Category: English

1 May 20th. My boyfriend and I headed to Prospect Park Lake to take some instant photos. When the pictures developed, I noticed a faint, unsettling detail: a woman in a pink dress, barely visible, standing behind my boyfriend in the shot. I asked him if he saw anything unusual, and he flatly denied it. As I described her features – her long, dark hair, the delicate lace on her dress – a cold sweat broke out on his brow. I thought that was the end of it. But then, it wasn’t just that one photo. Our wedding portraits at home, even selfies on my phone… they all started to show the same woman in pink. My boyfriend, Alex Stone, finally admitted it. It was Kiera Vance, his ex-girlfriend. But he swore they’d broken up three years ago. He tried to contact Kiera’s parents. Over the phone, they insisted they didn’t know him at all. And they’d never had a daughter named Kiera Vance… “Alex Stone, what else are you hiding from me?!” The phone clicked dead, and in that instant, the man standing before me felt like a complete stranger. What secret was he keeping from me? Just before taking that instant photo, he’d pulled out a ring and proposed. We’d even set a wedding date. But now, with this unfolding horror, my mind was a chaotic mess. After a tense silence, Alex suggested we take the photo directly to the police. At the precinct, I handed the officer the sketch I’d drawn of the woman in pink. “Officer, could you please look into this young woman’s information?” The officer searched for a long time, but found nothing. “There’s no record of a person matching this description.” “That’s impossible, Officer! I even lived with her for a year. Old photos, right!” Alex fumbled for his phone, scrolling furiously through his gallery. He paused, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I got a new phone two years ago, and all the old pictures are gone.” “Can they be recovered?” “You’d need your old phone for that. And the police department can’t recover them. You’ll have to take it to a specialized shop.” Back home, Alex began frantically searching for his old phone while I looked for our old shared photos. Before we left, I checked: every single photo I had with him seemed to include Kiera Vance. But now, as I pulled them out again, Kiera was gone. And on that instant photo… her original sorrowful expression had twisted into a faint smile. I gasped, dropping the photo to the floor in sheer terror. “Found it!” Alex’s old phone was ancient, its camera pixelated, at least eight years old. He’d lost it once before, taking a picture of me by Prospect Park Lake, when it slipped from his grasp and plunged into the water. Out of guilt, I’d bought him a new one. We found a phone repair shop. The owner was a surprisingly young, clear-faced guy. Alex leaned in, whispering to me, “He’s so young. Can he really fix it?” To our surprise, the owner overheard him. He looked up, a sharp glint in his eyes. “If you don’t trust me, the door’s to your left.” I tugged on Alex’s arm, then handed the phone over. “How long will it take to recover the photos?” The owner didn’t even lift his gaze. “Five minutes,” he mumbled. Seeing his swift movements and the reasonable price, Alex and I waited anxiously. Ring! Ring! Ring! Alex’s phone rang. It was his parents. His face grew darker with each passing second. “Avery, stay here. There’s a drawing of Kiera Vance on my parents’ front door!” His words sent a chill down my spine. I nodded. After Alex left, the owner handed me the phone. When he looked up, I froze. The boy before me bore a striking resemblance to Kiera—almost a spitting image. He lowered his voice. “Sis, it’s Kyle.” My body stiffened, but I quickly regained my composure. “The photos are recovered, but there’s a hidden album that needs a password.” Taking the phone, I eagerly opened the album. Most of them were everyday shots, with only a few solo pictures of Alex. It seemed Kiera’s photos were indeed in the hidden album. I tentatively entered Alex’s birthday. Incorrect password. I had no choice but to take the phone to Alex’s parents’ house. The moment I stepped through the door, Mrs. Stone flung a dirty rag at my face. “Was it you?! Trying to scare two old people like us?!” I was stunned by the sudden accusation. Alex stepped in front of me, shielding me. “Mom, can you just stop? Avery has nothing to do with this!” “Impossible! You’re the only one who saw Kiera Vance’s photos! That drawing on our door must be your doing!” I retreated to the hallway, examining the drawing on the door. It was an exact replica of Kiera from the instant photo. The paint wasn’t even completely dry; it must have been drawn just hours ago. “Mrs. Stone, I know you’ve never liked me, but Alex and I have been together this whole time. How could I have had time to come here and draw this?” “She’s right, Mom. Your mental state hasn’t been stable lately. Let me handle this. You just stay out of it.” Mrs. Stone wept, hitting her legs, muttering. “Arthur, look at your son. He’s taking a stranger’s side now. He doesn’t even trust his own mother anymore.” Annoyed, I left the Stone house. Alex had proposed to me a year into our relationship, but I couldn’t stand his mother’s temper; she was incredibly peculiar. Alex explained that she’d suffered a trauma once, which had affected her mentally. 2 I asked him what kind of trauma, and he just said it was because his father, Arthur Stone, had died, but he never really explained the specifics. As I walked downstairs, Alex caught up to me, trying to coax me. I ignored him, but then he simply dropped to his knees. “Baby, this is a time when we need to face things together. Please don’t be mad at me, or at my mom. How much longer does she have? Our future is just for us.” I nodded, then handed Alex the phone and asked if he remembered Kiera’s birthday. Alex tried the password three more times, but it still wouldn’t unlock. “That’s odd. I’m sure Kiera’s birthday was this.” Alex was about to try a fifth time. But the system flashed a message: Too many incorrect attempts. Next attempt available in three days. Frustrated, this lead was dead too. “Alex, do you really know how Kiera died?” I gazed at the instant photo. Kiera’s expression hadn’t changed. I hadn’t noticed it before, but her clothes were wet, the pink dress clinging to her thin shoulders. After telling Alex my theory, his expression grew uneasy. “Are you still hiding something from me?” I stared directly into Alex’s eyes. “Given how things are now, if you hide anything else from me, we’re through!” After a long silence, Alex finally spoke. “Kiera might have drowned.” Alex said that whenever Kiera and he argued, she would threaten to jump into the river. And on the day they broke up, she’d said the same thing. “Then why didn’t you tell me this before?” This was a crucial clue, and Alex had kept it from me. “Because… because Kiera cheated on me! That time I took Mom to Prospect Park Lake, I accidentally saw Kiera with another man… I was too embarrassed to tell you.” A sudden realization struck me: Alex’s head was glowing green with deceit. “What did that man look like? He might be the key to finding Kiera!” “I only remember he was carrying a dirty duffel bag, and he was covered in grime. He must have just arrived in the city.” Alex wracked his brain but couldn’t recall any specific facial features. “Maybe we can check the surveillance footage around Prospect Park Lake from that day.” Alex and I went to the precinct again. But to our disappointment, that particular spot was a blind area for the cameras. Nothing could be seen. The police said it was common for many girls from rural backgrounds not to have birth certificates, so it was normal not to find them in the system. But Alex said, “No, that’s not right. Kiera came from a good family. Her demeanor was nothing like someone from the countryside.” “Oh, right, Avery, give me my old phone!” He opened the notes app. There was an address listed. Alex said Kiera had given it to him before. Following that address might lead us somewhere. When Alex and I arrived at Kiera’s supposed address, I was shocked. It was a sprawling estate in a gated community. Alex sighed. “Now do you believe Kiera wasn’t some unregistered girl from the countryside?” A security guard stopped us at the gate. “Hello, we’re looking for Kiera Vance. Does she live here?” The guard claimed not to know anyone by that name. I handed him Kiera’s sketch. He looked at it for a long time, then said, “I remember this person. She applied for a housekeeper position five years ago!” “You remember someone you met five years ago, just once?” Neither Alex nor I believed the guard. “Heh heh, because she was so beautiful, that’s why I remember her…” The guard’s face flushed as he spoke, making it seem like he wasn’t making it up. “Did she go somewhere after that? Do you remember?” The guard thought for a long time, then shook his head. “Are there any surveillance archives from back then?” “Our security footage is only archived for one year. Anything from five years ago would definitely be gone.” On the way back, Alex stared out the window, motionless. “At least we can confirm now that Kiera Vance really existed. All we can do now is wait.” I placed my hand on Alex’s, trying to comfort him. Seeing his low spirits, I changed the subject. “Alex, perhaps you could tell me about your father?”

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A month before the final exams, I casually posted an update celebrating my daughter-in-law’s pregnancy. Little did I know, the new intern teacher screenshot it and shared it in the parent group. The group instantly erupted, a boiling cauldron of outrage: “Only a month until final exams, is it appropriate for the homeroom teacher’s daughter-in-law to be pregnant right now?!” “This is the crucial sprint stage! Who will take responsibility if it delays our children?!” “Anyway, your daughter-in-law is still young. Just terminate the pregnancy now and plan for a baby after the exams!” I rubbed my eyes, unable to believe the words scrolling across the parent group chat. My daughter-in-law was pregnant – how did that suddenly become my responsibility as the homeroom teacher and mother-in-law? Seeing my refusal, the parents banded together, storming the school, even demanding that I relinquish my position to the new intern teacher. Their words, veiled in insinuation, painted me as too old, too burdened with personal affairs, unlike the young, pretty intern who was “up-to-date.” In a fit of rage, I immediately resigned, taking early retirement. Yet, after the final exams, why did my class’s acceptance rate to top universities become the lowest in the entire grade? 1 My son and his wife had been married for five years, trying to conceive for three. My daughter-in-law was finally pregnant. I instinctively posted an update on social media. The next second, Miss Hailey Grant, the new intern teacher, liked it, then screenshotted it and posted it in the class group chat: “Congratulations to Mrs. Vance on becoming a grandmother! After waiting so long, it’s finally happening. Mrs. Vance, you must shower your daughter-in-law with attention!” The usually quiet class group suddenly buzzed with notifications. A parent, whose contact was saved as “Kayla Johnson’s Mom,” tagged me: “Mrs. Vance, is that your daughter-in-law who’s pregnant on your social media?” I politely replied, “Yes,” and she immediately shot back: “Forgive my bluntness, but with only a month until the final exams, is it really appropriate for your daughter-in-law to be pregnant right now?” Kevin Chen’s mom chimed in: “The last month is crucial for the sprint. Who will take responsibility if it delays our children?” I quickly clarified: “Parents, I think there’s a misunderstanding. It’s my daughter-in-law who’s pregnant, not me. It won’t affect the students.” But the parents wouldn’t back down: “You can’t say that. With a pregnant daughter-in-law, a mother-in-law is bound to be preoccupied. Naturally, less energy will be dedicated to the students.” “A senior year homeroom teacher must be fully dedicated to the students’ needs. The final exams are a life-altering event!” Once the floodgates opened, other parents echoed the sentiment: “I agree with Kayla Johnson’s mom!” “A graduating class homeroom teacher should put in more effort than other teachers!” “I propose that Mrs. Vance’s daughter-in-law terminate the pregnancy!” I was shaking with anger—not only the immense physical harm of such a procedure, but these parents were overstepping their bounds! Kayla Johnson’s mom even started a poll in the group: “Vote ‘support’ if you back Mrs. Vance’s daughter-in-law terminating the pregnancy!” Soon, 45 parents responded, with 40 supporting the motion. I suppressed my fury and replied: “My daughter-in-law’s pregnancy is a private family matter, no need for your concern! The final exam sprint plan was set three months ago and will absolutely not be affected!” Kayla Johnson’s mom called me directly: “Mrs. Vance, don’t mind me interfering, but during the final exam sprint, everything must prioritize the students. You’ve been a teacher for over thirty years; you should understand this principle. While it’s still early, hurry to the hospital and terminate the pregnancy. You can always have another one after the exams.” I cut her off. “My daughter-in-law’s pregnancy is my private matter. You have no right to interfere.” With that, I hung up, wearily pinching the bridge of my nose. Since the start of senior year, I had worked tirelessly, practically living at school 24/7 except for sleep, sacrificing almost all my personal time for my students. Now, they were brazenly demanding my daughter-in-law terminate her pregnancy! I thought stating my position would end it, but two days later, another incident unfolded. 2 Early one Saturday morning, as I was accompanying my daughter-in-law for her prenatal check-up, my phone suddenly buzzed with continuous notifications. Juggling breakfast in one hand and her appointment slip in the other, I fumbled for my phone in my bag—Kayla Johnson’s mom had sent four or five more messages in the group: “Mrs. Vance, Kayla accidentally lost her comprehensive Chinese test paper from yesterday!” “Please snap a picture of the test so I can print a new copy for her to do!” “Tell me which questions Kayla got wrong so I can help her focus on reviewing them!” “Mrs. Vance, where are you?” “Please reply?” I was about to respond when our turn for registration came up. I shoved my phone back into my pocket, intending to reply after we were done. After registering, paying the fees, and settling my daughter-in-law into the examination room, I finally pulled out my phone to message Kayla Johnson’s mom. Kayla Johnson’s Mom, I’m sorry, I was just with my daughter-in-law for a check-up at the hospital, so I couldn’t reply immediately. The test papers are all at school. Please wait a moment; I’ll head to school to take pictures after her check-up is done. It was Saturday, a day off, so I thought this explanation would be understood. The next second, Kayla Johnson’s mom sent four consecutive voice messages into the group. “Mrs. Vance, yesterday I said your daughter-in-law’s pregnancy would distract you, and you insisted it wouldn’t!” “Today I asked you for a test paper, and it took you twenty minutes to get back to me!” “Do you know? In twenty minutes, Kayla could have finished an entire page of problems! If you’d given it to me sooner, wouldn’t Kayla be done by now?” Before I could even explain, Miss Hailey Grant suddenly replied in the group. “Kayla Johnson’s Mom, I’m the intern Chinese teacher for our class. I’ve already sent you the test paper privately.” “I apologize for the delay. It was mainly due to traffic on my way to school. Next time, I’ll definitely reply sooner.” “It’s Mrs. Vance’s first time becoming a grandmother, so she’s bound to be a little preoccupied. As parents, we should all try to understand.” Hailey was a fresh college graduate this year and also the principal’s niece. Our high school was a top-ranked public high school, generally not hiring teachers without any teaching experience. Hailey had just graduated this year and was admitted exceptionally due to her connection with the principal. Hailey’s words made me deeply uncomfortable. I had been teaching this class since freshman year. On weekdays, I always addressed any parent concerns or questions immediately. Since senior year began, I had sacrificed my personal time countless times to tutor weaker students. Take Kayla Johnson, for example: for three consecutive Saturdays, I went to her home to tutor her for free, all because I wanted every student to face the final exams in their best condition. Now, my daughter-in-law was pregnant, and it was wrong for me, as a mother-in-law, to accompany her for a check-up on my day off? Before I could explain in the group, Kayla Johnson’s mom sent another message. “Look at her, a fellow teacher, then look at yourself.” “Mrs. Vance, it’s a shame you’re even a homeroom teacher! If a homeroom teacher of a top class can’t prioritize students, then they don’t deserve the title.” Several other parents quickly echoed her: “Exactly, Mrs. Vance, you need to understand, teaching is your primary job. We entrusted our children to you because we trust you. Don’t betray our trust.” “No matter what, a teacher must always put students first.” “We’ll let it slide today, but we hope Mrs. Vance learns from Miss Grant in the future and doesn’t let her personal affairs interfere with students’ studies.” The parents who spoke were usually on good terms with me; I had even tutored their children for free at their homes on several occasions. I was stunned that they actually agreed with Kayla Johnson’s mom. Suppressing my tears, I replied sincerely in the group, aiming to de-escalate the situation: I’ve received your criticism. It won’t happen again. Later, during morning self-study, as I was leading the students in reading aloud, seven or eight parents, led by Kayla Johnson’s mom, stormed into the classroom. Kayla Johnson’s mom, her face stern and aggressive, confronted me directly. “Mrs. Vance, would you mind stepping out for a moment? We parents have something to discuss with you.” I asked the class president to maintain order, then followed the parents out of the classroom. The moment I stepped out, Kayla Johnson’s mom handed me a piece of paper. I took it, and it was a hospital appointment slip for a pregnancy termination. 3 Kayla Johnson’s mom spoke with an air of announcing a decision. “Mrs. Vance, given your performance yesterday, I and a few other parents in the class have discussed it and decided that your daughter-in-law should still terminate the pregnancy.” “This is the appointment notice for the procedure that I and the other parents booked.” “Take a look. If it’s alright, please take your daughter-in-law to the hospital for the surgery today.” Kevin Chen’s mom chimed in support. “Exactly, if the teacher isn’t taking action, we parents have to take matters into our own hands.” “If you have classes, a few of us parents can personally accompany your daughter-in-law to the hospital for the procedure.” I stared at the parents in disbelief. Each of their faces wore an expression of ‘we’re doing this for your own good.’ My hands trembled with rage, but I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice calm. “Yesterday was just an accident. I promise all of you that I will dedicate twelve-tenths of my energy to seeing the students through this last month.” Kayla Johnson’s mom scoffed. “The final exams are a life-changing event. As parents, we must eliminate all distractions.” “Everyone here is a woman, and we’ve all been pregnant and had children. Morning sickness, threatened miscarriage, these are common in early pregnancy. You’ll definitely be distracted caring for your daughter-in-law then.” “A person’s energy is limited. If you’re busy with family, you’ll naturally become lax with students.” “We can’t risk our children’s entire future on a gamble.” I felt dizzy with anger, my blood rising. Mrs. Davis, the Chinese teacher from the next class, quickly rushed out to support me. “Parents, please rest assured. Mrs. Vance has been a teacher for thirty-five years. Not only is she highly experienced, but she is also incredibly dedicated and responsible towards her students.” “Before, when Mrs. Vance’s husband was hospitalized, she didn’t take a single day off.” “Let alone her daughter-in-law’s pregnancy. With Mrs. Vance’s dedicated and responsible attitude, she absolutely will not delay the children’s progress.” The parents were about to say more when they were suddenly interrupted by a clear, sweet female voice. “Mrs. Vance, your daughter-in-law came looking for you. She said she’d like to eat your braised pork ribs and asked if you could cook them for her this afternoon.” 