Category: English

One week before the third anniversary of my brother’s death, my boyfriend, Caleb, promised he’d go with me to visit the grave. But on the day of, he ghosted me. That night, I finally got a text: “I had to go out of town for business.” I didn’t reply. I just silently folded my clothes and packed my bags. At midnight, Caleb’s ex-girlfriend, Sarah, posted an update on Instagram. The photo showed Caleb holding a birthday cake, looking at Sarah with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. The caption read: “Twenty-eighth birthday. It’s so good to be remembered by the one who loves you.” I didn’t call him in a rage like I used to. I just screenshotted Sarah’s post and saved it. Then I posted my own update: just three candle emojis. Caleb called me immediately, his voice tinged with guilt. “Don’t be mad, Chloe. I didn’t mean to forget your brother’s anniversary. I promise I’ll remember next time…” Three years ago, my brother took a knife for Caleb, saving his life. Now, Caleb had completely forgotten him, too busy drowning in his ex’s affection. Thinking of this, I spoke slowly, my eyes cold and desolate. “No need. There won’t be a next time.” 1 Caleb didn’t come home until a week later. Before he arrived, he texted me saying he was carsick and wanted my homemade meatballs. Usually, whenever he went on a business trip, I’d have everything ready before he even asked. But this time, I did nothing. When I didn’t reply or call, Caleb called me. “Chloe, where are you? Why aren’t you here?” I was cleaning out the study, tossing things into a box. “I’m busy. Take an Uber.” “Chloe, you always pick me up when I get back from a trip.” His voice was laced with annoyance. I gave a perfunctory reply. “I told you, I’m busy. Are you broke? I’ll Venmo you the fare.” He hung up on me. I walked to the kitchen, pushed down the rising tide of emotions, and started making lunch—for myself. I was mid-meal when Caleb dragged his massive suitcase through the door. He was sweating profusely, the calm, collected facade he usually wore completely gone. He dropped his luggage and went straight to the kitchen. “Are the meatballs ready?” Usually, knowing his stomach issues, I’d keep his food warm on the stove. He opened every pot. Empty. “Chloe, what is this? I told you I wanted meatballs.” “Are you that lazy now? Or do you just not care about me anymore?” In the past, I would have rushed to the kitchen to cook for him. Now, I just took a sip of my hot tea and said indifferently, “I’m tired. Order DoorDash.” Caleb walked over, pulled out the chair next to me, and sat down with a huff. “I know you’re mad because I missed your brother’s anniversary due to the business trip. But I really was busy and forgot. Can you just let me eat first? I’m exhausted.” He looked at me with weary, pleading eyes, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. I finished my tea, stood up, and cleared my dishes. “I’m really not mad.” Caleb wouldn’t let it go. “Police work involves travel. It’s standard. I didn’t want to miss the anniversary, but work is work. I had no choice.” My tone remained flat. “Yeah, I understand.” Seeing my lack of reaction, Caleb deflated, slumping in his chair. “I’m already so tired. Why can’t you just be understanding for once?” “Okay. Go get some rest.” I replied in a lukewarm tone, looking at him like he was a stranger. Honestly, it was boring. It wasn’t a business trip. He went to celebrate his ex’s birthday. And here he was, lying to my face. If he had the guts to do it, why didn’t he have the guts to admit it? But I didn’t have the energy to puncture his pathetic lies. Caleb stared at me, a hint of impatience creeping into his eyes. “You’ve been wanting to see Hamilton for ages, right? I’ll take you tomorrow.” He crossed his arms, looking like he was bestowing a great favor upon me. I didn’t show the joy he expected. I just calmly declined. “No need.” If I hadn’t seen Sarah’s Instagram post this morning, maybe hearing him say this would have moved me to tears. Maybe I would have thrown myself into his arms. 2 Sarah’s post this morning was just a goofy photo of Caleb. The caption: “I mentioned wanting to see a musical forever ago. He said he’d check it out for me this time to see if it’s worth the hype. This man, always so thoughtful!” Caleb looked at me in shock, clearly not expecting my refusal. “No need?” “Why? Did you forget tomorrow is our six-year anniversary?” I acted like I just realized. “Oh, right. I totally forgot.” Caleb’s face darkened. He stood up and walked right up to me. “How could you forget our anniversary? Okay, stop with the attitude. Did you prepare a surprise for me?” I pretended to think. “I’ve been too busy lately, I really forgot. How about this—is there anything you want? I’ll buy it for you.” “Or I can just Zelle you the money. Buy whatever you like.” Caleb looked incredulous. “You’re asking me to buy my own anniversary gift?” He stared at me, a flash of astonishment in his eyes. For years, I had handmade every anniversary gift. Last year, he mentioned wanting a suit made by his girlfriend. I spent six months taking tailoring classes to design and sew a suit for him. The year before, he said he wanted to design our new house himself. I taught myself interior design and decorated the entire place according to his vision. Caleb stood there, looking dissatisfied. I didn’t know how to handle the awkwardness, so I grabbed my coat from the sofa and turned to leave. Caleb grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “I have a portrait session booked.” I shook off his hand and walked out the door, ignoring his angry shout behind me. I majored in Fine Arts. After graduation, I worked as a portrait artist. But after getting together with Caleb, he said he didn’t like me painting other people—it made him insecure. So I gave up the career I loved and switched to drawing webcomics. Now, I was finally going back to what I loved. After the session, the client looked at the portrait with satisfaction. “I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve been waiting for you.” “I’ll refer some friends to you. Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted.” I smiled lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I picked up my phone and saw several missed calls. Some from Caleb, and some from my best friend, Quinn. I ignored Caleb and called Quinn back. “What’s up?” “Megan is back in town. We figured since the girls haven’t been together in ages, we should grab drinks tonight. Can you come? Will your guy let you?” “Sure. Send me the address.” After I started dating Caleb, he first cut off my male friends citing “family values,” then slowly isolated me from my girlfriends, saying he wanted all my time. Considering his busy schedule, I thought he had a point, so I drifted away from my friends. When I arrived, Quinn feigned shock. “Wow, a rare sighting! We actually got the great Chloe to grace us with her presence. Is your hubby gonna be mad?” I smiled and shook my head. “From now on, don’t worry about that. Call me anytime. I’ll be there.” 3 Drinking with my girls, I felt a buzz, my head spinning but my heart lighter than it had been in years. It was the first time I felt this relaxed since being with Caleb. I had devoted my entire being to taking care of him. I gave up my career, my friends, my self. I thought loving someone meant unconditional devotion. Now I realized I was just stupid. I checked my phone for the time and saw Caleb was still calling. I answered. A barrage of complaints poured out. “Where the hell are you in the middle of the night? Don’t you know I worry?” “I’ve been traveling for a week, I’m exhausted. Can you stop causing trouble? Can you stop making me worry?” “You… don’t have to worry.” My speech was slurred. The line went silent for a moment before Caleb’s angry voice cut through. “Have you been drinking?” “Send me the address. I’m coming to get you.” For a second, I felt a flicker of the old hope. Caleb coming to pick me up? But subconsciously, I didn’t want him there. I stayed silent. Quinn leaned into the phone. “Caleb! We’re at The Northern Light Bar.” I glared at her, but Caleb had already hung up. When he arrived, the girls were gone. They left thinking I was in good hands with my boyfriend. They looked at me with envy. But inside, I felt nothing but irritation. Caleb got out of the car, walked up to me, and looked at my drunken state with disdain. “Chloe, what are you doing? I explained I didn’t miss your brother’s anniversary on purpose. Are you done yet? Drinking yourself stupid just to get my attention?” “We’re adults. Playing games like this? Really?” Maybe it was the alcohol, but my mouth moved faster than my brain. “What business trip? I saw it. I saw everything.” “Caleb, am I easy to fool? Is this fun for you?” My head was spinning, my eyes full of pain as I looked at him. Panic flashed in Caleb’s eyes. He looked away unnaturally. “Sarah and I broke up years ago. We’re just friends now. Friends meet up. What’s the big deal?” “Besides, I’m your boyfriend now. You have no reason to be jealous of Sarah!” “You’re overthinking it. I… I’m not jealous.” Caleb turned back to me, anger rising in his voice. “Enough! Sarah and I are just friends. I just happened to celebrate her birthday! Stop being unreasonable! Since I got back, you haven’t asked if I’m tired once. You just throw tantrums!” “I have a temper too, Chloe! Don’t push it!” “Fine. Get in the car. Let’s go home!” I stumbled after him, staring at his back with sorrow. See? That was Caleb. Always twisting the truth, making everything my fault. We drove in silence. Caleb glanced at me several times, but said nothing, his face grim. 4 In the past, whenever we were alone, I would chatter endlessly, sharing every detail of my life. Now, I just wanted out of the car. When we arrived, Caleb followed me. Seeing me stumble, he sighed and reached out to hold me. I sidestepped him smoothly. Using the last of my sobriety, I walked into the house and went straight to the guest bedroom. I lay down before Caleb could react. He followed me in, annoyed. “Why are you sleeping in the guest room? Go back to the master.” I ignored him, turned over, and closed my eyes. Caleb stood by the bed for a long time, but eventually left without a word. My consciousness faded, and I fell into a heavy sleep. The next morning, I was surprised to see Caleb sitting at the dining table. “Up?” “Come eat breakfast!” His tone still carried a hint of anger, clearly still dissatisfied with me. This was the first time in six years he had made breakfast. Before, I would have been moved to tears and eaten every bite. Now, I glanced at the food and felt nauseous. I washed up, went to the fridge, grabbed a slice of toast, and ate it dry. Caleb’s face turned stormy. “Chloe, don’t cross the line!” “What did I do?” I looked at him innocently. When he didn’t speak, I didn’t try to soothe him. I changed my clothes and walked out. I went back to my alma mater. My old professor had contacted me recently about a teaching position at a university in Beijing. I had hesitated, dragging my feet on giving an answer. I thought Caleb and I were finally settling down after all these years. If I moved to Beijing, our relationship would suffer. But now, Caleb wasn’t part of my future. Painting and teaching were my passions. My brother once said I had a natural teacher’s aura. Now, I could pursue what I loved without guilt. My professor was thrilled. He patted my shoulder beaming. “Good! Finally! You agreed!” “But I heard you have a boyfriend of seven years. Is he okay with you moving to Beijing?” I smiled bitterly. “No. We broke up.” After leaving the campus, I went home to pack. As I opened the front door, I heard laughter. I walked in and saw Caleb hugging a woman, smiling brightly. It was Sarah. Clearly not expecting me home so early, Caleb pushed Sarah away, looking flustered. “Uh, Sarah just got into town for business.” “She doesn’t know anyone here, so I invited her over for lunch.” “We were just… hugging. Old friends reuniting.” “It’s fine. You don’t need to explain.” I acted understanding, my tone flat. Sarah greeted me with a smile, a glint of smugness in her eyes. “Chloe, nice to meet you. Caleb always says you have a great temper. I see it now.” I caught the double meaning but was too tired to engage. I smiled and walked toward the kitchen. “Sarah is here. Cook a few extra dishes. Show her your skills.” 5 Caleb stepped forward, acting casual. I poured myself a glass of water and drank it in one gulp. “Can’t today. I’m tired.” “I’ll order takeout for you guys.” Caleb’s face dropped. He glared at me silently. I knew this look. He was telling me he was angry, and if I didn’t obey, he would give me the silent treatment. Caleb was an expert at manipulating me. Before, at the slightest sign of his displeasure, I would fawn over him. But today, I just walked out of the kitchen. Passing Sarah, I smiled and said, “Make yourself at home.” “Caleb, is Chloe unhappy I’m here? Should I leave?” “Ignore her. It’s early menopause or something. She’s crazy. I’ll cook. You need to taste my cooking.” “Lucky me!” I went into the bedroom and started packing. I realized there wasn’t much to take. The closet was stuffed with Caleb’s clothes. Mine were squeezed into a tiny corner. The whole house was full of his things. I gave up on the suitcase. Caleb walked in, looking at the mess with disgust. “What drama are you staging now?” “Where’s the salt?” “Oh. We’re out.” “If we’re out, go buy some. Now.” I looked at him, confused. “Why me? I’m not eating.” For years, I managed everything in the house. He was used to ordering me around like a servant. Caleb looked ready to explode. He yelled, “Fine! Great job, Chloe! I give you an olive branch and you snap it! Let’s see who breaks first!” He stormed out before I could reply. I watched his back, helpless. Why was he always angry? Like I was the one who sinned. “Let’s go, Sarah! We’re eating out. I’m taking you to a bar!” Caleb grabbed Sarah and left, slamming the front door so hard the walls shook. I sat on the bed, perplexed. What was his game? I lay down and scrolled through my phone. A minute ago, Sarah had posted: “I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world. No matter when or where, he’s always there for me.” The comments were full of Caleb’s bros: “That’s real love!” “So jealous. It’s always been him. When do I get a love like this?” One of his friends tagged Caleb: “Did you dump Chloe? The ex is always better, right?” Caleb replied: “Life is good with you here.” To the tag, he just replied with a smirk emoji. His friends never liked me. I knew that. They always made snide comments about how great Sarah was, how perfect they were together. 6 Eventually, I asked Caleb why his friends kept bringing up another woman in front of me. He scolded me, saying they were just joking. Reading the comments, I did nothing. I turned off my phone and went to sleep. Caleb came back with Sarah. She told me, “Caleb drank too much. His stomach hurts. Make him some honey water.” As she turned to leave, she added, “Make sure it’s not too sweet. Caleb hates sweet things.” Caleb woke up, looking at Sarah with pure affection. “Sarah, you remembered.” I watched them, their eyes locked. “So, should I give you guys the room? I can sleep in the guest room?” They both froze. Sarah looked at Caleb, then turned and left. After she was gone, Caleb sat up, glaring at me. “Chloe, what is your problem? Your boyfriend is out drinking with another woman and you don’t even call?” “My friends’ girlfriends pick them up. You? You don’t even check on me?” “Chloe, is this how you love me?” He was tearing up. “Your friends don’t like me. Why would I go there to be humiliated?” “Besides, you had your good friend Sarah. She brought you back. What was there to worry about?” I leaned against the doorframe, genuinely confused about what he was mad about now. He used to stay out late all the time. I used to worry, calling him incessantly. He would hang up or block me. When I tried to pick him up, he humiliated me in front of his friends, saying I was suffocating him. Now that I let go, he accused me of not caring. I really didn’t understand what he wanted. Caleb looked at me in disbelief. “You’re okay with Sarah bringing me home?” I chuckled. “Why not? You’re best friends.” Caleb froze. He stared at me, then suddenly laughed. “Did you see Sarah’s post? You’re jealous, aren’t you?” “Come on, the post was just a Truth or Dare penalty. Don’t overthink it.” He smiled, looking relieved. “Sarah hasn’t been back in years. It’s natural I treat her. I planned to cook at home, but you didn’t buy salt, so we went out.” “Right. My fault.” “My fault for not breaking up with you sooner.” “Caleb, let’s break up.”

