once I stopped, there was hardly any connection between us. The last chat we had was a week before our argument, when I shared that my colleagues and I had found a great restaurant. I told him we should go together next time, and he replied he’d see if he had time. On Friday night, my colleagues and I at the TV station worked until 1 AM, then went to a nearby street for a late-night meal. One female boss’s husband called to pick her up. Anna proactively called her boyfriend, whose first words were, “Baby, send me your location.” “I’m already dressed and ready to go.” My colleagues around us teased, and Anna’s face flushed. “No, wait a bit.” “A few colleagues and Lynn and I are going for a gathering.” We ate hot pot. Afterward, the female boss’s husband picked her up with their child. Anna’s boyfriend held two cups of bubble tea. “They’re hot. You said this afternoon you wanted bubble tea. I bought them a while ago, didn’t expect you to be working late tonight.” I greeted Anna’s boyfriend. Anna handed me the other bubble tea. “Lynn, here, drink this.” I took the bubble tea, smiling, “Thanks.” Next to the hot pot restaurant was a five-star hotel. Looking up, I saw Wesley. He stood out too much, and with Sienna, he looked even more striking. Under the night sky, a man and a woman emerged from the hotel. I stood frozen.

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At eighteen, Mike stormed into my home and shot my stepfather ten times. As police dragged him away, bloodied, he grinned at my shocked face. “Rachel, don’t be afraid. No monster will ever hurt you in the name of family again.” After prison, he found me scavenging through trash, bullied by thugs. His fists tightened. He took me to the city’s underbelly, where we knelt, and he rebuilt himself into the feared King of the Docks. On our wedding day, he casually gifted me the entire Copperfield district as a dowry, declaring to all that I, Rachel Vance, was his life. But at twenty-eight, he was drugged during a deal and spent a night with another woman. Clutching divorce papers, I was intercepted by him and his men before reaching the lawyer. He loaded a pistol, pressed it to his own heart, and vowed, “Rachel, I’d rather die than lose you.” Unable to bear it, I relented. Later, I saw Mike with that woman—her belly rounded—shopping in an upscale baby store. The powerful man knelt before me, eyes red, explaining, “Lila is your father’s illegitimate daughter. He’s badly injured overseas; only she can bring him back. I swear, once I deal with that beast, I’ll send her away.” Swallowing the pain, I believed him again. Until this time, with one call, he diverted the heart my mother had waited ten years for. 1. I stormed into Lila’s VIP hospital room, ignoring the room full of dark-suited bodyguards and doctors. I raised my hand and slapped Mike hard across the face. He turned his head, his tongue tracing his bleeding lip. When he turned back, there was no anger in his eyes, only a complex look as he explained, “Lila was shot in the chest trying to save me. I couldn’t just leave her to die.” I gave a cold laugh and turned to leave. I used a secret way to arrange for my mother’s transfer to a hospital abroad. Then I found a lawyer to draft divorce papers and went to find Lila alone. “We’re both women, I know exactly what you want.” Lila’s eyes darted away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Mike wasn’t wearing his bulletproof vest that day. Where was it? Don’t tell me you don’t know.” Lila’s hands clenched, her knuckles white. “I don’t want to be part of your game anymore,” I said, handing her the divorce papers. “If I give these to him personally, he won’t sign them. You figure out a way to get him to sign without knowing.” Lila pursed her lips. “You’ve misunderstood. I never intended to ruin your marriage.” “This is your only chance,” I said coldly. “Think carefully.” Lila stared at the agreement for a long time before finally taking it. “Thank you, Rachel, for making our little family whole.” A family of three? My heart felt like it had been violently ripped out. “Then I wish you… a happy and complete family.” “And don’t call me Rachel. I find it sickening.” I couldn’t bring myself to forgive Mike and Lila. The only thing I could do was to tear Mike out of my very being. Returning to the castle Mike had spent billions building for me, I began to pack away the gifts he had given me over the years, one by one, into cardboard boxes. When I was ten, he drew a castle, two adults, and a child on a blank piece of paper, saying, “This will be our family portrait one day.” When I was eighteen, covered in blood, he placed eighteen blood-stained bullet casings in my palm. “From now on, you are the freest Rachel Vance.” When I was twenty-five, he controlled the entire underworld empire of the Docks and couldn’t wait to propose to me. The hand that had never trembled while holding a gun and taking a life, shook uncontrollably as he placed the wedding ring on my finger. It took him several minutes to finally put it on. He smiled, both cocky and arrogant. “Rachel, for the rest of our lives, you are mine. You can’t escape.” Finally, there was a deed to half of Copperfield, with “My heart, for you” written on the back. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Sadly, another woman already occupied his heart. I gave a self-deprecating laugh, packed everything, and scheduled a timed delivery to Mike. I specifically instructed that it was a birthday gift and had to be delivered precisely on time. The next day, I was woken by noise downstairs. Moving boxes were piled in the living room. Mike was cradling a crying baby, softly cooing. Lila stood beside them, the three forming a harmoniously jarring picture. The setting sun cast a fleeting, gentle glow on his hard profile. Lila whispered, “I can just go back to my old apartment…” “It’s not safe there. I can only rest easy with you living here,” Mike cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. I leaned against the doorframe, watching for a long time, unnoticed. Until Lila picked up our framed photo from the mantelpiece. “Mike,” I said coldly, “do you even remember where this is? What kind of riff-raff are you bringing in?” Mike finally realized I was home. “This is the safest place. Once things calm down, I’ll send them away.” Our eyes met. One cold, one weary. I looked away first. “Whatever.” But Lila stepped forward, offering an envelope. “Rachel, thank you for your hospitality. Here’s a small token of my appreciation.” I opened it. It was the signed divorce agreement. The bold, powerful signature “Mike Sterling” at the bottom was just like his resolute promise to love only me all those years ago. My fingers trembled imperceptibly as I held the agreement. I hadn’t expected it to be so quick, so easy. Since it was, I didn’t need to cling on any longer. “What’s that?” Mike reached for it, but I deftly dodged him, stuffing it into my bag. “My belongings are none of your concern.” Mike stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly pulled a black card from his wallet and handed it to Lila. “Take this. The PIN is 0608.” The PIN was still my birthday, yet the bank card was now a gift to appease someone else. I curved my lips in a sarcastic smile. “It seems I’m interrupting your happy family of three here.” With that, I turned to leave. Just as I brushed past him, Mike snatched the divorce agreement from my bag. A rare flicker of seriousness crossed his eyes. But he was interrupted by a child’s wail. “It’s my fault. My presence has made Rachel angry with you, Mike. If she doesn’t want me here, I’ll just leave…” Saying this, she hurried towards the door with the baby. This time, Mike had no mind to look at the paper. He stepped forward to block Lila and her child, his tone towards me colder than I’d ever heard it. “Rachel, be sensible. Lila saved my life. I can’t just watch them live in danger, can I?” “They’re innocent. Even if your father hurt you and your mother because of her, it wasn’t Lila’s fault. Do you understand?” Realizing his tone was too harsh, he glanced at Lila, then lowered his voice, coaxing me, “Even if I have a child, you’re the only one I care about.” My gaze swept over the child in Lila’s arms. Care? If he truly cared, how could he bear to let me be a laughingstock again and again? I opened the door and walked out. I had already booked a taxi. Just as I pulled open the car door, my wrist was seized from behind. Mike had followed me out. “I said I’d take you.” “Mike, I’m not the one who needs you right now.” Mike’s pupils constricted, his grip tightening. “Rachel…” His palm was scalding, burning like a branding iron. “Oh, come on, handsome. If he’s that sincere, lady, just go with him,” the driver said, canceling the order. Today’s snow was heavier than usual, falling thick and fast. Getting another taxi would mean a long wait. I finally compromised. “Fine, you can take me.” Mike’s expression softened slightly. He took my hand, his fingers forcefully interlacing with mine. “Your hands are freezing. You didn’t wear gloves?” “Forgot,” I said calmly, not mentioning that my gloves were always kept in his car. On the way, Mike tried to lighten the mood, reminiscing about old times. “I remember the first time I fought for you. It was also a heavy snowfall like this. After the fight, I grabbed a chocolate bar for you, and it melted in your hand.” I remained silent, but Mike didn’t give up, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Next month is our wedding anniversary. What gift do you want? I need to prepare in advance.” My expression flickered. I suddenly wanted to tell Mike directly that I had decided to divorce him. My phone rang before I could speak. “Mike! The baby won’t stop crying for some reason. I can’t comfort him.” Lila’s tearful voice mingled with the baby’s hoarse cries. Mike’s face instantly changed. “What’s wrong? I’m coming right back!” The call ended. He didn’t hesitate. “Rachel, can you take a taxi to the hospital yourself?” “Okay.” I looked at Mike for a few seconds, then calmly agreed, swallowing the words I had been about to say. He was so close to knowing my decision. The snow was too heavy, and the location too remote. I couldn’t find a taxi at all. I trudged through the snow, my legs numb with cold. Tears streamed down my face, instantly freezing into ice. I finally reached the civil affairs office, my face almost transparently pale, my voice lacking any warmth. After warming up in the heated office for a while, I submitted the divorce papers to the staff. I’d requested expedited processing; they said I’d have the divorce certificate in seven days. Returning to the castle, only the guest bedroom light was on. Mike’s gentle voice seeped from under the door. “…Daddy and Mommy will always love our little baby the most…” He was singing a lullaby to coax the child to sleep. “What should we name the baby?” Lila asked softly. “Leo,” Mike blurted out. Star-like brilliance, the light of the emperor. That was the name he and I had chosen for our future child years ago, after spending a night poring over dictionaries. Now, it was easily given to someone else. I curved my lips in a self-deprecating smile and turned to go upstairs. Late at night, hot breath ghosted against my neck, and cool lips pressed against my skin. “Mike!” I woke with a start, pushing him away forcefully. “Don’t touch me! I find it disgusting!” “You despise me?” He froze, his eyes instantly darkening. He ignored my struggles and kissed me fiercely. “Hiss—” I bit his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Mike winced, but still didn’t let go. My nightgown was roughly torn open, revealing my pale, tender skin. His touch everywhere only caused waves of nausea. Tears silently streamed down, splashing onto his hand. “Alright, don’t cry.” He finally stopped, fumbling to wipe my tears. “It’s my fault.” I clenched my fists, staring at him. “You said everything could go back to how it was…” “But Mike, you never used to be like this.” Mike paused, then after a moment, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” He took a pillow and went to the sofa. Perhaps due to my tears last night, Mike felt guilty and suggested we go to the shooting range to relax. When he pulled up the car, I was about to get into the passenger seat, but Lila squeezed past me. He didn’t notice at all, getting out of the car himself, placing his hand on Lila’s head to shield her as he helped her in. After we arrived, he was constantly doting on her, completely forgetting I was behind him. “Careful, it’s slippery.” “Look down. Put on your goggles.” “Drink some hot water, don’t catch a cold.” Every word felt like a bullet tearing through me. I silently walked to a shooting lane, picked up a silver Desert Eagle, expertly loaded and cocked it, then aimed. These were the things he had taught me when I was twenty-five, whispering softly in my ear, guiding my hands. But now, all his attention was on another woman, afraid she might suffer the slightest mishap. Ten minutes later, he finally remembered me, but only to say, “Rachel, can you hold the baby for a moment? I’m going to teach Lila how to shoot.” I ignored him, pulling the trigger repeatedly. The gunshots echoed, startling the baby into loud cries. Lila immediately persuaded, “I won’t learn anymore, Mike. Go accompany Rachel.” Mike frowned, picked up the baby, and walked towards the rest area to find his assistant. “Rachel,” Lila approached, holding a small pistol. Her smile was gentle, but her eyes were cold. “I heard lead bullets are safe, but I’m curious what happens if you’re shot within a meter.” She suddenly raised her arm and pulled the trigger! Bang! The gun fired. The bullet tore through my wrist bone. Blood spattered out. Lila’s scream rang out simultaneously, and Mike rushed over almost immediately. “Mike!” I cried out in pain. But he ran straight to Lila, his expression frantic, scooping her up and rushing out, not once looking back at me. Warm blood soaked through my sleeve. I vaguely recalled when I was twenty-five, he held my hand and said: “Rachel, guns are dangerous, but with me, you’ll never be harmed.” My vision blurred. I sank weakly to the ground. When I woke again, I was in a hospital. Both hands were bandaged. The slightest movement brought excruciating pain. Mike sat by my bedside, dark circles under his eyes. “Rachel, you’re awake?” His voice was hoarse. “Does it still hurt?” Seeing his seemingly genuine concern, I suddenly felt very tired. “Did you investigate what happened?” “It was just an accident,” Mike replied without thinking, tucking me in. “Rest well and don’t overthink it, okay?” I pressed my lips together, wanting to speak, but then I noticed that my uninjured right hand was also bandaged. “What happened here?” “Lila’s hand was severely mangled, and the doctors said she needed a skin graft. But she’s allergic to artificial skin…” A chill spread through my body, bit by bit. “Your skin matched hers. The situation was too urgent, so I signed the consent form for you to donate skin to Lila.” He said it so casually, yet I felt as if I’d plunged into an ice abyss. My eyes widened in disbelief, trying to find a trace of a joke in his gaze, but tears welled up uncontrollably. Mike’s tone became urgent: “It was just a small piece from the inner arm. It won’t affect anything…” “Get out,” I said softly, closing my eyes. “I don’t want to see you.” Mike froze, reaching out to touch me, but I fiercely slapped his hand away. “Get out!” I shrieked hysterically. “Get out!” The wound burst open, blood seeping through the bandages. Mike’s face changed, and he frantically pressed the call button. “Rachel, calm down! Your wound has reopened!” I heard nothing, struggling wildly, my arm crashing against the bed rail. The nurse rushed in and held me down. A cold sedative was injected into my veins. My strength rapidly drained away. With my last ounce of energy, I squeezed out two words: “Divorce.” On the day I was discharged, Mike personally picked me up and took me home. Everything there was back to normal. All traces of Lila and the child were gone. Mike set out the food. “Try it. I haven’t cooked in a long time.” His expression was normal, but I felt something was off. I looked at him and asked directly, “Mike, I don’t want to interfere in your and Lila’s affairs anymore. If you have something to say, just say it.” “Don’t overthink it. Eat first.” He evaded the question, serving me food and soup. During the meal, there was only the faint sound of cutlery. He glanced at his watch occasionally, a habit of vigilance he’d developed over the years. My unease grew stronger. I hastily ate a few bites, and as soon as I stood up, a wave of dizziness sent me back down. Mike put down his utensils, his expression slowly turning cold, chilling to the bone. “Rachel, this is your punishment.” His tone was one I had never heard before, so devoid of warmth. “I’ve already sent Lila away, yet you still dared to leak her whereabouts to my enemies! She and the child were almost run over! Rachel, how could you become so vicious? That’s my child too!” Leaked whereabouts? Almost run over? I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t…” “Only I, Lila, and you knew about that house! Was she trying to get herself killed?” He suddenly pulled me up. “I’ve indulged you too much.” “Rachel, reflect on your actions.” With that, he personally locked me in the closet. The world instantly plunged into dead silence and darkness. When I was ten, my mother hid me in a closet, and I watched my father brutally assault her for three hours. Blood splattered all over the closet. I stayed in there for three days and three nights. It was Mike who found me and carried me out. Now, he was the one who personally locked me in. Cold sweat immediately drenched my back. Fear seized my heart. I huddled in the corner, breathing rapidly, unable to distinguish reality from illusion, my face ashen. Before consciousness faded, I saw him at our wedding three years ago, holding my hand, swearing to the heavens: “I, Mike Sterling, swear to God, I will never betray you, Rachel Vance, in this life.” That vow, once made, now burned to ash in an inferno. When I woke again, the air was thick with the smell of disinfectant.