4 I turned my head to see Miss Hailey Grant slowly approaching, accompanied by my visibly pregnant daughter-in-law. Hailey’s words were like dropping boiling water into a pan of oil, instantly erupting into a furious sizzle. “Parents, look! Going home to cook braised pork ribs for her daughter-in-law on a weekday afternoon? Isn’t that inappropriate?” “How can someone like this be the homeroom teacher of a top-tier class?” “Today, either agree to terminate the pregnancy, or we replace the homeroom teacher. Mrs. Vance, you choose.” My daughter-in-law looked bewildered. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!” “Miss Grant, I meant I wanted to eat ribs tonight. I wanted my mother-in-law to buy some and cook them after school. I didn’t say for her to come back and cook them at noon!” My daughter-in-law was so flustered she could barely speak clearly. The loud commotion drew students from their morning study, their heads poking out of the classroom, eager to see what was happening. “Change homeroom teachers? Great! Are we getting Miss Grant?” “I always hated that old hag. She gives us so much homework every day, and punishes us with copying until our hands ache.” I couldn’t believe it. My students, whom I had painstakingly taught for three years, were calling me an “old hag” and saying they hated me. I dug my nails into my palms, my voice trembling with barely suppressed fury. “Terminating the pregnancy is out of the question. Changing homeroom teachers is even more impossible.” “If you parents have nothing else to do, please leave the school. Don’t disrupt the students’ classes.” Kayla Johnson’s mom snorted. “Mrs. Vance, you don’t want to change homeroom teachers, are you perhaps unwilling to part with the bonus for the top-tier class?” Kayla Johnson’s mom’s words hit me like a sledgehammer. Yes, there was a bonus for the top-tier class, but it was split among all the teachers involved, amounting to barely two hundred dollars per person. If I were after money, I would have long ago quit and become a teacher at an outside institution, earning several times more than I did now. I took a deep breath, trying to be pragmatic. “I’m not changing homeroom teachers because I’ve taught this class since freshman year. I know each student’s situation better and can provide more targeted assistance.” “Secondly, the final exams are coming soon. Even if there were a suitable teacher, changing teachers at such a critical juncture would definitely be detrimental to the students.” Kayla Johnson’s mom rolled her eyes, pulling Hailey Grant forward and pushing her towards me. “What do you mean ‘no’? I think Miss Grant is perfectly suitable!” “She’s single, young, and the kids like her more. Plus, she doesn’t have all these messy personal affairs.” Kayla Johnson’s mom’s words infuriated me, but also made me laugh grimly. “Miss Grant just graduated this year. Her teaching experience is completely insufficient. This class is a top-tier class at the school; the students in it are all promising candidates for Ivy League-level schools.” “How can an inexperienced novice teacher be the homeroom teacher for a top-tier class?” Kayla Johnson’s mom curled her lips, her eyes full of scorn. “Mrs. Vance, do you overestimate yourself? The students in the top-tier class are inherently gifted.” “To put it crudely, if you tied a dog to the podium, these kids would still ace their exams.” “Besides, Miss Grant graduated from a prestigious university. Her learning ability is far superior to an old hag like you.” I stood there, stunned, unable to believe such words came from Kayla Johnson’s mom’s mouth. This class wasn’t a top-tier class to begin with; it was I who enforced discipline, rectified the academic atmosphere, and gradually raised the class’s performance, bit by bit. Now, in the parents’ mouths, it had become a class where even a dog tied to the podium could teach effectively. The students watching the spectacle chimed in agreement. “Exactly! I think if we switched to Miss Grant, my Chinese scores would improve even more!” “That old hag is too rigid. All she makes us do is memorize texts and copy essays all day. What’s the point of that?” Then, the classroom erupted in a synchronized chant: “Change teachers! Change teachers!” Kayla Johnson’s mom looked at me triumphantly. “Mrs. Vance, see? The children all demand a change in homeroom teacher.” “However, given your hard work for the children for three years, we can apply to the principal. Miss Grant will be the homeroom teacher, and as for you, you can assist Miss Grant.” I raised my eyes to Kayla Johnson’s mom, my gaze sweeping over the students in the class. “The homeroom teacher cannot be changed. I absolutely will not agree.” Kayla Johnson’s mom and Kevin Chen’s mom exchanged glances. “Mrs. Vance, if you don’t want to change homeroom teachers, then you’re choosing the pregnancy termination, aren’t you?” “For the future of the 45 children in this class, we will be the villains for Mrs. Vance.” Before I could react, Kayla Johnson’s mom and Kevin Chen’s mom grabbed my daughter-in-law and headed for the stairwell. I quickly tried to rush forward to stop them, but the other parents held me back tightly. “Are you insane?! Are you really planning to forcibly drag her to terminate the pregnancy? Do you understand that’s illegal?!” Kayla Johnson’s mom completely ignored me, watching as my daughter-in-law was pulled to the stairwell. I exerted all my strength, breaking free from the parents’ restraint, and rushed towards my daughter-in-law. My daughter-in-law struggled fiercely. I tried to pry open the hands of the two parents. The four of us wrestled, and the scene became a chaotic scramble. I don’t know who pushed or perhaps stumbled. My daughter-in-law suddenly tumbled down the stairs, a crumpled heap. “Ah…!” A piercing scream echoed in the stairwell. Everyone collectively looked down. My daughter-in-law’s white dress was already stained crimson with blood. Kayla Johnson’s mom fell to the ground, her face pale. “So much blood… so much blood…”

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1 Three years after my death, my CEO husband, Julian Vance, served me with a lawsuit. His claim: the kidney I’d supposedly donated to his golden girl, Serena Bellwether, was defective. With no response from my end, he held a press conference, grandly transferring twenty percent of his company shares to Serena. Finally, his patience snapped, and he stormed back to our old hometown, determined to find me. A neighbor, startled, called out, “Lily? She hasn’t been back since her grandpa passed.” He hammered on the door of my childhood home. My younger sister, Maya, opened it. “Julian Vance? Don’t you know my sister’s been dead for two years?” The man, hands plunged into his pockets, sneered. “Lily Evans playing the disappearing act again? Trying to make me regret it? She dared to ram Serena’s car two years ago, I cut off her cards, and she still wants to throw a tantrum? If Serena’s kidney hadn’t acted up, I wouldn’t even think about forgiving her!” Maya’s brow furrowed. “She’s truly dead! And now you talk about forgiveness? What a joke!” Julian, however, spotted Buster, our old dog, wagging his tail inside. “Buster’s here. Where else could she be? Tell her I’m throwing her a bone. If she’s too stubborn, she can forget ever finding me again!” Buster suddenly limped forward, a frantic, yelping bark tearing from his throat, followed by a full-body spasm. Maya scrambled for the oxygen tank. My spirit reached out instinctively, only to pass straight through him—I was long gone from this world. Julian frowned, a ripple of disgust crossing his face. “Stupid dog! Want another kick?” Two years ago, he’d struck me for Serena’s sake. Buster, our loyal protector, had jumped to my defense and been kicked, leaving his right leg with a permanent nervous tremor. Maya’s voice cracked, raw with grief. “She’s dead! And if she were alive, she’d never see you! I’d make sure she stayed as far away from you as possible!” Julian’s sneer twisted into something uglier. “She hooked up with some wild man behind my back, didn’t she? Just as Serena said, she’s a loose woman!” My spirit felt as if it were being torn apart—I had been driven to my death by him and Serena, and even in death, I was subjected to this vile insult. “Don’t you dare spew such lies! Get out of our house!” Julian’s voice turned vicious. “Everything your family has, I gave you! Your brother’s wedding funds? I paid for them!” He wasn’t entirely wrong. He had extended a hand when my mother was gravely ill and my sister-in-law was pressured into an abortion. But he didn’t know the full truth: I’d been born with only one kidney. The doctor who performed my pre-surgical checks had been bribed by Serena. During the operation, I’d received only half the anesthetic dose. I was awake, enduring excruciating pain as my kidney was extracted and an artificial one implanted. Post-operative complications and infection claimed my life within two weeks. And all that time, he had been by Serena’s side. Maya’s voice broke. “Go to the hospital! Check the death certificate!” Julian scoffed. “The hospital said she was discharged, healthy and fine!” He hadn’t even bothered with a simple verification, choosing only to believe the lies. Just then, my older brother, Leo, arrived home from his construction job, his eyes blazing red. “Julian Vance! You have the audacity to show your face here! The money I borrowed from you? It’s all been paid back!” 2 Julian took a cigarette from his assistant, lighting it, the smoke blurring his features. Leo swatted the cigarette from his hand, his grimy fist clenching, knuckles cracking. “You have no idea how my sister died, do you? Where were you when she got infected after donating her kidney, when they were fighting to save her life? You were in Serena Bellwether’s hospital room, probably peeling her an apple!” “Nonsense!” Julian frowned. “Serena’s recovery was excellent after the surgery. It’s only recently she started showing rejection symptoms. Lily Evans hid her medical history when she donated her kidney, and now she wants to renege on her word?” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through a chat history. “Look, this is her pre-op conversation with the doctor. It clearly states she had two perfectly healthy kidneys!” Maya snatched the phone, slamming it to the ground. “That’s a forgery by Serena! She swapped the real medical report! Go check the anesthesia records from the surgery, the dosage wasn’t even enough!” Julian stared at the shattered screen, a flicker of memory crossing his face—after my surgery, he’d visited my hospital room and seen my face, ashen as paper, beads of cold sweat on my forehead. At the time, he’d dismissed it as me being dramatic. Now… now, he thought back. “Impossible,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Serena isn’t that kind of person…” Before the words fully left his lips, Buster suddenly broke free from Maya’s embrace, limping furiously towards Julian’s briefcase, tearing at it, biting like a mad dog. Maya cried out, pulling Buster away, but a yellowed slip of paper fluttered from a torn seam in the briefcase. It was a note I’d secretly slipped to a nurse before my surgery, scrawled in my own blood: “The doctor was bribed. Help me…” Julian’s pupils contracted sharply. At that very moment, his phone rang, the voice on the other end urgent, breathless: “Mr. Vance, Miss Bellwether… Miss Bellwether just passed away due to acute renal failure! The kidney inside her… it doesn’t seem to be the one donated by Ms. Evans!” The air in the room solidified, heavy and cold. I floated in mid-air, watching Julian stumble backward, knocking over the small charcoal brazier by the door. Flames licked at his pant leg, but he seemed oblivious, his eyes fixed on the blood-stained note on the floor. A low, guttural roar, like that of a cornered beast, rumbled in his throat. It became clear: Serena had found a matching kidney donor long before I “donated” mine. But to bind Julian to her forever, she’d orchestrated this elaborate scheme, making me the supposed donor, then secretly swapping my kidney for someone else’s. And I, with my single, vulnerable kidney, had rapidly succumbed after the forced surgery, becoming a tragic pawn in her twisted game. Now, the truth was laid bare in such a brutal, devastating way. But what could this belated realization ever salvage? Buster continued to bark hoarsely, flecks of blood staining his foam. My spirit grew increasingly transparent, my last gaze lingering on the old oak tree outside our home—the place where Julian and I had buried tokens of our love. Now, only desolation remained. “Leo Evans, your family bled me dry through Lily. Can you ever repay that?” A flicker of raw pain crossed Leo’s eyes. He lowered his head, muttering, “Yes, I burdened her. But you… you have no right to accuse me!” He took two steps, grabbing Julian by the collar. “When Lily married you, I was the first to object. She knelt outside our door for a day and a night, begging me and Dad to agree…” “And what was the result?! You broke her heart, and then you took her life! You should have lived happily ever after with your childhood sweetheart, not come here to disturb her resting spirit!” “Julian Vance! You’re a monstrous scumbag, worse than an animal!” Julian’s face darkened. He pressed the smoldering cigarette butt onto Leo’s clenched fist. The scent of burning flesh immediately filled the air. “Brother!” “It was just one kidney! I gave her ten million dollars! What kind of scumbag is that generous?” “She agreed to it herself, didn’t she? And now you blame me?” Leo roared, “Ten million?! The hundred thousand for the wedding and the five hundred thousand for Mom’s medical bills—I paid you back every cent! You’re slandering us!” “You took the money, but you won’t admit it? Is your whole family this disgusting?” Julian’s brows furrowed in annoyance. He immediately ordered his men to seize my family. “Release those vicious hounds! Teach them a lesson!” Panic seized me. I instinctively dropped to my knees, pleading, but I could only watch helplessly as dark-suited men stormed in, surrounding my family. Drooling, snarling dogs lunged. Leo shielded Maya, but Buster was savagely ripped apart, his body a bloody mess. “No! Stop! Stop it, all of you!” I screamed, my voice raw and desperate, but no one could hear me. Blood-stained tears streamed down my face. Only Buster, in his dying moments, looked at me with mournful eyes. My Buster, you saw me the moment Julian walked in! But I could only watch, helpless, as his breath faded. “This is just a small lesson,” Julian snarled. “In three days, Lily Evans better show up herself, or this dead dog will be your fate.” The door slammed shut, shaking the house. Years ago, because I had spoken out of turn to Serena, Julian had deliberately crippled my family’s factory, causing my father to fall critically ill. Now, he was perfectly capable of doing it again. For Serena, he would stop at nothing. For two years, because of that kidney, my spirit had been bound to Julian, a torment worse than any hell. Downstairs, Serena called him. The moment her name appeared on his screen, the rage on Julian’s face instantly melted away. “Hello, Serena. What is it?” My spirit, drawn by an inexplicable pull, was instantly tugged to Julian’s side. I watched him, his face alight with tenderness, as he spoke on the phone. “Oh, Julian, is Lily still hiding from us?” “It’s all my body’s fault, I’m so weak, I couldn’t even fight off the rejection, and I ruined the kidney Lily donated to me. She must be so reluctant to give me another one…” From the other end of the line, Serena’s feigned, overly sweet voice made me gag. “Silly girl, don’t say that. I’ll arrange for the best bio-artificial kidney for her. She won’t have a choice!” “The doctors said your body can only use a living organ. Lily Evans works out, she’s strong as an ox. She’s living perfectly fine with an artificial kidney!” Julian comforted Serena for half an hour before reluctantly hanging up. Just then, an assistant-like man knocked hurriedly and entered. “Mr. Vance, someone anonymously sent a death certificate…” Julian raised an eyebrow. “Whose?” “It’s… Ms. Evans’.” 3 Julian took it, casually at first. My name, “Lily Evans,” was clearly printed on it. He scoffed. “Lily Evans, you really are something. You even forged a death certificate to hide from me. Do you think that’s going to work?” The assistant hesitated. “Mr. Vance, the death certificate isn’t a fake. I verified it, and the police station confirmed…” “Enough!” Julian interrupted impatiently. “This is clearly just one of Lily Evans’s little tricks, trying to make me feel remorse. She’s dreaming!” “Go find her. No matter what corner she’s hiding in, dig up the earth if you have to, just bring her to me!” The assistant sighed, nodding quickly. “Yes, Mr. Vance!” A week passed. The assistant returned, his expression peculiar as he delivered his report. “Mr. Vance, the private investigators confirmed Ms. Evans has indeed passed away. Her body was cremated at the City Memorial Mortuary, and her ashes were personally signed for by Leo Evans. There’s no mistake.” Julian frowned. “Bullshit! Lily Evans values her life too much, how could she just die? She even went to a remote spiritual sanctuary high in the Rockies, seeking alternative remedies just to stay alive!” I gave a bitter smile. He didn’t know. I went to the Rockies to find a cure for him. That year, Julian had contracted malaria during a business trip to Africa. No matter what medication he took, his fever wouldn’t break. I heard there was an ancient remedy in the mountains that could cure malaria. I trekked through harsh terrain, enduring high altitudes that left me near collapse from oxygen deprivation. Finally, at an ancient monastery high in the Rockies, I found the formula. I don’t know if the remedy truly worked, or if my sincerity moved the heavens, but after Julian took the medicine, his fever actually broke. How ironic that he believed I had sought that cure for myself. The assistant looked troubled. “But Mr. Vance, I hired two different private detective agencies, and their findings… are identical. Ms. Evans might really be…” Julian slammed his hand on the table, his voice rising in anger. “Nonsense! I’ve known her my entire life! She’s not the kind of person who gives up until she gets what she wants. Why would she ever give up and die? She’s determined to cling to me forever.” “Maybe she knew about her kidney problem all along, and she’s just faking her death to avoid me. She’s probably living it up somewhere right now!” The assistant was stunned into silence. “But Mr. Vance, that’s too dramatic!” Julian laughed mockingly. “She was the star of her university drama club. Faking her death? That’s her specialty!” The assistant was left completely speechless. “So, Mr. Vance, should I continue the investigation?” Julian lit a cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Yes, keep digging. Find out which mortuary cremated her, and which cemetery her ashes were buried in. I want to see if Lily Evans truly arranged everything flawlessly!” I stood behind him, watching the man I’d loved for seven years, my heart chilling to its core. My spirit felt even more translucent. Another week passed. The assistant returned, his face unusually grim. He placed a file on Julian’s desk. “I found that Ms. Evans was cremated at the City Memorial Mortuary. The cremation date was two years ago.” “And her ashes were interred at Greenhaven Cemetery, in the suburbs, section C, row six, plot eight.” “The cemetery staff confirmed that her brother and sister visit every year to pay their respects.” Julian’s expression turned cold, his thin lips parting. “Well, well. Quite thorough arrangements, aren’t they?” “It seems, Lily Evans, you’re truly determined to hide from me!” He abruptly stood, striding purposefully towards the door. “Let’s go! To Greenhaven Cemetery!” The assistant hurried to follow him. An hour later, the car pulled up to the gates of Greenhaven Cemetery, on the outskirts of the city. Julian stepped out into the light drizzle. The assistant quickly opened a black umbrella for him. At section C, row six, plot eight. The gravestone was still new, the inscription clear and stark: [Lily Evans, Beloved Daughter of the Evans Family] On the small black-and-white photo, my younger self smiled faintly, from a time when my eyes were bright with youthful hope.