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I walked out of the airport, jet-lagged after a month-long business trip, only to find a colossal, sparkling “Mr. & Mrs.” decal plastered across the front door of my condo. Outside the threshold, two pairs of men’s shoes—one expensive, one cheap and worn—sat like sentinels. I was reaching for my phone, sure I had the wrong floor, when the door swung open from the inside. Maddie’s younger brother, Brandon, was standing there, holding a trash bag. He looked perfectly calm, almost bored. “Oh, hey, Ryan. Back already?” He saw the question in my eyes. “Oh, yeah, about this,” he gestured vaguely at the gaudy decal. “Wedding was last week. They didn’t have a place, so Maddie—uh, your fiancée—said they could crash here. Just for a bit. You don’t mind, right?” 1 I stared at Brandon. He casually pulled the door shut behind him, not making any move to invite me inside, or even let me put down my carry-on. A slow-burning fuse lit inside my chest. I swallowed the fire. “You got married a week ago? I hadn’t heard anything from your sister.” Brandon scratched his head. “Yeah, well, you were out of the country, man. Maddie said there was no point telling you until you got back.” He then lifted his phone. “Oh, and by the way, don’t forget to Venmo the gift money. Maddie said you’re family now, so anything less than ten grand would be pretty cheap.” The elevator dinged down the hall. Brandon practically shoved himself toward it. “Gotta run, man. Meeting someone. Catch you later. Don’t forget the check.” As the polished steel doors slid shut, the full, absurd gravity of the situation hit me. They had commandeered my home. Where was I supposed to live? I walked to the door, my heart pounding in my ears, and typed in my old security code. ACCESS DENIED. Of course. I was a fool. They had occupied my house; they had changed the locks. I kept my hand pressed to the cold steel of the door and dialed Maddie’s number. She answered on the third try, her voice sharp with irritation. “What is it?” “Maddie. Did you loan our engagement condo to your brother?” My voice was tight. “How could you do something this big without discussing it with me?” “And, since they’re in my house, where, exactly, am I supposed to be staying?” My rapid-fire questions were met with a minute of dead silence. Finally, she spoke, her tone defiant. “It needs discussion? Brandon’s my brother. He’ll be your brother-in-law. He needed a place for the wedding. What’s the big deal?” “And besides, you’ve been out of town. How was I supposed to tell you?” That was laughable. I’d been on a business trip, not in prison. We had video-chatted nearly every night, and not once had she mentioned Brandon’s wedding, let alone the notion of giving him the keys to the condo. “Look, stop making a fuss. Doesn’t your company have some temporary corporate apartment for you? Just stay there for a few days.” Before I could protest, she claimed she had a meeting and hung up, leaving me standing alone, amidst the discarded cardboard boxes and the mocking sparkle of the “Mr. & Mrs.” decal. 2 Maddie and I had been together for two years. I knew she had a younger brother. But she had always distanced herself from the archetype of the Brother-Martyr—the woman who drains herself financially and emotionally for an entitled sibling. She used to talk about how she couldn’t respect women like that—the ones who allowed their hard-earned money to disappear into a black hole of brotherly need. I’d never once worried she was that woman. Until now. I let out a bitter, exhausted laugh. This condo—my parents had bought it for me outright. I had spent the last year overseeing a forty-thousand-dollar renovation, pouring money into the absolute best, most modern finishes, all based on her exacting tastes. I remembered the tour we gave her friends when the renovation was finished, Maddie clutching my arm, eyes shining as she pointed and planned. “We’ll put a cozy reading nook here, with that velvet chaise, and an espresso bar over there. The third bedroom is going to be the perfect nursery one day.” I was happy, filled with a simple hope for our future. I never imagined that instead of planning our wedding, I’d be dealing with Maddie loaning out my property to her brother—and then expecting me to downgrade to a corporate extended stay. A shared, temporary apartment—a grim place only interns or people running from financial disaster ever used. I owned a gorgeous condo. Why the hell should I go sleep on a pull-out sofa somewhere else? I couldn’t take it anymore. I hailed a cab and headed straight to Maddie’s office, determined to wait for her to clock out. 3 My timing was perfect. I was barely out of the car when Maddie and a colleague emerged from the lobby, laughing brightly. The smile evaporated the moment she saw me. She strode up to me, her expression hardening into a frown. “What are you doing here? I thought you were exhausted from your trip. Why aren’t you at that corporate place unpacking?” I grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly toward an alcove by the building’s side entrance. “How could you loan my condo to your brother without my consent? It’s my name on the deed. He and his fiancée can’t afford a place? Fine. Tell his parents to buy one. Why is he living in mine?” Maddie yanked her arm back, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Ryan! Do you hear yourself? He is my brother! He came to me, his sister, because he was in a bind, and of course I was going to help! It’s only temporary! It’s not like they’re keeping it, so why are you making such a scene? And why are you coming down to my office to yell at me?” Temporary loan? I laughed, a raw, humorless sound. “Did I say he could borrow it? Did I agree to loan it?” Maddie rolled her eyes, the sheer contempt on her face making my stomach clench. “It’s our engagement condo, Ryan. If I agree, that’s all that matters.” Her arrogance was staggering. The condo cost over half a million. My parents paid 100%. The renovation was forty thousand—I paid 100%. Maddie had contributed nothing but endless, expensive opinions. She had zero financial stake. On what basis did she believe she could make this decision for me? “Maddie, I don’t care what bind your brother is in. You have three days to get him and his new wife out of my condo. If they are not gone by then, I will call the police to have them removed.” “Ryan, are you insane? That’s my brother! Are you actually trying to sabotage his marriage?” “Do you even want to marry me?!” Hearing her furious roar, a strange, cold calm washed over me. The emotional storm faded into clear, logical certainty. This marriage, definitely, wasn’t happening. 4 It was the first time I had ever left a fight with Maddie—just turned my back and walked away while she was still yelling. I took a cab to a clean, mid-tier hotel near my office. This would have to do for a few nights. On the way, my phone was blowing up. Call after call from Maddie—I ignored them all. Then came the barrage of texts. [Ryan, are you seriously sick? He’s my brother! His fiancée said they had to have a place. Are you trying to make him homeless?] [Ryan, he’s my brother, and he’s your brother! What’s wrong with giving your own family a hand?] [We weren’t getting married for a while anyway! They’ll be out long before we ever set a date.] *[I put so much work into that place—the designs, the endless hours picking materials. How dare you say it’s only yours?] * [I knew you were cold, but this is a new low! If you try to remove my brother, we are over!] She also left several sixty-second voicemails. I didn’t listen to them. I put her on Do Not Disturb. I honestly didn’t understand. She had seemed normal for two years. A model partner. Why had she transformed into this irrational, entitled stranger the moment I left town? I finally collapsed onto the crisp hotel bed, the exhaustion of the trip and the confrontation hitting me at once. I was asleep instantly. It was a deep, quiet sleep that only ended when my alarm clock went off. I reached for my phone. 99+ messages. Over 100 missed calls. All from Maddie, her mother, and her father. The family siege was in full swing. As I was getting ready to start the day, another call came in. Brandon. I sighed, but answered. 5 A roar erupted from the speaker. “Ryan, what the hell is wrong with you? My sister lent me this place! It was her wedding gift from you! And now you’re trying to take it back?” “Why the rush? You and Maddie aren’t getting married for years! You have a massive income, man! Just get a rental! Are you seriously telling me you can’t afford a security deposit?” “My sister spent all that time and effort decorating that place! And you just walk in, claiming it’s yours? You have no shame! Maddie was blind to pick a guy like you!” “And don’t think you can threaten us with the cops. We’re not scared of you!” “I’m not moving out! You call the police, I dare you!” He hung up before I could utter a single word. I shook my head, setting the phone down. They truly believed they were entitled to stay. They would not move voluntarily. I showered and headed into the office. I met with my director and reviewed my successful trip. My boss was thrilled. “Great work, Ryan. Mr. Zhang is retiring next quarter. The position is yours. You’ll be the new Department Head.” I felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing the domestic drama out of my mind. My income was about to double. I nodded, suppressing a smile. A much-needed victory. I spent the next three days in a productive frenzy, working late and sleeping at the hotel. Maddie didn’t contact me again, nor did she show up. I knew why. In the past, no matter who was at fault, I was always the one who eventually gave in and apologized. She was the woman, after all. She had told me countless times that a man needed to coax and pamper a woman, regardless of the issue. Now I knew better. She wasn’t just “sensitive.” She was utterly shameless. 6 On the evening of the third day, I sent Maddie a single text. [The three days are up. I will be at the condo tomorrow to take possession. If your brother has not vacated the premises, do not blame me for the consequences.] The phone rang instantly. It was her. “Ryan, are you trying to ruin everything? I told you, he’s my brother! What’s wrong with him using our engagement condo for a little while?” “It’s only for two or three years! They’ll definitely give it back when we get married!” “Why can’t you just see reason? We aren’t rushing to the altar, and the condo is just sitting there empty. Why can’t we let him stay?” Empty? I was supposed to be living there! And the timeline was a complete reversal. I had told her the plan was to get married as soon as the twelve-month curing period for the renovations was complete. She had agreed. Now she was pushing it back three years? I was thirty-three, she was thirty. How long was she planning to drag this out? [I’m done discussing this. If the condo isn’t vacant tomorrow, face the consequences.] “Ryan, what the hell is your game? Are you seeing someone else? Is that why you’re picking a fight?” “I knew it! You suddenly start traveling for a month? You were probably shacking up with your little girlfriend!” “Listen to me, Ryan. If you broke up with me because you cheated, you have to walk away with nothing! This condo is mine!” My mind short-circuited. My native language was suddenly speechless surprise. I travel for work, therefore I’m cheating. And because I cheated, I have to forfeit the house my parents paid for. I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. Thank God we hadn’t made it to the altar. My life would have been ruined. 7 I simply couldn’t continue the conversation. After a few more futile seconds, I hung up. Why hadn’t I seen this level of irrationality and self-serving entitlement before? The next morning, I checked out of the hotel and drove to my condo. The garish decal was still on the door. The two pairs of shoes were still outside. Clearly, they had dismissed my warning entirely. I knocked. No answer. They must have gone to work. I pulled out my phone and dialed the non-emergency police line. Two officers arrived quickly. I explained the situation: people were squatting in my property, they had changed the access code, and they refused to leave. I presented the officers with the deed to the condo, clearly showing my name as the sole owner. One officer frowned and called Brandon’s number. Brandon hung up, thinking it was a scammer. The officer then called Maddie’s mother. She sounded terrified when she heard the police on the line and arrived within minutes. When she saw me standing next to the two officers, she lunged, her face contorted with rage. “You ungrateful—! Your brother-in-law needed a place for his wedding! Why use the police? Haven’t you any shame?” I leaned in, meeting her glare. “Go ahead, hit me. Do it right here, in front of the officers. I’d love to have you spend the night in a holding cell.” She stomped her foot, defeated, and pulled out her phone to call Maddie. “Get over here now! Your husband is calling the police on your brother! If you don’t come, your brother and I are going to jail!” The call ended. The officer instructed her to open the door. Reluctantly, she entered the code. The door opened, and the sight inside made the blood drain from my face. 8 My custom-made, twelve-thousand-dollar Italian leather sectional was gone, replaced by a cheap, uncomfortable corduroy sofa. The expensive cashmere-blend throw I’d bought was swapped for a thin, polyester knock-off. The eight-thousand-dollar custom stone dining table was replaced by a flimsy wooden one. The high-end, ergonomically designed dining chairs were plastic stacking stools. As I walked further in, the rest of the condo was the same: the high-end robot vacuum, the expensive washer-dryer set, the smart refrigerator, the motorized bed, even the smart toilet—all replaced with the cheapest possible, off-brand alternatives. My temples throbbed. I pointed to the room, my voice shaking with cold fury as I looked at Maddie’s mother. “Where are the appliances and furniture I bought? The original ones?” Maddie’s mother avoided my eyes, muttering guiltily. “How should I know? You’re the one who bought them!” “Don’t lie!” I shouted, the sound echoing in the half-stripped condo. I remembered the renovation. I had suggested buying cheaper items because I was running low on cash after paying for the build-out. Maddie had insisted on the most expensive options, saying, “We’ve spent this much, what’s a little more? It has to be perfect.” But when I asked her to pitch in for the furniture, she’d scoffed, claiming it was tacky for a man to ask his fiancée to furnish a house that was solely in his name. I did it her way. Now, my entire condo had been stripped and replaced, and I hadn’t even spent a single night here. I turned to the police. “I want to press charges. The value of the items they removed and sold is easily over one hundred thousand dollars. They either return them immediately, or they pay me the equivalent value.” Maddie’s mother tried to grab my face again, but I backed away, two steps, out of reach. These people were immune to shame. Half an hour later, Maddie arrived, breathless. She saw me, saw the police, and her face immediately twisted in annoyance. “Ryan, how long are you going to keep this up? I told you, my brother is only using it temporarily. They’ll move out before the wedding.” I laughed, the sound cold and dangerous. “Oh, and when is that? When are we getting married?” Maddie held up five fingers, then hesitantly tucked two back. “Three years. We’ll get married in three years.” “Ryan, you’re in a serious career-building phase. You need to focus on your job, not on settling down. A man needs to prioritize his career!” I couldn’t believe her audacity. I was thirty-three, soon to be thirty-four. I had worked tirelessly, saving up a substantial sum before I even turned thirty. I had bought and renovated this house for our marriage. And now, she was saying I had to wait three more years—during which I would lend my property, rent-free, to her entitled family. Was I a complete idiot? 9 I looked at Maddie, immaculate in her work clothes, perfectly made up, and felt a profound sense of alienation. She was a stranger. She shifted under my cold stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Maddie,” I said quietly, “I bought and renovated this house to get married.” She sighed, exasperated. “I said we’d get married! We’re just pushing the timeline back. Why are you so desperate to tie yourself down?” I was desperate. I craved stability. I was a traditional man at heart—I wanted a wife, kids, and a warm home. I worried that if I waited much longer, I might miss my chance. Seeing my silence, Maddie seemed to think she had won. She took a step back, folding her arms. “Fine! We’ll get married sooner, alright? But Brandon just got married, so this place is off-limits for his first few years.” “Here’s the deal. This condo stays Brandon’s for a while. You go tell your parents to buy another one for us. You can take out a mortgage; you have the income to handle the payments.” I actually burst out laughing. My parents buy another condo? Were they running a private mint? Maddie’s mother immediately jumped in. “Ryan, see? My daughter is compromising! Why are you still holding out?” “A house is just a thing. You can live anywhere! If your parents don’t have the money, they should borrow some!” “Also, remember the dowry we agreed on? Twenty-eight thousand dollars, plus you pay for the venue and all the liquor. We’ll discuss the ring later.” “If you agree to all this, call your parents now. Once you have a second condo for us, we can talk about a date.” The calculation, the naked greed on both their faces, made me nauseous. Even the police officer standing nearby shook his head. “Ma’am,” the officer interjected, “you’re asking your daughter’s fiancé to give up his home, and asking his parents to buy another one. Houses aren’t that easy to buy.” Maddie’s mother sniffed. “He wants to marry my daughter. Of course, it costs money! You don’t get a wife for free!” At that moment, Brandon returned. He saw the open door and the two officers, and he charged at me, landing a hard punch to my jaw. “You sick son of a—! You actually called the cops!” I fell back, stunned. The two officers immediately grabbed Brandon and pinned him to the wall. “Assaulting someone in front of officers! You’ve got nerve!” Brandon fought them, yelling obscenities at me. “Ryan, if you let my wife find out this isn’t my house, I will end you! This is my sister’s engagement house! What’s wrong with me staying here?” “What’s wrong,” I gasped, rubbing my jaw, “is that it’s my house. And my name is on the deed!” I glared at Brandon. “Where are the original electronics and furniture?” Brandon looked genuinely confused. “How would I know? When I moved in, it was all this stuff!” My eyes flicked to Maddie. She looked down instantly, avoiding my gaze. The confirmation I needed. She had insisted on the most expensive stuff, not because she loved it, but because she planned to flip it for profit the moment I left. I pointed at them both. “Officers, I am not accepting mediation. Brandon broke in, refuses to leave, and now he’s assaulted me.”