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After the divorce, with my legs broken and eyes blinded, I changed my identity, vanished without a trace, and opened a dessert shop in the South. I saw Sebastian Evans again five years later. A runner, here to pick up an order, told me, “For all these years, Mr. Evans hasn’t had a single woman by his side. He’s been waiting for you.” The words had barely left his lips when Sebastian walked in. The man was in a black suit, four bodyguards trailing behind him, his entrance silencing the entire street. I felt him standing at the counter, watching me for a long time, his gaze so heavy it chilled my heart. But in the end, he simply uttered coldly: “Willow Hayes, long time no see.” “Mmh, long time no see.” I fumbled, wiping the counter, my face devoid of emotion. I remembered five years ago, it was only because his adopted sister, Clara, claimed I had drugged her drink, leading to her assault. Sebastian flew into a rage. He had my kneecaps shattered on the spot. Then he took screenshots from the intimate videos we’d made and scattered them across the entire clubhouse. “Personally tested, soft-bodied, seductive voice, knows how to please. Free delivery.” His subordinates tried to reason with him: “Willow is about to be your lawfully wedded wife, Mr. Evans. Why would you destroy her?” Sebastian, however, kicked over the incense table. “She dared to touch Clara; she should know the consequences.” “I only wanted to scare her. I didn’t actually send her out. Let her taste what it’s like to be humiliated.” I leaned against the doorframe, standing in the shadows, my vision black, yet I could feel his icy gaze. He showed no remorse, gripping my chin and saying, “This time you crossed a line. Your suffering is your own doing.” “As long as you go kowtow to Clara, admit your mistakes, and atone for the pain she suffered, I’ll still make you Mrs. Evans.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat, picked up the photos one by one, and tore them to shreds in front of everyone. The next second, a whistle sounded from outside the clubhouse. “I’ll take this dame.” Sebastian suddenly smashed the teacup in his hand. His subordinates immediately fell silent. Someone quietly advised, “Sir, maybe just let it go. It wouldn’t sound good spreading around…” Sebastian turned to me. “Willow Hayes, what do you say? Will you admit your mistake?” I lowered my eyes, then turned and felt my way towards the back room. Behind me, I heard his ice-cold sneer: “Your… friend here has no objections, why are you all so anxious? Since the gentleman doesn’t mind her being ‘soiled,’ I must fulfill his request.” I slowly walked out. Many people in the corridor pointed and whispered about me. My hands and feet were numb with cold. A drunken thug suddenly lunged, wrapping his arm around my waist, spewing obscenities. “Heard you specialize in serving the sick? Coincidentally, I just got out of the hospital, full of filthy diseases…” I screamed, struggling, but passersby disgustedly moved away. Whispers drifted faintly: “That’s her, right? The one Mr. Evans discarded. So dirty.” “Serves her right. She put those photos out herself, and now has the nerve to cry for help.” I trembled all over, hissing, “My man is Sebastian Evans! How dare you touch me—” “Got a man but still hooking up outside? Those videos of yours are everywhere. What kind of lowlife would want you?” “Call your man out then. If he really comes, I’ll let go.” Before the words fully left his mouth, the door to the private room at the end of the hall opened. Sebastian emerged with his men. Hearing his footsteps, my tears instantly flowed. “Sebastian! Save me!” But he didn’t even glance at me. He just smiled at the drunkard. “Brother, she likes this kind of attention. She specifically picks those with… conditions.” Then he walked straight past. The drunkard roared with laughter. “Mr. Evans doesn’t even want you, why are you still putting on an act?!” I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly a large amount of blood gushed from below me. The man, startled, let go and ran off, cursing. I stumbled to my feet and went to the nearest clinic. The baby was gone. I had planned to tell Sebastian I was pregnant on our third anniversary. But now, all that remained were blurry blood clots in a sterile tray. The doctor on duty looked at me, her expression full of unspoken words. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Evans sent word… he demands you never touch perfumery again. Your studio has also been trashed. And apparently… you owe him five million dollars.” I closed my eyes, the taste of rust rising in my throat. The doctor’s eyes reddened. “How could Mr. Evans become like this… Years ago, he almost had a shootout with a rival gang to protect your perfumery studio; the last time someone caused you trouble, he risked his life, rushing in alone to carry you out.” “He clearly loved you so much, how could he now, for an adopted sister, cripple your perfuming hands and ruin the rest of your life?” Yes, why? I shook my head, unable to speak. When I first met Sebastian, I didn’t know he had an adopted sister. He was injured during a brawl at the docks, a knife piercing his lung, just half an inch from his life. I nursed him for three days and nights in my family’s apothecary, using an ancestral recipe to pull him back from death’s door. The day after he woke, he sent his men to summon me. Bandages wrapped around half his body, he smiled hoarsely at me. “Miss Hayes, for saving my life, my life is yours from now on.” I took it as mere courtesy from a man of the underworld. But he truly pursued me for a whole year, deflecting countless troubles from my small apothecary. Knowing I often stayed up late perfuming, he would always wait at my shop door with hot soup whenever he returned. It was hard not to be moved, yet I dared not be. Until three years ago, a rival sent assassins into my perfumery studio. Sebastian completely shielded me with his body, taking a knife in his back and another in his arm. The day he had his stitches removed, I said yes to him. For these three years, everything had been perfect. Until he was absent on the day we were to get our marriage license. Three days later, he appeared with Clara, only vaguely saying he’d forgotten. Sebastian asked me to take good care of Clara. I did my best. Three days ago, Clara came to me, complaining of a rash. She begged me not to tell her brother. I assumed it was an allergy and took her to our family’s trusted old doctor, who prescribed an external ointment. But when I saw the medical notes, I froze—they stated an STD. Before I could figure out how to tell her, Sebastian burst in with his men, shielding a red-eyed Clara. With a single command, my kneecaps were shattered with an iron bar. I curled up on the ground in pain, asking him why. He looked at me coldly. “I thought you were different from those other women. I never imagined you were so malicious.” “Just because I missed getting our license, you gave Clara tainted medication, making her contract that disease?” “She’s only twenty!” “You don’t deserve to touch perfumery. Crippling your legs is a lesson.” Clara suddenly burst into tears, pointing at the medical notes on my table. “Willow, you planned this all along! You hurt me and then falsified medical records!” “Do you hate me that much? Then I’d rather die!” “Have you already spread these medical records? What’s the point of me living anymore!” She lunged towards the corner of the table, but Sebastian caught her in his arms. He looked at me, his eyes icy. “Willow Hayes, you’d force my sister to her death just for a piece of paper?” “Publicly apologize. Admit that you deliberately harmed her out of personal resentment and falsified medical records.” Tears in my eyes, I shook my head. “Sebastian, this will ruin the Hayes family’s centuries-old reputation!” “I didn’t do it. I will never admit to it.” But no matter how I defended myself, how I begged him to have the ointment tested, he only signaled his men to hold my head, and under the gaze of all the clubhouse members, made me kowtow a hundred times to Clara. Blood dripped onto the floor. Onlookers raised their phones. I finally couldn’t bear it anymore and passed out. When I woke, I received a message from his confidant, telling me to find Sebastian at the casino to explain everything clearly. Clutching the last shred of hope for Sebastian, I made my way there. But I heard with my own ears that he intended to give me away to someone else. The doctor, seeing my painful expression, said no more and handed me a course of post-exposure prophylaxis. “Take these on time. Come back for a check-up in a month.” I thanked her softly and dazedly made my way back to my place. My phone lit up with a message, accompanied by a boat ticket. “Willow, don’t be afraid. Brother is coming to pick you up. No matter the cost, Brother will cure you.” Tears streamed down, and I cried myself to sleep. Half-awake, half-asleep, my injured knee was forcefully pressed. The intense pain made me scream and jolt upright. “Don’t touch me—!” “Willow, it’s me.” In the dim light, I heard his voice. It was Sebastian. He carried the scent of sandalwood from a recent shower, the exact same fragrance Clara habitually used. My body instantly stiffened. He hugged me indifferently, saying, “So I left you with that thug and didn’t care? Do you really have to make such a fuss with me, not letting me touch you?” “Who in the underworld doesn’t know you’re mine? With me around, who would dare truly harm you in the slightest? See, everything’s fine now.” I couldn’t stop trembling, tears rolling down my cheeks. He frowned, seemingly finding my reaction overly dramatic. “Willow, you’re a Hayes lady, a perfumer. Is your spirit really so fragile?” He picked up the box of medicine from the bedside table, his tone softening slightly. “Do your knees still hurt? I specially had Black Jade Ointment brought from the South Seas. With this, combined with physical therapy, you’ll be well soon, it won’t affect your walking or perfuming later.” “Stop making a fuss. Tomorrow morning, go and apologize to Clara in person. Then this matter will be over.” The fragile calm I had maintained finally shattered. I raised my tear-filled eyes to him. “Sebastian, let’s get a divorce.” No sooner had I spoken than he looked down at his phone, a smile playing on his lips. He abruptly looked up at me. “What did you just say?” Without waiting for me to repeat myself, he impatiently waved his hand. “I just landed a big deal. If you want to buy anything, just charge it to the account. Consider it my compensation.” “Clara said she wants to help you pick out your wedding dress. You’re coming with me to the bridal shop now to try on dresses for Clara to see.” He half-threatened, half-coaxed, pressing gently on my injured knee. “This time, cooperate with her properly. Let her blow off some steam. Understand?” “If anything goes wrong again, I really will send you to that buyer, you know.” He completely ignored my reaction, forcefully taking me to the bridal shop. I silently followed. The jade pendant my mother had left me, I had always kept at the bridal shop, intending to wear it at the wedding. Now, it seemed unnecessary. In the bridal shop, Clara was already waiting, still obedient and timid. Though I couldn’t see, I could hear her delicate voice: “Chloe… please don’t be like this. I’m scared.” “Willow!” Sebastian warned, squeezing my wrist, then pressed lightly on my injured knee. I paled with pain, gritting my teeth to squeeze out, “No.” Clara then smiled and said, “Willow, let’s go look at the dresses.” The assistant brought out the wedding dress Sebastian had specifically customized for me. Clara’s voice brightened. She nestled against Sebastian and whispered, “Brother, can I try it on? Just for a moment…” Her voice suddenly choked. “I’m already… not clean. I might never wear my own wedding dress in this life… Just to fulfill a dream, okay?” Sebastian’s voice was gentle. “Okay.” He turned to me, the pressure in his tone implicit. I closed my eyes, nodding. “Thank you, Brother!” Clara chirped excitedly, then exclaimed, “This jade pendant… it’s so beautiful. Brother, can I have it? I want it as a keepsake.” I gasped, lunging forward, trying to retrieve the pendant. “No! This can’t—” “Give it to her.” Sebastian’s hand was already in front of me. My heart felt struck by a heavy hammer. I clutched the jade pendant. “Sebastian, this is my mother’s only memento…” “So what?” He unceremoniously pried my fingers open. “Don’t forget, you already owe Clara. This jade pendant will serve as compensation.” “No! You can punish me however you want… but not this!” I desperately tried to snatch it back. Just as my hand was about to touch the jade pendant, Clara suddenly shrieked and recoiled! “Willow, why did you push me!” “Clara!” Sebastian shoved me aside, striding forward to catch Clara. My feet found no purchase, and I tumbled down the stairs. My bones felt dislocated, the pain so intense that my vision blurred to black. A metallic sweetness surged into my throat, and I coughed up dark blood.