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After Julian gave me the silent treatment for the ninety-ninth time, I finally saw him reach out. He sent a message, a peace offering, inviting me to witness a surprise tonight. My mind immediately conjured the joy that had lately been etched on his face, and the diamond ring I’d glimpsed beneath his pillow. Instinctively, I thought he was finally going to propose. I dressed meticulously and went to the appointed place. But when I pushed open the door, I saw his childhood sweetheart, Chloe, clinking glasses with him, their arms entwined in a classic toast. A giant screen behind them blazed with the words: “Welcome Home, My Princess Chloe.” Julian had told me that Chloe, in a drunken stupor, had given herself to him, and the emotional toll had left her with a delicate heart. And I, a “used woman,” dared to dream of surprises. Since he was so obsessed with “firsts,” then let him experience losing everything for the very first time. 1 Amidst the cheering crowd, Julian and Chloe drank from intertwined glasses, his face alight with a sweetness I’d never seen directed at me. Dressed like a princess myself, I instantly felt like an awkward clown, rooted to the spot, unable to advance or retreat. Chloe spotted me, stamping her foot with a childish pout. “Aurora, are you deliberately trying to ruin my welcome-home party?” So Julian’s big surprise was her return. “What are you doing here? You’re such a buzzkill.” “Chloe, ignore her. I probably sent the group message to everyone. Look, do you like this gift?” Julian knelt on one knee, pulling a small box from his jacket with an air of profound reverence. It was the ring I’d seen. The next second, he slipped it onto Chloe’s left ring finger. Everything before my eyes was an exact replica of the proposal scene I’d dreamed of. I had waited five years, hinting to Julian countless times. But on the very last day of our fifth anniversary, I watched, heartbroken, as Julian placed the ring on another woman’s hand. Julian’s friends came over, playfully teasing him. He just scowled. “Having a girlfriend who’s always spying on my schedule, I’ve had the worst luck imaginable.” Under the mocking stares of the crowd, I made a clumsy exit. Chloe triumphantly smashed her empty glass at my feet, the shards instantly embedding themselves in my calf. It was our fifth anniversary, after all. I thought Julian would surely chase after me, to explain, to apologize. But he didn’t. He only sent me a text message. “Aurora, don’t make a scene here. You’re embarrassing me.” “Chloe is back, and I just want her to be happy. She’s not like you; she gave her first time to me. I can’t be responsible for her, but I should definitely compensate her more.” Before Julian, I’d had a previous relationship, something he had constantly held against me. Even though I’d poured my everything into him, caring for him meticulously, none of it measured up to that single, fleeting moment Chloe had given him. Even if that “first time” was a drunken accident. But Chloe’s heart had been “unwell” ever since that incident, so Julian’s “compensation” to her was endless. Above that message in my phone, a text from my adoptive mother brought a bittersweet ache. “Seeing my darling daughter settled brings peace to my heart. Mom has fulfilled her mission. Don’t worry, darling, Mom will hold on with her last breath to attend your wedding.” I had grown up in an orphanage, only experiencing the warmth of family after my adoptive mother took me in. But she was gravely ill, with little time left. My future, my finding a partner, was her only remaining concern in this world. So, when I thought Julian was going to propose, I had eagerly shared the good news with her, hoping to ease her mind. But now… I looked at the cuts on my calf, the pain too deep for words. I had intended to ask Julian if he’d forgotten that today marked our five-year anniversary. But now, it was pointless. That ring I’d waited five years for? I didn’t want it anymore. And him? I didn’t want him either. 2 By the time Julian returned home, the living room clock had chimed midnight. Our five-year anniversary was over. He woke me, handing me a drink. “Alright, stop pretending to sleep. I know you’re wide awake.” “This is from Chloe. See how generous she is? When will you be as considerate as her?” I forced my eyes open, wincing at the harsh light, and glanced at the drink. It was a Mango Sago dessert. But he seemed to have forgotten again: I’m allergic to mangoes. This very cold war had started because one of his friends at dinner had insisted I eat mango, and Julian, instead of stopping them, had told me not to be rude. I was angry he didn’t care about me; he was angry I was being difficult. I took a deep breath, suppressing the bitter taste of injustice. “My mom is getting worse. She wants to see you one last time. She asked if you’re free tomorrow afternoon.” I hadn’t dared tell my adoptive mother the truth; I feared she couldn’t bear it. Likewise, I still wanted to give Julian one last chance, for the sake of our five years together and for my adoptive mother. Julian instinctively blurted out, “I’m busy. I have to be with…” Before he finished, he suddenly seemed to remember something, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Got it. I’ll make time tomorrow.” “And, Aurora, you don’t need to be so paranoid. I don’t even care that you’re not a virgin, so there’s no need for you to be hostile towards Chloe.” “You know, I accidentally touched her when I was drunk back then.” I didn’t want to speak. I just raised my hand and turned off the bedroom light. The bedroom ceiling was a custom-made star-field ceiling Julian had installed. Every time Julian gave me the silent treatment after an argument, I’d add a diamond to the star field. Five years, and I’d added too many. The ceiling was so bright now, it made it hard to sleep. As I was drifting off, Julian received a call and rushed out. I didn’t question it. I just sent him a text the next morning, reminding him not to forget about the hospital visit. My adoptive mother was in her final rally, her frail hand trembling as she pulled out the shares she’d left for me. “These funds should rightfully be yours, dear, but Julian’s career is on the rise. This is all Mom can do to help him. As long as he treats you well in the future…” I found it hard to believe. The shares my adoptive mother had guarded her entire life, she now wanted to transfer entirely to Julian, simply so he would treat me well. My adoptive mother held my hand, reluctant to let go, giving me countless instructions. She said she wanted to personally arrange some things with Julian. But she waited until nightfall, until her eyes finally closed for good, and Julian never came. I handled her funeral arrangements alone. Finally, Julian called. “Something urgent came up at the company. I’ll personally cook for you tomorrow as an apology.” Before I could speak, I heard a sweet, syrupy voice in the background. “Julian, I’m thirsty! I want that one.” The call was abruptly disconnected. I pondered for a moment, then proactively messaged my adoptive mother’s business partner. “I want to take over Mom’s projects.” 3 My adoptive mother had always wanted me to have my own career after she was gone, so she had arranged a path for me to go abroad. Before, I hesitated because I couldn’t let go of her and Julian. Now… I had no ties left. When Julian came home, I was packing my luggage. He didn’t notice anything amiss. He casually handed me a handmade ceramic piece. “A gift for you.” I remembered the social media post Chloe had made, showing her smiling radiantly at some exquisite handmade ceramics. The caption read, “He made it himself. So much better than my clumsy attempts.” So I recognized it immediately: what Julian gave me was just one of Chloe’s botched “clumsy attempts.” “You don’t like it?” Julian scoffed. “Chloe is innocent and not a gold-digger. Women your age, having experienced the world, naturally care more about money.” Julian emphasized the phrase “experienced the world,” a thinly veiled jab at my past relationship, implying I hadn’t remained “pure” for him. “You can’t find fault with this gift, can you?” Julian said, taking out a jewelry box. It was from my favorite brand. Not long ago, I’d casually complained to Julian that I really liked a necklace from their collection, but it was a limited edition, hard to find anywhere in the country. My heart lurched. To say I wasn’t expectant would be a lie. I cautiously opened the jewelry box, before I could even see what was inside. “Oh, does Sister Aurora like these girlish things too?” It was Chloe. She had come back with Julian. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I turned to her. “Didn’t you say your heart was delicate after that incident? What? Now that you’re a mistress, your heart feels fine?” My words had barely left my lips when Julian slapped me hard across the face. Julian’s hateful glare sent shivers down my spine. Combined with the searing pain in my head, the world spun, and I nearly blacked out. 4 When I came to, Julian seemed to regret it. He wanted to approach me, but after a moment’s hesitation, he still turned to comfort Chloe. “I’m fine, Julian. Thank you for the necklace, it’s beautiful.” “Why didn’t you go home?” Chloe’s clear laughter echoed through the living room. “Hmph, because she deliberately ruined my welcome-home party.” After Julian had comforted Chloe, he took her home. When he returned, I was curled up on the sofa, sweating and crying. The familiar pain brought back a flood of memories. My face was ashen, my forehead beaded with sweat, and my entire body trembled. “Aurora? Are you okay? I… I didn’t mean to just now. Chloe is young, don’t hold it against her.” Seeing my lack of response, Julian, fearing something serious, drove me to the hospital. Those icy memories and the feeling of profound loss clung to me, refusing to dissipate. I trembled in the passenger seat, feeling as if I might suffocate at any moment. Julian’s eyes finally showed a flicker of concern, his voice softening. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I was impulsive. Just hold on a little longer. We’ll be at the hospital soon.” Julian’s low voice, tinged with tenderness, slowly pulled me back from the brink of overwhelming fear. Just as I was about to calm down, Julian suddenly slammed on the brakes. 5 My forehead hit the ornament on the dashboard, the one designated “Princess Chloe’s Special Seat.” Julian looked at the message on his phone, his brows furrowed tightly, his gaze at me filled with internal conflict. “You can take a taxi to the hospital yourself. Chloe’s heart is bothering her again.” Seeing me sitting unresponsive in the passenger seat, Julian pushed me out of the car without another word. “You’re a grown woman; you’ll be fine. I’ll come to the hospital to see you. If anything happens to Chloe, I’d be the one to blame.” The car sped away, leaving me standing on the deserted street, a little lost. The familiar darkness and past terrors made me shiver, I didn’t dare wait for a taxi there. Dragging my injured calf, I ran wildly until I saw people, then finally relaxed. In that moment, the tightly stretched string inside me snapped. I stood on the busy street, sobbing uncontrollably. I was angry that Julian had abandoned me halfway, angry that he indulged Chloe’s insults, angry that he didn’t buy the spacious apartment I wanted, but instead, to fulfill Chloe’s wish, changed our wedding home to a suburban villa. I was angry that between me and Chloe, he chose Chloe again and again… Five years. I had accumulated far too much resentment. After I cried, I took a taxi to the hospital for a full check-up. My head was fine, but I was severely traumatized. The doctor gave me medication to relieve stress. I took a photo of the prescription and sent it to my adoptive mother’s business partner, postponing my trip abroad. I also promised him that I would handle everything before my injuries healed, and it wouldn’t delay my work. His reply came quickly: “Don’t burden yourself too much. You are excellent. Rest well and take care of yourself.” This was the only concern and affirmation I had received in a long time. I sent Julian a breakup text. I took a taxi back to pack my luggage, preparing to leave this place that used to be our home. To my surprise, Julian was home, and he had cooked a table full of dishes. He smiled at me, his gaze lingering on the medicine in my hand for a moment before quickly moving away. “Aurora, I promised I’d cook for you to apologize. Don’t be mad anymore. Let’s go pick up Mom and have dinner.” I walked straight to the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and looked at him, my eyes red. “But my mom… she’s gone.” Julian froze.