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The night before my grandmother’s surgery, I dragged my adoptive father into the study to review medical research all night long. Why? Because in my past life, when Grandma had a heart attack, the “real” daughter, my sister, demanded to take over my position as lead surgeon and perform the heart transplant herself. Considering she had only attended nursing school for three years, I refused. She felt humiliated. To prove herself, she impersonated me and operated on Grandma. The next day, Grandma died on the table from severe rejection and ruptured blood vessels. Afterward, she threw herself into our father’s arms, sobbing: “Daddy, I never thought Emily would be so afraid of me stealing her spotlight that she’d break hospital protocol and operate on Grandma in the middle of the night!” Before I could explain, my adoptive mother jumped in. “Emily, you murderer! Just because Grandma supported Chloe doing the surgery, you sabotaged it and killed her!” Enraged, my father pushed me out of a 36th-story window. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Chloe demanded to perform Grandma’s surgery. 1. “Emily, Grandma’s surgery is so important. Just let me do it.” “Your skills aren’t that great anyway. If something happens to Grandma on the operating table, can you take responsibility?” Chloe held onto Grandma’s arm, looking at me with triumph in her eyes. Hearing that familiar voice, I realized I had been reborn to the day before the surgery. Thinking of the feeling of falling from a great height in my past life, I couldn’t help but shiver. “No, absolutely not.” Before I could finish, a cup smashed against my forehead. “Do you have a say here?! Chloe is the true daughter of the Carter family. She’s filial and wants to operate on her grandmother. What’s wrong with that?” “Don’t think just because you occupy Chloe’s place, you’re really a Carter.” My adoptive mother, Mrs. Carter, sat elegantly on the sofa, not even bothering to look at me. Grandma was even more furious. “Chloe has been away from us since she was little, yet she still became a fine doctor. Much better than you.” “Now that my own granddaughter wants to operate on me, what right does an outsider like you have to speak!” Chloe looked aggrieved. “Emily, you only got to be Chief Resident because of the Carter family name. You don’t have real talent.” “Grandma is so sick. I’ve found a new surgical plan. Don’t delay Grandma’s treatment just because of your petty jealousy.” I looked at the three of them with anger. I had intended to stop Chloe, but it was clear they wouldn’t believe a word I said. I clenched my fists. 2. In my past life, as soon as Chloe was found and brought home, she volunteered to replace me as the surgeon when she learned Grandma needed an operation. I secretly investigated and found out Chloe had only attended nursing school for three years and almost didn’t graduate due to truancy and fighting. For the sake of the family’s reputation and Grandma’s life, I refused without a second thought. Chloe thought I was greedy for the inheritance and argued with me before taking Grandma to the hospital herself. I assumed they would listen to medical advice, so I didn’t tell my father. The next day, I arrived at the hospital on time. But at the operating room door, my father slapped me across the face. “You ungrateful wretch! Your grandmother is dead. Are you happy now?” Before I could process this, Chloe threw herself into his arms. “Daddy, I never thought Emily would be so afraid of me taking her position that she’d operate on Grandma in secret last night!” “She didn’t even tell us the surgery failed. Grandma didn’t even get to see you one last time.” I couldn’t believe it. Grandma never liked me because I was a girl, often making me kneel in the family chapel. After Chloe returned, she hated me even more. If it weren’t for the fact that she raised my father alone, and the surgery was highly complex, I wouldn’t have taken the case. But I had slept all night. I hadn’t operated on anyone. Before I could defend myself, Mrs. Carter started accusing me. “Emily, I can’t believe you’d murder your grandmother just because she was strict with you.” “You’re an animal! Is this how you repay us for raising you?” My father, eyes bulging with rage, strangled me. “Die!” Choked to the brink of unconsciousness, I was then thrown out the window. After death, I learned the truth. Chloe, fearing I would succeed, convinced Grandma and Mom to let her operate early. When she botched it, she blamed me. My father, unable to accept his mother’s death, hated me. After killing me, the police arrived. My father was sentenced to death, and the family fortune fell into the hands of Chloe and her mother. And the reason Chloe was so desperate to operate? She wasn’t the real daughter! She wanted to eliminate both of us before the truth came out. None of them were innocent. In this life, I would make them pay in blood. 3. I took a deep breath and tried one last time, for the sake of my professional ethics. “Chloe has no experience. She’s lying.” “If you do this surgery properly, you can live for another three years.” Grandma sneered. “With your half-baked skills, you dare to operate on me? Just you wait.” Leaving that threat, the three of them left for the hospital. It was late. They wanted to do the surgery before my father came home and stopped them. Watching them leave, a glint appeared in my eyes. If Chloe wants to impersonate me, I’ll spend the entire night with my father. Let’s see how she explains that! I went upstairs, grabbed some files, and headed to my father’s study. My father, Robert Carter, was deeply devoted to his mother. He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Seeing me, his face darkened. “Why aren’t you asleep? Your grandmother’s surgery is tomorrow. You need to be rested!” I acted startled and showed him the report. “Dad, the hospital just sent over Grandma’s latest test results. I wanted you to see them.” Robert’s expression softened. “Dad, the report shows Grandma’s condition is excellent. She can come home a week after the surgery.” “Then we can all be together. She’ll be so happy.” Robert couldn’t hide his joy. He grabbed my shoulders, tears in his eyes. “That’s wonderful. Your grandmother had a hard life. If you cure her, you’re the hero of this family.” He pulled me into the study. “Tell me everything. Are there any other changes?” I smiled inwardly. The happier he is now, the angrier he’ll be tomorrow when he learns the truth. Nothing fuels rage like destroyed hope. I will return every bit of pain Chloe caused me. Robert asked about every data point on the report. He held my hand earnestly. “Emily, you’re a good child. If you cure Grandma, I won’t mistreat you.” “You’ll have an equal share with Chloe. Half the company shares will be yours.” I shook my head shyly. “Dad, saving Grandma is enough for me.” “Chloe just came back. She’s the real daughter. Don’t be too good to me.” Robert looked thoughtful but didn’t press further. “Dad, it’s about time. Let’s go to the hospital so I can prepare.” Robert nodded and had the driver take us. I changed into my scrubs. As I reached the ward door, a figure rushed at me. “You bitch! You killed Grandma!” 4. The commotion drew a crowd. Chloe looked at the gathering audience with a flash of satisfaction. She pointed at me, crying pitifully. “Emily, I never thought you could be so vicious. Just because Mom and Dad found out you aren’t their biological daughter and brought me back, you killed Grandma?” “Grandma trusted you, but you were afraid I found a better surgical plan, so you operated secretly and killed her!” Chloe’s hysterical crying won her sympathy. People started whispering. “She looks like a doctor, but she killed her own grandmother!” “Rich family drama. Who knows what’s true.” Just then, Robert, who had been dealing with a call in the car, arrived. “What’s going on here?” Chloe threw herself into his arms. “Daddy! Emily was afraid I’d take her job, so she violated protocol and operated on Grandma last night!” “She failed and didn’t tell anyone. Grandma died without seeing you.” “Grandma was crying for you at the end. Emily is evil!” Robert shook, his face pale. “Impossible. She was fine yesterday.” “Chloe, don’t talk nonsense!” Just then, Mrs. Carter wheeled a gurney out. “Honey, come look. Mom died so miserably.” “Chloe told me she found a better plan, but Emily, that vicious girl, operated early to stop her.” “If she wasn’t afraid of losing her status, Mom wouldn’t have died on the table from massive hemorrhaging.” She lifted the white sheet. A pale, stiff face was revealed. Robert’s eyes reddened. He threw himself at the bed, hands trembling as he pulled the sheet further down. “Mom… I brought Emily. She said you’d live a long time…” He froze. Grandma’s chest was a mess of blood and sutures. Robert clenched his fists until they cracked. Chloe added fuel to the fire. “Dad, it was Emily! I told her I found a better plan, and she scolded me.” “She was afraid I’d cure Grandma, so she snuck in and operated.” “Grandma died from ruptured vessels. A normal surgery wouldn’t end like this. It was sabotage!” Chloe looked at me provocatively. She thought I was dead meat. But the next second, Robert was strangling her.

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The third Valentine’s Day since Killian and I separated. I found him in the downtown piazza, lighting a spectacular burst of fireworks for his mistress. Our eyes met across the crowd, and for a fleeting, agonizing second, the world fell silent. Jules, my childhood friend, pulled me close. He pressed a freshly purchased hot latte into my hand and steered me through the throng, his arm a solid, grounding weight around my waist. That night, well after midnight, I heard the faint snick of the lock turning. I didn’t have time to react. Killian Thorne was in the room. He slammed the door, crossed the floor in three strides, and tackled me onto the bed, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of my shoulder. He bit down—not playfully, but savagely, until the metallic taste of blood filled the air. “Three years,” he spat, hovering over me. “Three years I’ve been gone, and you couldn’t wait to parade your lover in front of me? Don’t forget, Genevieve, we’re still married.” I drove the heel of my palm into his face, the sound sharp in the darkness. I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “You forget,” I countered, the sting in my cheek secondary to the one in my chest. “It was your idea for the ‘open’ marriage.” … Killian backed away, his silhouette looming by the corner of the bed, the scarlet mark of my handprint faintly visible in the gloom. I sat against the headboard, catching my breath. We were locked in a stalemate, two exhausted boxers refusing to drop their guard. Then his phone chimed. “Killian, I miss you…” His posture softened instantly. He glanced at me, a flicker of something—pity? ownership?—in his eyes, and walked to the balcony to answer the call. Through the glass doors, the tenderness on his face, the genuine sweetness in his smile, pierced me with the force of a thousand needles. I tasted the coppery tang of blood rising in my throat, which I quickly swallowed. He finished the call, extinguishing his cigarette and letting the last plume of smoke drift toward my face. “Aria is scared of the dark. I have to go.” He picked up his coat. “I’ll let this slide. Don’t try those pathetic games of trying to make me jealous, Mrs. Thorne.” “Killian,” I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. “Let’s get a divorce.” I slid the pre-signed papers across the nightstand. I watched him, my face a mask of weary calm. He paused, then his eyes filled with familiar mockery. “I came back, didn’t I? Is this some dramatic performance?” “I told you, no one is a threat to the ‘Mrs. Thorne’ title. You shouldn’t be so intolerant of Aria.” “Genevieve. Cut the games and take the win.” I ignored him, picking up my pen and signing my name on my copy. Seven years. I was simply exhausted. The smile vanished from Killian’s face. He strode forward, his fingers clamping down on my forearm. “Is this because of Jules? You want to leave me for him?” The ache in my wrist was nothing compared to the shards of glass tearing at my heart. My silence only intensified the fury in his eyes. After a long, torturous moment, he released me and let out a chilling, empty laugh. “You’re truly desperate for my attention, aren’t you? Don’t waste your time, Genevieve.” He flung my arm away and left without a backward glance. I sank to the floor, finally unable to suppress the blood that rose in my chest. It pooled onto the pristine white rug, a stark, wilting rose. Today was our seventh wedding anniversary. [NEWS ALERT: Thorne Corp CEO Killian Thorne and his beloved wife, celebrated concert pianist Ms. Aria Bellweather, personally presided over the groundbreaking ceremony for the 99th school they have jointly sponsored, a symbol of their enduring love…] [Aria Bellweather wins the prestigious International Gold Medal again! CEO Thorne took the stage himself to present the flowers…] [To celebrate Ms. Bellweather’s birthday, Mr. Thorne has commissioned a three-day, non-stop fireworks display over Ashford City!] No matter what channel I surfed, the screens were filled with the public celebration of Killian and Aria’s romance. Killian, immaculately suited, presented flowers, his eyes filled with a softness I hadn’t seen in years. Aria, blushing and demure, nestled into his embrace. It was jarring. I’d only seen that look on him once—seven years ago, when he placed his hand over his heart and swore: “I pledge my life to send Gen flowers forever, to protect her all my days!” The audience in the broadcast clapped and cheered. “When did Mr. Thorne remarry? I thought Mrs. Thorne looked different?” a small voice muttered, causing a brief silence. Aria looked up at the camera, her eyes welling up with tears in a perfect display of delicate distress. “There has only ever been one wife for me, from the start, and it is you!” Killian declared, his face radiating devotion. He slipped a diamond band onto her finger. This declaration solidified Aria as the true Thorne matriarch in the public eye. The camera zoomed in on the rings, their hands tightly clasped. My numb heart clenched. My eyes locked onto the screen. That ring. We had personally designed that wedding band in the second year of our marriage when our love was at its peak, and he had spent a fortune having a master jeweler craft it. Now, it was on the hand of another woman. Step by step, Killian had replaced me. He had transformed Aria into a renowned pianist, the one who would stand beside him, the legitimate Mrs. Thorne. When did it begin, this slow, insidious process? The first time I saw Killian, he wasn’t the powerful CEO. He was a desperate, shivering creature struggling in the dirt, starving. It was a brutally cold winter night. He was wearing a threadbare t-shirt, pinned to the ground and beaten for stealing a cold, stale piece of bread. His body was a mass of cuts and bruises. I felt pity and told my driver to save him. I thought it was a single act of charity, but it set the gears of fate in motion. Years later, I finished a concerto and found him working as catering staff in the performance hall. A pair of thugs burst in, smashing a bottle over his head. “You little bastard! You think you can run from me? I’ll kill you today!” Red wine mixed with his blood, splattering his face as the punches rained down. A shrill woman spat at him, cursing. They were his parents, trying to force him to quit school and work. He refused, trying to earn his own tuition, only to be found and beaten again. I begged my father to finance his education. Soon after, the financial prodigy, Killian Thorne, emerged. My father, recognizing his raw talent, sent him overseas for advanced study and opened his network to him. Killian started his own company and quickly became Ashford City’s new power broker. When Hartley Inc. faced an internal financial crisis, Killian abandoned his flourishing overseas business and returned to help my father without demanding a penny. “Without you and Gen, I would be nothing,” he told us. “From this day forward, it is my life’s mission to protect the Hartleys and Gen.” Killian’s promise was fierce and unwavering. For years, he was my guardian. When I was kidnapped, Killian single-handedly came for me. The thugs taunted him, threatening to throw me into the ocean unless he cut off his own finger. Without a moment’s hesitation, he severed his left pinky finger. The police arrived shortly after, and he took a bullet, collapsing in my arms. But I was safe. “Gen… you came into my life like an angel and saved me,” he murmured. “From the first moment, I loved you. I swore then I would spend the rest of my life protecting you.” I accepted his proposal, and we married. He said he had nothing, so he fought tooth and nail for success. He risked his life to love me. Now, he risked my life to hurt me. We were the most envied couple in our social circle—until Jules came home. The Abbotts and Hartleys were old family friends. When Killian and I attended their dinner, he overheard stories of Jules’s childhood crush on me, the talks of a potential engagement. That night, Killian and I had our first earth-shattering fight. We were frozen in a three-month cold war. During that time, he hired Aria Bellweather as an intern. When I went to his office, ready to reconcile, I found Aria dabbing a tea stain off his shirt. The moment Killian saw me, the warmth in his face evaporated. We argued all the way to the car. A delivery truck suddenly swerved toward us. On instinct, I lunged, pulling him behind me. We both survived, but my left hand—my pianist’s hand—was permanently damaged. The chasm between us, unspoken, only deepened. Later, we were at a restaurant when we overheard Aria playing piano. Killian was mesmerized. He called her music celestial. The international competition I had been forced to withdraw from due to my injury soon had a new competitor. “Darling,” he said, his voice casual. “Since you can’t participate, we shouldn’t stifle another pianist’s rise.” Under the table, my hands throbbed. My heart ached just as fiercely. “… Fine,” I whispered, the tremor in my voice barely audible. Killian, who usually tracked my every mood, didn’t look at me. He generously transferred my personal piano teacher and my private studio space to Aria. … I sighed, staring at their smiling faces on the television. I slowly reached up and removed the human hair wig, revealing the smooth, pale skin of my scalp—the result of aggressive chemotherapy. Now, he was even ready to give away the title of ‘Mrs. Thorne,’ the last thing he’d promised me. