Category: English

1 When I woke, finding myself a widow once more, back in the gritty heart of the 1970s, I didn’t hesitate. This time, when my brother-in-law, Arthur, proposed stepping into my late husband’s shoes and caring for us both, I accepted. In my previous life, my husband, Liam, had slipped and fallen into the reservoir, drowning, leaving me and our child to face the world alone. Arthur, out of genuine concern for my struggles, had made the same offer then. But no matter how kind Arthur was, he would forever be a stepfather to my son. I’d rejected his generosity, choosing instead to raise my child single-handedly, enduring untold hardships. Eighteen years later, through my tireless efforts, my son, Daniel, had earned a coveted spot at a prestigious National University. Yet, on the very day of his acceptance celebration, my long-“deceased” husband, Liam, appeared before me, arm-in-arm with his childhood sweetheart, Mia. “Daniel is my son, with Mia,” Liam had declared, his voice chillingly calm. “Now that he’s a university student, it’s time for him to come home, to be reunited with his real family.” He’d then turned to me, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “Thank you for your arduous eighteen years. Now, you can just disappear!” Only then did the horrifying truth dawn on me: I had, all this time, been raising their child. For nothing. My eyes snapped open. I was back. Back to the day Arthur made his proposal. 2 Accepting Arthur’s offer to step into Liam’s role finally brought a strange sense of relief, a definitive confirmation that I had, indeed, been reborn. My gaze swept across the funeral white sheets still draped in the courtyard, the solemn memorial shrine dedicated to Liam standing in the center of the living room. A tidal wave of hatred threatened to overwhelm me, a visceral urge to smash the entire setup, to shatter the very pretense of grief. But I forced myself to hold back. Everyone believed Liam had died a hero’s death for me, a sacrificial act. To desecrate his memorial now would only invite vicious slander, a public shaming that would brand me an ungrateful monster. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Hayes, already seethed with resentment for me, a bitterness born from Liam’s death. If not for the child I still had to raise, she probably would have drowned me herself, sending me to join her “good son.” In my previous life, Liam had gone to the reservoir late at night, hoping to catch fish to help my milk come in for our newborn. He’d slipped, falling into the depths. His body was never recovered, only a few of his belongings found by a park ranger on the shore. I’d been consumed by grief, convinced I was responsible for his death. That guilt had driven me to refuse Arthur’s proposal, insisting on raising young Leo alone. Fortunately, Leo had been a smart, driven boy. Through my endless sacrifices, he’d gained admission to a prestigious National University. Just as I was beginning to feel a glimmer of satisfaction, believing I could finally face my “deceased husband” with honor, Liam, the man whose grave I was sure was overgrown with weeds, appeared. Eighteen years after his supposed death, he stood there, alive, well, and wearing a crisp suit, a perfectly groomed woman by his side. My eyes immediately recognized her: Mia, Liam’s childhood sweetheart, the very woman who had taken my spot to return to the city. “Wife, Leo is my son, with Mia. Now that he’s a university student, it’s time for him to come home, to be reunited with his real family.” “Thank you for your arduous eighteen years of childcare,” he’d sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “Now, you can just disappear!” It was then I learned the monstrous truth: Liam had swapped our children on the very day I gave birth. My own flesh and blood, my true son, had been abandoned in the wilderness, left to the mercy of predators, a tragic, innocent victim. The child I had nurtured with my own blood and tears was another man’s progeny! Years of backbreaking rural labor had already taken their toll on my body, leaving me frail and worn. Learning this unimaginable betrayal, this soul-crushing lie, I was consumed by a furious grief that stole my very breath. I literally died from the shock and rage. But now, I was reborn. And I would never again be a stepping stone for someone else’s twisted agenda! 