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1 My younger sister, Daisy, came home with her boyfriend every day, yet she never used any form of contraception. When I finally asked why, she calmly explained she was using the “side door.” I warned her that area was delicate, that repeated use could lead to infections and other problems. I told her that in this day and age, people were more open-minded, and a man who truly loved her wouldn’t care if she was a “pure” maiden or not. Daisy took my advice to heart. Later, after she broke up with her boyfriend, our mother set her up with a wealthy heir. On their wedding night, because Daisy didn’t bleed, the groom erupted in a furious rage. The incident spread like wildfire, becoming the talk of the town the very next day. Daisy was publicly humiliated, and she blamed it all on me. Her face contorted into a hideous mask of fury as she forced my head into a pot of scalding boiling water. “It’s all your fault!” she shrieked, her voice thick with venom. “If I had remained a virgin, I could have been a socialite, and no one would be laughing at me!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Daisy told me she never used contraception. … “Sis, don’t worry. I won’t get pregnant. Every time I’m with Leo, I use the side door.” My sister said, wiggling her hips suggestively. Looking at her face, I felt a shudder of revulsion. The suffocating sensation of boiling water filling my airways, that horrifying memory from my past life, washed over me. It took immense effort to compose myself. “Wow,” I managed, my voice strained. “You’re so clever.” Daisy continued, eager to share her wisdom. “Sis, I’m telling you, that spot can give a guy just as much pleasure. Don’t listen to Mom. It’s the twenty-first century. Living in the moment is what matters.” “It’s because of your old-fashioned thinking that you can’t keep a boyfriend.” I smiled faintly. Daisy’s smugness stemmed from the fact that her current boyfriend, Leo, was my ex. We’d dated for two years, but he’d broken up with me because I refused to have premarital sex. Less than three days after our breakup, Leo and my sister went public with their relationship. It was only when I went to Leo’s apartment to collect my belongings that I discovered they’d been secretly involved for a while. Daisy visited Leo’s rental unit every day, and their raucous antics echoed from the third floor all the way up to the fifth. All the neighbors knew. When I first learned this, my initial reaction wasn’t anger, but a chilling realization: if Mom found out, Daisy would be completely ruined. Our father passed away early, leaving Mom to raise Daisy and me alone. Mom was a professional matchmaker, with an impressive network of eligible bachelors from high society. Having dealt with these affluent families for so long, Mom understood their strict requirements for a potential spouse. A key one being: “cleanliness.” So, from a young age, Mom hammered one rule into Daisy and me: dating was fine, but premarital sex was absolutely forbidden. Mom would constantly repeat, her voice earnest: “Marriage is your second chance at life. These men might say they don’t care, but deep down, they all want a pure maiden. You two must guard your boundaries, or don’t blame me for disowning you.” On the way home from Leo’s place, I kept thinking about helping Daisy confess to Mom. To my surprise, when I told Daisy this, she calmly informed me she was still a “pure maiden,” because she hadn’t used the conventional route. I stared for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. Then, my concern shifted to her health. As someone with basic medical knowledge, I knew how delicate the “side door” was. It was merely an excretory opening, with muscles around the sphincter that controlled its tightness. It wasn’t meant to be open for long, let alone violently forced open repeatedly. Such abuse would surely damage the muscles and lead to a host of complications. I immediately explained all this to Daisy, telling her, “A man who truly loves you wouldn’t make you suffer like this, nor would he care about that ‘layer.’ If you enjoy that kind of intimacy, use the normal way to experience pleasure. And if someone truly cares about it, we can always get a repair surgery.” Daisy’s eyes lit up at the mention of surgery, and she subsequently changed her habit of using the “side door.” I never imagined that after she broke up with Leo, Mom would set her up with a rich heir. Despite the repair surgery, she still didn’t bleed on her wedding night. After the divorce, she blamed me for everything. Recalling this, I still offered a kind warning. “But constantly using the side door will cause injuries, and it’s prone to infection.” Daisy blinked, a mischievous smile on her face. “As long as you’re careful, it won’t. And besides, Sis, I think I was born with a natural charm. That area can also produce… fluids.” That last part sounded exactly like something Leo would have told her to string her along. Normally, that area doesn’t secrete anything. If it did, it meant only one thing: she was infected. This realization brought a surge of grim satisfaction. I feigned envy. “Is that why Leo likes you so much?” At the same time, I used a burner account to send a bunch of “toys” to Leo’s account. 【Handsome, need some little tools? Free shipping to your door!】 Daisy had always loved stealing my things. When she heard a hint of longing in my voice, she immediately became defensive. “Of course! But you probably don’t have this kind of… constitution, Sis. Now that Leo has had a taste of me, he won’t be interested in you. You should give up on him.” I lowered my head, feigning disappointment. Meanwhile, Leo’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. I quickly recommended several “aggressive” toys. Leo picked a few, sent the money, and I promptly placed an order from a local adult store. As I finished replying, Daisy’s phone vibrated. She picked it up, glanced at it, and her face flushed crimson. A moment later, she stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. “Sis, I have to go out. Remember to keep this from Mom.” Daisy didn’t return that night. When she came back the next day, she could barely walk straight. For the next few days, Leo ordered new “toys” from me daily. The items grew increasingly… extreme, and Daisy’s gait became more and more peculiar. I knew if this continued, Daisy’s body wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer. And the day came sooner than I expected. One Saturday, Daisy clutched my arm, her voice a whispered plea. “Sis, I think… I think it’s torn.” I forced myself to remain calm. “Where?” “Just… there.” She pulled down her pants. “Can you take a look for me? A lot of blood just came out, and it hurts so much.” I grimaced, suppressing a wave of nausea, and saw that the area was indeed not normal. “Sis,” she asked, her voice trembling, “do you think I should go to the hospital? Every time I sneeze these days, I… leak.” That nearly made me vomit. “The hospital?” I frowned. “Do you want Mom to find out you’ve been using the side door?” Mom was very strict about our private lives, and with Daisy staying out lately, she was already suspicious. Daisy’s face fell. “Then what do I do?” I rubbed my hands together. “It doesn’t look too serious. Let’s just go to a small clinic and get some medicine.” Daisy was too embarrassed to go to a proper clinic. In the end, she bought some random ointments online and applied them to the area. Once the medication took effect, Daisy resumed her nightly escapades. But it was clear that the muscles in her “side door” had loosened. She always carried a faint, unsettling odor. Counting the days, I knew it was time. Mom had finally found a suitable rich heir, and the moment she walked in, she was buzzing with excitement, urging Daisy to meet him. “Mr. Chen is truly one in a million, Lily! Worth hundreds of millions, educated abroad, and most importantly, his private life is impeccably clean!” Mom clapped Daisy on the thigh, beaming. “The best part is, he has almost no requirements for his partner, except for one: she must be pure. Daisy, your good fortune has arrived!” Mom was so incredibly excited, but Daisy remained indifferent. “Mom,” she said, flatly, “I don’t want to.” Mom and I both froze. In my past life, Daisy had agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Why was she refusing so quickly now? Mom quickly asked, “Why? Daisy, getting married is like a second chance at life. Don’t you always complain that I haven’t given you good opportunities? This time, I’ve found you an excellent family.” Daisy threw up her hands. “I have a boyfriend.” “Break up with him then,” Mom frowned. “Daisy, you didn’t go and sleep with that boy, did you? You didn’t listen to your mother?” Daisy’s face paled. “Of course not, Mom. I just… don’t want to get married right now. Why don’t you let my sister go on the blind date?” Hearing this, Mom shot me a disgusted glance. “Do you think she’s suitable?” Mom’s hurtful words pierced me like needles. My heart ached. Without a husband, Mom feared gossip, so she was incredibly strict with both me and Daisy. But her strictness was applied very differently. She treated me like a prisoner, while Daisy was her precious child. If I didn’t do my homework, she’d rip up all my textbooks and throw them in the trash, leaving me to face the ridicule of teachers and classmates the next day. If Daisy didn’t do hers, Mom would just scold her softly. If I broke a bowl, she’d make me kneel all night in the freezing cold. If Daisy broke one, she’d just tap her palms twice. I always suspected I wasn’t her biological daughter, even getting a DNA test done when I was an adult. But the results confirmed it: I was indeed her daughter. In my past life, after Daisy pushed me into the scalding water, I was still clinging to life. Mom rushed in, but didn’t even spare me a glance. Instead, she worried if Daisy’s hands were scalded. With my last ounce of strength, I asked her why she played favorites. She gave me a look of pure disgust. “How am I playing favorites? You’re just petty, that’s why you think I’m biased. Daisy never says I’m biased.” But I knew the real reason: Daisy was prettier than me. Mom always said that in this era, beauty was a resource. She firmly believed Daisy could marry into wealth and uplift our family, so she gambled everything on Daisy’s marriage prospects. Despite Mom’s immense reluctance, she didn’t force Daisy to go on the blind date. Unwilling to let such a good opportunity slip through our fingers, she arranged for me to meet Mr. Michael Chen instead. All the way there, she lectured me. “Don’t you dare mention any of your past relationships to Mr. Chen. You’re already not good-looking enough, so if you talk about your past flings, he’ll definitely not be interested.” Sometimes, I wondered if Mom was blind. Daisy stayed out all night, and Mom still believed she was a good girl. I came home on time every day, checked in with her before leaving, yet she still thought I was wild and loose. Thankfully, Michael Chen didn’t seem to care about my appearance. In my previous life, because of his involvement with Daisy, I’d had a poor impression of him. But this time, after talking, I realized he was genuinely a good person. Polite, well-read, and insightful. Just as Mom had said, his only requirement for a partner was personal integrity. This standard, however, stemmed from his own aristocratic background. He was so well-off, and so many women threw themselves at him, yet he remained a virgin. His high standards for himself made his requirement for a partner seem perfectly reasonable. We hit it off. We went on several dates, and our connection grew genuinely. After our last date, a thought even crossed my mind: perhaps my rebirth wasn’t for revenge, but to correct the past, to let me marry Michael Chen. For a moment, marrying Michael Chen seemed like a wonderful idea. But I hadn’t anticipated that after Michael agreed to our engagement, Daisy would break up with Leo. That night, after returning home, she saw Michael. Later that evening, she called Mom into her room. The next morning, Mom told me, “You need to break up with Michael Chen. Your sister wants to be with him.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I froze for a few seconds. “Isn’t Daisy sick in the head, always stealing other people’s boyfriends? She wanted that trash Leo, and she took him. But now Michael and I are about to get engaged, why does she want to steal him too? Is she addicted to being a mistress?” The words had barely left my mouth when Mom’s hand connected with my cheek, a stinging slap. “Daisy is your sister! How can you say such horrible things? Michael Chen was originally for Daisy! You were the mistress, stealing what was hers!” The slap burned, but it also extinguished the last flicker of love I had for my mother. My patience snapped. “Even so, Michael Chen is my boyfriend now! If she’s so great, let her make him fall for her!” After yelling that, I couldn’t bear to stay in the house. I grabbed my bag and ran out. I knew that if Daisy wanted Michael, Mom would make it happen. But I had faith in Michael. He wasn’t like Leo. I spent the whole day outside, the events of today and my past life replaying like a broken record in my mind. Both then and now, I felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. I thought, after I got engaged to Michael, I would move out. But I hadn’t expected that just a few hours later, before I even made it home, Michael Chen would call. “Vivian,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, “let’s break up.” My voice trembled with pain. “Why? Is it because of my sister?” A long silence stretched between us. Then Michael spoke, his honesty brutal. “Vivian, you’re a smart woman. You know, people like me, from high society, need a beautiful woman to uphold our reputation. You and your sister have identical family backgrounds. I naturally have to choose the superior one.” “I’m sorry. I’ll offer you some compensation. Just please, don’t try to cling to me. In the future, when we meet, let’s be friends.” Friends? What a load of crap. I hung up, then smashed my phone to pieces. I took a few shaky breaths, but the tears wouldn’t be held back. They poured down my face, a hot, cleansing torrent. I took out my now-smashed phone, preparing to delete all the photos I’d taken with Michael Chen. As I scrolled through a few, my eyes widened. Minutes later, all my anger and resentment melted away, replaced by a strange sense of relief, as I stared at the photo album.

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The annual Royal Selection, held in King’s Landing, sought a suitable bride for Prince Edmund, the King’s heir. In my last life, it was I who claimed victory. Prince Edmund wed me as his Princess Consort. Lady Seraphina, the woman he loved, fell gravely ill, fading away in sorrow. After he ascended the throne, he never crowned me Queen. Instead, a solemn effigy of Seraphina graced the throne. He made me kneel before it for three days and three nights. “Had you not deliberately damaged Seraphina’s lute strings, she would have triumphed. It was your meddling that kept us apart.” “This crown, this throne, was meant for her.” He condemned my father, the Duke of Ravenshield, seizing our lands and condemning him to the gallows, all to quell his Kingly rage. My mother, consumed by grief, beat her head against his coffin until her spirit departed. The House of Blackwood was undone. But in this life, during the Royal Selection, I deliberately injured my wrist, withdrawing from the contest. If Prince Edmund desired a life bound solely to Lady Seraphina, I would grant them their wish. 1 “The victor of the Royal Selection is: Lady Seraphina, daughter of the Lord Chamberlain!” The Grand Adjudicator’s voice boomed across the Great Hall. A murmur rippled through the gathered nobility. “Can you believe it? She won!” “I heard Lady Eleanor Blackwood twisted her wrist. Lady Seraphina was truly blessed by fortune.” “Didn’t the King and Queen favor Lady Eleanor as Prince Edmund’s Princess Consort?” “But it was declared that the victor would be the Princess Consort. Prince Edmund himself set the terms.” Prince Edmund, a radiant smile gracing his features, eagerly grasped Lady Seraphina’s hand and stepped forward. “Father, Mother, this is the consort your son has chosen.” His eyes held an undiluted tenderness, while Seraphina’s cheeks flushed a vibrant crimson, as if about to bleed. Yet, her hand remained clasped tightly in his, never faltering. All eyes turned to me, my wrist still swathed in bandages. A mixture of pity and veiled amusement danced in their gazes, anticipating a spectacle. Even the Queen Consort eyed me, her lips parting as if to speak, then closing. It was widely known that she had intended for me to be the Prince Consort, having even discreetly approached my father, the Duke of Ravenshield, to prevent him from betrothing me elsewhere. Now, a sudden turn of events. The Queen hesitated, then addressed Prince Edmund: “Do you harbor affection for any other lady? Your father is in good spirits today; perhaps, if you speak her name, he might consent to a dual union.” Her gaze flickered to me, a subtle hint that if he spoke my name, the King might command him to take two consorts. But the Queen was mistaken. For I, Lady Eleanor, harbored no desire to wed Prince Edmund again. In my last life, Prince Edmund accused me of breaking Seraphina’s lute strings, ruining her chance at triumph. Yet, such a petty act was beneath me. Had he possessed even a sliver of clarity, had he truly considered my character, he would have known I was incapable of such malice. But his heart had already been seized by the sight of a tearful Seraphina. She had wrenched her hand from his, weeping, “I know Lady Eleanor despises me, but I only wanted a fair chance to win your affection. Why would she deny me even that? Is it simply because her father is the powerful Duke of Ravenshield?” Her words, a poisoned seed, laid the groundwork for my father’s downfall after Edmund’s coronation. Later, I discovered the truth: the ancient melody I had performed during that fateful competition, a lost ballad, had mesmerized even the Maestros of the Royal Conservatory. My performance had caused the Royal Gardens to burst into unnatural bloom, a sign of true artistic mastery. Seraphina, seeing her defeat imminent, had deliberately snapped her own lute strings, feigning a tragic accident to ensure her loss. 2 This life, I would offer her no such opportunity. I chose to feign an accidental injury to my wrist at the Vernal Ball the night before, rendering me unable to compete. Anything to avoid falling into her snare again. If they wished to be bound to one another, I would grant them their singular devotion. I would ensure I remained far, far away. Upon hearing the Queen’s question, Prince Edmund declared with a booming voice, “Mother, Seraphina is the only woman I have ever loved. Now that she has claimed victory, I humbly ask that you seal her