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be needing it. Anyway, I was dying. At the auction house. “I’ll get that necklace for you, Gen. No matter the cost.” Jules sat next to me, his voice low and comforting. I nodded, my gaze drawn across the room. Killian was there, his expression stormy, with Aria standing beside him, looking smug. “Mr. Thorne never attends public events unless it’s work. He must be here to buy jewels for Ms. Bellweather.” “I heard he’s planning a lavish wedding for her. He must be stocking up on custom jewelry.” “The way he spoils her! It’s the kind of love story movies are made of!” My eyes were glued to Killian. Years ago, rumors that he relied on the Hartleys to start his company made him avoid public intimacy with me. Now, he was openly affectionate with Aria, draped around her like a trophy. “Focus, Gen. It’s starting.” Jules gently nudged me. I missed the dark, calculating look Killian cast my way. “One million.” “Three million.” … Killian’s assistant kept raising the paddle. Everything I showed the slightest interest in, Killian would preemptively snatch up at an outrageous price. The room buzzed with admiration. “Mr. Thorne is so devoted to Ms. Bellweather! He’s spending a fortune!” My fingers tightened around the handle of my clutch. I offered a weak, self-deprecating smile. “And now, the final lot… The Deep Sea Dream!” My breath caught. My vision blurred with immediate grief and intimacy. The delicate, pale blue necklace was breathtaking. Jules raised his paddle, setting a new high bid. “Ten million, going once!” “Ten million, going twice!” “Ten million—” “The Blind Bid.” The deep, resonant voice shattered the silence of the hall like a bombshell. My knuckles were white. I stared at Killian. He knew. He knew what this necklace meant to me. Why would he…? He was unfazed. He had his assistant retrieve the necklace immediately and fasten it around Aria’s neck. “Tell me, Genevieve,” he asked, meeting my stare with a cold smirk. “Doesn’t Aria look lovely in this?” Furious, dizzy, and fighting the rush of blood in my throat, I stood. “She doesn’t deserve it!” The sound of my slap echoed throughout the silent room. A bright red print flared on Killian’s face. He paused, covering his cheek, his eyes glinting with a dangerous, mocking light. I raised my hand again, this time aiming for Aria, but Killian’s strong grip locked my wrist down. “You want the necklace so badly? Kneel. Kneel down and beg for it.” “Or better yet,” he added, his voice low and vicious. “Have Jules kneel down and beg me.” I snatched my hand back, trembling with rage. Killian knew this was my mother’s last design, her final piece of work. It was irreplaceable. He had always stripped me of what I loved and given it to Aria. Years ago, he claimed Aria reminded him of the talented, young me, and he couldn’t let her talent go to waste. He found her the best tutors. Their relationship quickly moved beyond professional. On my last birthday, Killian didn’t show up. I found him in the studio, personally guiding Aria’s fingers across the keys, teaching her the techniques I had taught him when we were dating. I felt a paralyzing chill. I couldn’t bear to think that my husband, the man I considered my life, would betray me. I wandered the streets, distraught, and nearly got hit by a car. Jules rushed me home. Killian offered no explanation. He watched my breakdown with cold, judgmental eyes. My heart was pulverized, one grain at a time. My favorite cashmere coat disappeared from my closet. “Doesn’t Mr. Thorne’s gift look amazing on me, Gen?” Aria asked me later, the coat tailored to fit her delicate frame perfectly. Killian ignored my silent fury. “Aria comes from a humble background. She didn’t have a proper winter coat. Don’t be so petty.” Before our engagement, he had purchased a precious jade pendant and crawled on his knees, three steps for every bow, up the steps of the temple to pray for my well-being. That pendant now hung around Aria’s neck. “The jade is worn out after all these years,” Killian explained carelessly. “I’ll buy you a new one.” I snapped. I drove to the studio and smashed everything. He shielded Aria, his eyes colder than I had ever seen them. “You hysterical bitch!” Killian walked out, taking Aria with him, and didn’t come home. The second month he was gone, I found out I was pregnant. I stared at the two lines on the test, laughing until I was sobbing. Killian finally called me to meet in our usual cafe. I lowered my eyes, about to present the ultrasound. “I’m pregnant—” “I’m in love with Aria. Let’s make it an open marriage, just like I said.” His cold, serious demeanor was a knife to my eye and my heart. My world spun. I heard the distinct sound of my heart shattering, spilling blood onto the floor. I never got the chance to tell him about the baby. Aria called, claiming she was afraid of a thunderstorm, and the formidable CEO panicked. The ultrasound report fluttered from my hands and landed on the ground. Killian stepped directly onto it, a large, dark footprint covering the picture of the child we had once longed for. He rushed out. That night, I cried until I was dry. I took a carving knife and pressed it against my wrist. The blood, the smell, my parents’ frantic screams—I closed my eyes and saw Killian proposing to me. “Gen, marry me?” His eyes held only me. No. Killian, I regret it. I was rescued, but my parents aged overnight. “Gen, please don’t leave your father and me,” my mother begged, her face streaked with tears. “Think of the baby, think of us.” I stopped trying to die, but I lived like a ghost, sinking into severe depression. Meanwhile, Killian traveled the world with Aria for her competitions. The rumors of Aria being the “real” Mrs. Thorne were constant; he tacitly allowed them. He took her to all the places we had promised to visit. He poured his network and resources into her career. The famously private CEO even agreed to a ridiculous celebrity couple reality show, just because Aria wanted the experience. The headlines constantly detailed Killian’s extravagant spending on Aria. He even gave her a five percent share of his hard-won corporation. His open favoritism made me a public joke. But who would have guessed Killian Thorne had two wives? When I was five months pregnant, my mother took me out for a drive. A sedan swerved into our lane, hitting us head-on. My mother died protecting me. The driver was Aria Bellweather. The dam broke. I crawled out of my hospital bed and rushed to find her, screaming for justice. I grabbed Aria’s hair and slapped her until my hand was raw. But a violent push sent me sprawling. Killian stood over a tearful Aria, shielding her with his body, his eyes glaring down at me. His voice was arctic. “It was an accident. Aria just got her license. What are you trying to accomplish?” “Genevieve, you’re not stable.” “Do you realize her hand is also injured? She might never play the piano again! Do you have to make her a cripple like you before you stop?” Tears streamed down my face as I watched their backs disappear. My heart felt ripped open. Beneath me, the floor was slick with blood. … I startled awake, the memory breaking off. I hadn’t brought the necklace home. A sharp pain seized my chest. I instinctively leaned over the wastebasket, spitting up a mouthful of blood. “Gen, you’re bleeding more often now.” Jules’s brows were furrowed. He placed his jacket over my shoulders and prepared to take me to the hospital. I shrugged. A few months after the accident, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. My father had spent a fortune to keep me alive for three years, but I was weakening rapidly. “The real CEO is here! Ms. Bellweather isn’t feeling well, and Mr. Thorne has summoned every single doctor in the building!” “Oh my God, they’re so in love! Didn’t he place a blind bid for her at the auction house the other day?” “He practically owns this wing; it’s his private medical team for her.” Nurses gossiped as they rushed past the consulting room. “Excuse me, we have an appointment with Dr. Bennett for a follow-up,” Jules said, his voice tight with impatience. The nurse eyed my pale face dismissively. “Are you Mrs. Thorne? If not, wait your turn. Dr. Bennett is with the real Mrs. Thorne now. She has no time for you.” I wiped the blood from my mouth, my face serene. I stopped Jules from erupting. Inside the consulting room. “Congratulations, Mr. Thorne. The baby is very healthy.” Killian looked stunned, then immediately draped his coat over Aria, his eyes alight with tenderness. Aria put Killian’s hand on her lower abdomen, kissing his cheek. “You’re going to be a father, Killian.” Killian smiled. “I’m clearing my schedule to take care of you. I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl. We need to start picking out things.” Killian kept talking, but I barely heard him. The familiar, profound coldness enveloped me. A knife was slowly carving up my heart. “Boy or girl, let’s call the baby ‘Hope,’” he said softly. “For peace and joy.” Hope… My Hope. In that car crash, I lost more than my mother. I lost my baby, my An-An. Peace and joy was what Killian and I had dreamed of for our first child. My mother died protecting a child. Killian, to protect Aria, killed mine. My vision tunneled. As blood rushed to my palm, I turned to leave. “Gen! Did you know I was pregnant? Are you here to congratulate me?” Aria’s eyes held a malicious gleam. “Killian and I are truly in love. Please, just give us your blessing. Of course, the trash I don’t want, I’ll toss your way.” I remained expressionless, pulling Jules toward the exit. “Stop.” Killian’s gaze landed on me, dark and unreadable. “You still owe Aria an apology for injuring her three years ago.” My face went white. My nails dug into my palm, drawing blood. I stared at him, but he avoided my eyes, casually looping his finger through Aria’s hair. “Your father’s company is still struggling, isn’t it? Just kneel down and bow your head to Aria, and I’ll call off the attack on Hartley Inc.” I saw the premature gray in my father’s hair. Since my mother’s death, he had been crushed, all while having to care for me and defend the company against Killian’s vicious campaign. It was all my fault. A violent tremor ran through my body. Tears spilled onto my cheeks. I let go of my clenched fist. I knelt. My forehead struck the pristine hospital floor, and a hot stream of blood immediately pooled. Killian froze, his hand outstretched, but he did not move to help. I pushed myself up, ignored the searing pain, and walked away. … Aria was chattering excitedly about the pregnancy. Killian, however, was haunted by the image of my desolate, bloodied back. He felt a moment of profound dread, as if something irreplaceable was slipping away. “Someone, call a doctor! That woman who was just kneeling and hitting her head is vomiting blood by the door! She’s dying!” “Isn’t that Dr. Bennett’s late-stage stomach cancer patient?” The nurses’ panicked voices broke through Killian’s trance. His blood turned to ice. He shoved Aria away and sprinted for the door.

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The city’s spectacle today: my husband’s mistress threatening to jump, demanding I, his wife, be the negotiator. Through sobs, she claimed, “Your husband has kept me trapped in a villa for two weeks, refusing to let me out of bed. Today he hurt me so badly I needed eight stitches. I can’t take it anymore!” I kept my voice steady. “What is it you want?” “Promise me he won’t be so… rough next time.” From below, Nicholas called out with indulgent amusement, “You’re the one who teased me, darling. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” “Stop it…” she whined, her face flushed. “Come down now, and I promise to let you rest tonight,” he coaxed. “Only if she helps me down,” she said, pointing at me. I reached out. She pulled hard. I lost my balance and fell. Beside the airbag, Nicholas held her, watching the blood pool beneath me. “Darling, quite a scene you’ve made. You’ll handle the mess, won’t you?” Swallowing blood, I smiled bitterly. The ten-year battle with Nicholas’s mother was finally over — and I’d won. … Nicholas seemed pleased with my reaction. “Sienna’s had a scare. I’m taking her to the hospital.” “She’s young. Just take whatever punishment the old lady dishes out. Don’t say anything you shouldn’t. Understand?” I remained silent, nodding. An onlooker muttered in disgust, “Are all the high-society wives in this city such pathetic doormats?” Someone else sneered, “Don’t drag the rest of us down with her. The only one who debases herself like this is Victoria Song.” I curled my fists, forcing back the tears. Over the years, every time a scandalous photo of Nicholas surfaced, I was the one who faced the Thorne family’s “discipline.” The family’s official social media page even live-streamed my punishments. Afterward, I was forced to write a public apology, confessing my failure to guide my husband, which led to his debauchery and the tarnishing of the family name. I became infamous in high society as the “Doormat Wife.” Nicholas even created a special section in the city’s online tabloid called “Did Victoria Get It Today?” where people could place bets. Winners got a chance to win a new phone; losers had to buy ten copies of the paper. He and the tabloid made a fortune off my humiliation. “Always bet ‘yes’,” someone in the crowd advised. “Otherwise, you’ll be out the cost of ten papers again.” Another person was skeptical. “But she looks like she’s miscarrying. Can she even take the punishment?” “A miscarriage is nothing,” the first person replied. “It won’t stop them from sticking needles in her fingers.” “Trust me, Victoria Song has no self-respect. Just wait for the Thorne family livestream later tonight.” Every word was a poisoned dagger to my heart. They were right. For all these years, I had clung to Nicholas’s side, a pathetic, groveling creature, tolerating his endless parade of mistresses, refusing to let go of my title as Mrs. Thorne. But today, finally, I didn’t have to endure it anymore. At the hospital, the doctor shook his head regretfully. “It was a healthy baby boy, Mrs. Thorne. My condolences…” I thanked him numbly, feeling no overwhelming grief. Nicholas’s mother arrived quickly. She looked down at me, her expression as impassive as ever. “How much? Name your price.” The exact same question she had asked five years ago when Nicholas first brought me home to meet her. Back then, she had been blunt. “You’re not right for him.” “The love in your eyes is too pure. It doesn’t belong in his world.” “Forcing it will only bring misery to you both.” But I hadn’t believed her. I couldn’t believe that Nicholas, the man who had valued my life over his own, was a mistake I was forcing. I refused her money. She stopped objecting. “The Thorne family door is easy to enter, but difficult to leave.” “Sign this agreement, and I will consent to your marriage.” Like a moth to a flame, I signed the prenuptial agreement. And through Nicholas’s endless betrayals, I finally understood what she meant by “difficult to leave.” I looked up at her, a bitter smile on my face. “A divorce, and one billion dollars.” Her expression remained cold. “The money and the divorce certificate will be in your hands in one month.” “But until then, you are still Mrs. Thorne.” I understood her meaning and nodded. After his mother left, my phone rang. It was Nicholas. “You’re at the hospital? Did you get checked out? What was all that blood?” His voice was laced with irritation. I didn’t want to argue. “It’s nothing serious.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Come to the international wing.” “Sienna lost ten papers’ worth of bets because you didn’t get your punishment today, and she was embarrassed in front of her friends. Now she’s mad at me.” “You need to come and apologize.” I was about to refuse, but then I remembered his mother’s words. A small, cold smile touched my lips. “Alright.” When I arrived at Sienna’s private room, it was filled with people. Nicholas was cooing at her. “My little darling, she’s here. What will it take for you to forgive me?” Sienna shot me a disdainful look. “I’m not an unreasonable person.” “It’s just that my friends all lost money because of her. If she goes around and has a drink with each of them to apologize, I’ll let you sleep in the bed tonight.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Nicholas agreed. “Fine. She’ll drink.” I stared at him in disbelief. He knew. He knew I was allergic to alcohol. One sip, and I would struggle to breathe. Years ago, when I first started my career, a team leader forced me to drink. I ended up in the emergency room getting my stomach pumped. Nicholas had been so distraught seeing me in pain, his eyes had turned bloodshot with rage. The next day, he bought out the entire company for five hundred million dollars. At the celebration party, he forced the team leader to drink until he had to be hospitalized with internal bleeding, and then had him blacklisted from the entire city. “From this day on,” he had declared, “if anyone ever makes Victoria drink again, I won’t hesitate to ruin their life.” No one had dared to offer me a drink since. And now, to appease his mistress, he was telling me to drink. When I didn’t move, Nicholas tried to coax me. “Darling, we’re in a hospital. There are doctors everywhere. A few glasses won’t hurt you.” Sienna started to cry. “If she doesn’t want to, then fine. Just send her home. You can stay the night there, with her.” Meeting my furious gaze, Nicholas just smirked. “I hear the chief is thinking about downsizing the negotiation department. I wonder where all your old, crippled colleagues will end up.” “The traffic department, maybe? Writing tickets all day, serving the public.” Most of my colleagues were former officers, injured in the line of duty. They had been shuffled from department to department, treated like errand boys, until the negotiation unit was formed. It was the only place they felt they had value. They had always been kind to me, ignoring the public ridicule, pulling me back from the brink of despair time and time again. I bit my lip. “What do our personal issues have to do with them?” A grin spread across Nicholas’s face. “I don’t want to involve them. But I also don’t want to sleep on the couch.” “The choice is yours, darling.” “You have three seconds.” I knew I had no choice. “I’ll drink.” Numbly, I downed glass after glass, murmuring apologies. At some point, the glass slipped from my fingers, and I collapsed to the floor. Someone sneered, “Stop faking it. It’s only been a few glasses. If you don’t want to drink, just say so.” Someone kicked me. As the world went dark, I thought I saw a flicker of panic in Nicholas’s eyes as he rushed toward me. “What are you all standing there for? Get a doctor!” His panicked expression was identical to the one he wore five years ago, back when he still loved me. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye and hit the cold floor. But it was too late, Nicholas. I would never love you again. I woke up to find Nicholas sitting by my bedside, his eyes red-rimmed. He took my hand and kissed it gently. “Darling, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had miscarried…” “It’s all Sienna’s fault for being so dramatic. I’ll deal with her.” “You just focus on getting better. We’re still young. We’ll have another child.” The look of concern in his eyes was as deep and convincing as ever, but the scent of another woman’s perfume on his clothes made my stomach turn. “Perhaps your children and I are just not meant to be.” He didn’t understand. He squeezed my hand, his eyes filled with a fierce determination. “You’re my wife. My children will only ever be with you.” “I may fool around, but I have my principles. Only you are worthy of bearing my child.” Just as the words left his mouth, the door opened. Sienna stood there, tears streaming down her face. “Nicholas, so… you don’t want our baby?” She turned and ran, leaving a sonogram picture fluttering to the ground. In an instant, Nicholas dropped my hand and chased after her. When he returned, he was holding a velvet box. “Victoria, Sienna is pregnant. Your child is gone, but this one has come at the perfect time.” “You know the Thorne family needs an heir.” I laughed bitterly. Just three hours ago, he had sworn that only I would ever bear his children. I clenched my fists. My unborn child, just like me, was being cast aside to make way for someone else. Nicholas was, as always, dictatorial. “I’m bringing Sienna home. I want you to personally take care of her. It’s the only way I’ll feel at ease.” “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” He pressed the velvet box into my hand. I recognized it immediately. It was the sapphire necklace I had glanced at in the airport a few weeks ago. I tossed it aside. “Don’t buy me things anymore. I don’t need them.” “Then what do you want? A new car? A new apartment?” My voice was flat. “Nothing.” He feigned nervousness. “Then what? Me?” “Darling, I’ve told you before, you can’t be greedy. My heart will always belong to you. But my body… you’ll have to let the younger girls have that.” Through his teasing smile, I spoke calmly. “Go be with her. I’m tired.” Nicholas froze for a second, then smiled and placed a light kiss on my forehead. “You have no idea how lucky I am to have married you.” The curve of his smile, once so familiar, now felt completely alien. Back then, the heir to the Thorne fortune, a man who had his pick of any woman, had fallen for me, an orphan from a broken home. He knew my story, knew that I was the product of a brutal assault on my mother, knew that my mother had killed my attacker to protect me. Everyone told him to stay away from me, that I had tainted blood. When I was falsely accused of theft in college, and my classmates petitioned to have me expelled, he stood against them all. He found the evidence to clear my name, defending me at every turn. He pursued me relentlessly for four years, but the pain of my past had made me withdrawn and insecure. 99 proposals, 99 rejections. The summer of my senior year, an earthquake hit my hometown. I was buried in the rubble of the orphanage where I had grown up. Ignoring everyone’s warnings, Nicholas flew to my side. He dug through the debris with his bare hands. When an aftershock caused a pillar to collapse and break his leg, he didn’t stop. After a day and a night, he finally pulled me out. When the light hit my face, I felt like I was seeing my savior. My god had been broken for me. I wept, telling him I wasn’t worth it. Nicholas’s eyes were red-rimmed. He told me, “Victoria Song, you’ve never understood. In this world, there is nothing that can stop me from loving you.” In that moment, he entered my heart. At our wedding, he cried like a child. “Victoria, you have no idea how lucky I am to have married you.” The same words, five years later, with a completely different meaning. Then, he was lucky because he had married me. Now, he was lucky because I was willing to accept his cheating and allow him to have a child with another woman. But it was alright. I no longer felt the pain. Sienna moved into our home. Nicholas threw our wedding photos into a storage room, saying he didn’t want to upset her. He gave her our master bedroom, saying a pregnant woman needed more sunlight. He had the rose garden I had planted torn up and replaced with lilies, Sienna’s favorite. …