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The half-smoked cigar in the ashtray still emitted tendrils of smoke. I don’t smoke. That’s for Richard, Olivia’s childhood friend who just returned from overseas. He enjoys a good cigar. Olivia emerged from the study, following my gaze to the ashtray. Her eyes flickered, and she quickly stubbed out the stub. “Richard was just here. His company ran into some trouble, so he came to iron out a contract.” I nodded, picking up the air freshener and spraying it around the room. “No need to explain. I just genuinely dislike the smell of smoke.” Richard was Olivia’s golden boy, her cherished “friend,” even in bankruptcy. And because of him, on my thirtieth birthday, I sat in that restaurant all night, feeling like a complete fool. Since that night, I’d extinguished every last spark of hope I had for Olivia. Olivia watched me expertly clean the ashtray, her brow furrowing deeper with each swipe. “Why aren’t you angry? You used to hate him coming over.” Why should I be angry? This used to be my home, yes, but now, it was nothing more than a place to sleep. 1 I didn’t answer Olivia’s question. She followed me into the living room, a puzzled look on her face. Her gaze scrutinized me. “What’s wrong with you?” I forced a smile. “Isn’t this the kind of relationship you always wanted?” Olivia was speechless for a moment, then rephrased her words. “Richard is in serious trouble. That contract is crucial for his comeback, that’s all. Why would you…” She didn’t finish her sentence. I already filled in the blanks in my mind. Why would I taint their friendship with such sordid thoughts? She seemed to realize her words were a bit harsh, her tone softening. “I haven’t done anything behind your back. He was in the study for work, nothing more.” “Beyond being friends, I’m his legal counsel, and he’s my client. It’s that simple.” I remained silent. Olivia’s composure faltered, revealing an unmistakable frustration. “James, what exactly do you want from me?” I looked up at Olivia. “I don’t want anything from you.” “And you don’t need to explain any of this to me.” Catching sight of a lighter on the table, I pointed to it. “Why don’t you take this back to him now? He might not be able to sleep tonight if he can’t have his usual smoke.” Olivia’s face fell completely. It wasn’t the first time Richard had shown up late at night. The first time, his creditors were trashing his company. It was midnight, and he showed up at our door, voice cracking with tears. Olivia, still in her nightgown, went back to the office with him and stayed all night. About a month later, I saw a brand-new photo frame on Olivia’s desk. Inside was a picture of her and Richard from middle school, both in school uniforms, looking young and awkward. Olivia casually explained, “Richard gave it to me. Said it was to thank me for helping him out that time.” She placed it prominently, as if it were a treasure. I suppressed the storm brewing in my chest. In the end, I said nothing. But within a few days, Richard was at our door again late at night. He said, as if it were the most natural thing, “Liv, I brought some late-night snacks. Join me for a drink, I’m so stressed out.” Olivia walked past me, taking the bag from his hand. Her voice was full of familiarity and concern. “Come in, quick. What’s happened now?” Richard gave her a wry smile. “Only you can help me.” He seemed to completely ignore my presence, walking straight into the dining room. I stood rooted to the spot. That was the first time Olivia and I had our most explosive fight. By the end, her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at me. “James, not everyone is like you. Please don’t waste your energy on these pointless suspicions.” “Richard is different from you. He’s a man of ambition, and he’s really struggling right now.” The anger was still a hard knot in my chest. I stared blankly at Olivia. But Olivia turned away from me and walked into the study. Snapping out of my memories. Olivia’s gaze remained fixed on me, as if searching for some familiar emotion on my face. She was disappointed. My expression was completely unreadable. As I was about to head upstairs, Olivia’s voice drifted from behind me. “James, tomorrow is your thirty-first birthday.” “I ordered you a cake.” 2 If Olivia hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten my birthday entirely. Ever since Richard returned, she’d missed every one of my birthdays, always with the same excuse. Can’t get away. Last year, for her birthday, I’d excitedly booked two tickets, hoping to spend a romantic getaway in Switzerland. I called Olivia’s phone, but it wasn’t her who answered. It was Richard. “James, Liv is in the middle of an urgent dispute for me. I’ll have her call you back when she’s free.” Hearing Richard’s voice, my mind went blank for a second. Olivia’s phone was always with her, and she hated anyone else answering it. In our first year of marriage, I once used her phone for an emergency. When she came back, she didn’t say anything, but her expression was anything but pleased. After that, I never touched her phone again. Yet, Richard could answer it so casually on her behalf. This incident led to another heated confrontation between Olivia and me. She thought I was being unreasonable. All those meticulously planned travel itineraries sat untouched in a drawer for a year. Pulling myself back to the present, I turned to her. “My birthday? I completely forgot.” Olivia’s expression froze, her face etched with disbelief. “You forgot your own birthday?” I didn’t answer her again. I went upstairs and into the guest room. Late that night, I was jolted awake by the insistent ringing of the phone downstairs. I vaguely heard Olivia speaking in hushed tones. Just as I reached the top of the stairs, I heard her changing shoes. “I’m on my way to the police station. Don’t worry, just talk to the officers calmly for now.” “It’ll be okay, I’m coming. Wait for me there.” “If it’s their fault, I won’t let them off easy.” By the end, Olivia’s voice had taken on a soothing quality. Richard was Olivia’s neighbor, growing up together. From kindergarten to elementary and middle school, they were always in the same class. Perhaps that was why she always helped him without reservation. Even at my in-laws’ house, Richard, an outsider, was a perpetually hot topic. Soon, Olivia’s voice carried up. “James, I have to go out.” “Right,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “My regards to Richard.” “Richard? Were you listening to my call?” “Who else in this world could make you rush out in the middle of the night?” “…” Richard had called her away again. I slowly walked downstairs. Olivia was already in her coat, frantically searching for her car keys by the door. I glanced at her but said nothing. I bypassed her and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She nervously ran a hand through her hair, explaining in a rapid rush of words. “James, it’s not what you think. Richard had too much to drink and got into a fight. I have to…” I turned my head, a smile playing on my lips. “I get it. No need for so many words.” “Go quickly. Don’t keep Richard waiting. And be quiet when you come back, don’t wake me.” Olivia looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words. She grabbed her car keys and hurried out. After Olivia left, I sat in the living room for a long time. “James,” she called out, tired, after an unknown amount of time, “Is something wrong with our relationship? We should talk.” I smiled. “What do you want to talk about?” “About Richard?” Olivia fell silent. I sighed, my gaze unnervingly calm, as if I were looking at a stranger. “Olivia, I don’t feel there’s anything to discuss. Richard is your friend, and your most important client.” “It’s only natural for you to help him with his troubles. I won’t be upset about these things, and you don’t need to account for yourself to me every time.” “You don’t need to explain anything. I can understand, I can sympathize.” Olivia’s face instantly drained of color. These were the very words she had thrown at me during one of our countless arguments over Richard. Now, I returned them to her, word for word. She was about to speak again when her phone rang. It was Richard. Olivia glanced at me, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. Finally, right in front of me, she answered and put it on speaker. Richard’s drunken voice slurred from the other end. “Liv… Liv, I’m almost home, thank you. Ugh…” “Hey, kid! Don’t throw up in the car, hey…” It sounded disgusting. But Olivia’s expression wasn’t disgust; it was anxiety. “Richard, Richard, where are you? Are you home?” The call disconnected. Olivia looked down, lost in thought, before finally raising her head to look at me a few seconds later. She stared at me, at a loss for words. I spoke first. “You should have stayed out if it was going to be like this.” Olivia was silent for a long moment before she spoke. “Who cares about him? He’s just a child who will never grow up.” I curled my lips into a small smile. My conversation with Olivia ultimately went nowhere. She went back to the master bedroom, and I went back to the guest room, but I couldn’t sleep. About half an hour later, the door opened, and a car engine started again. The sound faded into the distance. She went to him after all. 3 Lying in bed, I suddenly felt like laughing. Olivia and I met on an architectural design project. I was the one who pursued her. We dated for three years, and as soon as the project ended, we got married. For the first two years of our marriage, Olivia and I were very happy. I won the prestigious Carpenter’s Award for that project and started my own studio. I became the most talked-about rising star in the industry. Olivia also started getting very busy. Daily meetings, frequent client consultations for various cases—I accepted it all. Even on my birthday, she only had her assistant send a gift. Despite a hint of dissatisfaction, I still texted back with a smile. Thanks, wife. Career comes first. I understood her struggles as a law firm partner. Worried about her erratic eating habits, I’d often drive to her office to pick her up for dinner when I had time. After a year of this, she suddenly said, “Don’t bother with me anymore. I can just order takeout myself. It’s too much of a hassle for you to drive back and forth.” Later, I found out that Olivia’s childhood friend, Richard, had returned to the country. When I asked about it, she said, “He had no choice. His partner screwed him over. I can’t just abandon him.” I agreed, not pressing the matter further. Until I noticed Richard frequently appearing in our lives. He was down on his luck, yet his conversation remained witty, and he was particularly adept at playing the victim. Olivia, who hated social gatherings, was surprisingly willing to accompany Richard to dinner and drinks with investor after investor. Our first rift appeared when he gave Olivia that old childhood photo. But Olivia thought I was overreacting. “Darling, he’s just an old friend. You don’t need to be so jealous.” And so, our disagreements grew. Our cold wars became more frequent. All because of Richard. We even discussed divorce, but ultimately, it never happened. Olivia disagreed. During that time, I was almost spiraling out of control, obsessively tracking her schedule. If she didn’t answer her phone, I’d become restless. She accompanied Richard out of town to meet with investors. I frantically messaged her, asking for updates. Until Richard used her number to text me back: “Liv is in a meeting, can’t pick up.” “James, I know you care about her, but you also need to understand her work.” “Could you please not bother her for today?” I couldn’t hold back and sent Richard many rude messages. Olivia finally called back, but it led to another furious argument. “James, why have you become like this?” “What will Richard think of those messages you sent? If my colleagues saw them, how could I face anyone at the firm? What would your friends say behind your back?” “You’re being unreasonable every day. Have you considered the consequences?” Olivia completely avoided mentioning her and Richard’s boundary-crossing behavior, only seeing my actions as irrational. The ICU door opened, and I was told my mother was gone. Looking at Olivia’s disconnected call, I burst into tears. Sadly, my mother never got to see her daughter-in-law one last time. Richard’s company reportedly secured crucial investment. He posted several messages on social media, expressing his gratitude to Olivia. After all, during the seven-day negotiation in the city, a tug-of-war between three investors, Olivia had been by his side the entire time, clearing all legal hurdles for him. I didn’t ask a single question. I worked when I needed to, and I rested when I could. I didn’t give Olivia even an extra glance. Several times, Olivia seemed about to speak, but didn’t know how to begin. In the evening, Olivia stopped me. She spoke to me with a hint of uncertainty. “For this financing negotiation, as lead legal counsel, I have to be involved every step of the way.” I paused. I thought Olivia was going to say something else, but it was just about this. I looked up, a polite smile on my face. “I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t disrupt your work. Is there anything else?” Olivia seemed to reach her breaking point, her voice trembling as she snarled, “James, have you caused enough trouble?” “Enough.” 4 After Olivia returned from her trip, she started to change. Aside from necessary collaborations, she stopped meeting Richard privately. She would voluntarily place her phone in front of me, reporting all her engagements. But I no longer cared. It was too late. Besides, I had already accepted a job offer in Singapore. I stopped paying attention to Olivia. With my mother gone, I had no more ties. Three days before my departure, Richard’s company held a grand press conference, announcing successful funding. It was live-streamed. When the camera focused on Olivia, as the lead counsel, she simply said, “I want to thank my loving partner for his years of support and understanding.” The media showered her with praise, applauding her ability to balance family and career. “You and Mr. Richard truly are a golden couple, a perfect match.” “No, you’re mistaken. My husband’s name is James, and he’s an architect! From now on, I’m giving up all social engagements to be a good wife and mother.” Richard’s smile faltered for a moment, but he still went along with the press conference. I turned off the live stream and continued packing my luggage. After the press conference, Olivia’s phone rang. As soon as I answered, I heard Richard’s excited voice on the other end. “Liv, you were amazing today! Your presence captivated everyone.” “Tonight, we’ve booked out the entire hotel to celebrate our future!” Olivia instinctively tried to muffle the phone, afraid I might hear. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. Richard happily grasped her wrist. “Then it’s settled, Liv.” Olivia looked at her phone, only then realizing the call had already disconnected. When Olivia came home late that night, she found a file folder for her on the table. Inside was the signed divorce agreement. She threw the divorce agreement onto the table. “How much longer are you going to treat me like this?” she said. “I’ve changed so much. What more do you want from me?” Olivia looked at me. “Are you blaming me? I’m sorry, Mom was sick, and I didn’t visit her. Let’s go to the hospital to see her tomorrow.” I looked at Olivia with an icy gaze. “Shouldn’t I blame you?” The next day, I took Olivia to see my mother. All the way there, she kept texting on her phone; I knew it had to be Richard. It wasn’t until we arrived at the cemetery that she realized something was wrong. I led her to my mother’s grave. She froze, then knelt down and burst into tears. I dusted off my mother’s tombstone. “Mom, I’m going to Singapore. I won’t be able to visit you often anymore. Take care of yourself.” I handed Olivia the divorce agreement. “Sign it. This way, Mom won’t have to keep worrying about you, her daughter-in-law. Let’s not argue in front of Mom.” “No, James. Give me another chance. I won’t disappoint Mom.” “I’ll cut all ties with Richard right now and come with you to Singapore. We can start fresh there.” Just then, Olivia’s phone rang. It was Richard calling.