as my true Princess Consort.” “My heart’s desire is to be bound to Seraphina alone, for all time.” The Queen sighed, a weary breath escaping her lips. “I have no objection to you naming her your Princess Consort. However, you are my trueborn son and your father’s heir. You cannot have but one consort. You must ensure the succession, provide a thriving line for the Crown. Do you understand?” She looked pointedly at Seraphina, whose eyes remained fixed solely on Prince Edmund. Love, perhaps, grants boundless courage. Seraphina stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly, yet resolute. “Your Majesty, once Prince Edmund and I are wed, I shall strive with all my might to bear many children for the Crown. But Prince Edmund has sworn he will never take another woman.” “Every woman yearns for a singular bond with the man she loves, a life bound to one another alone. Surely, Your Majesty, you yourself cherish such a dream? I humbly implore you, do not grant any other noblewoman as a secondary consort to Prince Edmund.” Silence descended upon the hall, then erupted into a cacophony of varied expressions among the assembled nobles. The faces of several high noblewomen, whose daughters had hoped to become secondary consorts, turned as dark as storm clouds. “Lady Seraphina is bold indeed! Not yet Princess Consort, and already dictating who Prince Edmund may or may not take as a secondary consort!” “Which prince takes but one wife? Especially the King and Queen’s trueborn heir! What is she thinking? Does she wish the Prince to have a meager line?” “Any lady who weds into Prince Edmund’s household now will surely face a harsh future.” “It seems Lady Seraphina intends to monopolize the Prince’s affections entirely.” Prince Edmund, hearing Seraphina’s plea, knew it was ill-advised, yet his protective instinct prevailed. “Please, Mother, grant us this wish.” The Queen closed her eyes for a moment, then waved her hand dismissively. “You may all depart. A royal edict concerning the betrothal will be issued in three days.” All the courtiers filed out, a river of silk and velvet. I had not yet reached the palace gates when a voice called out, “Lady Eleanor!” It was Seraphina. Behind her, a lady-in-waiting carried a tray laden with jewels Prince Edmund had bestowed upon her. Seraphina smiled, approaching me. “My apologies, Lady Eleanor. I never imagined you wouldn’t compete today. I truly thought you would win.” I offered a faint smile. “My congratulations, Lady Seraphina. May your heart’s desire be fulfilled.” Her eyes welled up, glistening. “Will you resent me? I know the Queen favored you. But I love Prince Edmund so deeply, and he promised to wed me. For him, I had to set aside our friendship. Please, don’t hold it against me.” “This pomegranate brooch, Prince Edmund gave it to me. I wish to gift it to you, a token of our sisterly bond. May you soon find a worthy lord and bear many children.” I took the trinket. Before I could speak, a man’s hand snatched the brooch from my grasp. “That was my gift to you! Why would you give it away? It was a blessing for us to have many children after our wedding. How can you be so careless with my intentions?” Seraphina gazed at Prince Edmund, her expression coy and charming. “Your Grace, my sister is distraught at not being chosen. I merely wished to comfort her. You needn’t be so illiberal.” 3 Prince Edmund’s eyes, however, were fixed on me, a mocking glint in their depths. “Distraught? Lady Eleanor, it is my mother who favored you, not I. I hope you understand that. The Queen doubtless valued your father’s influence. But when I ascend to the throne, I shall be King! All will be my vassals, and all will support me, will they not?” “I shall not rely on a woman’s sway to solidify my reign. And I never once said I would wed you.” “In days past, I found our conversations pleasant, and your wit engaging. But I never imagined you harbored such grand ambition, to become my Princess Consort.” I watched them, a duet of self-serving condescension. My patience, however, had worn thin. I took a step back. “Your Grace, my presence at the Royal Selection was merely by royal decree. Every legitimate daughter of a three-star lord in King’s Landing must attend. As for relying on influence to bolster a kingdom, or any talk of you marrying me—let us dispense with such foolishness. It might cause your future Princess Consort undue distress.” “Should she misunderstand, and believe you imply her family is less powerful, how would Lady Seraphina bear the slight?” With that, I turned and departed. Lady Seraphina was naturally suspicious and petty. Her father, the Lord Chamberlain, held one of the least powerful offices among the King’s ministers. Compared to my father, the Duke of Ravenshield, her family’s standing was truly insignificant. Three days later, the royal edict naming Seraphina as Prince Edmund’s Princess Consort was proclaimed. Seraphina immediately arranged a garden party, inviting all the noblewomen of King’s Landing. Who dared refuse, given Prince Edmund’s favor? At the garden party, Seraphina was adorned in shimmering jewels, her hair bedecked with the ornaments Prince Edmund and the Queen had showered upon her. Not yet a Princess Consort, yet she carried herself with the full pomp and circumstance of one. I recalled how, in my last life, she had been admired by Prince Edmund for her understated elegance, her disdain for opulent jewels, praised for her ethereal grace. I wondered if, in this life, Prince Edmund would still remark on her unworldly purity, seeing her now. Seraphina, before all the guests, tightly grasped my hand. “My dear sister, when I wed, would you consider being my Maid of Honor? To accompany me into the royal chapel on my wedding day? With a few dear sisters by my side, I might feel less apprehensive.” Her face wore an expression of pleading, yet her eyes glinted with triumphant amusement. In her mind, she was the undisputed victor, and this was her moment to publicly humiliate me. “As the Princess Consort, who you choose for your Maid of Honor is your prerogative. Who in King’s Landing would dare refuse my future Princess Consort such a courtesy, Lady Eleanor? What say you?” The voice belonged to Prince Edmund, who had just entered. Even for a ladies’ garden party, Prince Edmund had hastened to lend his presence, a testament to his deep affection for her. All eyes were on me, awaiting my reply. If I assented, it would signify my submission to the Princess Consort’s authority. If I refused, I would openly defy Prince Edmund. Prince Edmund brimmed with confidence, and Seraphina radiated smugness. But they had forgotten: my father was the Duke of Ravenshield, master of formidable forces. Aside from the King and Queen, I bowed to no one. I gently, but firmly, disengaged my hand from Seraphina’s. “My apologies, I fear I may not be able to attend your wedding, Your Grace. My father has sent for me, desiring my return home. Our departure is set for the very day of your nuptials with Prince Edmund.” Seraphina stared at me, her eyes brimming with moisture. “Is my sister truly so angry with me, so upset? How could it be such a coincidence that the Duke of Ravenshield just happens to send for you now?” 4 My lady-in-waiting, sensing my cue, answered on my behalf. “My lord Duke’s messengers arrived last night. They bear tidings of a betrothal already arranged for my lady. My lady has been in King’s Landing for half a year now; it is high time she returned home to prepare her trousseau for her nuptials.” At these words, Prince Edmund’s face visibly darkened. “You are returning to the Northern Marches? Your father sent you to King’s Landing not to find a noble husband here, to wed within the capital?” “I know you are displeased that I chose Seraphina. But what if I promised you that, after our wedding, I would take you as a secondary consort?” Seraphina’s face turned ashen. Before she could speak, I interjected, a faint smile on my lips. “What jest is this, Your Grace? Was it not just the other day, in the Great Hall, that you declared to the Queen your desire for a singular bond with Lady Seraphina?” “Moreover, a legitimate daughter of the House of Blackwood would never stoop to being a secondary consort.” Prince Edmund gritted his teeth. “Lady Eleanor, must you always be the Princess Consort? Is this empty title truly so important to you?” I looked at him, genuinely bewildered. “Your Grace, I never expressed a desire to be your Princess Consort. I have simply been away from home for too long, and my parents yearn for my return. I have no kin in King’s Landing. Returning home is only proper. Does Your Grace believe it acceptable to deny someone the right to return to their family?” Prince Edmund’s face grew progressively darker. “What if I refuse? What if I insist on marrying you?” “Then Your Grace will surely be disappointed. Lady Eleanor and I are already betrothed. Does Your Grace intend to abduct my future wife?” I turned, and there, entering the estate, was Sir Kaelen Vance, the Knight Commander. He was clad in rugged travel leathers, his face still bearing the dust of the road, clearly having ridden a thousand miles to reach King’s Landing. He strode in, taking a stand by my side, silently shielding me. Prince Edmund glared at him. “Knight Commander, are you not sworn to the borderlands? How dare you enter King’s Landing without royal summons?” Kaelen merely smiled. “I come by the Duke of Ravenshield’s command, to deliver a vital war report to His Majesty, and to escort Lady Eleanor, my betrothed, back to the Northern Marches.” “His Majesty, I trust, will understand my youthful fervor, that I might seize this duty of delivering dispatches for the sake of escorting my future wife. Coupled with our recent, glorious victory, His Majesty surely will not hold it against me.” He then looked at me, his eyes holding no one else but me. “My Lady Eleanor, this garden party seems exceedingly dull. I know a place just outside the city where the peach blossoms are in full, exquisite bloom. I could take you there; it would be infinitely more beautiful than this confined garden.” I smiled, rising. I curtseyed to Prince Edmund and Seraphina. “I shall take my leave now. I fear I may be long departed by the day of your wedding, so allow me to offer my best wishes for a century of harmony.” With that, I walked towards Sir Kaelen and followed him out of the manor. Prince Edmund rushed after us. “Lady Eleanor, can being a mere Knight Commander’s wife truly compare to being my secondary consort?” “Should I ascend to the throne, I promise you the rank of the most favored Lady of Silverwood. How does that sound?” Kaelen vaulted onto his steed, extending a hand to me. “Do you still recall how to ride?” I smiled, reaching for his hand. “Fortuitously, I haven’t forgotten.” I swung myself onto the saddle, sharing his mount, and we galloped away towards the city gates, leaving Prince Edmund’s desperate words and his despair behind. Prince Edmund’s wedding was a grand affair. On the morning of the ceremony, my carriage was already prepared, ready to depart. Unexpectedly, our procession crossed paths with the bridal procession on the streets of King’s Landing. I had deliberately chosen a route their wedding party would avoid. Yet, Prince Edmund, for some reason, had chosen this very street. Clad in his ceremonial wedding robes, he stood before my carriage, blocking our path. “Eleanor, are you truly leaving?”

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I longed to alter the tragic fate of the Divine Child, who, a millennium ago, met a gruesome end. Harnessing the System, I became his shadow for five years. Finally, after he inadvertently broke his vows, he agreed to abandon his monastic life and marry me. The night before our wedding, at the Royal Hunting Grounds, assassins struck. In that critical moment, he pushed me aside, choosing instead to shield the Emperor’s beloved Concubine. His sword gleamed, blood staining his pristine white robes, yet not a drop touched his untouched, beloved Concubine. I clutched my shoulder, the wound searing. It was then I finally understood: this love, spanning a thousand years, had to end. I summoned the long-silent System. “I want to go home.” “I no longer wish to alter his fate of being implicated by his pure love, of being dismembered, of having his sacred bones carved out, piece by agonizing piece.” 1 “System, I want to go home.” The long-dormant System, summoned by my plea, swiftly materialized. “Host, are you certain? The journey through time is a one-way trip. Once you return, you cannot go back to the era of Siddhartha, the Divine Child.” The System’s tone betrayed a hint of regret, even pity, for me. After all, it was the System that had sent me across a thousand years, thrusting me into this alien ancient world. I had sought Siddhartha, hoping to change his grim destiny. A bitter smile touched my lips. “I tried…” Siddhartha, the Divine Child, was a revered monk in history, born with sacred bones, his presence as pure and cold as fresh snow. He left behind countless holy scriptures, a distant, ethereal moon in the long night of history. Yet, he died at the age of twenty-five, all for a childhood sweetheart. For five years in this world, I meticulously chronicled every detail of his life, every fleeting expression, every nuanced gesture. Everyone knew that my eyes were solely for Siddhartha. Before I came here, I had studied him for so long. For him, I would have risked everything. I accompanied him through wind and rain, traversing treacherous, muddy mountain paths, simply to visit an ancient, barely accessible temple. For this, I caught a severe fever and broke a leg. I couldn’t comprehend the intricate, archaic scriptures, yet I willingly spent all my savings to purchase rare, sole copies for him, simply to witness him press his hands together in prayer, offering me a fleeting, gentle smile. Finally, on the fifth year, he returned from a royal banquet. He had been poisoned, and in that moment, he broke his monastic vows. He bit my lips. He murmured against my ear. He held me tightly, begging me not to leave him. I remember Siddhartha after he awoke. His eyes were bloodshot, his entire being seemingly fractured. His prayer beads were tightly wrapped around his hand, the veins prominent, as if ready to consume. He chanted his vows repeatedly, self-flagellating, unable to even glance at me. I gasped, a painful, heavy breath. Quietly, I began to dress. “Siddhartha, I’ll go out first…” “Wait!” He frowned, his voice cold, stopping me. “I have broken my vows. I can no longer be a monk.” His voice was light, yet it echoed in my ears for an eternity. “I will marry you.” I stood there, dumbfounded for a long time, before the meaning of Siddhartha’s words truly registered. My heart pounded in my ears like a drum. My very blood seemed to turn into viscous honey. Dizzily, a silly smile plastered on my face, I personally oversaw every detail of our impending wedding. My hands ached as I penned hundreds of invitations with an unfamiliar brush, my calligraphy clumsy. I cut out countless symbols of happiness from red paper. The patterns on my wedding gown felt too vulgar, unfitting for the pure and ethereal Siddhartha, so I redesigned them again and again. Every single detail, I wanted to be perfect. Yet— Our wedding was postponed. I touched the scar on my shoulder, still tender where the wound had scabbed. I forced a smile, wiping away tears that had welled up unnoticed. I found a large sandalwood chest. Into it, I carefully placed everything related to Siddhartha from the past five years: the wedding gown I never had a chance to wear, the meticulously kept journal documenting every detail of his life, even his worn monk’s robes. At eighteen, I was still a naive, idealistic girl, full of grand fantasies. I believed the System had sent me to him so I could find a way to keep him alive before he reached twenty-five. Later, I realized history simply could not be changed. No matter how long I stayed by his side, he would always, just as the historical records stated, sacrifice his life for the Imperial family. “Host, are you truly not staying?” I shook my head. “When can you send me home?” “In five days, the transmission will begin. You have five days to bid farewell to the people here, to leave no regrets…” 2 I entrusted the chest to Aella, my maidservant of five years. “After I leave,” I told her. “Take these to Lady Seraphina, the Royal Concubine. Consider it a keepsake for her.” Aella held the chest, her brow furrowed with anxious confusion. “Lady Aspen, where are you going? Are you not staying to marry the Divine Child?” Over the years, my profound admiration and relentless pursuit of Siddhartha had been witnessed by all. “Where are you going?” a cool, clear voice interrupted. I turned to see Siddhartha stepping out of his chambers. Moonlight enveloped his pristine white robes, casting a sacred, silvery glow around him. I recalled the first time I saw him; it was a scene much like this. He sat upon a lotus throne, revered by thousands, his slender fingers turning prayer beads as he chanted sutras, blessing all living beings. Just one glance, and I could never tear my eyes away. His gaze, however, had never truly lingered on me. “Nowhere,” I replied. “You know, I don’t know anyone else here.” For five years, my entire world had revolved around him, trying everything I could to change his future. “Just tidying some unnecessary things,” I murmured, my words more for myself than for him. “Asking Aella to dispose of them.” By clearing away these obsessions, I could leave without a single lingering regret. Siddhartha asked no further questions, merely glancing at the now empty hall. He had always been quiet and reserved, only showing a flicker of emotion when discussing scriptures with me, or when seeing someone else. 3 That evening, an urgent knocking echoed at the temple gates. I watched, startled, as Lady Seraphina, the Royal Concubine, stood at the entrance, dressed in humble maid’s attire. “Your Ladyship, what brings you here?” Lady Seraphina, her face etched with concern, walked directly towards Siddhartha’s chambers, her steps revealing a familiar ease. It was as if she had been here countless times before. “Siddhartha was injured protecting me,” she explained, her voice tinged with anxiety. “I simply couldn’t rest easy.” She then clutched my sleeve, her beautiful eyes glinting mischievously. “You must keep my presence here a secret.” I followed silently behind her, feeling like an unwelcome intruder, as she entered Siddhartha’s room. The moment Siddhartha saw her, the scripture he held slipped from his fingers. He rose abruptly. “Nonsense! What are you doing here?” I had never seen the usually serene Siddhartha so openly furious. His cold, rebuking words instantly brought tears to Lady Seraphina’s eyes. She bit her lip, crystal tears clinging to her lashes, and whimpered, “Why did you get hurt for me…?” “I was afraid no one else could care for you properly. I had to come see you myself to feel at ease.” I stiffened. My heart was yanked, a dull ache spreading through me. I had shared intimacy with Siddhartha, and we were engaged to be married, yet in their eyes, I was utterly insignificant, merely “someone else.” “If you don’t want to see me, I’ll leave!” Lady Seraphina declared, turning on her heel in a fit of pique. Siddhartha rose so quickly that his leg bumped against the corner of the table. He didn’t pause, grabbing Lady Seraphina’s arm firmly. In the process, the wound I had bandaged and dressed for him just days before reopened. Blood stained the fresh bandage, yet he didn’t notice, his eyes fixed solely on Lady Seraphina. Lady Seraphina gasped, staring at the blood dripping from his fingertips. Large tears welled in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Oblivious to my presence, she cupped Siddhartha’s hand, carefully unwrapping the bandage. Her fingers trembling, she applied ointment. I clearly saw the ice in Siddhartha’s eyes melt. Siddhartha, who abhorred being touched, did not withdraw his hand. He gently, tenderly wiped away Lady Seraphina’s tears. “Seraphina,” he murmured, his voice softening, “don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt… And it’s not worth risking your life by sneaking out of the palace. Don’t ever do this again.” His voice grew hoarse. “You are the Emperor’s Concubine. You rightfully belong in the palace, by His Majesty’s side.” Seraphina. That was Lady Seraphina’s intimate given name. For five years, Siddhartha had only ever addressed me by my full name, “Aspen.” This, I realized, was the stark difference. 