3 Eighteen years. The span of time was more fleeting than I’d imagined. Yet, throughout those long years, a stubborn anger had simmered within me. For that anger, that deep-seated resentment, I had worked harder to raise my son than I ever did in my previous life. The villagers secretly scoffed at me, whispering about my foolishness. They said no prodigy could emerge from our secluded hollow, urged me to abandon my daydreams and send my child to work in a factory. But I refused to believe them. If I could get Leo into a National University in my last life, with the added advantage of foreknowledge, how could I not do even better this time? Heaven truly rewards the diligent. Bolstered by the memories of two lifetimes, this time, my son not only earned a spot at a National University but achieved the highest score on the national academic exam, outscoring the second-place candidate by a full twenty points! Journalists flocked from every corner of the country, eager to interview the rural woman who had somehow nurtured a national academic champion in our humble, backwoods village. Even the Governor of the state, upon hearing the news, announced plans to publicly honor my son—he was not only the first student from our state to enter the National University but also the state’s first-ever national academic champion. I immediately decided to host the acceptance celebration at the finest banquet hall in the city, making sure the news of my son’s achievement was widely publicized. When the villagers heard, their usual taunts of me being “a woman who had taken on two husbands” vanished, replaced by fervent chatter: “Grace Chen, she’s truly an educated woman from the city! To raise a national academic champion like that…” “If Liam knew his son got into the National University, he could finally rest in peace.” I watched their fickle faces with a cold, detached amusement. How ridiculous. On the day of the celebration, I rose early. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Hayes, flushed with pride from the crowd’s fawning praise, sat beaming at the head table. Next to her, to my disbelief, sat Mia’s mother, Mrs. Miller. Before I could even open my mouth to question why they were at the head of my celebration, Mrs. Miller spoke, her voice sharp with disdain. “Grace Chen, how are you hosting guests? Can’t you see our glasses are empty?” Her face was a mask of condescension, her eyes filled with contempt. My son, Daniel, started to stand to pour water, but Mrs. Miller pressed him back down, a fawning smile spreading across her face. “Oh, no, sweet grandchild, don’t move! You’re a university student now! You shouldn’t be doing such things!” Then, she turned her angry gaze on me. “What are you gaping at? Get moving! Pour the water! How dare you make Daniel’s hands—hands destined for greatness—do such menial work?” It was Mrs. Hayes, my mother-in-law, who, sensing the escalating tension, finally stood and poured water for everyone, which finally placated Mrs. Miller. She seemed to quiet down, but later, while Daniel was being interviewed, she deliberately snuck up beside him. As Daniel earnestly answered the reporter’s questions, she gave him a loud, smacking kiss that left a bright red mark on his cheek. Her action brought the entire hall to a stunned silence. Daniel looked mortified, furiously wiping at the mark. Then, she pulled Daniel behind her, brazenly presenting herself as his grandmother, rambling confidently to the reporters, much to my mother-in-law’s seething frustration. People from every corner of the county had come to the celebration today. Even the Governor’s staff and various journalists were present. After rounds of greeting guests, I was utterly exhausted. The moment my backside touched the chair, I heard Mrs. Miller’s cold scoff. “Grace, it’s just hosting guests, isn’t it? Do you really need to put on such an act?” When she saw Daniel begin to knead my shoulders, her eyes widened, and she practically leaped to her feet. “Grace Chen, how shameless can you be?! Don’t you understand the concept of a grown son keeping a proper distance from his mother?! Daniel is destined for great things! How dare you let him massage your shoulders and back?!” “She’s my mother! It’s my filial duty to care for her, and it’s certainly not your place, as an outsider, to dictate my actions!” Daniel’s voice, sharp and clear, cut through her tirade. At his words, Mrs. Miller’s face twisted into a pained expression, her eyes reddening. Seeing Daniel fussing over me, showing no concern for her, she could only discreetly spit at me under her breath, then fix her gaze, expectantly, on the main entrance. At the host’s invitation, I stepped onto the stage to give my speech. Just as I took the microphone, ready to speak, the grand doors of the hall swung open. A familiar voice instantly resonated through the room— “How could I, his father, miss my son’s celebration for getting into the National University?” As the words hung in the air, a man and a woman, dressed in matching colors, walked in. My gaze met his, and I saw him: Liam Hayes, my husband, “dead” for eighteen years, standing there, alive, beside his childhood sweetheart, Mia. From the corner of my eye, I caught Mrs. Miller’s smug, triumphant expression. The moment everyone recognized them, the hall erupted in a cacophony of whispers and gasps. These were our neighbors; they all knew Liam had died eighteen years ago. My mother-in-law, seated at the table, gasped, her eyes instantly welling with tears. She was so overcome, she knocked over and shattered a glass. She slowly, cautiously, approached Liam, her trembling hand reaching out to caress his face. “Liam? Is it really you, my Liam?” Eighteen years apart from his mother. Liam’s