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It was eight in the morning, and I sat in our wedding suite, waiting for the groom. But he was nowhere to be found. His mother’s face was ashen. “I’ve been calling him since this morning, but he won’t answer. His father has already driven home to look for him, said he drank too much and can’t be woken up…” Furious, I snatched up my phone and dialed him. After several attempts, it finally connected. “Hello?” His weak voice came through the receiver, heavy with sleep. My heart sank, and I hit the speaker button. “Callum, do you know what day it is today?” “Huh? What day?” I became frantic, shouting into the phone, “It’s our wedding day!” He fell silent for a few seconds, then instantly sobered up. “What? When did we decide to have a wedding?” 1 I was struggling to process it all. My mind was racing: Is there still time for him to get here? But I knew Callum too well. He always took a full hour to get ready before leaving the house, let alone needing to put on a suit and get his hair done today. What if we cut corners? “Callum, quickly take a shower, throw on whatever’s in your closet, and take a cab straight to the hotel.” I thought this was the most reasonable solution, but Callum absolutely exploded. “Seriously, mate, when did we ever say we were having a wedding?” “How come I know nothing about this? Did I agree to it?” “Can you just stop making trouble for no reason?” Me: … I gripped my phone, my hand trembling slightly. For this wedding, I’d slept only four hours a night for a solid month. Yesterday, I’d been busy all day and night, not even stopping for a drink of water. But now, he had me so angry my stomach churned, and I felt nauseous. I retorted, my voice cold, “The engagement is set, the dress is tried on, the reception is booked. And now you’re telling me you don’t know about the wedding?” His tone was utterly matter-of-fact. “Of course, I don’t know! No one told me!” Everyone around exchanged uneasy glances. His mother cautiously asked me, “Chloe… did you really not tell him?” I froze. How could I not have told him? I asked him, “Did I need to send a formal written notice to document the proposal?” Callum, however, sounded completely justified. “Well, how else? Don’t make me roll my eyes, seriously. You’re so unreliable, and you have the nerve to blame me? I’m completely baffled here!” “What’s with this sudden wedding today out of nowhere? I never planned on having one! Are you that desperate to marry me?” My heart turned to ice. But I looked around. The room full of staring relatives and friends, the dazzlingly festive decorations… It felt like I was being roasted alive. Everything was ready, friends and family had cleared their schedules. Many were already sitting at the hotel, eagerly waiting for the reception. And the groom was claiming complete ignorance? I let out a cold laugh. “I get it. You’re not ignorant, you just don’t want to come. You want to run away, don’t you?” Callum heard the disappointment in my voice, sighed, and softened his tone. “Chloe, I was just having morning grumps, said some things I didn’t mean… But think about it. I was gaming with Maya until 4:30 AM. She wanted to play, I couldn’t just leave her, could I? When can’t we get married? Is it really that urgent?” “Come on, don’t be mad, you’ll make yourself sick. Once I wake up, I’ll take you for hot pot, okay?” Me: … Someone nearby whispered. “Who’s Maya?” “I don’t know, never heard of her.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down, and gave Callum my ultimatum. “I’m giving you one more hour, tops. If you don’t make it, the wedding is completely off.” Callum neither explicitly refused nor explicitly agreed; he just dodged the issue. “But I’m not even fully awake yet…” A surge of hot blood rushed to my head. I emphasized again, “Be clear. What I mean is, if we don’t get married today, we never will.” Callum was silent for a moment. “Then let’s talk after I wake up.” Then he hung up. 2 I was covered in a cold sweat, trembling with anger. Yet, I felt a crushing powerlessness, as if all the air had been sucked out of me. I wished I could just faint, so I wouldn’t have to deal with this nightmare. But things always needed to be dealt with. I couldn’t break down yet, couldn’t lose control. I looked up at the people around me. Their faces were grim, too. Especially Callum’s parents; they looked like their world had caved in. Clearly, they hadn’t expected their son to be this unreliable. Actually, glimpses of Callum’s personality had surfaced even before the engagement. At the time, his parents and I had arranged everything for the engagement. I told him to prepare his outfit for the day in advance. But he was completely unenthusiastic, gaming with his head down, drawling, “Uh… do I have to go?” I just took it as a joke. After all, he’d gone through the entire engagement, albeit reluctantly, without much complaint. And what happened today was even more bizarre than a nightmare! For a moment, I even wondered if I could find a temporary groom. But this was reality, not some short, feel-good drama. How could I possibly find a suitable replacement on such short notice? Even if I wanted to, no one would agree. What if I hired an actor to go through the motions with me? Forget it… other than collecting the wedding gifts, it would be meaningless. At this point, there was no remedy. My wedding. Completely ruined. 3 I’ve always been strong-willed, clear-headed, and hated letting others see my vulnerable side. So I bit back my tears, striving to keep my voice steady and a smile on my face. “Well, there’s truly nothing we can do. The wedding has to be canceled last minute. Please spread the word.” With that, I opened my contacts, haphazardly called someone, and apologized profusely for the last-minute cancellation. On the surface, I appeared indifferent to the turn of events. In reality, my mind was in turmoil. I couldn’t even remember who I called, or what they said, only focusing on apologizing, apologizing, apologizing. Silence met me from the other end. The entire room was also dead silent. Anticipating gazes were fixed on me, heavy as tons of weight. I braced myself, fighting to keep from breaking down, and quietly waited for a response. Suddenly, the person on the other end asked, “So, when’s your next wedding?” A strange feeling washed over me, but I instinctively replied, “I haven’t thought about it yet, but to make up for today, I’ll definitely treat you to dinner and apologize in person another day.” “…Alright then… Are you okay?” “I’m perfectly fine.” “But you don’t sound fine.” “Oh? Do I?” I let out a few dry laughs, vaguely realizing this person was a bit odd. But at that moment, I had neither the inclination nor the time to ponder it. I exchanged a few more pleasantries, then quickly hung up. Seeing this, everyone around me’s faces darkened. They all picked up their phones, rushing to spread the news. Telling those waiting at the hotel for the reception to leave, and that wedding gifts would be returned as recorded on the registry. Many grumbled, “What kind of mess is this? Never been to a wedding like this before! Should’ve known not to come! Never seen anyone so unreliable!” “Came here hoping for some good luck, but this is just awful! Should’ve known not to come, this is a joke!” “Could she have been dumped and not even know it? Isn’t she just making fools of us?” “Shh, don’t say that. The groom’s family is well-off. Maybe she’s trying to force him into marriage with the wedding. But he’s too stubborn, refused to show up…” I pretended not to hear any of it, continuing to call the next person to apologize. Then, something even stranger happened. 4 The friends and relatives who had just left the hotel, grumbling, had barely cleared out when a section of the hotel building suddenly collapsed. Fortunately, due to the timely evacuation, there were no casualties. Perhaps even heaven was trying to stop this wedding. I thought, if I had to choose the most miserable person in the world today, it would surely be me. The incident quickly made the news. And Callum, who had just woken up, stumbled upon it. He forwarded the news to me, proudly boasting: [No wonder I didn’t go, it’s because this building was going to collapse. You tell me, if I had actually gone today, how many people would have died? How farsighted of me!] [I really don’t know why you’re always rushing and making trouble for no reason.] [You’re all so unlucky because you didn’t listen to me, haha.] After being busy for a day and a night, seeing these messages, a metallic taste suddenly filled my throat, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood. The white wedding dress, meticulously chosen for a month, was now stained with my own crimson blood. I stared blankly. My mind was empty, my ears ringing. He was utterly beyond belief. So unbelievable that I didn’t even know what to call him. I simply tossed my phone aside, sat in the empty wedding suite, and continued to remove my hair and makeup in front of the mirror. But his recent words echoed repeatedly in my mind, tormenting me to the point of near madness. My hair was only half-removed when I suddenly couldn’t hold back anymore and burst into tears. Giving up completely, I yanked at my hair haphazardly, ignoring the painful tug on my scalp, and with trembling hands, typed: [Okay, let’s break up.] He replied quickly. [Chloe… don’t be angry, I’ve actually reflected on it. I admit I was wrong too. I’ll make it up to you properly when you get home, okay?] [Besides, it’s just marriage, it’s bound to happen eventually, what’s the rush? You don’t really want to get married right now, do you?] [Hurry up and finish what you’re doing, then come find me. Haven’t you always wanted hot pot? I’ll treat you to a big meal.] A heavy stone pressed on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Bound to happen eventually… He thought I would unconditionally and indefinitely wait for him, that I would never leave him. What if I stopped waiting? Would he feel as awful as I did today? But recalling his smug face, I couldn’t help but let out a self-deprecating, cold laugh. No, he wouldn’t feel awful. There was no way I could make him personally experience the pain I suffered today. And what I wanted to eat wasn’t hot pot at all; it was barbecue. Callum always forgot. The long-suppressed feelings of injustice and humiliation surged forth all at once. My vision suddenly went black. When I next woke, I was in a hospital bed. Callum’s parents stood beside me, looking ashamed and awkward. Callum’s mother gently held my hand. “The doctor said you need to rest and shouldn’t get emotional again.” “Chloe, we truly let you down today. We only ever wanted him to be happy, and we didn’t usually interfere….” “But you know, he’s not a bad kid. He didn’t mean any harm, he probably didn’t do it on purpose, and he definitely cares about you…” Callum’s father’s brow was deeply furrowed. “What do you plan to do about this? Whatever you decide, we’ll support you.” Just as I was about to speak, my phone suddenly rang. It was Callum. Again. Why was it always him? I stared at the familiar name on the screen, finding it incredibly jarring. Like a sharp knife, piercing directly from my eyes into my heart. I hung up on him, wanting some peace, and intended to turn my phone off. But before I could, he called again. I closed my eyes wearily, then answered, putting it on speaker. Curious to hear what new brazen things he would say. “Babe, are you still busy? When are you coming over? Bring me a pack of cigarettes, by the way.” I gave a faint, bitter smile and looked at his parents. The two elderly faces instantly turned grim. I stared at his parents, then spoke into the phone, “Callum, I already told you, we’re breaking up.” Callum was clearly startled. “Huh? Really? You’re breaking up over such a small thing?” I took a deep breath. “This isn’t a small thing. This is a very important thing, and it’s the most basic sense of responsibility a person needs to have. Clearly, you don’t have it. So we’re not a match, do you understand?” Callum impatiently scoffed. “Are you done or not? So what if I wasn’t fully awake today and didn’t go to the wedding? Don’t keep bringing up breaking up!” “I’m telling you, if you insist on being unreasonable, I won’t humor you this time. Even if you beg me, I won’t talk to you.” Callum’s mother exploded, leaning over and shouting into my phone. “You good-for-nothing! Chloe just coughed up blood and was rushed to the emergency room, do you have any idea?!” Callum was completely stunned. “What? Really coughed up blood? That shouldn’t be… She’s such a strong woman, is her stress tolerance that low? Is she faking it?” Callum’s mother roared, “Are you even speaking like a human being?!” Callum gave an annoyed tut, then concernedly said, “Chloe, how are you now? I’m sorry, I really didn’t expect such a small thing to upset you this much… Oh, wait, I said that wrong! It’s a big thing! A very important big thing!” “Which hospital are you at? I’m coming to find you right now!” Callum’s mother was about to tell him the hospital name, but I interrupted her. I spoke to Callum: “No need. We’ve broken up. So you can go back to sleep.” “I’m not sleeping, stop messing around…” I continued, coolly, “Oh, then go play games with Maya.” “I won’t play games with her anymore, okay?” I didn’t answer, hung up the phone directly, blocked his number, and turned off my phone. Then I turned to his parents and said, “Aunt and Uncle, thank you for always taking care of me. But Callum and I are truly over. Please don’t tell him where I am; I can’t handle any more stress.” “I’ll mail his belongings back to you within three days. Everything of mine at his place, I don’t want it. You can dispose of it as you wish.” “As for other matters… I’m really struggling to focus right now. I’ll tell you when I remember.” The two elderly people understood my family situation. They exchanged a knowing glance, then sighed deeply, looking very distressed. They were just confused about how to raise their son, but their character was not bad. So, they had no intention of taking back a single penny of the twenty thousand dollar dowry. If I had any other requests, I was welcome to tell them. I was speechless. Callum and I had been together for five years. In the past, I had also considered staying single and childless for peace of mind. Because my parents divorced early, then quickly formed new families, tossing me back and forth like a ball. No one loved me, no one wanted me. Until I met Callum after graduating from college. He was very kind to me, and genuinely a good person. He also had a very warm family, with wonderful parents. This year, we were both nearing thirty. Our friends and his parents had been subtly pressuring us to get married. I thought marrying him seemed like a good idea. But the boy who had once promised me, “I’ll give you a warm home, and I’ll be good to you for life,” ended up hurting me. So, my five years of youth and devotion, the effort I put into planning the wedding, and the humiliation I faced today… weren’t they worth more than those twenty thousand? And I probably wouldn’t have another wedding in this lifetime. Nor would I ever again crave a warm home. In matters of the heart, Callum had utterly destroyed me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394692”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Under a video of me selling stir-fried rice from my street stall, a scathing comment went viral: [She dumped her poor boyfriend for a rich one back then, only to find out the poor boyfriend was the Crown Prince of the capital. That gold-digger must be fuming, huh?] I replied: [Oh yes, furious, can’t sleep. Do you know him? Could you put in a good word for me?] That very night, someone trashed my stall. As I was cleaning up the mess, a pair of gleaming leather shoes stopped in front of me. I looked up. It was my “poor” ex-boyfriend, Brandon Fitzgerald. 1. It wasn’t that I hadn’t imagined a reunion with Brandon. But I certainly hadn’t pictured myself looking this dishevelled. Brandon was dressed in a bespoke suit, the aura of power radiating from him, an inherent authority in his gaze. Our eyes met, and he indifferently shifted his focus, then spoke, “Manager Hayes.” His voice was unhurried, yet carried a heavy, palpable pressure. “When did the company entrance turn into a marketplace?” A man, wiping cold sweat from his brow, rushed forward. He kicked aside the scattered cooking pots, grumbling, “Who allowed you to set up a stall in front of the company! Clean this up immediately!” “Be careful, I’ll have the city wardens fine you to death.” A rag was flung at me, carrying a sour smell. Brandon’s expression remained unchanged; he didn’t even twitch an eyelid. I couldn’t afford the fine. I squatted down, picked up the rag, and gently wiped the ground, kneeling. As I wiped near Brandon’s feet, his fingers seemed to curl slightly. For a moment, I thought he might pull me up. My eyes must have deceived me. He remained standing ramrod straight, aloof and distant, keeping everyone at arm’s length. A surprised voice rang out from behind him. “Is that… Emily?” A brightly dressed woman stepped forward, covering her mouth in disbelief. “Oh my god, it really is you.” “Didn’t you emigrate with your rich boyfriend? How… how did you end up like this?” It was my high school classmate, Sarah Evans. I hadn’t expected her to be working at the same company as Brandon. Now, she was impeccably groomed down to her hair, standing shoulder to shoulder with Brandon, a picture of a perfect couple. “Don’t bother cleaning, you’re a top university graduate, you shouldn’t be doing this kind of work.” She quickly pulled me up, intimately linking her arm through mine, and told Manager Hayes, “Manager Hayes, could you please ask the cleaning staff to work overtime?” “This is an old classmate of mine and Brandon’s. She used to be even better at academics than me.” Manager Hayes was shrewd. He masked his surprise and stepped forward, apologizing with a flattering smile. Sarah’s face was full of concern. “Emily, let’s find somewhere to catch up.” “Back then, you just left with that rich boyfriend without a word. Everyone thought you were living the good life abroad and didn’t want to disturb you.” “What exactly happened? How… how are you selling stir-fried rice?” “Look at your hands, they’re so rough! Your down jacket is shedding feathers, how can you even wear that!” She had manicured, meticulously cared-for hands, long and pale, which made my swollen, frostbitten hands look like ugly carrots. But before, Brandon used to say I had natural pianist’s hands. I knew Sarah wanted to embarrass me. But it didn’t matter anymore. My tone was calm. “We broke up.” Sarah subtly glanced at Brandon. Seeing his indifference, a flicker of glee crossed her eyes, but her face showed regret as she comforted me. “It’s alright. We’ll just live steadily from now on.” “As classmates, we’ll definitely help where we can.” “Brandon, doesn’t facilities need a cleaner?” Brandon looked at her and said coldly, “Sarah, it’s time to go.” Sarah winked playfully. “Brandon, why don’t you go ahead and wait for me in the car? I’ll be right there.” Brandon said nothing, stepping down the stairs. His gaze was cool and directed straight ahead, never once straying towards me. As he passed, only the sleeve of his overcoat brushed imperceptibly against the back of my hand. My fingertips suddenly trembled, as if uncontrollably trying to catch that breath of wind. But it was an empty grasp. He didn’t stop. A bottle of mineral water suddenly splashed onto my face. “Emily Smith, how dare you try to seduce Brandon Fitzgerald?” 2. The icy water droplets dripped down my loose hair. With the crowd dispersing, Sarah dropped her act, her eyes blazing with undisguised mockery and resentment. “What? Are you deliberately putting on a pathetic show here, hoping to make Brandon feel soft? What a dream!” “You dumped him for that rich boyfriend back then, and he went crazy, searching the whole world for you.” “He dropped out of school, abandoned his projects. The moment he heard anyone might have seen you somewhere, he’d rush off without a second thought, completely dazed, he even fell onto the tracks and almost got run over.” “Someone like you actually thinks he’d still have feelings for you? He said it himself, you’re the person he hates most. “Did you see him even glance at you just now? He doesn’t even want to mention you, because you disgust him.” Her voice was unnaturally clear in the night, like thumbtacks, pressing one by one into my heart. But my chest felt numb, like rotting flesh, incapable of feeling pain. The phrase “he hates you most” echoed endlessly in my mind. Let him hate me. It didn’t seem to matter much. I wiped the water from my face and pushed my cart, intending to leave. Sarah placed a foot on the cart, sneering, “Running away, old classmate? “You’re so desperate to act trashy, so I have to give you a big gift in return. Look at this, what is it?” Sarah raised her right hand, revealing a diamond engagement ring the size of a pigeon’s egg. “Brandon and I are getting married. As old classmates, I’ll send you an invitation.” “But we’re getting married in Bali, and flights and hotels aren’t cheap. With your income, tsk, a round trip would mean frying rice for several years. I won’t put you through that, after all, our levels are different.” “So, please get lost and don’t even think about pursuing Brandon, otherwise—” Her lips curled upwards, and she slapped the partitioned containers off my cart, scattering ham and cured meat all over the ground. “Emily Smith, I couldn’t beat you in school, but now, I can easily crush you.” She crushed the meat and vegetables on the ground with her heel, her voice triumphant. “Security, keep an eye on this person. Drive her away every time she shows up.” “Don’t let any trash sit in front of the company.” “Ugh, Brandon will have to buy me another pair of lambskin shoes. These are dirty now.” She sashayed away, leaving behind the mangled meat and vegetables. I stood silently in the wind for a few seconds. Then, I squatted down to pick up the meal containers and any edible pieces of meat and vegetables. I didn’t have much money left; I couldn’t afford to waste food. A black Maybach drove past me, its dark shadow enveloping me. The rear window was halfway down, and in the shifting light and shadow, Brandon’s face was clearly visible. Sarah clung to his arm, cooing something. He turned his head to respond, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over my face, like looking at an unimportant stranger, indifferent and unfamiliar. The car’s lights faded into the distance, merging with the bustling city. I picked up the last piece of cured meat and prepared to go home. A security guard came over and quietly said, “Don’t take it to heart, miss. It’s hard to be the boss.” “But they usually don’t bother street vendors. Did you upset them?” Upset them? The night wind dried my dripping hair. Yes, I had. In high school, Sarah liked Brandon, but Brandon only had eyes for me. Now, the tables had turned. She should be satisfied. Was Brandon relieved too? 3. When I met Brandon, his name was still Nathan. He was a high school student. His parents had killed each other in an argument, and his relatives divided up their belongings, all calling him a bastard and refusing to take him in. On a freezing winter night, he stood on the street in a worn down jacket, with nowhere to go. His cool, distant eyes held a hint of a breakdown on the verge, as if he would shatter with the slightest touch. That day, I happened to be helping at my dad’s small food stall and saw him, on the brink of breaking. My heart softened. I ran over, asking for his help in an exaggerated tone. “My dad’s new stir-fried rice is terrible, but he insists it’s delicious. Could you try a bite and help me judge?” He looked at me, startled, then after a moment, slowly nodded. After that, he became a part of our little food stall family, studying under the lamp, tutoring me with my homework, helping my parents out, becoming one of us. I loved the clean, fresh scent of soap on him, I loved his cool, quiet tone, I loved the way his eyes would drop when he looked at me. A young girl’s affections bloomed wildly in my heart. The night after our final exams, a girl confessed to him. His smile was gentle, and I thought he’d accepted. My heart felt like it had fallen into a vat of vinegar, so sour I couldn’t speak, so I ran off to a karaoke bar to sing love songs. When he found me, I was singing “The one who loves you most is me~,” tears and snot flowing. He laughed helplessly, pulling me home. I refused, pouting, “You’re someone else’s boyfriend now, why are you still bothering with me? Don’t you have any boundaries?” He instantly guessed what was going on, and exasperated, flicked my forehead. “What’s your mouth for? Can’t you even verify things?” I stared at him blankly. He looked at me evenly, and said seriously, “I turned her down. I have someone I like.” Under the moonlight, his eyes shone like stars, making my heart pound. “Who?” I asked, burying my head. “Who do you think?” He laughed wryly. I guessed the answer. It felt like fireworks exploded in my heart, but my mouth remained stubborn. “I don’t know.” A soft kiss landed on my lips. “Do you know now?” That night, my face burned red. Holding his hand, under the hazy moonlight, I kissed him awkwardly and greedily. I felt as happy as if I owned the whole world. And I believed we would always be this happy, forever. Until an ordinary afternoon, a distinguished lady knocked on our door, presenting a paternity test report. We then learned that Nathan, now Brandon, was the lost young master of the wealthy Fitzgerald family in the capital. She pushed a bank card towards us. “Five million. That’s enough to cover your family’s expenses for Brandon over the years. From now on, cut ties.” My dad angrily threw the card back, saying we didn’t take Nathan in for money, and we wouldn’t abandon a family member for money. Mrs. Fitzgerald smiled composedly. “I’m doing this for your daughter’s good too.” She looked at me, her gaze frank. “Brandon doesn’t know about this yet. We’re observing him to see if he qualifies to return to the Fitzgerald family. He’s excellent in every aspect, except for you as his girlfriend.” “I wouldn’t mind leaving him as a gold nugget buried in the dirt, or even using certain means to ensure he never rises. But if he one day learned the truth, do you think he would hate you? Our home fell into a dead silence. My mom wanted to call Brandon, but my dad wouldn’t let her. That year, Brandon was in his final year of college. He’d given up his graduate school spot to start a business with some friends, and they were in a critical phase of their project. “We can’t ruin him,” my dad said, stubbing out a cigarette, making his decision. “I’ll sell the stall, and we’ll move.” I refused, every cell in my body resisting leaving. He was the boy I loved with all my heart; how could I bear to let go? How could I bear to let him experience the pain of abandonment again? He would go mad. I argued with my dad. “I’m not leaving! Why should I break up with Brandon just because of a few words from her?” “I’m going to tell Brandon; he has a right to know.” My dad slapped my phone out of my hand, demanding, “Do you really want him to hate us for life? And is that kind of family one we can marry into? Marrying up is like swallowing needles.” “You have to listen to me on this. Break up with Brandon, and don’t contact him again.” “Impossible!” I stared into my dad’s eyes, red-rimmed. “As long as Brandon doesn’t break up, I’ll be with him even if the sky falls!” “This is between Nathan and me. You don’t need to meddle!” “Smack!” A slap landed on my face. It was the first time my dad had ever hit me, and his whole hand was trembling. That night, I stormed out of the house in a fit of pique, took a cab to the train station. I was going to the capital; at least Brandon should have a choice. But before I could reach Brandon on the phone, the hospital called first. They said my dad was in a car accident. On his way to find me, he was run over by an out-of-control truck. He died instantly. 4. But fate’s punishment didn’t cease with my remorse. In the morgue, seeing my father’s broken body, my mother suffered a heart attack out of grief and was admitted to the ICU. Our meager family savings were no match for this bottomless pit. I sat on the bench outside the emergency room, terrified and desperate, my mind filled with the thought that I was to blame. Brandon’s mother appeared at that moment. With just one sentence, she arranged for the nation’s top heart specialist to treat my mother. The medical expenses that were crushing me were merely a few casual figures in her mouth. My mom was saved, but due to the immense shock, she developed mental health issues. One moment, she’d be holding me, calling me “Emily,” the next she’d smash a teapot over my head, cursing me as a “jinx,” saying I killed my dad, asking why I didn’t just die. Mrs. Fitzgerald looked at me with pity. “Do you want to continue?” “You see, even heaven doesn’t approve of you two being together.” Before, I would have certainly jumped up and cursed her. But the overwhelming self-reproach and internal struggle had drained all my strength. I couldn’t even summon hatred for her. I only hated myself; hated my willfulness, my impulsiveness, and even hated that I fell in love with Brandon. “Let me show you Brandon. He’s been busy with a joint project lately. You haven’t seen him in days, have you?” She opened a video. In the video, Brandon, wearing a white lab coat, was intently discussing something with a girl. A person I knew down to the last hair, yet in that moment, he felt as foreign as if I had never known him. “This girl is Brandon’s classmate, and also the heir to a company. “Even the most soul-matched lovers, at least need to understand what the other is saying. Emily, can you understand?” I couldn’t understand. They were speaking English, yet it sounded like gibberish to me. How could I be so stupid! “You don’t need to worry about your mother’s medical expenses.” “But your studies will probably have to stop for a while. However, I will give you enough money so you’ll never lack food or clothing.” She picked up my phone. “Call Brandon.” “Of course, you can refuse me, but your mother’s medical care will stop tonight.” She was threatening me, yet she was my only lifeline. The call connected, and Brandon’s gentle, joyful voice almost shattered me. He eagerly shared his latest achievements with me, what he had discovered, what breakthroughs he had made… In the past, I would always enthusiastically react, showering him with praise until he blushed. But at that moment, I had a splitting headache and just wanted to go crazy. I couldn’t understand, not a single word. “Stop talking! Let’s break up.” The joyful voice came to an abrupt halt, then he laughed lightly. “Let me guess, what day is it today? April Fool’s?” “Nathan, I’m serious.” A long silence, so long I thought the call had disconnected, before he finally asked, his voice raspy, “Did I do something wrong to upset you?” “Is it because I’ve been busy with projects lately and haven’t spent enough time with you? I’ll come back right now.” “Emily, I can change anything you don’t like. Don’t say break up, please?” My fingernails almost dug into my palms. My whole body felt like it was being ground by a blunt knife, aching to the point of breaking, but when I spoke, it was with forced ease: “It’s not your fault, I just got tired of it.” “To be honest, there’s a rich guy at school pursuing me. He offered five million for my whole family to go on vacation, and said he could help us emigrate.” “Dating anyone is dating, why would I stay with a poor guy like you?” Brandon’s breath hitched, and he pleaded earnestly, “I’ll earn five million, just wait for me, okay?” “I know I can’t give you a wealthy life right now, but I’ll work tirelessly. In less than three years, I promise I’ll hand you five million.” “So please don’t break up, don’t go with him, okay?” He begged desperately, almost abandoning all his pride. He was on the verge of shattering. I was on the verge of dying. But I had no path left. “What if you can earn five million?” I retorted with extreme sarcasm. “Yes, you’re brilliant, you have boundless potential, but can you really compete with generations of family wealth?” “For the sake of my family raising you, don’t hold me back from a good life.” Ignoring his near-broken cries, I quickly hung up the phone. One more second, and I was afraid I would break down, go crazy, lose my mind and tell him everything in tears, crying out for a hug. But I couldn’t. I curled up on the floor, my whole body aching as if my bones were being pulled apart. Clutching my chest, I cried until I was almost suffocating, so pathetic that even Brandon’s mother didn’t mock me further. She stroked my head. “If it weren’t for the complications, I’d quite like you.” “Bright and innocent, like a little sun. But these are useless qualities in an elite family.” “I’ll arrange for you to leave; accommodation and hospital care are all set.” “You should go soon.” She tossed my phone into a fish tank, then handed me a new one. “Your phone is broken. Use this one from now on; I’ve already arranged the SIM card for you.” Like the phone drowning in water, I could no longer contact the outside world. After that day, I completely lost touch with Brandon. The feelings I thought were monumental were gradually worn away by my mother’s daily scolding, turning into wounds, resentment, and illness. I poured out the last few pills from the bottle and swallowed them all at once. 5. The bad reviews escalated. Overnight, netizens dug up the identity of the “poor boyfriend.” Brandon Fitzgerald, heir to the capital’s Fitzgerald family and CEO of Sterling Group. Netizens, like hungry beasts, tagged me relentlessly. [Gold-digger, you’re selling stir-fried rice outside Sterling’s office, are you trying to get back with him?] [Please, just uninstall the dating app. Getting back together isn’t for a gold-digging B like you.] [I’m a Sterling employee. Last night, the gold-digger’s stall got trashed. Our CEO just walked past, didn’t even glance at her, and got straight into his Maybach.] [Could the gold-digger have hired people to trash it herself? LOL, our CEO has a fiancée, you know!] It had been a long time since so many people talked to me. My spirits lifted, and I replied to each comment: [What’s embarrassing about it? Is there anything wrong with bravely pursuing love?] [Your CEO isn’t avoiding looking at me; he’s afraid to, afraid of falling for me again.] [So what if he has a fiancée? As long as they’re not married, I still have a chance, don’t I?] The netizens exploded, filling the comments with insults, calling me shameless, and even tagging his fiancée, Sarah Evans. Sarah quickly replied: [Sorry for the trouble, everyone. Life is tough, just trying to grab some traffic. Think of it as entertainment for you all.] [However, if you defame our CEO, our legal department will pursue it~] I turned off my phone, laughing and rolling around on the bed. Dr. Lee said I needed to talk to people more, better to be carefree than to overthink, otherwise I’d get sick, and then I’d need medicine. But I found that netizens were more effective than medicine. I could say anything, and hundreds, even thousands, of people would respond to me. Besides them, who else would talk to me like this, coax me into happiness? My pots and pans were smashed, so I couldn’t set up my stall for now. But rent was due soon. I pulled on my yellow waterproof jacket, hopped on my scooter, and went to deliver food. Five consecutive orders were all from Sterling Group. I couldn’t refuse them; I’d be fined. Thanks to the delivery job, I entered Sterling, sharing an elevator with the corporate elite. The floor numbers flashed rapidly, and my thoughts were restless too. If I hadn’t dropped out, I’d probably be working in a place like this now. I went to a top university too. In a daze, I wasn’t paying attention and missed my floor. And it was lunchtime, so several elevators were crowded. Only the elevator outside the side door was empty. Without thinking, I ran over, frantically pushing the button. The elevator doors opened, and I rushed inside. Two men in suits reached out to stop me. “This is a private elevator. Please use…” I brazenly pleaded, “Please, my delivery is almost overdue, I don’t want to be fined…” They tried to push me out, but a cold, stern voice came from behind. “Let her in.” The man in the suit stepped aside. Only then did I see that standing at the very back was Brandon Fitzgerald. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, and behind the lenses, a pair of eyes stared coldly at me.