4 I remembered that night in the meditation hall, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood. Even drugged, his mind clouded, he had tried his best not to touch me. His robes remained undisturbed. In his dark, unfocused eyes, there was only black ice. He had merely used me as an antidote. Thinking back now, his desperate embrace, his pleas for me not to leave… It was all an illusion, a delirium brought on by the drug, mistaking me for someone else. I, foolishly, had been so happy, believing he was simply not good with words, accustomed to asceticism, but that he held a small, unique affection for me. It wasn’t until I witnessed his interaction with Lady Seraphina that I truly understood. His coldness, his detachment from worldly desires, was reserved only for me. 5 I quietly retreated. My nose stung, and I gazed at the hazy, distant moon. A moon that could not be plucked from the sky. So let it remain there, unreachable. From afar, I would offer my silent blessings. Through the closed door, Lady Seraphina’s broken sobs drifted intermittently. “Siddhartha, you know how to wound me so deeply!” she cried. “Do you hate me? I thought you had severed all earthly ties…” “You were forced into the selection for the Royal Concubines back then, weren’t you? Don’t you know who I truly wished to marry?” “You only became a monk after I entered the palace, didn’t you?” I covered my ears, desperate not to hear. But Lady Seraphina’s cries, and his low, comforting murmurs, infiltrated every crevice, piercing my ears, stabbing my heart. Finally, Lady Seraphina’s voice ceased. Then came the sound of a table colliding with something. A long time passed before Lady Seraphina emerged. Her lipstick was smudged. I averted my eyes, forbidding myself to speculate, to grieve over someone who held no consequence for me. Five days left. In five days, I would be able to leave. And never return. Lady Seraphina’s smile was dazzling, yet strangely cutting. She leaned in, as if deliberately wanting me to notice something, and pressed a small bottle of medicine into my hand. “You know, as a Royal Concubine, I cannot often leave the palace,” she purred. “So, I’ll have to trouble you to look after Siddhartha. He has a cold temperament, pushing others away, so please, Lady Aspen, bear with him.” She spoke as if declaring her ownership, introducing Siddhartha to me. I was his nominal “fiancée.” How could it be a “trouble”? Compared to every previous disappointment and hurt, I calmly took the medicine from her hand and nodded in agreement. Siddhartha rushed out after her, his expression surprisingly anxious. I felt a faint, bitter laugh bubble up within me. He believed I would make things difficult for the pure love he cherished in his heart. But what right did I have? “Lady Seraphina and I have no intimate connection,” Siddhartha explained, for the first time, to me. “She came only out of gratitude for my saving her.” My gaze fell, landing directly on the lipstick stain on his pristine white robe. A vibrant, almost defiant color, like a delicate begonia blooming on his shoulder. I still felt a catch in my throat. “It seems the Concubine’s comfort was effective.” Siddhartha, noticing the lipstick mark, his face subtly shifting, frowned and vigorously tried to rub it off. “Aspen, it’s not what you think.” His voice returned to its usual composed tone, tinged with a hint of helpless exasperation, as if I were being unreasonable. “The Concubine merely tripped over the table, almost falling, and I simply helped her. Her lipstick just rubbed onto my robes.” Siddhartha’s cool eyes fixed on mine. In the years I had been by his side, I had grown somewhat insecure, constantly haunted by the historical accounts of his tragic end. Because I had come solely for him, he couldn’t possibly understand. I still remembered Siddhartha, like the pure white snow on a mountain peak, radiating compassion. He had said, word for word, “My heart is devoted to the Dharma, and it shall never change. I will never fall into the worldly abyss for anyone.” I stood outside the temple, having heard his words, and did not return to his side. That was when I first tried to summon the System to leave, but it did not respond. When Siddhartha found me, my eyes were swollen from crying. His profound features held no emotion, nor did he offer comfort. After a long time, when my sobs had dissolved into hiccups, he spoke calmly, “I’ve prepared the vegetarian meal. It will get cold if we don’t go back now, and cold vegetarian meals are not palatable.” I returned to his side. I thought I always would leave. He was so anxious about Lady Seraphina’s reputation. I closed my red-rimmed eyes. Since I was leaving anyway, why should I care so much? “Siddhartha, I believe you. I believe there’s nothing between you and Lady Seraphina.” 6 Late into the silent night, I unlaced my gown and applied ointment to my shoulder. Even today, Siddhartha remained unaware. On the day of the Royal Hunting Grounds, I too had been wounded. An assassin’s sword had pierced my arm, blood soaking through my clothes. It hurt so much, so terribly! After kicking me away, the assassin had sneered at me: “I heard that the Divine Child, Siddhartha, broke his vows for you, willing to forsake his monastic life and marry you. Yet, at the moment of life and death, the one he cared for, the one he saved, was not you!” “Tsk, tsk. You even thought to use your life to threaten him. Clearly, you’re not so important after all.” It was all just rumors. The Divine Child’s heart had never wavered. I couldn’t change anything. That day, I wore an ochre-red silk gown. The blood that flowed out was barely visible to others. My face was deathly pale. I strained to look towards Siddhartha. The moment the assassin lunged towards the Emperor’s side, Siddhartha made his choice. He violently pushed away my grasping hand, letting me fall to the ground, scraping my elbow. He grasped the sword, his hand closing around the blade, deflecting it from Lady Seraphina. Blood dripped from his fingers; even from a distance, it seared my eyes. Each drop fell onto his pristine white robes. All the chaos on the ground, the blood… was shielded by his tall, resolute figure. It was Lady Seraphina who reacted first. She suppressed the anxiety on her face, still feigning unfamiliarity with Siddhartha. Lady Seraphina stammered, holding back tears, her voice reaching my ears: “Divine Child, you need not save me. You should first save Lady Aspen.” Siddhartha did not glance my way, his voice cool and detached: “Her Ladyship’s life is more important than hers.” The medicinal powder stung the wound on my shoulder. I gasped, a sharp intake of breath. I finally understood: true affection could not be feigned. One would instinctively risk their life to protect the person they truly cared for! Recalling that scene at the hunting grounds, even now, as I decided to leave, a bitter ache still lingered in my heart. But it no longer mattered. Once I left this era, I would completely forget him, wouldn’t I? 7 From my sleeve, I pulled out the last item belonging to Siddhartha. It was a string of blood-red prayer beads. When the System first sent me to this era, I had dropped from the sky, still wearing strange, modern clothes. The villagers murmured, reporting me to the authorities, intending to have me arrested for questioning. I hid, dodging their pursuit, until I saw Siddhartha, pure and serene, seated on a lotus throne, chanting scriptures and offering blessings. When he prepared to return to the temple, I finally appeared before him. “Divine Child, can you save me just this once?” I pleaded. “I will repay you!” Siddhartha said nothing. He simply allowed me to hide in his palanquin. The palanquin was small, and we were pressed closely together. His cool robes, imbued with the scent of sandalwood, brushed against my face, filling me with a lingering sense of melancholy. I mourned for the historically famous figure who would one day fall. As he departed, Siddhartha slipped the prayer beads from his wrist and gave them to me. “This is my token. The officials will not trouble you if they see it.” I caressed the warm, smooth beads in my hand. No matter how much lingering attachment I had, it was time to sever it. The day before I left, I found Siddhartha. I held out the string of prayer beads that had never left my wrist, offering them to him. I had initially intended to seal them in the chest, but these prayer beads, it was said, were a relic passed down to him by his master. After some thought, I decided it was best to return them to him personally. “These prayer beads are too precious,” I said. “I no longer have need of them, so I’m returning them to you. My apologies for causing you so much trouble all this time.” Siddhartha was deep in meditation. At my words, he suddenly opened his clear, profound eyes. “You don’t want them?” His voice seemed a fraction more urgent. I thought I must have misheard. I smiled and nodded. “Yes. It’s your master’s prayer beads; it’s not fitting for me to keep wearing them. When you meet someone more important in the future, you can give them to her.” This was my last farewell to him. The System had told me not to leave any regrets. I expected him to say something to me, even just a question. But he asked nothing. After a cool nod, he took the prayer beads from my hand. Historical records stated that he was born with sacred bones, destined for monastic life. I took one last, lingering look at Siddhartha’s features, as cold and sharp as carved ice. He truly looked like a living Buddha seated on a lotus throne, devoid of all human emotion. This was for the best. As if I had never appeared at all. 8 On my final day before the System transported me away, an imperial decree arrived from the palace, summoning both Siddhartha and me for an audience with the Emperor. On the way to the main hall, I suddenly twisted my ankle. The palace attendants instructed me to rest in the Royal Gardens while they went to fetch a palanquin. I sat quietly behind a cluster of flowering shrubs. There, I saw Lady Seraphina, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. Apart from that one time she secretly snuck out of the palace and was rebuked by Siddhartha, she had never dared to leave the palace again. She wore a lavish palace gown, accompanied by her maidservant, looking rather despondent as she admired the flowers. After ensuring no one else was nearby, Lady Seraphina caressed a flower branch and murmured, “I wonder how much longer it will be before I can see Siddhartha again. He is about to abandon his monastic life and marry… What reason will I have left to visit him then?” Lady Seraphina forced a pale smile. “Sometimes, I selfishly wish he would remain a monk his entire life, devoted to the solitary lamp and ancient scriptures. If he cannot belong to me, then he should not belong to any other woman.” Her maid, likely her confidante, consoled her. “Your Ladyship, do you not already know why the Divine Child is forsaking his vows, why he is marrying that woman?” She paused, leaning in conspiratorially. “It’s all for you, Your Ladyship!” “At the imperial banquet, someone deliberately set a trap for Your Ladyship. The Divine Child, upon learning of it, specifically swapped the wine cups and drank the poisoned wine himself. This servant created an opportunity for you to be alone with him, yet he preferred to bite his own tongue until it bled rather than touch Your Ladyship, using your precious body as an antidote. He firmly sent Your Ladyship back to the palace, and only after confirming your safety did he leave.” “That shameless woman, who has followed the Divine Child for five years, constantly clinging to him, is merely his antidote. Why should Your Ladyship concern yourself with her existence? If the Divine Child had truly harbored feelings for her, he would not have allowed her to remain by his side for five years, only to offer to marry her out of obligation after that incident.” I raised my cold hand and rubbed my stiff, numb face. I knew in my heart that I was merely Siddhartha’s “antidote,” but hearing it spoken so contemptuously by others was an entirely different experience. He was unwilling to sully or contaminate his “pure love,” unwilling to subject her to gossip within the palace, so he chose me. I limped on my sprained ankle, following Siddhartha in a daze to the main hall. The Emperor, majestic and smiling, spoke, “You, as a man of the cloth, bravely risked your life to protect my beloved Concubine. For this, you have rendered great service. I hear you broke your monastic vows for a woman named Aspen. I grant you permission to return to secular life, and I bestow upon you and that woman my imperial blessing for marriage!” This was an immense honor, like a thunderbolt, exploding within the grand hall. Siddhartha, who was kneeling before me, lifted his face in disbelief, his body under his robes suddenly rigid. Actually, Siddhartha didn’t need to be so distressed. I was leaving soon; I wouldn’t entangle him further, nor would I marry him. “I respectfully ask His Majesty to retract the decree,” I said, standing up, ignoring the myriad gazes fixed upon me. “This commoner does not wish to marry him.” I continued, “This commoner does not belong here and will soon depart…” Siddhartha’s cool demeanor shattered like broken jade, cracking inch by agonizing inch. His eyes were wide with shock, and the corners of his eyes were faintly red as he looked at me. “Aspen, what are you saying?” 9 “Where are you going?” Siddhartha’s face was ashen, as if he had been struck by lightning. He was like a shattered jade Buddha, revealing the panic hidden within. He gripped my wrist, his fingers white, pressing painfully into my skin. I hadn’t even had a chance to speak. A palace attendant, frantic, burst into the hall. “Your Majesty, Lady Seraphina collapsed just outside the hall!” She didn’t want the Emperor to bestow the marriage. Actually, I had never truly hoped to marry Siddhartha; I just wanted to try and change his fate. I was an outsider from the beginning, so it was best to return him to her. The Emperor, overcome with concern, immediately left the hall to see to Lady Seraphina. Others followed, leaving the grand hall empty. Only Siddhartha remained, his eyes red-rimmed, still clutching my wrist, refusing to let go. If only he had tried to keep me earlier… I smiled at him, my gaze falling on his hand wrapped in prayer beads. “The Concubine collapsed. Aren’t you going to check on her?” It was too tiring, seeing him abandon me again and again to rush to Lady Seraphina’s side. Siddhartha’s serene face was taut. He lowered his gaze, revealing a flicker of panic and vulnerability. “Aspen, I won’t do it again!” His voice was hoarse. “I… I ruined your purity, I am honor-bound to take responsibility! I will accept the Imperial marriage decree…” He tightened his grip on my wrist. “Just as we agreed before, I will leave my monastic life and marry you!” I chuckled softly, interrupting him. “Divine Child, you chose me only because you were drugged. I was merely an ‘antidote,’ nothing more. You don’t need to trouble yourself over it.” Siddhartha’s face grew even paler, as if a sharp thorn had pierced his heart. His voice trembled slightly as he called my name, urgent. “Aspen, it’s not like that! I had actually made my choice long before! The drug didn’t completely cloud my mind; I know exactly what I did and what I said!” “It’s not that I didn’t want to marry you. It’s just that I couldn’t come to terms with it myself; I had allowed worldly desires to sway me…” “My feelings for Lady Seraphina are purely gratitude! When I was young and destitute, the Vance family offered me kindness. I promised Lord Vance I would protect Lady Seraphina, that’s all it ever was.” “What you heard was not the truth, Aspen. Why didn’t you ask me? After she entered the palace, I never harbored any improper thoughts!” “Aspen, I can tell you, I regard Lady Seraphina as a benefactor, as a sister I need to protect, but not as a romantic interest…” From outside the palace hall, a collective sigh of relief echoed. “Wonderful! Her Ladyship has awakened!” Lady Seraphina, awakening in the Emperor’s arms, instinctively, weakly called out Siddhartha’s name, again and again. Siddhartha’s body instantly tensed, afraid to turn back. Outside the grand hall, the crowd gathered around the Concubine held their breath. Lady Seraphina’s maid knelt. “Your Majesty, Her Ladyship has been fainting frequently recently, with no discernible cause. There are rumors of malevolent spirits troubling the Inner Palace, many of the palace staff have witnessed them… The Divine Child, Siddhartha, with his profound Buddhist teachings and deep cultivation, is the very one Her Ladyship wished to invite into the palace to dispel these ill omens.” Lady Seraphina, now awake and nestled in the Emperor’s arms, looked towards Siddhartha. “His Majesty, it is precisely so. My body has grown weaker and weaker lately. I heard His Majesty was about to bestow a marriage upon the Divine Child, so I wanted to seize the opportunity to invite the Divine Child to the palace to dispel evil. Who knew I would collapse again right at the palace entrance?” Others might not have noticed. But I heard it clearly: Lady Seraphina emphasized the words “bestow a marriage” with particular weight. The frozen tension in the air finally dissipated. The Emperor, doting on his beloved Concubine, agreed to let Siddhartha go to her palace to dispel evil.