eyes welled, tears streaming down his face. “Mom, it’s me, Liam. Your unfilial son…” My mother-in-law, though initially overjoyed to see her son returned from the dead, quickly regained her composure. Liam had her sit down, then, with an arrogant swagger, led Mia by the hand directly to me. “Grace Chen, I never thought you had it in you, getting my son into the National University.” His eyes glittered with a possessive pride. “But Daniel is my son, with Mia. We’ve been separated, a family of three, for so long. It’s time for us to be reunited.” Mia’s eyes also reddened, and she reached for Daniel’s hand. “Daniel, I’m your mother. Do you remember? I even visited you at school before.” She then turned her head, a smug satisfaction in her gaze. “And thank you, Grace, for raising our Daniel so well!” Daniel looked at me, a desperate plea in his eyes, as if asking if any of this could possibly be true. Liam, meanwhile, lovingly wiped away Mia’s tears. “There, there, it’s a joyful day! No need to cry!” Then he turned to me, his gaze dripping with mockery. “Now that Mia and I are back, it’s time for you to pack up and leave!” Everyone in the hall stared, their eyes wide, looking at Liam as if he were insane. Even Mrs. Hayes, who had been silent, suddenly jumped up and slapped Liam hard across the face. The resounding smack echoed through the room. Liam looked at his mother, the woman who had always doted on him, in utter disbelief. But Mrs. Hayes didn’t waste time explaining. Her face etched with pleading, she grabbed my hand. “Grace, dear, don’t mind Liam! He’s just talking nonsense! Don’t you dare listen to him!” “Mom! What are you saying?!” Liam shoved his mother away, then violently pushed me, sending me stumbling. Just as I was about to fall, a strong pair of arms encircled my waist, steadying me. Liam’s eyes widened in shock as he saw the man in a military uniform. “Arthur! What are you doing here—” The reporters in the room, seeing Arthur Hayes, swarmed him like bees to honey. Everyone knew Arthur. He had risen from a simple soldier to a decorated Regional Commander, earning immense honor. Arthur was notoriously elusive, rarely seen in public. An interview with him would be an exclusive, a goldmine. Arthur paid no mind to the clamoring reporters. His gaze, ice-cold, fixed solely on Liam. Liam met his brother’s frigid stare and felt a shiver run down his spine. He still couldn’t quite accept that his little brother, who used to trail behind him, was now a high-ranking Commander. Come to think of it, he had only returned with Mia because Daniel had topped the national exams, and Arthur had become a Commander. Things were different now; their family wasn’t impoverished anymore. With this thought, Liam put on a cordial smile and approached Arthur, patting his shoulder. “Arthur, to be honest, Daniel is my son with Mia. Back then, Mia and I were deeply in love, but Grace interfered. I had no choice but to switch Mia’s baby with Grace’s baby on the day they both gave birth.” “Mia and I suffered immensely all these years living outside the village. But now Daniel has grown up and entered the National University, so I don’t want to keep secrets anymore—” “Arthur, this Grace is a cunning, deceitful woman! Quickly, help me throw her out!” Liam finished, his face beaming with a triumphant smirk, fully expecting Arthur to expel me. But Arthur didn’t move an inch. I met Liam’s smug gaze. “By what right do you order Arthur to throw me out? Who do you think you are?!” “Because I’m Daniel’s biological father! And Arthur’s older brother!” I suppressed a cold laugh. This fool still didn’t know the truth. He thought he’d cleverly swapped the babies when Mia and I gave birth simultaneously. But knowing that Daniel wasn’t my biological child, how could I have possibly nurtured him all the way to a National University? No, it was my own blood, my real son. Still, it wasn’t too late to reveal the truth now. I truly looked forward to seeing the expression on his face when he found out. With that thought, I opened my mouth. “Liam, Daniel is actually…”

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1 On my first day back in the States, I walked straight into a scene I’d dreaded for years: my estranged sister, Lily, being publicly humiliated. Smack! A sharp, stinging slap landed squarely on Lily’s face, the sound echoing, drawing every eye in the crowded college quad. “Lily, I considered you a sister, how could you be so cruel? You take everything from me, even my boyfriend?!” The girl shrieked, her voice morphing into a simpering whine after delivering the blow. “Huh, I always thought Lily seemed hard to get along with, but a home-wrecker? Didn’t see that coming.” Whispers rippled through the onlookers. … My first day back in the country, my immediate thought was to visit my sister at her university. I also planned to scout the campus, considering a potential investment. I never imagined I’d arrive to such a spectacle. Lily was trapped, encircled by a hostile crowd, her face a mask of weary helplessness. I recognized