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My millionaire father believed in raising me the hard way. To build my endurance, he made me walk twelve miles to school. To teach me frugality, he made me eat the dog’s leftovers. To strengthen my body, he made me wear nothing but a thin shirt in the dead of winter. I followed every one of his cruel rules without question. Because he was my father. Then came the school fundraiser. I begged him for a little money to donate. He slapped me across the face and told me to earn it myself. When I didn’t donate a single cent, the teachers and students branded me, the daughter of a tycoon, as selfish and cold-hearted. I was berated by my teachers and tormented by my classmates. When my father found out, he didn’t defend me. He stormed into the school and bragged about his “tough love” methods, publicly parading every single one of my humiliations for all to see. That was when I finally broke. I threw myself from the roof of the school. Now, reborn, I walk into my father’s alumni gala, draped in millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry. … The searing pain of the fall vanished in an instant. My vision swam back into focus. My father’s grating voice was droning on in my ear. “Veronica, just because we have money doesn’t mean you can throw it away. Do you have any idea how many loaves of bread you could buy for ten dollars?” My mind reeled. I died, didn’t I? I was back. Back to the moment I asked my father for money for the school fundraiser. His eyes were filled with disgust as he picked up his cup of thousand-dollar tea and took a lazy sip. “Get back to your room! You’re an eyesore. Not a damn thing like Jessica.” His voice dripped with contempt. “Is asking for money all you know how to do? I feed you, I clothe you, and still, you’re never satisfied!” I lowered my head. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was wrong.” His tirade cut short. He seemed stunned by my quick apology. In my past life, I hadn’t given in so easily. I had argued, and for my defiance, I got a brutal beating instead of the money. My eyes swept over the opulent mansion before I turned and walked towards the damp, crumbling basement. My room. In my last life, my father’s “tough love” doctrine meant I got the worst of everything—food, clothes, and shelter. I was constantly malnourished, and the scurrying of rats in the walls kept me awake most nights. Meanwhile, my classmate, Jessica, lived in our house like a princess. She was more of a Pierce than I ever was. It was only after my death that I learned the truth. Jessica was the daughter of my father’s mistress and some other man—a child he pathetically believed was his own, lavishing her with a love I had never known. I picked up the old phone in my room and dialed a number I knew by heart. It connected almost instantly. “Veronica, darling? Is everything alright?” A sharp pain tightened in my chest. In my past life, after my parents’ divorce, I had obeyed my father and never contacted my mother, believing she didn’t love me. But after I died, her hair turned white overnight. She murdered my father to avenge me. Only then did I understand. I had always been in her heart. I fought back the lump in my throat. “Mom, I miss you… Can you come home? And… could I borrow some money…?” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then the sound of something crashing to the floor. Her voice, when it came, was laced with panic. “Veronica, are you in trouble? Did he hurt you?” The sobs I’d held back for two lifetimes finally broke free. Reborn, I would not be a victim again. I would make every single person who wronged me pay. The next morning, I emerged from the basement to find my father and Jessica eating breakfast. The table was laden with a gourmet spread I had only ever dreamed of. My meals were usually worse than what we fed the dog. Jessica saw me and put on a show of kindness. “Veronica, come and eat!” Before I could respond, my father’s face darkened. He slammed his hand on the table. “She doesn’t deserve a damn crumb! Get to school, now. If you’re late, I’ll beat you half to death.” He sneered. “Useless girl, always looking for a handout! Is asking for money all you’re good for?” I felt the blood drain from my face as I caught Jessica’s triumphant, mocking gaze. Without a word, I turned and left. My father was right about one thing; I had to hurry. We lived in a sprawling estate in the suburbs, miles from the school. To build my “endurance,” he forbade me from ever taking a car, forcing me to walk the entire way. In my past life, the daily twelve-mile trek had left me with a permanent disability. Jessica, of course, was always chauffeured in a luxury car. Everyone at school thought she was the Pierce heiress. I walked to the main road, hailed a cab, and settled into the back seat, calmly eating the breakfast I’d bought. Playing by my father’s insane rules? I wasn’t that stupid anymore. I stepped out of the cab just in time to see Jessica gliding out of a gleaming black sedan, a smug look on her face. I ignored her and started walking towards the school gates. Suddenly, she shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled and fell, my hands scraping against the rough pavement. “You took a taxi?” she hissed, her voice low and menacing. “Do you want me to tell your father? Don’t come crying to me when he beats you to a pulp!” My breath hitched. As I tried to get up, one of her bodyguards kicked me squarely in the ribs. Pain exploded in my chest. “Don’t you know who you work for?” I managed to gasp. The bodyguard remained silent, his face a cold mask. Jessica’s eyes flashed with jealousy, but her smirk never wavered. “Oh, please. Your father doesn’t even consider you a Pierce. You’re just trash. A pathetic little reject nobody wants.” With that, she sauntered into the school, surrounded by her fawning friends. My palms throbbed with a fiery pain. It took me a long moment to push myself to my feet. Just wait, Jessica. Your time is coming. The title of Miss Pierce? I wouldn’t want it if you gift-wrapped it for me. In the classroom, everyone was busy with the fundraiser. I limped to my desk. Suddenly, Jessica stood up and dramatically stuffed a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills into the donation box. “It’s our duty to help those in need,” she announced to the room. The teacher beamed at her, and the students murmured in admiration. Then, Jessica turned her gaze directly to me. “Veronica, how much are you donating? If you’re short, I can lend you some.” One of her lackeys immediately chimed in. “Jessica, you’re just too kind. Always doing good deeds.” Another one shot me a contemptuous look. “Not like some people. A millionaire’s daughter who’s too cheap to donate to charity. How selfish can you get?” I stood up. “Is the size of your heart measured by the size of your donation?” Jessica’s friend scoffed. “Oh, right. Coming from a cheapskate like you, who won’t even part with a single penny…” The class erupted in laughter. Even the teacher looked at me with disapproval. “Alright, that’s enough. Veronica, it’s your turn to donate…” I walked slowly to the front, pulled a few hundred-dollar bills from my pocket, and pushed them into the box. Jessica’s face fell. “Where did you get that money?” she demanded. I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Do I need to report my finances to you?” She flushed, suddenly aware of the strange looks she was getting from our classmates, and quickly returned to her seat. After class, Jessica left in her fancy car. I stayed behind to study for a while, waiting until I knew my father would be home, then I called a cab. The moment I stepped through the front door, a vicious slap cracked across my face. It sent me staggering, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. My father’s face was a mask of pure revulsion. “You little whore! Just like your tramp of a mother!” Jessica—no, her mother, Sandra—rushed to his side, tugging at his sleeve with a pitiful expression. “Mr. Pierce, Veronica must not have meant to… she was probably just trying to take a shortcut… finding other ways… to make money…” The insinuation hung in the air, and my father’s rage exploded. He ripped the leather belt from his trousers. “You worthless girl! I’ll teach you!” he roared, the belt whistling through the air. “I’ll teach you to be lazy! I’ll teach you to seduce men!” The leather bit into my skin again and again. Pain radiated through my body, a roaring in my ears. I scrambled to get away, but there was no escape. Finally, his arm tired. He threw the belt to the floor. Sandra immediately started massaging his shoulder, the two of them looking like the perfect father and daughter. My vision darkened. I let the tears well up in my eyes, my voice trembling as I began to sob. “Dad, I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve always listened to you… You told me to be frugal, and I was. I never disobeyed you…” He snorted. “Then where did the money for the donation and the taxi come from?” I hesitated for a calculated second, then spoke in a small, timid voice. “It… it was from Jessica…” Sandra’s face went pale. Jessica, who had been watching from the stairs, rushed down. “Veronica! You can’t just lie like that… When did I ever give you money?” My father’s eyes blazed. “You dare lie to me again? I’ll beat you to death!” I kept my head down, my words choked with tears. “Jessica said she felt sorry for me because I had it so tough… so she gave me a gold chain as a handout. I sold it…” Jessica froze, her eyes wide with panic as she looked at our father. Because I wasn’t lying. Once, to humiliate me, Jessica really had tossed a gold bracelet at my feet like I was a beggar. My father saw the look on her face and understood instantly. He spun around and slapped her so hard she fell to the floor. She cowered there, too terrified to speak. My father’s entire philosophy was built on making me suffer. Anyone who interfered with his “method” was challenging his authority. Jessica giving me money was the one thing he couldn’t tolerate. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Jessica wailed, crawling on the floor. My father turned back to me, his voice cold. “Get back to your room.” I turned, and as I walked away, a slow, triumphant smile spread across my face.