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Finally discharged, free from the confines of the mental hospital, I thought I was ready to rejoin the world, a new woman, free from the shadow of my bipolar disorder. But barely two days back in my own apartment, I felt the familiar grip of my illness tightening its hold again. The reason? Some online streamer, who’d apparently moved into the apartment above mine, 702. She was raging, partying every single night, utterly oblivious to the misery she was causing me below. I’d gone upstairs a few times to politely ask her to quiet down. Each time, she’d offer a sickly sweet “Oh, absolutely, I won’t do it again,” only to crank up the volume the moment I left. She was a law unto herself. In the dead of night, the throbbing bass from her latest ‘performance’ ripped through my apartment, shaking the very walls. I jolted awake, my teeth aching from the vibration. That was it. I snapped. My hand closed around the cool, solid grip of my kitchen knife, and I started for the door, heading upstairs. Just then, my phone chimed. A notification from the building’s resident group chat. It was Ashley from 702, tagging me directly. “Next week’s my birthday, everyone else has already sent their gifts.” “When’s yours coming?” “I’m not asking for much, just a couple of thousand dollars will do. Oh, and you’re complaining about the noise, right? How about you buy me some decent noise-cancelling shoes? I wear a size 7, and my husband is a size 10.” I actually laughed. A choked, bitter laugh. Dr. Miller had drilled “stay calm, stay calm” into me before I left the hospital. If not for his persistent warnings, I couldn’t guarantee what would have happened to them. After a moment of consideration, I put the knife down. In the group chat, I typed a single, stark question mark. Her reply was instant. “Looks like you just moved back in, so I’ll let this month slide. But starting next month, I expect a payment of two thousand dollars from you. Every month. Transfer it to my account by the 6th. Be prompt, don’t make me chase you.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, the shock rippling through me from head to toe. I’d heard of people asking for birthday gifts, but a monthly birthday? Did her mother give birth to her twelve times a year? I was about to unleash a furious retort when a verification message popped up – from Chloe, who’d just spoken in the group chat. I accepted. A voice note arrived almost immediately, filled with genuine concern. “Girl, you have to stay calm. Ashley from 702? You really don’t want to mess with her. Just send her some money, pretend you’re hard up, say some nice things. It’ll blow over.” “What do you mean?” I demanded, “She’s completely shameless. And you all just enable her?” “Sigh. You’ll understand later.” I put down my phone, my body trembling. A fire raged within me, barely held back by a fragile thread of reason. I let out a low, grim chuckle, the veins in my hands bulging. Enable her? That word wasn’t in my dictionary. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the impulse to lash out. In the group, I typed: “What kind of demonic entity, reincarnated a dozen times, made your mother give birth to you twelve times a year?” Her response was immediate, like a lit fuse. A piercing shriek erupted from my phone. It made me jump. Then, message after message, a torrent of them. Soon, the group chat hit ’99+,’ all voice notes from Ashley, each a full sixty-six seconds long. A joke. Did she really think I’d listen? When I didn’t reply, she typed out a message. “503, you just wait. You brought this on yourself.” “If anything happens, remember to go after 503! It has nothing to do with me!” The group chat fell silent. I turned off my phone, checked my 7 AM alarm, and lay down to sleep. Just as I was drifting off, it started. The entire building vibrated. Thump-thump-thump! It sounded like a drum kit, amplified. Several times louder than her usual streaming sessions. Great. Now it wasn’t just me, but all the other neighbors suffering. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. I thought it would be neighbors ganging up on Ashley. Instead, they were all tagging me. “503, please, have a heart. Have pity on us! My daughter has school tomorrow!” “Seriously! It was only bothering you before, and now we’re all suffering because of you. What kind of person are you?!” I genuinely laughed, a cold, humorless sound. So Ashley was waiting for me there, was she? I immediately tagged Ashley. “Your drumming sucks. Want me to come upstairs and give you some lessons?” Followed by a bloody kitchen knife emoji. The group went silent again. Luckily, I had noise-cancelling headphones. I put them on and managed to drift off. But the next morning, the building manager was at my door. Gary. He said I was disturbing the peace, that neighbors had complained about me. My temper flared instantly. I pulled out my phone and showed him the chat messages. “See? The one disturbing the peace is upstairs. You should be talking to her.” Gary, a slick operator who looked like he’d been doing this job for too long, and clearly had some shady connection with Ashley, sneered. “She’s lived here a long time, never had any noise complaints. And she just said it, didn’t she? You forced her hand.” “Are you blind, dude?” I snapped. “What did I force her to do? Do I even know her? She demanded money from me. So if I don’t give it, it’s my fault?” My nails were digging so deep into my palms it hurt, making me wince. He smirked, his stained teeth flashing as he spoke. “If she made an unreasonable request, you could have discussed it with her, couldn’t you? Was it necessary to provoke her? If you ask me, this is still your fault.” I reached for my kitchen knife. My face was expressionless. “Get out.” He seemed to recognize the shift in my demeanor. He turned and closed the door behind him. Then, my water and electricity went out. I checked online – no overdue bills. I checked my circuit breaker – it hadn’t tripped. I was standing there, shampoo in my hair, my body sticky from not having rinsed properly. No choice but to towel off. I posted in the resident group. “Is anyone else experiencing a power and water outage?” Only Chloe replied. “No, everything’s fine here.” I understood immediately. Gary. That rat. Without another word, I stormed down to the management office. They just kept denying it, insisting it wasn’t them. Gary, the same guy who’d visited my apartment, tried to deflect the blame onto me. “Maybe your plumbing or electrical lines weren’t handled properly during renovation?” Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone, pretending to call the police. “Alright, fine. Let the police come and sort this out.” At the mention of the police, Gary’s face fell. He quickly said, “Alright, alright, I’ll send a technician to check it out. You can head back and wait.” Sure enough, as soon as I got back, the water and power were restored. This confirmed it: Gary and Ashley were definitely in cahoots. But while the utilities were back, the moment 11 PM hit, the wild singing and dancing started again upstairs. Even with my noise-cancelling headphones, I was woken up several times. Damn it, I wasn’t going to sleep! I sat up, frantically rubbing my temples. A sleepless night. My ears were ringing, my nerves frayed, ready to snap. I glared at the ceiling, but a plan began to form in my mind. There’s an old saying: fight fire with fire. The next morning, dragging my exhausted body out for work, I found my doorstep piled high with trash. Even worse, there was a used sanitary pad. I was truly at my breaking point. Just the trash was infuriating enough, but then the building’s cleaning lady, Agnes, came by and started scolding me for littering. “You’re telling me you didn’t throw this out?” she demanded, “Do you have proof? No proof, it’s at your door, it’s yours.” Her incessant lecturing made my head throb. Seeing my obvious irritation, Agnes sighed. “Alright, I’ll let it slide this time. But if I catch you littering again, you’ll be fined.” I was pressing my fingers to my temples, my brain aching, when I caught a glimpse of a figure lurking behind the wall, eavesdropping. It was Ashley. I clenched my jaw. At the office, I immediately ordered a discreet security camera online, opting for expedited delivery and installation. Damn it, she liked to eavesdrop and gloat, did she? She thought she could pick on me because I lived alone and had no proof, huh? Tonight, the technician would install the camera. Anyone shameless enough to dump trash at my door again would have the evidence shoved right into their smug face! During my lunch break, I applied to my boss for a dorm room. Ryan looked surprised. “Didn’t you say you lived nearby?” I made up an excuse. “Living with family, it’s not very convenient.” Ryan nodded and approved it immediately. But I couldn’t move in until tomorrow afternoon. So tonight, I’d have to go back to my apartment. In the middle of the night, she was at it again upstairs. Booming, crashing. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to search for local live streams. Sure enough, I found her. Online name: ‘AshleyCan’tSleep.’ Stream title: ‘Riverside City’s Hottest Streamer.’ In the stream, she was wearing a tight short skirt, dancing energetically to pulsating music. She was really giving it her all, occasionally speaking in a breathy voice to thank ‘big brothers’ for their gifts. I paid close attention to her viewer count. Over 10,000 live viewers. She actually had a lot of fans. Halfway through her dance, a viewer asked, “Miss, your dancing is amazing, but won’t your neighbors complain?” Ashley saw the message, panting and wiping sweat. “Oh, how could they? My place has amazing soundproofing, it won’t disturb anyone’s rest.” I just scoffed when I saw that. But I also noticed something. Her fans clearly had no idea about her disruptive behavior. I’d overheard Agnes, the cleaning lady, gossiping about my neighbor, apartment 502, who had sold their place for a massive discount – sixty thousand dollars below market value. The reason? Ashley’s late-night disturbances. The family in 502 had an elderly parent with a heart condition. After several attempts to resolve the issue failed, the 502 resident, furious, threatened to beat Ashley. After that, 502’s family suffered intense retaliation from Ashley’s fans, and the elderly parent passed away from stress and illness, exacerbated by the constant harassment. Left with no choice, the family sold their apartment and moved away. Now it made sense. Ashley’s fans probably had no clue what she was truly like. Thinking this, I pulled out my phone and recorded the noise, gathering my evidence. Over the next few days, I specifically studied Ashley’s online accounts and analyzed her routine. She basically stayed awake when everyone else was sleeping, going to bed around 4 AM and sleeping until noon. Perfect! That meant on weekday mornings, everyone would be at work or school. Very few people would be home. After moving all my belongings to the company dorm, I made a quick trip back to my apartment. I checked the newly installed camera by my door, then looked up at the ceiling. Then, I pulled out the ‘Vibration Device’ I’d ordered. Climbing onto a chair, I taped the device to the ceiling, specifically right below her bedroom. I wanted to ensure maximum sonic penetration. I was very pleased with this device; it was small, but incredibly powerful, and crucially, it could be controlled remotely. That day, I slept soundly in the company dorm until morning. I hadn’t slept so comfortably in ages. I stretched, savoring the feeling. The thought of letting Ashley taste her own medicine, the torture of being unable to sleep, made me let out a grim, satisfied chuckle. At work, I glanced at the time. 10:30 AM. I pulled out my phone and opened the audio app. I passionately queued up ‘The Hottest Square Dance Songs of the Century,’ starting with a classic. After three days of this, Ashley couldn’t take it anymore. She started wildly tagging me in the resident group chat. “503, are you insane?! Don’t you know you’re disturbing the peace?!” “Speak up! Why are you playing dead?!” I ignored her. She was so desperate, she actually came to my door and started pounding. On my camera feed, I saw her, furiously running her hands through her hair, banging on my door. “503, you have the nerve to disturb people’s sleep but no nerve to open the door, do you?” “Oh, my apologies,” I said, my voice coming through the intercom. “I haven’t been home these past two days. I forgot to turn off the stereo.” The sudden voice startled Ashley. She then put her hands on her hips and raged, “You weren’t home, so you just left the stereo on?! You’re clearly doing this on purpose!” I replied, “Oh, if that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can do.” Ashley froze for a moment, then flew into a tantrum. “This is disturbing the peace! Don’t you have any public decency?!” When the pounding stopped, she was clearly frustrated, with nowhere to vent her anger. She kicked my door twice with all her might. But my door was sturdy. It was her who grimaced in pain, furious. “You just wait. If I can’t have peace, neither can you.” Two days passed, relatively peaceful. I thought the whole thing had blown over, but then Gary from property management called me. “Cassidy Chen from 503? This is Gary from property management. Your apartment is leaking, and it’s flooded the unit below. You need to come back and take a look.”

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1 My parents’ treasured heirloom lockets – matching pieces that had been passed down for generations – suddenly appeared at the May Day charity auction. No matter how high I bid, my wife’s childhood friend always outbid me by precisely a hundred dollars. It was the hundredth time he’d brazenly tried to snatch everything I valued. But my wife, Victoria, merely shrugged. “They’re just two worthless pieces of old metal. It’s Andy’s birthday today. If he likes them, just let him have them.” I laughed, a bitter, furious sound, then firmly declared my “All-In” bid. When the auction ended, my parents’ lockets were back in my possession, just as I’d intended. Victoria, surprisingly, didn’t seem angry. If anything, our relationship grew even closer, more affectionate. I indulged her every whim and fantasy in the year that followed. Then came our first wedding anniversary. I meticulously prepared an extravagant gift for my wife. Simultaneously, I received an invitation to an exclusive private auction. The sole item on offer: “999 intimate videos of the Blackwood heir.” Victoria appeared, arm-in-arm with Andy Wick, her eyes alight with a cruel amusement. “It’s Andy’s birthday. He wanted something a little more exciting. Since you love competing with him for things, I thought I’d let you bid to your heart’s content this time.” My laugh was bleak, hollow. So be it. Her wish was my command. Pixelated videos began to play on the giant screen. The scenes were painfully familiar: our wedding suite, the home I had meticulously built and cherished for her. “The Blackwood heir always seemed so proper and reserved. Never thought he’d be such a wild one in bed!” “Now that’s what you call a prize possession. I heard he pursued Victoria Vance for three years. She’s really lucky, isn’t she?” A group of older women whispered and winked, their comments laced with lewd delight. My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms, as I turned to Victoria, trembling. “Why?” Even though ours was an arranged marriage, we’d had three years of shared history, three years of building a life together. Despite Andy’s relentless provocations, nothing had seemed to disrupt the affection we’d shared over the past year. We’d even started planning for a child, hoping to conceive soon. Victoria nestled deeper into Andy’s embrace, her gaze scornful, utterly cold. “Because you always love to compete with Andy, and it upsets him.” Her smile widened. “You like your ‘All-In’ bids, don’t you? Well, here are 999 videos. Take your time, bid to your heart’s content.” Andy chuckled, planting a kiss on Victoria’s lips, his triumphant smile a painful stab to my heart. “Sweetheart, you really do care about me. But the Blackwood family is practically ruined. Julian, a mere house-husband, wouldn’t have enough money, even if he sold himself, would he?” The room erupted in derisive laughter. Malicious, assessing stares fell upon me. “The Blackwood parents are long dead, and the Blackwood Corporation is now in Victoria Vance’s hands. At this auction, the only ones with the funds to buy all those videos are Ms. Vance and Mr. Wick.” Victoria glanced at me, her indifference palpable. “I wouldn’t want such filthy videos to sully Andy’s eyes. I won’t be participating in this auction. Ladies, feel free to bid as you wish.” “Victoria, you’re so generous!” The women cheered. Andy embraced Victoria, teasing her. “Sweetheart, you helped our Wick family crush Blackwood, and you absorbed the Blackwood Corporation. Julian must be penniless now. Should we help him out?” Victoria’s eyes were full of adoration as she kissed Andy’s cheek. “Why bother with him? He owes you everything.” I stared at my wife, utterly disbelieving. She was a stranger. I stammered, “The Blackwood Corporation’s troubles… was that your doing?” Victoria scoffed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Blackwood was an eyesore to Andy. I merely helped him get some satisfaction.” My fists clenched tighter, my heart feeling like it was being brutally squeezed. So, it was all a premeditated act of revenge, simply because a year ago, I’d reclaimed my parents’ heirlooms from Andy’s grasp? Victoria looked down at me, her tone imperious. “Julian Blackwood, I can give you a chance. Bid ‘All-In,’ or… kneel and apologize to Andy, a thousand times.” I took a deep breath, my voice firm. “I won’t kneel to him.” A flicker of surprise crossed Victoria’s face, followed by a mocking laugh. “Julian Blackwood, do you even have a choice? Or do you want to see the Blackwood name utterly disgraced?” I looked at the auctioneer, my eyes resolute. “Begin.” On the large screen, my humiliating moments were displayed in full. The auctioneer, hammer in hand, smiled meaningfully. “Lot number one: the kitchen video! Starting bid: one million dollars!” A collective gasp swept through the room. “The kitchen! Ms. Vance certainly knows how to pick a place.” “Never thought the esteemed Blackwood heir would be so… compliant! I bid two million!” I trembled, watching the scene on the screen. It was my birthday. Victoria had personally baked me a cake, and I, deeply touched, had been pulled by her into a night of passion in that very kitchen. She had a particular fetish, and I had gritted my teeth and indulged her, even agreeing to certain… props. 2 Now, I was the one on display, the very item being auctioned. Victoria sat calmly on the raised platform, her eyes filled with open mockery. That gaze, sharp as a blade, sliced into my already fragile heart. All eyes were on me, the mocking laughter echoing in my ears, threatening to drown me. I slumped back into my seat, my voice weak. “All-In bid.” The attendant didn’t light the ‘Sky Lantern’ above my head. Instead, he reminded me, a taunting edge to his voice, “Mr. Blackwood, your account has just been frozen.” “What?!” My face registered utter disbelief. After the Blackwood Corporation’s liquidation, there was still a ten-million-dollar deposit left – the last assets my parents had saved for me before their passing. “His assets are frozen? What’s he going to bid with now?!” “I thought he could at least buy one or two videos. Didn’t realize he couldn’t even produce a single cent.” I shot up from my chair, glaring at Victoria on the second-floor platform. “You did this!” Victoria’s tone was dismissive. “The Blackwood Corporation is in my hands. Isn’t it perfectly normal for an outsider’s assets to be frozen?” Andy Wick sneered. “If Mr. Blackwood is short on cash, perhaps he should humble himself and beg the wealthy ladies present. If he sweet-talks them, they’d surely be delighted to sponsor such a handsome young man.” The crowd burst into boisterous laughter, endorsing his suggestion. Some lecherous older women even tried to drag me directly to their private rooms. The auctioneer urged, “Mr. Blackwood, if you can’t produce the funds for your ‘All-In’ bid, this video lot will proceed with bidding.” I slapped away their malicious hands, my voice trembling as I dialed a loan number. “I need a hundred million dollars.” The predatory expressions on their faces faltered, replaced by bored smirks. The auction continued. The auctioneer smiled, bringing down his hammer. “Lot number one has successfully been claimed by Bidder 13. Congratulations on acquiring the kitchen video, Mr. Blackwood!” “Ah, what a shame! I wanted to see the Blackwood heir’s graceful moves in the kitchen!” “What’s to be afraid of? He’s taken out a loan shark’s deal – pay back thirteen for every nine you borrow. A hundred million won’t last long.” “Exactly. There are 999 videos in total. Let’s see how much more he can borrow.