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While adjusting the drip rate for a patient again, I caught her posting a video on TikTok. The video showed the IV drip currently hanging. Caption: “The nurse is all dressed up, probably planning to go on a date later.” “So I deliberately adjusted the flow rate to the slowest. Take your time, I’m in no rush.” “Hahaha, looks like the little nurse won’t be able to make her date.” 1 While I was hooking up the IV drip for the patient, she suddenly asked me: “Miss, how old are you?” I glanced at the patient. About thirty or forty years old, with somewhat dark skin and high cheekbones. She was wearing a red dress, the lace at the bottom worn out beyond recognition. I smiled: “Twenty-three.” “So young,” she looked me up and down a few times, “Got a boyfriend yet?” Facing so many patients every day, many older patients like to chat. I was used to it and replied: “Not yet.” The patient looked at me a few more times, then suddenly grinned and said: “Oh, wearing makeup for work? Your makeup skills are quite good. Dressed so prettily, do you have a date later?” I wear makeup just to look a bit more spirited at work, pleasing to my own eyes. But for some reason, this patient’s tone made me feel subtly uncomfortable. “No.” I didn’t want to explain much, carefully inserting the needle for her: “You have pneumonia, right? There are three bags in total. Call me when one is finished, and I’ll come change it for you.” I specifically instructed: “Don’t adjust the flow rate. It’s normal if there’s a little blood return later, don’t be scared. Ring the bell if you need me.” “Oh, okay, okay, I know. Go busy yourself.” She still had a smile on her face, as if the gaze that made me uncomfortable just now was just my imagination. The night shift was really too busy. I soon forgot about this matter and went to change IV drips for others. After a busy round, I could finally catch my breath. I found a chair to sit down, rubbing my legs sore from standing too long. Thinking that I could rest tomorrow, I couldn’t help smiling. Just as I was thinking about asking friends to hang out, the female patient from earlier suddenly rang the bell. “What’s wrong?” I got up and went over. “Uncomfortable, oh my, I feel terrible.” I was startled and quickly checked her infusion information. “Are you sure you’re not allergic to penicillin?” She nodded: “Not allergic, I’ve had it before.” No problem with the medicine, and no allergies. I asked with concern: “Where is it uncomfortable? How does it feel?” “Just uncomfortable,” she frowned, “I can’t describe it either. Oh, seems better now, not uncomfortable anymore.” My heart relaxed. Just as I wanted to leave, I saw a drop of medicine dripping down from the drip bottle after a long time. The flow rate had been adjusted to the slowest. I frowned: “Did you touch the flow rate?” “Ah, what? I felt uncomfortable with it dripping too fast.” I looked down at the patient and said helplessly: “There are regulations for drug flow rates. Don’t adjust it randomly. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” I reached out to adjust the flow rate to the standard speed. Thinking about her discomfort just now, I slowed it down a little bit. “I’ve adjusted it slower for you,” I instructed repeatedly, “Don’t touch the flow rate. Call me if you need anything.” “Okay, okay, sorry for troubling you.” 2 Although the patient’s attitude was good, she was really too troublesome. Every time I just sat down to rest, she started ringing the bell. “Miss, does your hospital have power banks? My phone is out of battery.” “No, the hospital doesn’t have power banks, but there are charging plugs over there.” I said kindly, “If your phone is out of battery, I can help you take it over to charge.” “Forget it, no need, thanks.” Not long after, the bell rang again! I got up tiredly and went over: “What’s wrong?” “Miss, this fluid is too cold. It feels uncomfortable and chilly.” I thought for a moment: “How about I give you a heat pack?” “Forget it, no need, sorry to bother you.” “It’s okay.” I waved my hand. As a result, just as I sat back to catch my breath, she rang the bell again! I resignedly went over: “Ma’am, what’s wrong now?” The woman had a smile on her face and pointed to my seat: “Miss, do you have a date later? I saw you smiling just now.” I had been busy all night, just smiled because I thought about the day off tomorrow! Fire rose in my heart, but I patiently said: “I don’t have a date. Please ring the bell only if you have something important.” “Okay, okay, sorry, I was just curious.” The woman’s face was piled with smiles: “I was just wondering, Miss, you’re so pretty, how can you not have a boyfriend?” “Must be lots of boys chasing you, right? Look at your white skin and big eyes, and makeup so well done.” She looked carefully at my face: “Your makeup is really detailed. Must take an hour or two to do, right? What time do you have to get up in the morning?” I was really annoyed, but seeing her alone getting an IV drip so late without anyone accompanying her. It was also quite pitiful. Maybe she was really just too lonely and wanted to find someone to talk to. “Not that long, just five or ten minutes.” Just as I wanted to tell her not to ring the bell if there was nothing, I suddenly remembered an hour had passed, and her drip should have been finished long ago. I looked up, but saw more than half of the first bag remaining. It took forever for a drop of medicine to fall. She adjusted the flow rate to slow again! This time I was really angry. “Didn’t I tell you not to adjust the flow rate? You have three bags in total. At this speed, you won’t finish even if you drip all night. “I already adjusted the speed slower for you just now, don’t touch it again!” Saying that, I reached out to adjust the flow rate. I meant well, afraid her injection time would be too long, having to suffer here all the time. The hospital chairs are cold and uncomfortable to sit on, better to finish early and go back to rest. Who would have thought the woman still had that grinning appearance: “Oh my, am I dripping too slow, delaying your date, Miss? Sorry about that!” I was furious, didn’t want to say a word anymore. Adjusted the flow rate and went back to sit. This time she didn’t ring the bell again. I breathed a sigh of relief, patrolled around, and went back to the room to mix medicine. Just finished mixing, the director came to check. She came in and walked around: “Is everything okay?” “No problems.” I shook my head: “All hooked up, I checked the medicine many times too, no problem.” “That’s good.” The director looked at my records: “Among the new batch, you are the most meticulous, not bad.” Just as she turned to leave, the bell rang again! I looked at the place where the bell rang, and my vision went black. It was that female patient again! Now other patients were unhappy too. The big brother sleeping with his head covered next to her suddenly lifted the blanket and said impatiently: “Are you done yet? How many times have you rung the bell tonight? Can’t you finish saying everything at once if you have something? Letting people sleep or not?!” The woman shrank her neck and whispered: “I feel uncomfortable, can’t I say it?” The director walked over: “What’s wrong, where is it uncomfortable?” She checked the medicine: “No problem—hmm? Why is your flow rate so slow?” “I feel uncomfortable if it’s too fast,” the woman glanced at me, “This miss keeps adjusting the flow rate faster for me, is it delaying her date?” “Hehehe,” she smiled, “Young people have rich night lives. Such a pretty girl must have many suitors. Many dates are understandable. It’s okay, just drip faster then, don’t delay her getting off work.” I was so angry my vision went black, and I said loudly: “I didn’t adjust it fast for you, I adjusted to the standard speed. Besides, I already slowed it down for you. If you feel uncomfortable anywhere, tell me. I don’t have a date, don’t talk nonsense!” The big brother next to her also helped: “The nurse has been called over by you several times. You said you were uncomfortable and she adjusted it for you. Why do you keep tormenting people?” “Who am I tormenting?!” The woman said aggrievedly, “Can’t I say it if I’m uncomfortable! “Are you helping her because she’s pretty? Do you want to chase her?!” The man rolled his eyes: “Crazy.” The director said seriously: “Your flow rate is too slow. I see you still have two bags. Like this, you can’t finish all night. Won’t you have to suffer here yourself?” “Where exactly are you uncomfortable? Should I change the medicine for you?” “No need, no need,” the woman waved her hands repeatedly, “Maybe the needle wasn’t inserted well just now. I asked, this miss is only 23, just graduated right?” “Intern, right? Oh my, college girls have no experience, it’s normal not to do well. It’s okay, I’m not a pretentious person, I can understand.” I was sure I inserted the needle perfectly just now! Just an IV drip, I practice every day at home, not to mention handled so many patients in the hospital, I haven’t failed inserting a needle for anyone! I suppressed my anger: “You said it wasn’t inserted well, where is it not well?” “Oh my, how would I know this? I’m not a professional. I just feel pain, look, there’s blood return.” She pointed to the back of her hand. There was no blood at all in the infusion tube. “Where?” “There was just now, maybe gone now.” The woman shrank back, “Don’t be angry, Miss. I won’t say it next time. I just don’t understand, I was scared, I didn’t mean it.” The director looked at her hand seriously: “Your needle insertion is fine, no blood return. Even if there is, it’s a normal phenomenon, don’t worry.” “Oh,” the woman laughed awkwardly, “Then maybe I saw wrong. I feel much better now. You adjust it, it’s fine.” The director adjusted the flow rate: “Our nurses are very responsible. They get off work on time and won’t leave early. Don’t worry, tell the nurse immediately if there are any problems.” “Hehehe.” The woman fake laughed twice. … Finally finished one bag, I went to change the medicine for the woman expressionlessly. The woman’s apple cheeks bulged: “Sorry, Nurse Miss. I’m a bit scared coming to the hospital alone for the first time. Don’t hold it against me.” I took a deep breath: “If there are any problems, notify me, and I will check for you. I won’t leave work early for a date. Even if my shift ends, a colleague will take over. We have people here 24 hours a day, you don’t need to worry about these.” “Okay, okay, hurry up and get busy. Sorry, I’m fine now.” There are too many such things in the hospital, I was really out of breath, so I hurried to mix medicine for others. Finally busy finishing and coming back, passing by the woman, she was playing with her phone with her back to me. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and froze. The woman was posting a short video, the screen showing the IV drip just put on. Caption: “The nurse is all dressed up, probably planning to go on a date later. So I deliberately adjusted the flow rate to the slowest. Take your time, I’m in no rush. Hahaha, looks like the little nurse won’t be able to make her date.” I looked up sharply, my brain buzzing! She adjusted the flow rate to the minimum again! 3 Working here for a while, I’ve seen quite a few weirdos. But this irritating, truly the first time I’ve seen such a person. Bad and stupid. I didn’t want to argue with her. Entangling with her was meaningless, and there was a risk of complaints. The woman moved and came back to her senses. Seeing me, she panicked, quickly turned off her phone, and smiled at me. I walked past her expressionlessly. I kindly didn’t want her to suffer here, but I didn’t expect there are people in the world who can have such great hostility towards a stranger they’ve never met. Without power, or even intelligence, she still tries her best to make things difficult for others. She probably doesn’t know we work in shifts. I have half an hour left before handing over to my colleague. Her time is worthless. If she wants to suffer, let her suffer here. … Half an hour later, my colleague came to take over. “Exhausted after a busy night, right? Hurry back and rest. Leaving at this time, you can still make it home for dinner.” My colleague smiled at me: “Today is Valentine’s Day, no date?” Is it Valentine’s Day today? I looked at my phone, really is. Busy working, couldn’t care less about these so-called holidays. But I have a bit of PTSD about the word date, quickly waved my hand: “No no no, I’m withdrawing, you get busy.” The female patient on the side saw me packing up to leave, her face suddenly changed! “You…” She stammered. “You’re leaving? I haven’t finished dripping yet.” “Yes, what’s wrong?” I said smilingly, “We work in shifts, don’t you know?” “I feel uncomfortable!” She suddenly said, “I’m not comfortable, help me check, is there a problem with this drip, oh my.” She frowned, looking somewhat in pain. I smiled: “Sorry, I’m getting off work. But my colleague is still here.” “Tell my colleague if you have anything. She’s on the first half of the night, another colleague will come for the second half. Don’t worry.” “Slow, slow, drip.” The woman’s face was a bit ugly, forcing a twisted smile. “Oh, like that. “Your shift is really relaxing, only these few hours a day?” “It’s okay,” I smiled and said: “You really don’t need to worry about delaying me getting off work. “Not to mention dripping for these few hours, even if you drip all night, it won’t delay anything. Rest assured, after work I do what I need to do, nothing is delayed.” The woman’s face turned darker, fingers clenching. The big brother next to her couldn’t help laughing out loud, saying in a voice everyone could hear: “Idiot.” I couldn’t be bothered with her, looked up and walked past her. Through the glass door in front, I could still see the woman staring dead at me from behind. Face livid, expression venomous. 4 Just walked to the parking lot, I received a message from another colleague. It was a link jumping to a short video. “Just saw it swiping local feed, look, is this you?” I clicked in and almost died of anger! That woman posted another video at some point, and this time she filmed my face directly! “Nurse job is so good, putting on makeup at work, don’t have to do any work, get off work to date after a few hours.” “Some people have good lives, can’t envy.” I didn’t mind the video just filming the drip earlier, but this time my features were clearly visible! She deliberately filmed my face! And this video had been pushed to local trending, with comments flooding below. “Nurse miss is so pretty, asking for contact info.” The woman replied: “She already has a partner. I was getting a drip and she wished she could adjust it to the fastest for me. Thinking I delayed her getting off work to play with men, I might as well have drunk it.” Added a mouth-covering laughing emoji. There were also sensible people speaking for me. “Not that easy to do, nurses are very tired, often have to work night shifts.” The woman replied quickly: “Indeed not easy, painting so exquisitely, what time does she have to get up in the morning to prepare? Still have to date at night, busy! Haha.” That person retorted: “If it’s so good, why don’t you do it?” “They only recruit young and pretty girls like this. Who wants an old woman like me? Don’t know why the hospital gets so many beauties, making men’s eyes straight, sigh.” Someone gave her advice: “You can complain about her.” The woman posted a teeth-baring smile emoji: “They are all connected, my complaint won’t work.” Then secretly posted a photo of me below. My ID number and name were clearly visible on it. How can a person be this despicable?! I was furious, strode back to the infusion hall. The woman was still typing frantically on her phone. Seeing me return, she immediately put on a fake smile. “Miss, why did you come back? Did you leave something behind?” I clenched my fingers: “What right do you have to film me? Do you know you have infringed my portrait rights?! “Besides, I didn’t adjust your drip flow rate fast at all, and I wasn’t rushing off work to date. What right do you have to talk nonsense?!” The woman played dumb: “I didn’t post anything, you found the wrong person, right?” I took out my phone and shoved it in front of her: “Isn’t this posted by you?! There are your previous videos below!” Although her previous videos were wearing revealing cheap clothes, looking like posing in a village bungalow. Or lip-syncing songs or finger dances with maximum beauty filter, but one could see it was the woman in front. Seeing I took out evidence, she shrank her head and laughed awkwardly: “I just posted it for fun, a joke. Miss, why are you so serious? “I just saw you were pretty, couldn’t help posting a video, I didn’t do anything.” Saying that, she reached out and tugged my clothes. “Look at you dressed so beautifully, who would believe you’re not going on a date? But your boyfriend is really lucky to find such a pretty partner like you.” She turned to ask the big brother beside her: “Right?” The big brother ignored her completely. The woman was rebuffed, dared not speak again. I pulled my clothes back sharply, saying word by word: “I say it again, your drip was operated according to standard procedures from beginning to end. If you think I have a problem, you can complain about me, but you cannot slander me like this.” The woman seemed not to expect my attitude to be so tough, hurriedly took out her phone, face still piled with that annoying smile. “Oh my, oh my, don’t be angry. I was just joking. If you don’t like it, I’ll delete it.” Saying so, she had no intention of deleting it at all. “Fine, you won’t delete it, right?” I was too lazy to talk nicely to her anymore, “Then I’ll call the police directly. Publicizing others’ portraits without consent constitutes infringement. I won’t talk to you, talk to the police.” “How can it be so serious,” the woman didn’t care: “Don’t scare me.” A girl nearby looked over here: “She’s not scaring you. Fabricating facts that damage others’ reputation and spreading them publicly on information networks, being clicked and viewed more than 5000 times, or reposted more than 500 times constitutes defamation.” She pointed to the woman’s phone: “Could be sentenced to fixed-term imprisonment of up to three years. If you really go to jail, your son and grandson won’t be able to take civil service exams.” I looked at her gratefully. The woman was fierce in appearance but faint in heart: “Don’t scare me. Who knows if you’re talking nonsense to trick me? I just posted a video, how can I go to jail!” Expression became nervous though. The girl hooked her lips, took out her phone, found a photo of her lawyer’s license: “Big sister, read more books if uneducated. What do I trick you for, what do you have for me to trick?” She looked at me: “Beauty, if you need to fight a lawsuit, find me, I’ll give you a 20% discount.” Hearing about fighting a lawsuit, the woman got scared. Her smile piled up like melted vegetable cream, greasy and nauseating. She muttered: “Oh my, I was just joking. Why are you taking it seriously? Young people nowadays are so serious, can’t even say a word.” Seeing me expressionless, she squeezed out a smile harder: “Miss, don’t be angry, don’t haggle with me. “Is it worth calling police and fighting lawsuits over such a small matter? I’m a rural woman with no knowledge. I filmed because you look good!” “Oh my, I really have no bad intentions! If you don’t believe me, ask around in our village, who doesn’t know I’m honest? If you don’t like it, I’ll delete it.” Saying so, she took out her phone and deleted the video in front of me. “Okay now?” She looked very aggrieved. “I’m from the village, uneducated, unlike you knowing this and that. I know you look down on me, I annoyed you.” A big sister next to her rolled her eyes: “Stop embarrassing village people. What’s wrong with village people? Village people aren’t as crazy as you.” The woman glared at her fiercely. The big sister didn’t tolerate her, suddenly stood up pointing at her: “What are you looking at? Look again and I’ll show you!” The woman hurriedly lowered her head, daring not speak. I warned her coldly: “I will keep watching your account and various platforms. If I find you posting my portrait or spreading rumors again, let’s meet at the police station.” The woman gritted her teeth, but dared not say anything more. I didn’t want to waste words with her anymore, turned and left. She was still muttering behind: “Dressed so nicely, how can it not be for a date, still lying…”