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It was our third wedding anniversary. I got a text from the car wash. The annual pass I’d topped up at the beginning of the month had already been used up. They were asking if I wanted to renew. I looked up at my wife, Sarah, who was massaging my shoulders. “Why are you getting the car washed every single day?” I asked. Her hands tensed for a split second. She laughed it off, a little too quickly. “The new project sites out in the country are all mud tracks. You know how I am about cleanliness.” When I didn’t say anything, she sighed and pulled out her phone, sending me three hundred dollars. “Alright, you big cheapskate, stop the act. I’ll pay for it myself, happy? If you keep pretending to be mad, I’m gonna have to get rough with you.” I didn’t play along like I usually would. Instead, I looked at her, my face a cold mask. “Let’s get a divorce.” 1. Sarah froze. A second later, she draped herself over me, her eyes wide with a practiced vulnerability. “Honey, is this the role-play you want to try today?” she purred. “Can we pick a different one? I don’t like the ‘divorce’ storyline.” As she leaned in, her gaze hazy with allure, I instinctively took a few steps back. “I’m not kidding, Sarah. I want a divorce.” The seductive look on her face hardened. “Are you angry?” she snapped. “Is it because I forgot to get you an anniversary gift? Or because I’ve been working late all month and haven’t spent enough time with you? Can’t we talk about this like adults? Why jump straight to divorce?” I just stared back at her, the silence stretching between us. I knew she was waiting for me to cave, to soothe her like I always did. But not today. After five long minutes, I stood up and grabbed my jacket. A flash of panic crossed her face. She shot up and threw her arms around me, her eyes a desperate mix of seduction and pleading. “Alex, you’re scaring me when you’re this cold. Whatever you want to do, I’ll play along, okay? Just please, don’t be angry.” I pushed her away, disgusted. “This whole act of yours is making me sick.” Sarah stood there, stunned. Then, her shock curdled into furious indignation. “Alex! What the hell is wrong with you today? Divorce? Sick? Don’t tell me you’re humiliating me like this because I used up your damn car wash pass.” My expression didn’t change. “Yes,” I said flatly. “It’s because of the pass. So, will you sign the papers?” Her face was a mask of disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous! I already explained it to you. I can’t show up to work the next day in a car caked in mud, can I? Besides, I sent you the money! You’re the one who didn’t accept it. I’ve been working overtime for a month straight, and you don’t even care. Today is our third anniversary, and I made sure to come home early for you. And what do I get? You throwing a tantrum and trying to solve the problem by getting rid of me…” Seeing her spiral into hysterics, I cut her off. “Look in a mirror. Can you see the difference between yourself and a raving lunatic right now? I’ll send you the divorce agreement later.” With that, I turned and walked out. 2. I had just started the car when Sarah threw herself in front of it, her face streaked with tears. I slammed on the brakes, but I think I still clipped her. She scrambled to her feet and started yanking frantically on the locked passenger door. Seeing her face drain of color, I rolled down the window. Her eyes met mine. She forced a shaky smile. “Honey,” she sobbed, “it hurts so much. Please don’t go. I know you’re just angry! I’m sorry. Whatever I did to upset you, I’ll fix it, I promise!” I stared at her, my face blank. “Move. You’re blocking the road.” When she didn’t budge, I stomped on the accelerator. The roar of the engine sent her scrambling out of the way, her face a mask of pure terror. In the rearview mirror, I saw her collapse onto the pavement, a helpless, broken figure. “Alex, come back! Don’t do this to me…” I looked away and set the GPS for the nearest hotel. Once in my room, I emailed her the divorce papers I’d prepared. My phone, finally quiet, lit up again with her name. A sharp, unexpected pain lanced through my chest. After a moment of hesitation, I switched it to airplane mode and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I saw her the moment I stepped into the hotel lobby. She looked exhausted, her expression a pathetic mix of pleading and submission. Standing behind her were her parents, their faces tight with barely concealed rage. Here we go again. Whenever Sarah and I fought, she’d call in her family for backup. Her father would play the bad cop, her mother the good cop, and her older brother, Daniel, would swoop in as the well-meaning peacemaker. The outcome was always the same: no matter who was right or wrong, I would end up apologizing to Sarah, and we’d make up. But this was different. This was divorce. I had said the word, and today, they were all going to be disappointed. Her father stepped in front of her, his face dark. “Alex. You’d better have a damn good explanation for this.” I met his furious gaze calmly. “Dad, there’s nothing to explain. I’m divorcing Sarah.” Her mother flinched, then took my arm. “Alex, honey, don’t be like that. Your father and I are here to help you two work things out. You haven’t had breakfast, have you? Let’s all go to the restaurant next door, sit down, and talk this through properly.” As soon as we were in a private room, I got straight to the point. “Mom, Dad, the divorce agreement gives the house and car to Sarah. I’ll take the cash.” Her father shot to his feet, but her mother quickly pulled him back down. “Alex,” she said, shocked, “you’ve already drawn up the papers?” “Just calm down. Divorce is a serious thing. Look at Sarah, her eyes are completely swollen from crying all night. What on earth did she do to make you this angry? You tell me, and I’ll sort her out.” I took a deep breath. “Mom, don’t bother. There’s no point.” Tears immediately welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “Honey, what do you mean, ‘no point’?” she whimpered. “Just because I used up your hundred-dollar annual pass, you’re going to throw away everything we have?” “From now on, I’ll give you my entire salary, okay? Just please, don’t say that word. It hurts too much…” My face was stone as I met her gaze. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you? You make me sick.” Her parents’ composure finally cracked. Their faces turned ugly. Just then, the door opened, and Daniel rushed in, looking like he’d driven all night. He surveyed the tense scene, then clapped me on the shoulder with a forced smile. “Hey, what’s with all the long faces? Is everyone just hangry? Come on, brother-in-law, let’s you and I go hurry the food along.” Before I could object, he was pulling me out of the room. 3. Out on the restaurant’s terrace, Daniel offered me a cigarette. “Alright, man, talk to me. What happened? Sarah called me last night, crying her eyes out, saying you’re dead set on a divorce. I asked her why, but she couldn’t give me a straight answer. I told her she must have really pushed your buttons this time, because a guy as easygoing as you wouldn’t just snap like this.” I lit the cigarette, but as I went to speak, my eyes were drawn to a distinct hickey on his collarbone. Daniel was adopted. We’d always gotten along well. He was five years older than Sarah and had a long-term girlfriend, but they’d never married. The story was that her job was top-secret, so she couldn’t be brought around the family. Whenever Sarah and I visited his apartment, we’d often see sex toys left casually on the sofa. He followed my gaze and quickly buttoned the top of his shirt, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Ah, yeah. Girlfriend’s a little clingy, you know how it is. We don’t get to see each other every day. Better hide this from the folks, or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Seeing that look of smug satisfaction on his face, I suddenly lost all desire to talk. I stubbed out my half-smoked cigarette and turned to go back inside. “Let’s go back.” A look of frustration crossed his face. “Alex, wait. You haven’t told me anything. We can’t go back like this. We’re family. Whatever the problem is, we can talk it out!” I let out a bitter laugh. “The feeling’s just… gone.” As I reached the private room, I saw the door was ajar. I could hear his father’s furious voice from inside. “Crying, crying, that’s all you do! He treats you like this, and you’re still trying to win him back? Have some self-respect!” “But he was so good to me before yesterday!” Sarah’s voice was raw and hoarse. “I can’t let him go! I don’t believe he could be this cruel!” Her mother spotted me at the door, her eyes shooting daggers. “Alex, we’ve been good to you since you married Sarah, haven’t we? The house, the car, we paid for them together. We even covered all the renovations. And now you’re going to divorce her over a car wash pass?” Sarah looked up, her tear-streaked face a mess. The moment she saw me, she forced a pathetic, broken smile. “Honey, I was wrong. I promise I’ll never spend another cent of your money. I’ll pay for everything from now on… And I know I haven’t been around enough. Tomorrow, I’ll ask for a transfer to a less demanding department. I promise I’ll be home waiting for you every single day when you get off work. Can we please not get a divorce? I’m begging you…” She looked like she was about to shatter into a million pieces. Daniel’s expression shifted from confusion to outrage. “Alex, you’re divorcing my sister over a car wash pass? What kind of man are you?” 4. Daniel’s face flushed with anger. “People would laugh you out of town! Sarah supported you when you quit your job to figure things out! Have you got no conscience?” He drew back his fist to punch me. But Sarah threw herself in front of me. She took the full force of the blow to her face. Staggering, she braced herself on the table. “Dan, don’t… don’t blame him…” She collapsed before she could finish the sentence. In the next instant, Daniel was scooping her up in a panic and running for the door. His parents shot me a look of pure venom before rushing after him. I looked at the untouched breakfast spread on the table and sat back down. A few minutes later, my grandfather called. The moment I answered, his furious voice exploded from the speaker. “Alex! Are you trying to kill me? What is this nonsense about a divorce? If your in-laws hadn’t just called, I would have never known you were capable of such shameless behavior! I don’t care where you are, get your ass to the hospital right now!” He hung up before I could say a word. I finished my cigarette, paid the bill, and slowly made my way to the hospital. When I got to the room, Sarah’s mother was gently feeding her soup. My grandfather was by their side, offering apologetic smiles to her parents. The second he saw me, he grabbed a nearby broom and swung it hard against my shins. “Alex, have you lost your damn mind? You heartless bastard! Sarah has given everything to our family for years, and what do you do? You throw it all away over a hundred bucks? Did I ever deprive you of anything while raising you? How could you do something so disgraceful?” He didn’t stop swinging. On the bed, Sarah cried out in alarm, struggling to get up. “Grandpa, stop! Don’t hit him! It must hurt! This is the first time he’s ever been like this with me, I must have done something to make him really angry!” “Honey, just say something! Tell me what I did wrong, I’ll change, I promise!” Her mother, her face a mask of disappointment, took the broom from my grandfather’s hands and glared at me. “Look what you’ve done. Your grandfather is almost eighty years old, and you’re still causing him this much stress!” A doctor walked in, frowning. “What is all this commotion? This is a hospital! And you,” he said, looking around at us, “the patient was brought in unconscious after being struck, correct? That’s assault!” He looked at Sarah with sympathy. “Ma’am, would you like me to call the police?” Sarah stared at him for a second, then an irrepressible joy burst into her eyes. “Oh, no, doctor, it’s all a misunderstanding! My family is wonderful, don’t you worry.” The doctor gave her a complicated look, recited a few instructions, and left. The moment he was gone, Sarah stumbled out of bed and, in front of everyone, took my hand and placed it on her stomach. Her face was glowing. “Honey, we’re having a baby. Let’s not get a divorce, okay? We can be a happy family.” 5. The room fell silent. Everyone was waiting for my answer. I pulled my hand away and met her gaze, my expression unchanged. “You’re pregnant? Get rid of it.” “We’ll finalize the divorce as soon as you’re out of the hospital.” The color drained from Sarah’s face. She stared at me in disbelief as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her father lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. “Alex, that’s your child in her belly! Forget this nonsense about divorcing over nothing, but now that she’s pregnant, how can you say something so heartless?” He turned to his devastated daughter and pulled her into a hug. “Honey, if he wants a divorce, he can have one. You and the baby, Dad will take care of you!” I fiddled with my phone, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. “I’ve sent the divorce agreement to the family group chat. If there are no issues, let’s get this over with quickly.” My grandfather was trembling with rage. He stepped forward and slapped me again, just as hard. “Who gave you permission to give up this child? That’s our family’s bloodline! Alex, I’m telling you right now, unless you’re prepared to disown me as your grandfather, this child is a part of our family, and Sarah is staying our daughter-in-law!” I swallowed the blood in my mouth and glanced at my phone again, my voice tight with restraint. “Grandpa, I’m not—” He snatched the phone from my hand. “You and that damn phone! I swear I’m going to smash—” His words died in his throat. His eyes locked onto the screen. In that instant, his towering frame seemed to shrink, to become old and stooped. He stared, wide-eyed, his hand scrolling frantically as his face drained of all color.