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The second video set appeared on the big screen. “Lot number two: the balcony video! Starting bid: one million dollars!” The auctioneer’s voice was full of glee as he described the video. The entire room erupted once more. “First the kitchen, now the balcony! They’re really having fun!” “I bid three million!” Even some perverted men next to me started closing in, reaching out. “Mr. Blackwood, why don’t you entertain me?” “Yeah, Victoria doesn’t want you, but I do. Serve me well, and I’ll buy this video for you.” “Get out!” I snapped, my voice ice-cold, driving them away. The men who had approached me looked disgusted. “He acts so pure, but he was wild as can be in the video.” “I bid five million!” “I bid ten million! When I get that video, I’ll have it played on loop at the Blackwood family gravesite!” A cold shiver ran through me. Trembling, I raised my bidding paddle. “All… All-In bid.” The auctioneer brought down his hammer, his smile profoundly meaningful. “Bidder 13 takes the ‘All-In’ bid again! Congratulations, Mr. Blackwood, on acquiring the balcony video!” The auctioneer’s hammer fell. Lot number three, lot number four… the intimate videos continued to be auctioned. I could only raise my paddle, trembling, again and again. Declaring “All-In” bids, time after time. Until I had purchased 99 video sets. “Lot number 100: the rooftop video! Starting bid: one million dollars!” “All…” “Mr. Blackwood, your remaining funds are insufficient to continue with ‘All-In’ bids,” the auctioneer reminded me, his smile taunting. The women in the room began to whistle. “No more money, huh? I’m looking forward to seeing how a family with such a scholarly lineage like the Blackwoods produced someone who would engage in such behavior in the wild!” “Entertain me, and I’ll buy this video for you.” I ignored the vulgar insults around me and dialed the loan company again. “Apologies, Mr. Blackwood, your current collateral is insufficient for further loans.” Despairingly, I lowered the phone, my gaze instinctively drawn to Victoria on the second-floor platform. Victoria was being fed by Andy Wick, and as if sensing my gaze, the adoration in her eyes instantly turned to contempt. All eyes in the room swiveled to Victoria. After all, she was the only one present who could help me buy the remaining 899 videos. Victoria merely looked down at me from her vantage point. “Julian Blackwood, what I said before still stands.” Kneel and apologize? A cold laugh twisted in my heart. Andy Wick, feigning generosity, said, “Given how long you’ve served Victoria, even if there’s no credit, there’s been hard work. How about I help you buy the remaining ones?” The other women’s smiles were knowing. “Mr. Wick is so kind-hearted! Even now, he’s willing to help his love rival.” “Yes, no wonder Victoria loves Mr. Wick. Julian Blackwood is just a low-class plaything. What could he possibly compare to Mr. Wick?” 3 I squeezed my eyes shut, vowing never to forget the humiliation they inflicted upon me. Andy Wick rose and walked over to my side. He lowered his voice, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Poor boy. Just divorce Victoria and walk away with nothing. I’ll give you a billion dollars to buy all the remaining videos. How about it?” “Get lost.” My voice was cold as ice. Andy deliberately stumbled backward, as if I’d shoved him hard, landing on the ground with a pained expression. “I… I was just trying to help you. How dare you intentionally hurt me?!” Victoria rushed over, helping Andy up from the floor, and then slapped me across the face. “Who gave you the nerve to hurt Andy?!” I wiped the blood oozing from the corner of my mouth, my gaze fixed on my wife, cold and distant. In all our years of marriage, this was the first time I’d seen her so enraged, and it was all for another man. “Continue the auction! Don’t leave a single one! Let the whole world see the true, despicable face of the Blackwood heir!” Victoria snapped at the auctioneer. Andy, however, pulled Victoria back, his voice gentle and soothing. “Sweetheart, I’m fine. He probably just can’t accept it right now. After all, he can’t stand seeing your favoritism towards me. It’s only natural for him to hate me.” Victoria shielded Andy behind her, her eyes turning even colder as she looked at me. “Andy is still defending you, and yet you are so malicious.” I found it utterly ridiculous. This was the woman I had poured my heart into for four years. “Victoria, let’s get a divorce.” “What did you say?” “We’re getting a divorce.” My gaze was earnest as I looked at Victoria. This marriage was always a scheme to get revenge on me. Now that Victoria had gotten what she wanted, it was time for it to end. Victoria seemed to falter for a moment, then a cold laugh escaped her lips. “Julian Blackwood, what cunning game are you playing now? Do you think I’ll pity you like this?” “I don’t need your pity. We’re over.” I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. Seeing my signature, Victoria’s eyes immediately darkened. Andy’s eyes held an unconcealed ecstasy as he looked down at me with disdain, as if I were a stray dog. A few minutes later, exactly one billion dollars appeared in my account. I looked at the auctioneer on the platform. “Continue the auction.” Andy put his arm around Victoria, sighing. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault…” “It’s not your fault.” Victoria didn’t comfort him as she usually would; her eyes were fixed on me. “I want to see what Julian Blackwood will use to buy the remaining videos, now that he’s left me.” The 101st video appeared on the big screen. “Lot number 101: the group video… starting bid: two million dollars!” The entire room erupted in an unprecedented frenzy. The mocking laughter from the women around me grew even louder. “The Blackwood family is a family of intellectuals, yet the Blackwood heir is playing such wild games! If old Mr. Blackwood knew, he’d probably crawl out of his coffin!” “Mr. Blackwood, if your needs are so great, just contact me!” “Five million!” “Ten million!” “I bid twenty million!” Listening to the escalating bids from everyone eagerly competing, the price soared higher and higher. The auctioneer smiled subtly at me. “Mr. Blackwood, do you wish to continue with your ‘All-In’ bid?” Victoria looked down from above, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She seemed certain that I had no more money to continue, and would definitely return to her for help. “Julian Blackwood, my terms haven’t changed…” “No need.” I rejected her expressionlessly, calmly looking at the auctioneer. “Highest bidder wins. I withdraw from all remaining bids.” The entire room erupted in a commotion. Victoria instinctively frowned. The auctioneer, somewhat surprised, reminded me, “Mr. Blackwood, if you choose to withdraw from the bidding, we will remove the pixelation from the videos.” “Remove it.” My voice remained calm. The crowd became utterly ecstatic, everyone growing excited. “Quick! Remove the pixels! I can’t wait to see the Blackwood heir’s expression!” A countdown appeared on the screen. Three! Two! Everyone’s eyes were glued to the large screen, wanting to see the expression on that shameless man in the video. Andy Wick reminded me, with malicious intent, “Once the pixels are gone, the Blackwood family’s reputation will be completely ruined.” Victoria’s face turned utterly cold, her eyes filled with nothing but disgust as she looked at me. “He brought it on himself!” One! A flash of white light appeared on the large screen, and then the pixelation on the video completely vanished. Everyone stared at the big screen, utterly bewildered. Victoria’s pupils constricted sharply. “How is this possible? The man in the video… it’s not Julian Blackwood!”

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My husband’s childhood sweetheart was back. Cassidy White. And she was the definition of a bro-girl – all smiles and ‘just one of the guys,’ while her eyes were always on my Ethan and his friends. One day, it was poker night. The next, an all-night drinking session. And always, always, she’d extend her completely boundless ‘friendship’ to Ethan and his buddies. I’d endured it, bitten my tongue, and swallowed my anger, time and again. Until tonight. She swayed, ostensibly ‘tipsy,’ and leaned into Ethan’s embrace, pouting playfully. “Ethan, we practically shared a diaper growing up. After all these years, can’t a brother get a hug?” I watched Ethan’s face flush, an embarrassed, almost shy expression blooming there. That was it. I raised my hand and mentally activated the Allure System, dormant for seven long years. I hadn’t anticipated that restarting the system would take time. And as Cassidy’s actions grew even more brazen, five-year-old Leo, my son, stepped forward. “Mom,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Let me handle this.” “I’ve read the original story.” 1. Cassidy was draped against Ethan, laughing. She sensed my cold stare and playfully punched Ethan’s arm. “Oh, Elara, don’t mind me. Ethan and I are like brothers. We grew up together, and I’ve seen him completely exposed. You can just pretend I’m one of the guys.” Ethan reacted even faster than I did. “Cassidy, what are you saying? Elara, please don’t misunderstand, that was just when we were kids. I never let her see anything.” He said the words, but his arm remained wrapped around her. Cassidy, emboldened, pressed her advantage. “You forgot? In college, when you got drunk, I took you home. I didn’t just see you, I even touched!” She slapped her own mouth, feigning a clumsy slip. “Oops, my bad! Elara, don’t take it the wrong way, okay? I’m practically a guy. It’s normal for bros to see each other.” As she prepared to continue, Ethan quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. The movement pulled them even closer, making me feel like an utter stranger in my own home. I swallowed my anger, again and again, but finally, I couldn’t hold it in. I whispered to myself. [System.] [Are you there?] The system responded: [Online.] I gave it a direct command. [Reboot.] After seven long years, I never imagined I’d reactivate the system. But it seemed the seven-year itch was real, even for a woman like me. Could I really not hold a man’s heart? I scoffed, waiting for the reboot to complete. Yet, the progress bar showed a meager [1%]. It would take time. In the interim, I’d have to take matters into my own hands and put this bro-girl in her place. Cassidy, still leaning against Ethan, sensed my rising irritation. She shifted, angling her body even more precariously, as if about to tumble. Just then, my five-year-old son, Leo, who had been standing quietly behind me, walked forward. He placed his small hand on my knee. “Mom,” he whispered, his voice low enough only for me to hear. “Let me handle this.” Leo glanced back at me, mouthing silently, “I’ve read the original story.” Before I could react, he spread his small hand wide and suddenly shrieked, “Aaaah! A cockroach!” A brownish object flew towards Cassidy. Though she claimed to be ‘one of the guys,’ she was clearly terrified of insects. She yelped, dodging frantically, but her precarious posture sent her tumbling to the floor. The brownish object landed squarely beneath her, pinned. Cassidy felt a sticky sensation, a look of revulsion twisting her face. She screamed, “Ethan, control your kid! Why is he playing with cockroaches? He made me scrape my knee!” She reached for Ethan’s arm. “Get me up right now! Take me to the hospital, and you’re footing the bill!” Ethan reacted quickly, turning to scold Leo. But I stepped in front of my son, shielding him. “Only I get to scold my son.” Ethan faltered, but Cassidy wasn’t having it. “Elara, I understand you love your child, but you can’t spoil him too much. He made me bleed! He needs a good talking-to, maybe a smack or two!” Ethan chimed in, “She’s right, Elara. Leo is being too wild.” I scoffed, ready to retort. But Leo, quick as a flash, darted to Cassidy’s side. Before she could regain her composure, he deftly lifted her long white dress. The dress flipped up, covering Cassidy’s face and exposing her bare legs. Leo pointed at her thigh. “It’s a lie! She’s not even hurt!” Then, he turned to Ethan. “Dad, Mom hates it when you touch dirty, inappropriate women.” 2. Childhood innocence. Ethan’s face turned scarlet. Under Cassidy’s gaze, he steeled himself, raised a hand, and slapped Leo. “Don’t be ridiculous!” I couldn’t react fast enough. My small son stumbled and fell. “What are you doing?!” I shoved Ethan, rushing to shield Leo. Ethan, however, turned his face away, saying nothing. Cassidy, seizing the opportunity, interjected, “Elara, don’t blame Ethan. Kids don’t understand, but there’s a limit. I think you need to discipline him properly.” Ethan echoed her. “Elara, Leo needs to know what he can and cannot say. Anyway, I’ll take Cassidy to the hospital first. You go teach him a lesson.” With that, Ethan, unwilling to confront me, hurried out, pulling Cassidy with him. In moments, the vast living room held only Leo and me. I immediately checked Leo’s injuries. Ethan hadn’t held back; half of Leo’s small face was already swollen. “It’s all Mom’s fault.” Guilt instantly washed over me. I resented myself for not activating the system the first time Cassidy showed up. Then, who would dare touch me? But Leo shook his head. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, whispering in my ear, “Mom, remember what I said? I know the original story.” “I did it on purpose. Otherwise, Dad would have hit you.” – On the way to the hospital, Leo meticulously recounted the original story to me. In short, it was a tale of how Cassidy, after having her fun abroad, returned home to seduce four male classmates from college, ultimately causing their families to be ruined. And Leo was determined to save me because, among the four, Cassidy loved Ethan the most, and at the story’s end, she forced me to jump into a river and commit suicide. “Mom, I love you, and I love Dad. So I don’t want either of you to get hurt.” My little son hugged me, insisting he would drive Cassidy away and protect our family. I silently stroked his head, resolving to have a serious talk with Ethan that night. But I waited until midnight, and Ethan never came home. Instead, I scrolled past Cassidy’s new post on social media. Cassidy White: A true brother feeds you your favorite grilled skewers when you’re sick. Attached was a photo: her leaning against Ethan, a sweet smile on her face. I ‘liked’ the post. Soon after, she posted another. Cassidy White: As a reward, giving my good brother a little treat. The image showed her guiding Ethan’s hand to her chest, her smile overtly provocative. Without a doubt, it was meant for me. I hadn’t realized Ethan had become so… tainted. Just then, Leo stirred. I quickly covered his eyes with one hand. “Time for bed.” [System activation progress: 35%] – Ethan didn’t come home until the next morning, a vivid hickey visible on his neck. I had waited on the sofa all night. As he walked in, I went straight to the point. “What’s on your neck?” Without Cassidy present, Ethan reverted to his ‘good husband’ persona. He instinctively covered the mark. “A mosquito bite.” “That must have been one hell of a mosquito!” Ethan gave a sheepish smile and quickly knelt in front of me, his voice soft. “Elara, don’t be mad. Look what I brought you. I specially ran to the Southern District for your favorite small cake. Cheer up. Leo really was out of line yesterday.” “My son did nothing wrong!” Ethan’s face hardened, about to argue, but I grabbed his ear, telling him to go shower. A shower wasn’t enough. I demanded he scrub himself ten times over with body wash. While he was gone, I followed Leo’s earlier instruction and went through Ethan’s phone. And sure enough, there was a newly created group chat named “Queen Cassidy’s Harem.” I clicked into it. The group owner had just sent the first message. Queen Cassidy: @everyone. As a patient, I’m going to the hot springs resort tomorrow! You guys are coming with me. No refusing a patient’s request. Below, Ethan’s friends had all replied. Only Ethan hadn’t. Seeing this, I opened my camera, exposing my alluring slip dress, and snuggled into the blankets. I snapped a photo and sent it to the group. Ethan: My apologies. I need to spend time with my wife. You all have fun. Immediately, several messages exploded. In the dead of night, Ethan’s friends rapidly spammed the chat. “Ethan, enjoying yourself there.” “Elara, as beautiful as ever.” “Family men are just different.” Their words were already blunt, but I hadn’t anticipated Cassidy’s brazenness. Queen Cassidy: Ethan, got a wife and forgot your bros, huh? And what your wife can give you, I can give you too. Or have seven years passed, and you’ve forgotten my taste? With that, Cassidy sent a photo of herself, barely clothed, to the group. Queen Cassidy: Look at you, acting like you’ve never seen anything before. Ethan forgot, have you all forgotten too? Looks like we need to have a proper reunion. At her words, the men in the group clamored in agreement, seemingly eager to throw themselves at Cassidy. I felt a wave of nausea. Just then, Cassidy texted me privately. Cassidy White: Elara, even if you don’t want him, you should ask Ethan if he wants me. I clenched my phone and blocked her. [System activation progress: 65%] 3. But I hadn’t expected Ethan to be even angrier than Cassidy. He slammed his phone down, shattering it. Shards flew, grazing my face. Blood welled, but he didn’t even look. He roared, “Elara Vance, who told you to touch my phone?” He looked ready to strike. Leo immediately darted in front of me, his small body shielding mine. “Dad, don’t blame Mom.” I covered Leo’s mouth, my voice dripping with cold sarcasm. “Ethan, you’re not even pretending anymore, are you?” For a shamelessly flirtatious childhood sweetheart, he was willing to throw away our seven years of marriage and our son. Ethan sneered. “I’ll ask one more time: who told you to touch my phone?” “I’ll touch whatever I want!” For seven years, Ethan had never hidden anything from me, allowing me to check his phone whenever I pleased. Now, he had secrets. I gritted my teeth. Before Ethan could say another word, I told him to get out. He turned and left. Just then, the villa’s front door opened. Cassidy and Ethan’s three friends, who should have been at the hot springs resort, suddenly appeared. Cassidy was wearing a revealing swimsuit. Sensing the tension in the living room, she feigned charm and dramatically lunged into Ethan’s arms. “My dear brother, had a fight?” She asked, feigning ignorance, her hands and legs wrapping around Ethan, rubbing against him provocatively. My blood boiled. I covered Leo’s eyes with one hand, ready to unleash a torrent of curses. But Cassidy was quicker. “Elara, I told you to ask Ethan’s opinion first. After all, it’s a brothers’ get-together, women shouldn’t interfere. See? You’ve made my brother unhappy.” Her words struck a nerve with Ethan. He gripped her hips, kneading them. “Cassidy, what are you doing here?” His tone was completely different from the one he’d used to scold me moments ago. Cassidy’s face lit up with triumph. “I was afraid you’d only refused me out of politeness, so I changed the plan. We’re going to learn how to swim in your big pool at home.” “Aren’t you touched? Aren’t you going to thank your good friend?” At her words, Ethan’s three friends stepped forward, their voices filled with competitive jealousy. “Cassidy, come swim at my place too.” “Yeah, Cassidy, give me a hug too.” Hearing this, Ethan clutched Cassidy tighter, his possessiveness on full display. He announced, “I’m teaching Cassidy how to swim,” and strode out, his three friends trailing close behind. The living room was suddenly silent, save for the shattered phone, me, and my son in my arms. Leo, I realized, was crying. He sadly climbed onto the sofa, wiping the blood from my cheek, sobbing as he said, “Mom, it wasn’t like this in the original story.” I held him tight, silently checking the system’s progress. [System activation progress: 85%]

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