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After successfully conquering the brooding male lead, I chose to leave the world immediately. Even though he humbly begged me to stay, I didn’t pause for a second. Back in the real world, my life wasn’t going well. The System found me and offered me five million dollars to go back into the book and conquer him again. Just as I agreed, a barrage of comments floated before my eyes: “Damn, the Ex-Wife who abandoned the male lead is back.” “LMAO, does she think the male lead still loves her?” “The second conqueror not only reduced the male lead’s Darkening Value to negative one hundred but also stayed behind voluntarily to give him a complete home.” “Now the young couple is about to get married. Does the Ex-Wife have any shame? Why is she bothering them?” 1 It took me a long time to react. The “Ex-Wife” in the comments was referring to me. Beside my ear, the System was still nagging, trying to sell me on this deal. “You just need to make Sebastian Thorne fall in love with you again, and you can get five million. Even if you don’t succeed, I’ll give you fifty thousand for your trouble. How about it? Good deal, right?” It was a very good deal. And the current me really needed this money. But thinking of the comments. I was silent for a moment and said I needed to consider it. So the System decided to send me back into the book first. To be precise, back to the home Sebastian and I once shared. A small apartment of a few hundred square feet, old but cozy, just like three years ago. Sebastian hadn’t moved a single thing of mine. Even the dress I accidentally stained before I left was washed at some point and hung neatly in the closet. I remember this dress was from a trendy brand at the time. When Sebastian secretly bought it for me, I scolded him severely because it was too expensive. He didn’t argue, just obediently lowered his eyelashes, waiting for my anger to subside. Then he coaxed me gently to put it on. I looked down at the silky fabric in my hand. Took a deep breath. If Sebastian had really forgotten me. Then why did he keep this house? I looked up again, surveying the small room. My gaze was suddenly drawn to a white paper taped to the window. On the translucent paper, there were only a few scrawled words. House for Sale, Price Negotiable, Urgent. The strokes were sharp; it was Sebastian’s handwriting. 2 Tiny text floated before my eyes again: “Hahaha, the Ex-Wife is dumbfounded, right? The male lead isn’t reluctant to part with their past; he just hasn’t had time to sell this house yet.” “The Ex-Wife still thinks the male lead loves her like before. Didn’t expect that after meeting Baby Girl, the male lead wouldn’t even spare her a glance.” “The System only let her conquer the male lead again to create some obstacles for the male lead and Baby Girl. The Ex-Wife is just waiting to humiliate herself.” I pursed my lips. So that’s how it is. The reason the System dared to offer five million was that it was certain I couldn’t succeed. Making me the vicious female supporting character who hindered the relationship between the male and female leads was its real goal. It used merely fifty thousand to exploit my labor. Fifty thousand. I smiled self-deprecatingly. Being a clown once for fifty thousand dollars wasn’t a small amount. It was a week’s treatment cost in the ICU. I called out the System and readily agreed to the deal. The System beamed and gave me a sum of money to cover my expenses during this time, but it could only be used in the book. Since Sebastian was so eager to sell this house. I might as well buy it. I held my phone and dialed the familiar number from memory. It took half a minute to connect. A girl’s crisp voice came from the receiver: “You are…” Stunned for a second. I lowered my eyes to confirm; it was indeed Sebastian’s number. “I passed by and saw the sale info on the window…” “You want to buy the house?” The voice on the other end exclaimed in surprise: “That’s great, someone finally wants this house.” I asked cautiously: “Are you the owner?” “I’m the owner’s girlfriend. You can call me Lily.” So she was the second conqueror. In the moment of distraction, there was a brief noise on the other end, like two people whispering. It seemed like a long, long time passed. Someone picked up the phone again. Sebastian’s cold voice came clearly from the receiver: “Hello, is it convenient to meet and talk?” 3 I waited anxiously in the coffee shop for a long time. Until a low-key luxury car stopped in front of the door. The door opened, and a perfect couple stepped out. Three years no see, Sebastian’s face was still so outstanding. The greenness between his brows had faded, plated with a layer of calm composure brought by power and wealth. He leaned lazily against the car door. I didn’t know what Lily said, but he smiled and rubbed her head. Across the distance. That gaze glanced indifferently in my direction. Only stayed for a moment, then rippled away like an undisturbed well. When Lily sat down in front of me, I was still lost in thought. She smiled at me apologetically: “My boyfriend has something to do. He can only drop me here. I’ll negotiate for him.” I nodded sincerely: “I can see you have a great relationship.” Lily’s smile deepened: “My boyfriend runs a tech company. The net profit alone is over a hundred million a year. We don’t lack the money from the house; we just don’t want to keep it anymore.” Her tone carried a faint sense of superiority. I nodded and made a request to see the house according to the procedure. Lily paused awkwardly: “The house key isn’t with me. If you want to see it, only my boyfriend can take you.” I was slightly stunned, puzzled: “Before you came, didn’t he give you the key?” Normally, buying and selling a house requires viewing it. Sebastian couldn’t possibly not know. Lily sighed with a bitter smile: “I asked for the key, but he wouldn’t give it, and he never took me there.” She lowered her voice: “To tell you the truth, that house is where he lived with his ex-wife when he started from scratch. I feel uncomfortable about it, so I want to sell it quickly.” I said oh. “In that case, I won’t view the house. Let’s sign the contract directly.” Lily was overjoyed. Afraid I would go back on my word, she immediately took out the sale agreement. But she didn’t have the property deed, so the transfer couldn’t happen yet. Still had to wait for Sebastian to come. Sitting idly bored. Looking at this conqueror who was just like me. I asked curiously: “How did you two get together?” Actually, I wanted to know how she conquered Sebastian. The System told me. After I left the world, Sebastian had a brief second Darkening. He slit his wrists, committed suicide, and his Darkening Value was once high enough to endanger the stability of the entire world. Lily came to his side at this time. Not only did she lower his Darkening Value, but she also completely replaced my position in his heart. Sebastian wasn’t an easy target to conquer. She must have suffered a lot. But Lily said with a smile: “That was when he was just abandoned by his ex-wife and was disheartened. I kept comforting him, and we confirmed our relationship not long after.” Was it that simple? I simply couldn’t believe it. Overwhelming ridicule appeared before my eyes again: “Hahaha, the Ex-Wife is probably breaking down. The male lead just has no resistance to our Baby Girl.” “You should know that the Ex-Wife spent a whole ten years conquering the male lead. During this period, she threw herself at him countless times before the male lead reluctantly got together with her.” “Baby Girl just said a few words to the male lead, and the Ex-Wife’s years of work were in vain. This is the power of true love.” … I silently watched these sarcastic words. They were right. My process of conquering Sebastian was indeed very difficult. So difficult that I never wanted to go through it again. 4 Sebastian’s parents didn’t love him. At a young age, they threw him into a mental hospital, leaving him to be abused and bullied by orderlies. The patients locked inside were lunatics and violent maniacs. The whole mental hospital was like a heavily guarded prison. So even with the help of the System. When I rescued him from the mental hospital, I almost lost half my life. I took Sebastian to a strange city. Let him study and walk the right path. I also arranged expensive psychological counseling for him every week. Doing so much, I just wanted him to trust me completely. But Sebastian was simply too smart. He easily saw through the truth of this world, including my identity and purpose. After the college entrance examination, Sebastian became the top scorer in the province. I happily celebrated with him. But he quietly pulled my arm, his expression cold, with a hint of imperceptible self-mockery. “You did all this because you wanted to conquer me, right?” After the shock. I sighed and choked out: “I like you. That is my purpose.” Sebastian snorted lightly, obviously not believing it. I was a little nervous but still leaned my head against his chest, muttering: “Sebastian, don’t worry about whether I have ulterior motives. These years have been really tiring for me. You have to let me live a good life soon.” “I really like you very much. Don’t question me like this anymore. I’m really sad.” … After graduation, Sebastian started his business. We moved into that small, old apartment. There was no heating in winter. My body was cold, and my feet were always frozen stiff and painful. Sebastian would rub my feet every night, wordless, but his eyes were red with heartache. During that time, we were already married. His goal changed from creating a tech company to destroy the world, to the vulgar goal of making money to buy a house for his wife. We rushed about during the day and snuggled in that small bed at night. In order to get investment, I was made things difficult by the investor CEO. I didn’t dare go back and tell him, so I cried while walking on the street for an hour. Even when facing the deliberate revenge of competitors, I firmly stood in front of Sebastian to protect him, but ended up in the operating room myself. I don’t know how many things like this happened. Only then did Sebastian slowly fall in love with me. Compared to my ten-year conquest. Lily only used a short three weeks. To lower Sebastian’s Darkening Value to negative one hundred. And his Affection Value rose to one hundred percent.

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The video arrived on the tenth anniversary of my marriage to Serena Shaw, the scion of a New England financial dynasty. When I held my phone up, demanding an explanation, Seri merely shrugged, her expression calm, utterly indifferent. “I have nothing to explain.” She sighed, a delicate, practiced sound. “Your health… it’s been complicated. I couldn’t ask you to keep up, but people have needs, Ash, don’t they?” I froze, the arm holding the phone above the coffee table going numb. “That’s your excuse?” Seri didn’t answer. Her light gaze drifted over me. “Honestly, for years now, you’ve just been… underwhelming.” I looked at her, and my heart turned to an icy shard. All those promises of ‘forever’ had only amounted to a short, brutal decade. 1 Seri reached out, took the phone from my numb fingers, and tossed it onto the glass coffee table. She glanced at the screen, shutting it off casually. “I’m tired, Ash. I have been for a while.” She rubbed her temples, her expression unchanged. “I’m in my late thirties. Seeing younger men… it’s a vitality I crave.” She spoke as if discussing a new line of credit. “I had planned to keep this from you forever. But since you found out, I don’t have to walk on eggshells or manage your feelings anymore.” Seri let out a sigh of relief. Every word was a needle, puncturing my chest. The pain was so sharp I could barely stand straight. I tried to pull my lips into a smile. “Seri, this isn’t funny. Just tell me it’s a hoax, tell me it’s all a lie, and I promise I’ll believe you.” She looked at me with a complicated expression—pity, impatience, but not a flicker of remorse. She walked out and returned with a document, sliding it across the table. The bold black letters on the cover choked the words in my throat. “I’ve already signed it.” She tapped the paper. “If you’re done, sign it, and we’ll have a clean break. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of financially.” Her eyes hardened. “If you want to stay married, fine. We’ll remain husband and wife in the eyes of the media. But you won’t interfere with my private life, and I won’t interfere with yours. As long as we keep up appearances for the shareholders, nothing changes.” Her finger tapped the table again, a sound of gentle but unmistakable coercion. I opened my mouth, my eyes burning. “Why?” I whispered. “We’ve been together for twenty-two years…” Seri walked closer, taking my hand. Her thumb traced the smooth metal of my wedding ring, cutting off my protest. “Exactly. We’ve been together for that long. It’s time I tried someone else.” She paused, then looked up and gave me a dazzling, dimpled smile. “Why don’t you try someone else, too? I won’t stop you.” I lowered my eyes, pulling my hand away. My voice was husky. “I won’t divorce you.” I met her gaze, cold and steady. “Two decades of my life. I poured all twenty years into us. And you think you can settle that debt with a check?” The atmosphere thickened into a heavy silence. It was broken only by the piercing ring of her cell phone. Seri grabbed her expensive Italian leather bag from the couch. She paused at the door, glancing back at me. “Ashton, you’ll figure it out sooner or later.” The front door slammed shut, sending a rush of air through the great room. On the dining table was the dinner I’d spent all afternoon preparing to celebrate her return from a business trip. My chest heaved with rage. I picked up the divorce agreement and tore it into confetti. Then, I swept the entire meal off the table. The sound of porcelain shattering on the marble floor echoed through the cavernous, empty living room. Ten years of marriage, ten years before that in a relationship. I had spent two decades walking by her side. As her money grew, and our houses grew larger, her heart had only grown colder. When I first received the video, I’d convinced myself it was a deepfake. A cruel joke. I never once imagined that the person who would first betray our marriage would be Serena. The pieces of the divorce agreement lay scattered at my feet. Seri’s signature on the dotted line felt like a physical jab to my eye. I bent down to clean up the mess, and a shard of plate glass cut my finger. I didn’t even register the blood welling up. I needed to focus on anything else. But all I could hear was Seri’s voice from before she left. Just yesterday, we were talking about our ten-year anniversary. The day after, that video shattered everything. It was all so absurd. A waking nightmare. 2 I sat motionless in the living room for the rest of the night. By dawn, the news about Seri’s “new flame” was the lead story on every major entertainment site. The internet was flooded with news of her dropping a fortune on a custom yacht for him, or video clips of them tearing up the I-95 bridge in her convertible. The comments were everywhere: [At the end of the day, they’re all the same.] [Rich people rarely stay faithful. Of course she has a side-piece. I just didn’t expect it from Serena Shaw.] [I heard she was utterly obsessed with Ashton Reed back in the day. The fireworks on their wedding night lasted three days straight.] [Dozens of millions in pyrotechnics! It was a spectacle.] The posts felt deliberately placed, like Seri wanted me to see them. Every comment constricted my heart. I remembered the day Shaw Global went public. She stood on stage, holding my hand for all the reporters and cameras to see. “This is my husband, my first love, the man I’ve adored for fifteen years,” she announced to the world. “He got me through the absolute hardest times. Without him, there would be no Shaw Global today.” That day, she was radiant, clutching my arm, her dimples deep with happiness. It was also the day she promised the cameras: “I will love Ashton Reed forever.” That interview is still online, constantly cited as a testament to true love. But her version of forever was short—only ten years. Now, a different man stood beside her, receiving the same tender attention she used to reserve for me. She was fending off the press, a subtle smile playing on her lips. “Devin’s just a college kid. Direct your questions to me. Don’t harass him.” My vision blurred. I compulsively watched the interview playback again and again, almost in an act of self-flagellation. Finally, Seri called. Her voice was still soft. “Did you see the news? Everyone’s speculating that we’ve already divorced. Which, let’s be honest, is only a matter of time.” She paused. “The documents can be signed today if you’ve come to your senses. Or, would you rather see it for yourself?” She texted me an address. I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. I didn’t know if I was driving there because of a foolish, tiny spark of hope, or out of pure, white-hot defiance. I hadn’t even walked through the door when I heard the loud laughter coming from the private lounge. “Seri, what about your husband back home?” Through the cracked door, I heard Seri’s casual reply. “He’s about to be history.” My hand clenched at my side. I pushed the door open. In an instant, every eye in the room turned to me. My gaze went straight to the college boy. Just as she’d described him: young, handsome, and arrogantly self-assured. He met my eyes and smirked, throwing his arm possessively around Seri’s waist. “Mr. Reed. Seri and I had a bet. If you showed up today, you had to drink this bottle.” He gestured to a high-end bottle of liquor. “You’re not going to let us down, are you?” My breath hitched. I looked up at Seri. She said nothing, a clear indication that the wager was real. “I don’t drink.” I clipped the refusal, staring her down. “I need to talk to you. Alone.” Seri sighed, looking at me with undisguised impatience. “Ashton, you’re always so tedious. It’s just a shot, not a death sentence.” She leaned back into Devin’s embrace. “You want to talk? Finish the bottle, and we’ll talk.” My lips were pressed into a thin line, my heart stinging with a dense, agonizing ache. I picked up the bottle of clear liquor and, right in front of her, downed the entire thing. The smile on Seri’s face faltered. She seemed to have forgotten that I’d sacrificed half my stomach for her. Seri was allergic to alcohol, but she couldn’t avoid it when running deals. I had taken over every single client meeting, every brutal, boozy dinner, drinking myself sick to close the deals. I’d nearly killed myself doing it, until I ended up needing half my stomach surgically removed. “Can we talk now?” My voice was raw and hoarse. My stomach twisted with a sickening cramp, and my vision swam. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw the blood drain from Seri’s face. 3 When I woke up in the hospital, Seri wasn’t there. The doctor stood by my bed, frowning at my chart. “Where is the family member?” I weakly shook my head. The doctor moved on to the next patient. The bed next to mine was occupied by a young couple. The girl was chattering, mostly scolding the boy for being clumsy, but the love in her eyes was palpable and pure. It was exactly how Seri used to look at me. My phone buzzed on the nightstand—a barrage of anonymous texts. Each one contained a new photo of Seri and Devin: matching couple tattoos, ziplining together, praying at an ancient mission, chasing the aurora borealis. Seri was right. She was happier with Devin. “Youth has its currency, Mr. Reed. Wouldn’t you agree?” Devin’s faintly mocking voice echoed in my mind, a challenge I couldn’t refute. Seri finally came in on the third day of my hospital stay. She sat by the bed, looking at me, her expression fraught. “Devin is young and careless. Don’t hold it against him.” Her first sentence was a defense of him. The dull, persistent ache in my heart sharpened into a fresh stab of pain. “Are you still hurting?” She held my hand, searching for the right words. “I forgot you couldn’t drink, but you knew that, Ash. Why did you do it? Were you genuinely trying to punish yourself?” Seeing my silence, Seri realized her mistake. She ran a restless hand through her hair, inadvertently exposing a faint red mark on her neck. Finally, she slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry.” I pulled my hand back, turning my gaze away from her. An odd, charged silence filled the room. For a brief period after that, Seri seemed to revert back to her old self. Perhaps it was guilt, perhaps a fleeting moment of conscience. For a few days, she was by my bedside almost constantly, watching me take my medication, personally preparing me bowls of restorative broth. It was almost like the beginning again. The time when she’d lost everything: the daughter of Manhattan Royalty, stripped of her empire overnight. Her parents, unable to face the ruin, took their own lives. I found Seri after she’d cut her wrists, and thankfully saved her life. From that moment, I swore I would protect her. In our hardest years, we lived in ten-dollar-a-night motels, sharing a single cup of instant ramen. She’d always sneak the one egg I could afford beneath the noodles, pretending she didn’t see my grueling hours running errands and taking odd jobs. Back then, getting sick was terrifying because we had no money for medicine or treatment. She would look out the motel’s rusted-out window at the skyscrapers and the endless traffic. “Ashton,” she used to say, “we have to get out of this place.” We did. We climbed out. But she changed. That night, the dim bedside lamp flickered. Seri sat slumped in the chair, half-asleep. I looked at her, greedily absorbing the sight. Then I looked away. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t stay this way. Her heart had long ago left this room. Sure enough, a call from Devin woke her up. She didn’t offer a single word of explanation, grabbed her coat, and rushed out of the hospital room. 4 The next day was supposed to be my discharge date. Seri called after she left. The gentle tone from the previous days was gone. “Devin’s been expelled from school.” Her voice was tight. “Was that your doing? He’s threatening to hurt himself now. If anything happens…” “Ashton, don’t push me.” She hung up before I could reply. News about Devin spread instantly. One viral post after another popped up: [They say Song Yu is a vindictive loser. Looks like Serena was right to want a divorce.] [Being fierce and chasing what you want is the Big Female Lead move. It takes guts. Ashton Reed is just a petty, jealous man going after a kid.] [Isn’t he the kept man? The useless house husband? Those men are the worst.] The public narrative was entirely against me. Even worse, Seri, who rarely posted anything personal, updated her social media: [Twenty-plus years of history with Ashton ends today. I refuse to tolerate a man who is content to be utterly unaccomplished.] Her statement threw me straight into the pyre. I quickly signed my discharge papers. Stepping out of the hospital, I was instantly surrounded by reporters. Their camera flashes blinded me. I felt like a public enemy. I fought my way out of the throng and drove home in a desperate, panicked state. When I pushed open the front door, Seri was sitting on the sofa. A news channel was playing on her tablet, showing my pale, desperate face from outside the hospital. “Was it you?” My voice was terribly hoarse. Seri didn’t deny it. Instead, she pushed a fresh copy of the divorce agreement towards me. “What I said was true, wasn’t it, Ashton? Haven’t I been the one supporting you for years?” Her eyes were cold. “You spread rumors, claiming he was a kept boy, a mistress, and you got his scholarship revoked. I never knew you were so full of such intense jealousy.” A hysterical laugh burst from me. All the humiliation and grievance of the past weeks finally erupted. “So you’re playing both sides in the media? Devin is a homewrecker! We’re still married! And why did I stop working? You know perfectly well why! That huge company of yours? I built that with my life!” Seri’s face instantly darkened. She slapped me, hard. The force sent a ringing echo through my ear. “No one made you help. You did it voluntarily. I would have built this company just fine without you.” Her voice rose, laced with contempt. “Haven’t I been good to you all these years? The big house, the luxury cars. What can you actually contribute? All you can do is use your sacrifices to make me feel guilty and chase my attention!” She leaned in, her voice low and furious. “You’re pathetic! You love these self-pitying martyrdom plays!” It was as if she were finally voicing every unspoken resentment she’d bottled up over the years. “You’re an embarrassment, Ashton. Devin is at least young and attractive, someone I’m not ashamed to be seen with. What do you offer me?” My eyes were bloodshot. The last flickering ember of hope in my heart was extinguished. All my recent efforts, all the self-delusion, felt like a cruel joke. In that moment of pure rage, people speak their deepest, ugliest truths. Seri was about to say something else. I snatched a pen from the desk and scrawled my name on the signature line. She opened her mouth, but the words were stuck. She picked up the signed agreement, flipping through the pages. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the paper bearing my name. “We’ll see each other at the Registry after the cooling-off period.” I met her eyes one last time. “Your company’s half equity… it’s mine. It’s what I paid for.” I threw the pen down, turned my back, and walked out of the house we had shared for ten years. I could feel Seri’s gaze burning into my back. This time, I was never looking back.

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I’m a D-list celebrity. Yet, because of a video, I accidentally went viral and hit the trending list. In the video, I was aggressively sniffing a kitten who looked like it had given up on life, laughing maniacally. “Whose little kitty is this~ Hohohaha~ It turns out it’s Mommy’s kitty, mua! mua! mua!” “A cute kitten like you~ mua~ was born to be kissed to death by Mommy~ mua” Then one day. Julian Fox, the movie emperor who is seen as cold and noble by outsiders, pinned me against the corner, a pair of fluffy fox ears popping out from his black hair. “Foxes are also very good to sniff, would you like to consider it?” Me: ?!! 1 I’m trending. Because of a video. It started when I was live streaming with fans at home, and forgot to turn off the camera during the break. So, completely unaware, I performed an inhumane act of aggressive sniffing on my orange cat, Can-Can, in front of the live camera. While sniffing, I laughed maniacally in a high-pitched voice. “Whose little kitty is this~ Hohohaha~ It turns out it’s Mommy’s little Can-Can, mua! mua! mua!” “You waving your tail in front of Mommy, isn’t it just to attract Mommy’s attention?…” “An indecent kitten like you, no one likes you, only Mommy, only Mommy loves you the most, hehehe…” “Those kittens outside, at this age, are already working in cat cafes to earn cans. You eat mine, live in mine, what’s wrong with me kissing you? muamuamua!” Finally, satisfied, I returned to the camera shamelessly: “Sorry everyone, my cat just pestered me for kisses, delayed a bit of time.” … After the video was uploaded online, it quickly went viral. Me, a D-list celebrity, stayed on the trending list for a whole night for the first time—— #Susan Destroys Cat# #Susan PUA Master# #Susan Eats Cat# #Susan Cat Virtue Class Principal# #Susan’s Laugh# To be honest, I was quite confused. For this, I specially went to read netizens’ comments under the trending video. “I personally tested Susan’s quotes, they are effective. Just practiced on my cat, now it’s wearing an apron cooking for me in the kitchen, afraid I’ll send it to work in a cat cafe.” “Told my rebellious son if he doesn’t behave I’ll send him to Susan for cat virtue training, in a blink of an eye saw him wearing stockings dancing on a pole in front of me, said he wants to keep my heart.” “I just tried laughing like Susan, now I’m at the police station, the Cat Squad sent a cat to arrest me, my cat called the police, said there’s a pervert.” Me: …Ridiculous. “How could she forget to turn off the camera? Obviously staged, isn’t it just wanting to be famous? And so many idiots believed it…” “Agree with upstairs, just a D-list wanting to be famous deliberately released it to attract attention.” “Am I the only one who thinks her state is very neurotic? Honestly, I suspect she secretly abuses cats privately…” “Are the people upstairs sick? So disgusting, can think of everything so darkly, starting to hate before she even gets famous?” “Pretty sister don’t mind those idiots, I just like beauties like you who look good but have a sick brain, fan now hahaha…” “I’m a fan too, but I’m doing it to see more of Can-Can in the future. Its look of having no desires and giving up on life while being kissed by Susan really kills me with laughter hahaha…” “Although but, am I the only one envious of that cat? Boohoo~ I also want to be kissed by the pretty sister, Susan really hits my aesthetic point…” “No, upstairs you are not alone…” … What surprised me even more was that the current top star in the entertainment industry, Julian Fox, actually liked this video and commented below: “Very cute.” Julian’s fans were in an uproar, don’t know if they were bored or what, followed the vine to find my Twitter. So the already confused me gained hundreds of thousands more followers. Me: ? I silently opened the comment section again. “Susan on the surface (noble and cold): Men? Not even worthy of carrying my shoes. Privately (rubbing hands and laughing foolishly): Hehehe, Mommy’s little Can-Can. Boohoo~ Who understands this contrast, sister kills me…” “Laughing to death hahaha, after reading all of Susan’s tweets, I say, brother is right, the cat is really cute, this sister is really crazy too…” “Agree with upstairs, I will really die of laughter in Susan’s Twitter, hahaha…” “Let’s just say, is there a possibility that Julian Fox said Susan is cute (dog head).” “Can-Can: No one speaks for me?” … In summary, I seem to be famous. Finally, I posted a tweet with Can-Can’s greasy paw-licking meme. Caption: Admit it girl, you have fallen deeply in love with brother. 2 After getting famous, my agent Lisa, who hadn’t contacted me once in eight hundred years, came to me on her own initiative. “Got you an audition for a drama, third female lead, a villain, but lots of scenes, the character setting is brilliant, and it’s Director Wang’s drama, seize the opportunity.” She seemingly unintentionally scanned my room, still looking serious: “By the way, Julian Fox liked that video… did you know each other before?” I shook my head, that’s not true. How could Julian know an unknown D-list like me? At most, I was an extra in the crew he was in before, he probably doesn’t even remember someone like me. I was also quite surprised that he liked my post. After all, Julian is known as the flower of the high ridge in the entertainment industry, cold and distant. Besides acting diligently, I’ve never seen him show enthusiasm for anything before, let alone this kind of entertainment news that passes with a laugh. Thinking about it, I can only attribute the reason to—— My Can-Can is really super invincible cute, even the ascetic Julian likes him… Lisa continued in a deep voice: “Regardless of whether you knew each other before, if you can get this role, having a good relationship with him in the crew won’t hurt you.” I nodded, just about to watch her leave, but saw her stop at the door, cleared her throat and seemingly unintentionally said: “Where’s your cat? Why didn’t I see it?” I blinked and said truthfully: “Just got tired playing with me, sleeping.” Lisa twitched her lips, a trace of imperceptible disappointment flashed in her eyes. I held back my laughter, reaching out as if to stay: “Need me to wake him up?” Lisa decisively pushed the door out, her always indifferent voice carried a trace of unnaturalness: “No need, I didn’t say I wanted to see it.” With the “bang” of the door closing, my eyes carried playfulness. Tsk. Just say it if you want to see my Can-Can. 3 In the past two years, I have acted in many dramas. Although they were all insignificant small supporting roles, my acting skills have indeed been tempered. The audition went smoothly, and I successfully got the role of the third female lead. I was very happy. This means I can make money to buy cans for my little Can-Can again. A few days later, I entered the crew of “Winds of L.A.”, entrusting Can-Can to my best friend Bella’s care. As Lisa said, although I am only the third female lead, I have quite a few scenes, especially in the early stage, I have a lot of rival scenes with the male lead, bouncing around until the middle and late stages before going offline. And this drama, strictly speaking, is actually a big male lead drama with a detective theme in a modern noir background. The female lead is a tool person assisting in solving cases throughout, with almost no romantic scenes. But even so, once the drama was warmed up, countless fans still took the lead in shipping Julian and Emma Zhao as a couple. Emma, naturally, is the female lead of this drama. Current top traffic flower, beautiful and good acting, standing with Julian can be said to be a talented man and a beautiful woman. It’s a pity… I looked at Emma who returned disappointed not far away and raised my eyebrows. It’s a pity that fans will be disappointed. Julian really doesn’t understand romance, even a goddess like Emma who evokes pity is shut out. And Julian over there, just finished the conversation with Emma, lowered his eyes and quietly looked at the script in his hand. From my angle, the side profile is exquisite, the brow bone is superior. He was still wearing that dark cyan suit costume, thin and straight, with a calm temperament, really like a cold and jade-like noble son. Phone vibrated, best friend Bella sent a message. “Is Julian really handsome in person? Does he look worse in real life?” Naturally he is handsome. I was an extra in the same crew as him before. Looking from afar at that time, I felt he was extremely good-looking. Acting with him at close range yesterday gave me a more intuitive understanding of his beauty. What’s more… I looked at Julian’s quiet side profile not far away again. Then added a sentence after replying to Bella “Top-tier beauty, worthy of the reputation”. “He has a small black mole next to his Adam’s apple, very sexy.” I recalled for a moment, silently added. “Want to lick.” 4 One week after joining the group, I took time to video call Bella during the break on set. Haven’t seen for a week, missed Can-Can. And on the screen, it was Can-Can waving his tail and posing. I watched with burning desire, wishing I could rush into the screen and execute Can-Can on the spot. Cat-crazed me spoke without thinking: “Damn it!” “Vixen, wait till I come back and play you to death!” As soon as my voice fell, the surroundings seemed to be silent for a moment. Immediately after, there were whispering discussions. “Did you hear that? So Susan has a boyfriend…” “Tsk, can’t tell the young couple plays quite wild…” I froze, raised my eyes with hindsight, and met a pair of cold and indifferent eyes. It was Julian. He pursed his lips, still looking indifferent, but I seemed to see a trace of imperceptible shock in his eyes. Me: … I reacted for a moment, quickly showed him the phone screen, explaining: “Don’t misunderstand, I was video calling my cat just now.” I thought for a moment, then deliberately raised my volume and said seriously to the screen: “Can-Can, come! Meow a couple of nice ones for everyone.” Can-Can is indeed my good son, very obediently shook his tail and “ao” twice at the screen. And in order to let everyone hear clearly, I specially turned up the volume. “Meow~~” The meow was tender and long, soul-destroying. My heart burned listening to it, restrainedly pinched my fist. Damn, sooner or later die on Can-Can. At this time, there were surprised discussions from others. “Holy crap, clip sound (cutesy voice) cat!” “Why does this cat meow so erotically? Isn’t this an edge-ball (suggestive) cat? Meowing my soul away.” “Sure enough not a serious cat, no wonder Susan…” “They say cats resemble owners, I suspect Susan usually has…” Me: ? Hearing them speaking more and more excessively, I pulled my lips in a sneer, threatening the few people: “Watch your mouth! Be careful my Brother Baozi (Treasure) calls his cat brothers to throw cat poop at your window tonight.” The few people silenced decisively. And Julian at this time also looked at the few people, his handsome face slightly dark, expression cold. “Director Wang complained to me that the crew’s expenses are high. If you are really free, I think we can appropriately reduce manpower.” The few people scattered dejectedly. I naturally could see Julian was speaking for me, remembering Lisa’s instructions, I said to him with a solemn face: “Teacher Fox don’t be afraid! I, Can-Can-kun, serious dead dead di (very serious)!” I leaned close to him, serious: “Can-Can-kun, big big good cat, won’t throw poop randomly, you, don’t believe, I scare them.” Julian: … He lowered his eyes to meet mine, and after two seconds, actually bent his lips and laughed. He was born handsome and elegant, usually never seen smiling. At this time, lowering his eyes and smiling slightly, truly amazed people to the extreme. Damn it! The desire accumulated on Can-Can for a long time without venting poured out at this moment. Ultimately couldn’t hold back, I clutched my chest and blurted out dirty words to Julian: “Here, thump thump di!” … Afterwards, chatting with Bella. “And then? What did Julian say to you?” I recalled, replied to Bella: “Didn’t speak, couldn’t take teasing, ears turned red.” I looked up at Julian who was quietly reading the script with lowered eyes not far away. Perhaps my gaze was too burning, he seemed to sense it, raised his eyes to meet mine. Our gazes entangled. Half a minute later, he lost the battle, moved his gaze away first. I hooked my lips, slowly revealing a victorious smile, then messaged Bella: “He seems to get shy easily.” I immediately sent a lecherous meme: “Want to bully.”