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My sister inherited our mom’s rare heart disease, but I was born perfectly healthy without a single defect. After confirming through tests that I was indeed her biological child, Mom locked me in my room for three days. “You freak, you’re nothing like my child. Just go die!” Dad held her lovingly, comforting my sister who was crying hysterically, his eyes full of blame toward me. “You know Vivian and your sister aren’t well. Why are you so inconsiderate?” To distance herself from me, Mom wouldn’t even let me share her or Dad’s last name. She just flipped through a dictionary and randomly gave me a different surname. When I was seven, on Christmas, Dad took Mom and my sister abroad for vacation. They locked the front door from the outside, leaving me alone in the empty house. When hunger reached its peak, I found a desiccant packet and hastily swallowed it. As my stomach churned violently, my heart felt like it was splitting apart. My first reaction was joy. Mom, does this mean I have the same illness as you now?

The desiccant packet had fallen out of my sister’s snack wrapper. I remembered it was a bag of candy, colorful and beautiful, and it smelled sweet. It must have tasted delicious. I had carefully climbed to the edge of the sofa and tugged at my sister’s sleeve, begging her to let me taste just one piece. But Mom stood beside us, looking down at me with a sinister expression. Then without warning, she slapped my face, her tone so cold it frightened me. “Quinn, you don’t deserve it!” Neither she nor Dad had the surname Quinn. It was just a name she’d randomly found in a dictionary and thrown at me. She didn’t stop until my face was swollen and blood dripped from the corner of my mouth. Dad immediately stepped forward, rubbing her hand tenderly. “Honey, why are you getting upset again? You need to take care of yourself. Don’t worry, once Christmas is over, I’ll send her away.” I lay on the floor, already accustomed to this treatment. My sister ate the candy in big bites, accidentally dropping the desiccant packet into the sofa cushions. Now I was chewing the desiccant in big bites too, imagining it was that bag of candy. But the severe pain in my heart and stomach made it impossible to deceive myself any longer. My entire body felt like it was burning, and I couldn’t stop curling up. As consciousness gradually blurred, I used all my remaining strength to crawl back to my room and lay on my bed. It wasn’t really a room, just a storage closet next to the bathroom. And it wasn’t really a bed, just a platform made of wooden boards. I’d secretly been in my sister’s room once. It was big and spacious and fragrant, filled with beautiful dolls. My sister’s bed was big and soft, but I only touched it lightly before Mom made me kneel all night as punishment and forbade me from eating for three days. I cried from hunger and grabbed Dad’s pant leg, asking him why Mom treated me this way. The neighbor lady also had two children—one healthy, one sick—but she always favored the healthy one. I heard she almost sent the sick one to an orphanage. But my family was exactly the opposite. Mom had tried to send me to an orphanage. If the police hadn’t stopped her, I’d probably already be an orphan. I didn’t want Mom to favor me. My sister was sick and did need more attention. I just wished Mom could be a little kinder to me, could share just a bit of the love she gave my sister. Dad frowned as he listened, then pushed me away. “Quinn, I always thought you were just immature. I never imagined you’d want to send your sister to an orphanage! You know your mom and sister aren’t well, and yet… God, you’re such a disappointment!” I knew Dad had misunderstood and desperately tried to explain. But he didn’t give me any chance. He didn’t even look at me. The next second, the door suddenly creaked open. My head was foggy, my attention focused on the bloody taste rising in my throat. I couldn’t tell if this was memory or reality. Until I heard my sister’s cheerful voice. “Mom, Dad, France was so fun, the steak was so good, I want to go again!” I suddenly realized—Mom and Dad had returned from abroad with my sister. I quickly tried to get up to greet them. If I was late, Mom would get angry. But suddenly I realized I was very close to the ceiling. Looking down, I saw my small body on the bed, covered tightly with a blanket. And I was floating in the air, already transformed into a transparent soul.

“Baby, you must be hungry after all this time. Mommy will cook for you right now.” I carefully floated to the kitchen, watching Mom prepare dish after dish of my sister’s favorite foods. I hadn’t eaten in so long. I was drooling with hunger. Dad sat on the sofa watching TV with my sister when he suddenly spoke up. “Hey, where’s Quinn? Why is it so quiet?” Mom’s hands suddenly stopped moving. “Why mention her on such a happy day? She’s probably sleeping late in her room.” Mom, that’s not true. I wasn’t sleeping late. Every day I woke up to clean, scrubbed the toilet until it was spotless. “Didn’t you say you’d get rid of her as soon as possible? I’m telling you, it’s either me or her in this house!” Mom slammed down the kitchen utensil in her hand, her words leaving no room for argument. Then she lowered her head and muttered to herself, “Why is she the normal one? Why!” The tone in her voice made me feel strange. Mom didn’t love me—was it because she favored my sister, or because she was… jealous of me? She’d said these same words before, when I brought home a running award. She stared at my certificate with bloodshot eyes, then grabbed a feather duster and beat my legs viciously. “How dare you run! You know your sister and I have heart conditions and can’t run. Who are you showing off to? Why are you the normal one? Why!” The pain made me cry. I knelt down and begged Mom. “Mom, I won’t run anymore, I’ll never run again!” She acted as if she couldn’t hear my pleas, couldn’t see the flesh torn open on my legs. She kept beating me until I nearly passed out, until my leg bone made a cracking sound. Only then did she stop and call my PE teacher. “Quinn broke her leg. She can never run again.” The PE teacher sighed, “What a shame. The kid had real talent.” A strange smile appeared on Mom’s face as she looked at me with ill intent. “You won an award for a painting too, didn’t you?” I didn’t understand what she meant. I just shrank back, not daring to speak. After my injury healed, Mom took me back to school, called my homeroom teacher, and shouted in front of the entire class. “Quinn’s grades are all from cheating, including that award-winning painting—her sister drew it for her. She’s a shameless thief. Nobody is allowed to play with her anymore!” Then she pulled out my books from my backpack and tore them to shreds, one by one. The friend I used to play with most looked at me with disgust. I gradually lowered my head amid everyone’s condemnation, not even daring to defend myself loudly. The homeroom teacher looked shocked and tried to reason with Mom. But Dad suddenly arrived and pulled Mom into his arms. “Quinn, why are you provoking your mother again? Is this the first day you’ve known she has a heart condition?” At those words, the teacher stopped and didn’t dare approach. Dad pulled Mom’s hand and walked out of the classroom. Before leaving, Mom turned back to look at me with a triumphant expression. I stood there at a loss while my classmates chattered around me. After that, I became a loner, a freak. Any talent I displayed was ruined by Mom. My excellent grades became reasons for her to beat and scold me. Or rather, my very existence was the root cause of Mom’s anger. Thinking of this, I suddenly felt that death was a good thing. At least Mom wouldn’t be angry anymore. At least I wouldn’t be sad about Mom not loving me anymore.

But I was wrong. Watching Mom feed my sister bite by bite, thoughtfully wiping the residue from the corner of her mouth, my heart wrenched violently. Storybooks said that when people die, they lose all sensation. Lies. I could still feel heartache. Halfway through the meal, my sister suddenly pushed open my door, showing off the new necklace around her neck. “Quinn, look! Mom bought me this new necklace. Isn’t it pretty?” I was already used to my sister’s bragging and felt no emotional ripple. My attention was entirely focused on her hands, afraid she’d pull back my blanket and discover I was dead. When my sister realized I wasn’t responding, she pouted unhappily and started crying loudly. Mom immediately appeared, holding my sister in her arms and comforting her softly. Once my sister finally calmed down, Mom expertly grabbed a stick from behind my door—one she kept there specifically for punishing me. “Quinn, don’t think you can lord it over everyone just because you’re healthy! I’ll beat you to death!” But no matter how long she beat me, I showed no reaction. She grew suspicious and pulled back a corner of the blanket. When she saw the vomit from the desiccant I’d swallowed, she was startled. “Well, well, Quinn, you actually vomited in bed! You’re disgusting! Don’t think staying quiet will save you!” Then she called Dad over, her eyes sharp as knives. “Send her away. Right now. I don’t want to see her for another second!” Dad spoke in a gentle, soothing voice. “Okay, whatever you say. I’ve already made arrangements. They’ll come pick her up tomorrow. We just need to endure one more day, okay?” Mom nodded with difficulty, took my sister’s hand, and spoke in a gentle, patient tone. “Baby, ignore your sister. She doesn’t deserve to be Mommy’s daughter. Come on, Mommy will take you out to ride the carousel, okay?” I’d never ridden a carousel. I used to secretly watch my sister ride. I heard it was fun. Too bad I’d never get the chance now. After Mom left with my sister, Dad sat on the edge of my bed, sighing repeatedly. “Quinn, don’t blame your mother. She’s sick, and your sister is sick too. You need to understand her. Actually, she… loves you.” He said those last three words with very little confidence. It was the first time I’d seen Dad cry. I wanted to reach out and wipe his tears, but my hand just passed through his body. He gently took my hand. “Your mom hit you pretty hard just now, didn’t she? Come on, get up, Dad will take you to the hospital.” But Dad, I can’t get up anymore. Seeing my prolonged lack of response, Dad looked puzzled and pushed me, then started to pull back my blanket. I closed my eyes, not daring to imagine Dad’s reaction when he discovered I was dead. But the next second, a phone ringtone rang out abruptly. The voice from the hospital came through. “Sir, your wife had a sudden heart attack and was hospitalized. Your daughter was frightened, and her condition isn’t good either.” Dad couldn’t spare another thought. He abandoned me and rushed out the door. My soul was suddenly pulled by an invisible force, and the next second I was at the hospital. Mom lay in the hospital bed, her face pale. Even at this point, she kept muttering to Dad. “Honey, I don’t have much longer to live. Please send Quinn away immediately, okay? My chest hurts just seeing her!” Mom, your chest won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be angry anymore. I’m already dead. You’ll never have to see me again.

Dad looked at the ceiling with a complicated expression, then called his assistant in front of Mom. “Go to my house right now and take Quinn away immediately. That boarding school I contacted before—I’ll send you the address. The boarding school is in another province. Help Quinn pack extra clothes…” Before Dad could finish, Mom snatched the phone. “Make her stay there for the rest of her life! Don’t let her set foot in this city again!” The assistant quickly agreed and hung up. Only then did Mom calm down and lie back peacefully under Dad’s soothing. Dad sighed and went to ask the doctor about her condition. Passing by my sister’s room, the heartache in his eyes nearly overflowed. Because my sister’s condition looked a hundred times worse than Mom’s. Her face was white as paper, completely lifeless. The doctor called Dad into the office and showed him the diagnosis. “Mr. Carter, your wife’s heart attack was severe this time, but she was treated promptly and should be fine. But your daughter was frightened. She’s very young, and it’s dangerous.” As Dad looked on in despair, the doctor patted his shoulder. “However, we just learned there’s a heart donor that matches your daughter. If you want to proceed with the heart transplant, I’ll arrange it immediately.” Dad nodded repeatedly. “Doctor, yes, please save my daughter.” But Mom appeared behind Dad like a ghost. “Why? Why did I wait all these years for a donor and never get one, but she gets one so young?” Her tone was calm, yet chilling. The doctor patiently explained, “Mrs. Carter, we’re also sorry about this situation, but…” Mom didn’t give the doctor a chance to finish. “No. I won’t allow it!” She was gasping heavily, her eyes bloodshot and obsessive. Then she ran to my sister’s bedside, yanked off the oxygen tube, and shook her small shoulders violently. “I thought you were like me, that you’d always be on my side. But now… you’re just like Quinn. You’re both liars. Neither of you deserves to be my child! You should die. Just die!” I was stunned by this series of events. The mother who just moments ago showered my sister with extreme love, who let her act spoiled, who was willing to sacrifice everything for her. How had she now become this crazed creature? I suddenly realized she didn’t love me or my sister. Or rather, her favoritism toward my sister was built entirely on the foundation of my sister being sick. Mom’s screaming continued. “Why am I the only one in this family who has to suffer? I won’t allow it! I won’t!” As she spoke, she squeezed my sister’s neck with all her strength. My sister’s eyes flew open, unable to believe that the person trying to kill her was her own mother. Mom’s strength was enormous. It took Dad and several medical staff together to pull her away. In the chaos, Dad’s phone rang at the worst possible moment. Dad couldn’t answer and hung up several times. Only after the doctor finally gave Mom a sedative and she calmed down did Dad open his phone. What appeared before his eyes were several photos and a message from his assistant. [Mr. Carter, this is bad. Quinn… she’s dead!]

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The day my brother was diagnosed with vocal cord polyps, an unprecedented argument erupted in our house. Five million in penalty fees, five hundred thousand for surgery. For a family already crushed by my medical expenses, these were astronomical numbers. Mom pointed at me huddled in the corner of the sofa wearing headphones, breaking down in tears: “Why wasn’t he the one who went mute back then? Why does one have to be mute, and the other has to become mute too!” My brother Liam stormed out, slamming the door. Before leaving, his eyes red, he looked at me coldly: “Mara, if I were the beneficiary of that accident insurance policy, how wonderful that would be.” I took off my headphones. There was actually no music playing inside. Ever since that fire five years ago when I rescued my brother, I could no longer make a sound, and my left hand could no longer play the violin. I looked at the “High-Value Accidental Death Insurance Policy” on the table. Dad had bought it years ago, gritting his teeth through the payments, worried that no one would take care of me—a disabled person—in the future. The beneficiary was listed as the legal heirs. I glanced at the bottle of antidepressants hidden in my pocket. I thought, Liam was right. With just one accident, my brother could use the money to cure his voice, and he could use the songs I’d hidden in my violin case to continue shining on stage. This time, I really won’t be a burden to you anymore.

The soundproofing in the house was terrible. The oppressive sounds of argument from the living room seeped through the door crack and drilled into my ears. “Sell the house? Have you lost your mind? If we sell the house, where will the four of us live? Sleep on the streets?” Mom’s voice was shrill and broken, choked with sobs. “Then what do you suggest? Five million in penalties, five hundred thousand for surgery! Even if we sold our old bones, it wouldn’t be enough!” Dad slammed the ashtray down with a clang. “Liam’s voice can’t wait! The doctor said the earlier the surgery, the better the recovery. If we delay and it becomes chronic, his career will truly be over!” “Why is my life so bitter…” Mom’s crying came in fits and starts. “We shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted back then… These past few years treating that mute’s depression, paying for surgery on that useless hand—the family’s savings were completely drained. If we still had that money…” “Enough! Stop it!” Dad sighed heavily. “What’s the point of saying this now? She’s Liam’s biological sister. During the fire, she only got hurt because she was saving Liam…” “What good did saving him do? She’s dragged down the whole family for life!” Mom screamed hysterically. “If I’d known it would come to this, I’d rather have back then…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what she wanted to say. I also knew she wasn’t truly cruel. She was just too tired, too desperate. People bent under life’s heavy burdens always need an outlet. And I was that perfect outlet. By the moonlight streaming through the window, I looked at myself in the mirror. Pale face, vacant eyes—like a wandering ghost in the mortal world. Yes, I was a burden. What value did my existence have besides creating problems for this family? I touched my pocket, where I had a few hundred dollars secretly saved up. It was my private stash, accumulated by deliberately taking fewer pills, scraping together a little at a time. Under cover of darkness, I slipped out to the pharmacy. Standing at the counter, I typed on my phone to show the clerk: [Do you have the best throat-soothing lozenges? The kind that’s handmade and helps relieve vocal cord polyps?] The clerk pulled out a glass jar from the cabinet. “This one’s from an old established brand, made purely with natural ingredients. The effect is especially good, just a bit expensive—over three hundred dollars.” Over three hundred dollars. Nearly all my savings.

Without hesitation, I nodded and paid. Walking back with that heavy glass jar, my steps felt much lighter. I remembered when we were little, Liam loved sweets the most. Every time he caught a cold and coughed, he’d beg for throat-soothing syrup. Back then the family was poor, so Mom could only make it herself, and he always complained it wasn’t sweet enough. This expensive jar I bought—it should be really sweet, right? When I got home, I tiptoed to Liam’s bedroom door. I didn’t dare knock, afraid he’d see me and lose his temper again. I carefully placed the jar of lozenges at his door, positioning it where he’d see it as soon as he opened the door, silently saying: Liam, good night. The next morning, Liam sat at the dining table eating breakfast, his face terrifyingly dark. Mom carefully peeled an egg for him: “Liam, eat something. Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach.” “I’m not eating! I’m full of anger already!” Liam threw down his fork. “I’m already irritated, and first thing this morning I open my door to see that unlucky thing!” My heart lurched. Following his gaze, I saw the jar of lozenges lying in the trash can. “That… the packaging looks pretty nice…” Mom quietly tried to reason with him. Liam let out a cold laugh. “Mom, look at her pathetic state—what good thing could she possibly afford? This kind of product from who-knows-where, do you want me to eat it and ruin my voice?” “What if something goes wrong? Can she compensate for it?” “A mute—being a useless person herself is bad enough, and now she wants to harm me!” He stood up, and as he passed the trash can, he gave it another vicious kick. The glass jar rolled in the trash can, mixing with the dirty water inside, becoming filthy and polluted. Just like my heart—offered to him with good intentions, only to be trampled under his feet with disgust. I stood at the bedroom door, silently closed it, slid down against the door panel to the floor, and pulled out from my pocket the insurance policy I’d already signed. Liam was right. I truly couldn’t compensate. But my life—that should be enough compensation. Since you looked down on that three-hundred-dollar jar of lozenges, Then this five-million-dollar gift—you should be satisfied with that, right? I closed my eyes and revealed a bleak smile. Liam, don’t worry. The best medicine—your sister is already preparing it for you. It was an unusually violent rainstorm. Lightning bolt after lightning bolt struck down, illuminating this crumbling old apartment complex. Another tremendous crash, and the window buzzed and trembled. I lifted my head groggily and through the window saw a silver-gray performance outfit hanging on the balcony. It was Liam’s most treasured piece of clothing, the battle robe he planned to wear for his comeback. Custom-made by hand, covered with Swarovski crystals. To buy this outfit, Mom had scrimped and saved, even cutting off my physical therapy fees for a month. At this moment, that expensive outfit was swaying violently in the wind and rain, about to be soaked through. If this outfit was ruined… I could imagine Liam’s furious reaction, Mom’s breakdown and sobbing, imagine them pointing at my nose and cursing: “Don’t you have any awareness? It’s raining and you don’t know to bring in the clothes? You just sat inside watching it get soaked?” I smiled bitterly. Yes, I was useless, but I still needed to be useful trash with some awareness. Supporting myself against the wall, I stumbled out of my room and pushed open the glass door to the balcony. The fierce wind mixed with icy rain hit my face. I shivered, nearly blown over by the wind. Our balcony was very old. The railing was one of those iron barriers from over a decade ago. A few days earlier, property management had issued a notice saying this batch of railings had safety issues and asked each household to pay attention to repairs. Dad had looked at it and sighed. “Repair what? Replacing a railing costs several thousand. Where does the family have spare money now? Just make do. Just don’t lean on it normally.” Don’t lean on it. I looked at that iron railing swaying precariously in the wind and rain, and suddenly that crazy thought flashed through my mind. Wasn’t this… the perfect opportunity? Heavy rain, slippery ground, an old and damaged railing, a sister trying to save her brother’s expensive performance outfit. Everything was so reasonable. Everything was so seamless. I took a deep breath of the moist air thick with the smell of earth. My chest, which had felt suffocated for so long, actually felt a trace of long-lost relief in this moment. Step by step, I moved toward the edge of the balcony. The rain quickly soaked my hair and pajamas, ice-cold and piercing, yet it made my muddled brain unusually clear. I reached out my hand and grabbed that wildly dancing performance outfit. I held it in my arms, carefully protecting it. The outfit was safely retrieved. Next, it was time to end this. I turned around, my waist against that rust-covered railing. It let out a creak, seeming to tremble under the unbearable weight. I looked at the glittering outfit in my hands, remembering that year when I was twelve, when the fire broke out. I had held little Liam in my arms just like this. Back then I’d said: “Don’t be afraid, your sister will get you out.” Back then I was a hero. And now, I was a burden. But it didn’t matter. Even as a burden, I still had value to burn one last time. The tiles under my feet were very slippery. Following that gust of fierce wind, I shifted all my body weight backward. The sound of the railing breaking was drowned out by the rolling thunder. My body instantly lost its support. The moment the sensation of weightlessness hit, I just held tightly to the outfit in my arms, letting myself fall into the endless curtain of rain. The sound of wind howled in my ears, like a grand symphony. The descent was actually very quick, but in my consciousness, it seemed stretched out for a century. I watched the sixth floor grow farther and farther away from me. Mom, I’m sorry. Your unfilial daughter is going first. That day you said you’d had enough of this life. Don’t be afraid. When the sun rises tomorrow, the nightmare will be over. You’ll never have to worry about money again, never have to sigh looking at this disabled daughter. Liam. The lozenges your sister bought—you threw them away. It’s okay. This performance outfit, your sister retrieved it for you. And that five-million-dollar accident insurance policy, your sister is delivering it to you. You must use it to cure your voice, stand on the biggest stage, and sing the songs your sister wrote for you to the whole world. The intense pain was only momentary. Immediately after came boundless, endless darkness. How wonderful. The world was finally quiet.

The morning after the rain stopped, police cars and ambulances shattered the quiet of the apartment complex. I floated in mid-air, watching that body covered with a white cloth below. That was me. The investigating officer was a middle-aged man. He frowned as he examined the broken section of railing, then looked at the performance outfit I’d protected with my life in my arms. “Preliminary determination is accidental fall.” The officer closed his notebook, his tone carrying a trace of melancholy. “The railing was old and damaged, plus last night’s rain made it slippery. The deceased… should have lost her footing trying to retrieve this outfit.” “Even falling like this, she protected the outfit so well it didn’t get a speck of mud on it.” The officer handed the performance outfit to Liam, who stood nearby in shock. “Take it. This is what your sister traded her life for.” Liam’s hands trembled as he took the outfit. Hearing the word “accidental,” Mom’s legs went weak and she collapsed directly to the ground. “My daughter… why were you so foolish…” She cried heart-wrenchingly. But I could see clearly—in the depths of her tear-blurred eyes was a trace of imperceptible relief.

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