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The first thing I did after being reborn was swap the water in the pesticide bottle with real poison. In my past life, just as our family became the first in town to save ten thousand dollars, my husband Julian Reed failed in his business venture, racking up a debt of $130,000. Guilt-ridden, Julian said he didn’t want to drag me and my mother-in-law down, and drank pesticide to commit suicide. To prevent debt collectors from taking everything, my mother-in-law hid the family’s last bit of savings inside his coffin. When the debt collectors couldn’t find any money, they forcibly occupied our house. To protect my mother-in-law, I had my leg broken by them. Unexpectedly, during the funeral, Julian’s coffin caught fire, and all the money burned to ashes. I shouldered the burden of the family alone, working day and night to pay off debts, and cared for my mother-in-law until her death. I ended up riddled with illness, my hair turning gray prematurely. Just when I was reduced to scavenging for recyclables on the roadside to survive, I bumped into my husband—who had been “dead” for years—walking down the street with another woman and a child, looking glamorous and wealthy. “Julian, you were so smart. By faking your death back then, you got rid of the debt and still had money to marry me.” Julian replied indifferently, “It was that woman who was too stupid. Since she occupied your rightful place, it was only fair she paid the price with her money and labor.” I couldn’t believe my ears and died on the spot from a sudden heart attack caused by intense anger. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Julian drank pesticide to fake his death. … 1 “Chloe, I’ve failed you. Not only did I lose all our family’s savings, but I also owe $130,000. I deserve to die!” “I can’t drag you two down. A bottle of pesticide, and the debt dies with me!” My husband, Julian Reed, knelt before me, crying bitterly, having even prepared a coffin to show his resolve. With tears streaming down his face and filled with remorse, he raised the pesticide bottle to his mouth. In my last life, I was too shocked to stop him in time. This time, I acted quickly, pouncing on him and gripping his wrist tightly, tilting the bottle mouth outwards. The entire bottle of “pesticide” spilled onto his clothes and the ground; not a single drop went down Julian’s throat. Ignoring Julian’s ugly expression, I threw away the bottle and grabbed his hands. “Hubby, money isn’t more important than your life. Don’t do anything foolish!” “No matter how hard it is, there will be a way out. I’ll give you my dowry to pay off the debt, let’s figure this out together!” I looked at him with concern, acting entirely for his sake. Hearing “dowry,” a look of greed instantly burst into his eyes, and he asked urgently: “Really? You’re willing to give me your dowry?” I sneered internally. Acting so hard just for my dowry money. “Of course. We are husband and wife. Who else would I help if not you?” After much persuasion, Julian pretended to give up the idea of suicide and happily went to get my dowry. Seeing the excitement he couldn’t hide in his eyes, my heart went cold. In my last life, Julian cheated me out of my dowry under the guise of paying debts. Then he faked his death by drinking “pesticide,” taking all the family’s money to live happily with another woman. I, on the other hand, was beaten by debt collectors for protecting my mother-in-law and his empty coffin, breaking my leg and shouldering a huge debt. In the end, after caring for my mother-in-law and paying debts all my life, I could only make a living by collecting scrap. Julian, however, remarried and lived happily as a family of three. Thank God for giving me a second chance. Since my husband wants to drink pesticide, water won’t do. Let’s make it real. 2 I took out all my dowry and gave it to Julian, telling him to pay the debts. My mother-in-law, who always disliked me, was also suspicious of my sudden generosity. I wiped my tears and said, “Mom, Julian and I are one. His debt is my debt. Even if I have to eat chaff and vegetables, I will help him pay it back.” “Good thing you still have some money. Whether we have meat to eat in the future depends on you.” My mother-in-law immediately became alert and glared at me unhappily. “I knew you didn’t have good intentions. That’s my coffin money, why should it be spent on you!” She turned into the room, took out her own money, and handed it to Julian. “Son, take this money too!” The two exchanged glances constantly. Julian accepted it without a second thought, taking almost all the money in the house. I knew he wouldn’t use it to pay debts. He would just take the money and run, leaving the $130,000 debt entirely on my head. But it didn’t matter. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to use any of it. Early the next morning, the sound of the gate slamming came from the yard. A group of tall, burly men surged to our doorstep, each looking fierce. The leader had a scar on his cheekbone. He kicked open the courtyard gate, his stick hitting the stone hard, making a loud noise. “Julian Reed, time to pay back the money you owe us, right?” In my last life, when this group came, he had already faked his death and run away. This time, I wouldn’t let him have his way. I decisively hid behind Julian, my voice tearful. “Who are you people? What are you doing in my house? Hubby, save me!” I conveniently pushed Julian forward, making him stand at the very front. Julian’s face turned pale when he saw them, shivering subconsciously. His legs trembled as he swallowed hard. “Brother Zhang, $130,000 is too much, I really can’t pay it back…” Brother Zhang grinned hideously, the scar on his face twitching. “Can’t pay? You didn’t say you couldn’t pay when you borrowed it. Don’t think about welching on the debt!” The commotion attracted nearby neighbors; several people peeked in. But no one dared to come forward, watching from a distance. “Wasn’t Julian Reed just the first millionaire in the village? Didn’t expect him to owe $130,000 in a blink of an eye.” “It’ll take lifetimes to pay this off. Might as well not have done business.” “This is great. Not only did he not make money, but creditors are knocking on his door.” More and more people gathered to watch, discussing animatedly. Julian’s face flushed red, and he shouted: “I have no money, just my life! Since you’re pushing me so hard, I’ll pay you with my life!” Brother Zhang sneered, looking at him mockingly: “Is your life even worth $130,000?” He thought Julian was threatening him, but the next second, Julian took out a pesticide bottle. “Death cancels debt. Chloe, for you and Mom, let my life make amends!” “After I die, put me in the coffin I bought. Don’t waste money, bury me early!” He had a look of heroic sacrifice on his face, not forgetting to clear his name. After speaking, he picked up the bottle and guzzled it down. He drank urgently and quickly, fearing I would stop him. Everyone was stunned, watching Julian throw the bottle away and start foaming at the mouth, convulsing all over. I threw myself over, crying, “Hubby, don’t leave me, how can I live without you?” Before I could get close, my mother-in-law wailed and hugged Julian as he fell to the ground. “My son, how can you make your mother bury her child? I only have one son!” She acted like a mother hen protecting her chick, shoving me hard. “Don’t come over, no one come near my son!” I took the opportunity to sit on the ground, several meters away from them, burying my face in my hands and crying, looking helpless. Brother Zhang frowned, watching Julian rolling his eyes and drooling, spat in disgust. “You have guts. But don’t think dying lets you escape the debt. Brothers, we’ll come back tomorrow!” The debt collectors left. Julian lay in my mother-in-law’s arms, really on the brink of death. Cold sweat broke out all over his body, twitching continuously. The onlookers were also shocked. A kind-hearted person said: “Better send him to the hospital quickly. Immediate rescue might still save his life.” My mother-in-law retorted: “What hospital? They’re all scams! Do you think my family doesn’t owe enough money? Wasting it in such a place!” She held Julian tightly, refusing to let go no matter what anyone said. 3 Seeing Julian’s breathing getting weaker, he tremblingly pulled at my mother-in-law’s sleeve. “Mom, save… save…” My mother-in-law thought it was about the money and quickly said, “Son, don’t worry, we won’t let you down. We’ll hide the money well.” Julian shook his head desperately, but to outsiders, it was just a weak movement. He barely made a sound: “Help…” I immediately started crying loudly, wailing at the top of my lungs: “Hubby, why are you so miserable? Forced to this point, don’t die wuwuwu…” Julian couldn’t catch his breath, eyes rolled back, almost passing out. A neighbor aunt urged me: “Chloe, hurry up and take your man to the hospital. Even the village clinic is better than waiting here to die!” I cried deliriously, reacting slowly to get up, but my mother-in-law rushed over to stop me. “You’re not allowed to go! Julian is lying here, you don’t care about him, running to find what doctor!” She obstructed in every way. Others couldn’t help but say: “Julian’s mom, Julian isn’t dead yet, gotta find a doctor to save his life! You won’t go yourself, why stop his wife!” My mother-in-law couldn’t say it out loud, stammering. At this moment, a voice came from the crowd: “Make way, let me take a look!” Someone shouted in surprise: “Dr. Chen!” Dr. Chen from the village clinic happened to pass by and ran over. Seeing Julian’s face, he immediately said gravely: “The condition is very bad, must be sent to a big hospital for rescue immediately.” My mother-in-law hugged him tighter: “No!” Dr. Chen, with a doctor’s benevolence, couldn’t care less at this moment and directly grabbed the person from my mother-in-law. He looked anxious, shouting: “It’ll be too late if we delay! Folks, come help! Saving a life is better than building a seven-story pagoda!” Neighbors came to help lift him, some persuaded my mother-in-law to seek medical help, and some went to get their tricycles. The scene was chaotic. When the vehicle arrived, everyone worked together to lift Julian onto the tricycle. My mother-in-law grabbed the wheel, crying and shouting: “Where are you taking my son? Give him back to me!” I persuaded with red eyes: “Mom, the doctor said Julian can still be saved, he can definitely be cured!” My mother-in-law became even more agitated, screaming: “No! Who knows if you are really saving him?” “I know my son, he’s hopeless, no need to go to the hospital!” Everyone was shocked by her decisive words, finding it inconceivable. “You are his biological mother! Letting your son wait for death without even trying is too vicious.” My mother-in-law said angrily: “What do you know? I have my reasons!” Nobody understood her reasons, but the next moment, everyone saw the dying Julian start vomiting violently. At first, it was vomit, and people around instinctively covered their noses and stepped back. A few seconds later, Julian began to vomit blood. Large amounts of fresh blood gushed from his mouth, as if a big hole had been punched in his stomach. Everyone was immersed in the shock of Julian suddenly vomiting blood. My mother-in-law had already rushed over and snatched him back. She put her hands on her hips and shouted: “I said don’t send him to the hospital! Now look, moving him around made my son vomit blood!” The neighbor aunt spat and scolded my mother-in-law: “We kindly tried to save your son, even brought out the tricycle. Only you kept blocking us. Now saving people is wrong?” I tried my best to persuade: “Mom, if you keep blocking, Julian will really be hopeless!” My mother-in-law turned and slapped me: “You slut, your man just died and you’re already siding with outsiders against me!” I covered my face and cried: “But Julian has been vomiting blood!” Julian’s blood seemed endless. After being put on the ground by my mother-in-law, blood flowed from his mouth to both sides, pooling in a small puddle under him. My mother-in-law looked back and panicked a bit, hugging Julian. “Julian, we won’t go to the hospital. Stop vomiting blood, it’s okay now.” Others looked at my mother-in-law like she was crazy, but I knew she thought Julian was acting. Dr. Chen took the opportunity to run over and check Julian repeatedly, checking his pulse. When Julian stopped moving, he retracted his hand, expression solemn. “Too late. Drank too much pesticide, stomach corroded by poison. My condolences.” My mother-in-law subconsciously refuted: “Impossible, you quack!” She glared viciously at Dr. Chen, but didn’t notice Julian’s face was pale and lips purple. I said faintly: “Mom, you don’t know how to treat illnesses, but you can tell if a person is breathing or not, right?” Hearing this, my mother-in-law looked at Julian’s dead face, tremblingly reached out her hand under his nose. Two seconds later, her face turned pale, and she slumped to the ground. 4 My mother-in-law looked at Julian in disbelief, fear and shock written all over her face. She grabbed Julian’s shoulders and shook him back and forth: “Julian, Julian wake up!” But Julian was truly dead, dead as a doornail, his head drooping weakly, no response. My mother-in-law shook Julian like crazy, pinching his philtrum and lifting his eyelids, as if delayed grief had finally appeared. Her movements became more and more frantic, suddenly pouncing on Dr. Chen, pulling his clothes and crying loudly. “Dr. Chen, look at my son, look at him quickly, what’s wrong with him?” Dr. Chen wondered: “You wouldn’t send him to the hospital just now, now he’s not breathing, what’s the use.” “Look at his constricted pupils, that’s a symptom of pesticide poisoning.” My mother-in-law jumped up, face flushed: “Absolutely impossible, how could my son have pesticide poisoning!” The neighbors looked at her with strange eyes: “Everyone saw Julian drink a bottle of pesticide. If not pesticide poisoning, what else could it be?” My mother-in-law’s face turned pale. Only then did she remember the pesticide bottle thrown in the corner at the beginning. She ran over to pick it up, smelled it carefully, and found it was real pesticide inside, not water at all! She realized the biggest loophole in the plan. Julian wanted to fake his death but accidentally drank real pesticide. The previous symptoms were real, vomiting blood wasn’t acting. Julian was poisoned to death by a bottle of pesticide, missing the best time for rescue. My mother-in-law regretted it deeply. She really thought Julian hadn’t drunk pesticide and tried every means to stop him from being sent to the doctor. Unexpectedly, he was cold. Looking at the dirty corpse on the ground, I felt incredibly gratified. At this time, my mother-in-law ran over and slapped me hard, pointing at me and cursing. “Bitch, was it you? You gave Julian pesticide to drink!” “You have such a vicious heart. Julian is your man, and you poisoned him to death!” Her eyes were scarlet, looking at me with hatred. My head turned from the slap, face burning and swelling up. I immediately said aggrievedly: “Mom, what are you saying? In broad daylight, Julian drank this pesticide himself. He even said death cancels debt. Isn’t that a death wish!” “I couldn’t stop him. I wanted to save him and send Julian to the hospital.” “It was you who insisted on stopping me, not letting me go, saying I was siding with outsiders!” Tears fell like a flood from an open gate. I cried breathlessly. Counting out every incident, my mother-in-law instantly became an unreasonable crazy woman. The neighbors came with good intentions to save a life but were despised by my mother-in-law. They were already unhappy, and now they mocked her even more. “Julian’s mom, are you senile? First you said your son was hopeless, then you wanted to save him. Now that he’s really dead, you blame your daughter-in-law.” “Crazy, must be something wrong with her brain.” “I think she’s targeting Chloe, deliberately pinning the blame on her, wanting to push the fault of killing someone onto her.” “Pah, serves him right to die, brought it on himself!” One sentence after another, everyone scolded my mother-in-law bloody. And I, with the slap mark from trying to save him earlier still on my face, was just a pitiful woman whose husband died. My mother-in-law rolled her eyes in anger, chest heaving. “What do you know? My son was alive and well.” Everyone thought she was crazy with grief. Dr. Chen sighed. “Although no need for treatment, better send him for cremation quickly. Bodies rot easily in summer.” Hearing this, my mother-in-law stammered again. She didn’t express her stance for a long time. Another voice popped up from the crowd. “Cannot cremate! Julian said he wanted a burial!”

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