the ringleader: Chad Worthington, her boyfriend. Next to him, a girl clung to his arm, looking utterly helpless and demure. “Lily Ellis, you’ve gone too far! We tolerate you bullying Lily, but now you’re accusing her of ruining your watch? What kind of cheap watch is worth five million dollars, anyway?!” Chad lectured my sister, his voice dripping with self-righteous indignation. “Oh, Chad, she copied my senior thesis! It almost kept me from graduating, but thankfully, Principal Evans saw through her plagiarism.” The girl, Lily, simpered, batting her eyelashes. “Lily, that’s a lie! You copied my senior thesis!” Lily’s voice was barely a whisper, weak and trembling. Lily. Her name jolted my memory. That was Lily, the daughter my stepmom brought into our lives. Lily was my full sister, born of the same parents. Not long after our mother passed, Dad brought home my stepmom, along with a little girl Lily’s age. Looking back, Dad must have already been having an affair while Mom was still pregnant with Lily. Later, under my stepmom’s relentless manipulation, Dad sent me away. She’d claimed our horoscopes clashed, that I’d jinx the family business, even curse Dad’s luck. He’d believed her, banished me abroad, leaving me to fend for myself. In truth, I never brought him bad luck; our family business had only boomed after I was born. My stepmom’s real fear was that Dad, always favoring sons, would leave her own daughter with nothing. “Lily Ellis, if I copied your work, why was it your graduation status that was revoked? If you get on your knees and apologize to me, I’ll let it go.” Lily’s arrogant tone snapped me from my thoughts. “Ben,” I said to my assistant, “get Principal Evans here. Now.” “Right away, sir,” Ben replied, nodding. “Lily Ellis, that broken watch of yours was already garbage, and now you’re trying to frame me, demanding five million dollars? Are you out of your mind? I’d say you’re worth more than that watch. If you want money, why don’t you just sell yourself?” Lily giggled, a cruel gleam in her eyes. “Lily, do you think this is worth five million dollars? Oh, wait, no. I’d say it’s worth ten million.” Chad pulled out his phone, a few taps, and then, a series of revealing photos flashed before everyone’s eyes. “Wow, Lily Ellis, who would’ve thought she’d take pictures like that? She always seemed so innocent, but look at her, playing dirty.” “Man, if I could spend just one night with her, I’d die a happy man!” The students surrounding them jabbered, their voices growing louder. “Ben, find out the truth about those photos.” I couldn’t believe my sister would do something like that. I had to know. “Now,” I added, my voice tight. “Yes, sir, immediately.” More and more people gathered, their faces alight with morbid curiosity. “Lily, how about a little game? For every minute you delay paying Lily, I’ll post one of your photos in the campus group chat.” Chad’s grin was sickeningly lecherous. “Yeah! Post ’em! Post ’em fast!” “Go, Chad!” “Wait, isn’t Chad Lily’s boyfriend? Why would he share his own girlfriend’s private pictures?” Finally, someone asked the obvious question. “Boyfriend? Please. Chad and Lily are the real couple. Lily was just a plaything.” 2 “You’re right, why else would he treat Lily like this?” The students babbled, a cacophony of judgment, and then, in the very next minute, a photo was indeed posted to the campus group chat. The group chat exploded, the comments even more vile and disgusting than the whispers. “Chad Worthington, you are absolutely despicable!” “Lily Ellis, all you have to do is kneel and apologize to Lily, plus pay ten million in compensation, and I’ll delete all these photos.” “Apologize? You wish! I have proof that Lily plagiarized my work. Who apologizes to whom is far from decided!” Lily seemed to remember something, a flicker of defiance returning to her eyes. “Proof? Haha! If you had proof, you wouldn’t have been expelled, would you? Stop putting on a show!” Lily laughed, her head tilted condescendingly. “Exactly! If you have proof, show it!” A student, eager for more drama, chimed in. “Forget the plagiarism for a second, Lily. Let’s talk about you damaging my watch.” Only then did Lily pull out a watch. I recognized it; it was a gift I’d given her years ago. “Lily Ellis, you’re just trying to extort me, aren’t you? A broken watch, you say it’s worth five million? Who knows what garbage dump you found it in?” Lily rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. “Lily, why are you being so aggressive? Lily is your sister, after all. Are you trying to destroy her?” Chad said, feigning concern. “Chad Worthington, I can’t believe I ever fell for a wretch like you!” Lily’s voice trembled with fury. “Lily, I always side with justice, not people. If you’re in the right, I’ll definitely help you,” Chad said, posting more photos to the group chat. “Chad Worthington! Stop! Please, for the sake of our childhood, don’t post anymore!” Lily’s composure crumbled as she saw the new photos. “Besides the photos, I have videos too. Does anyone want to see them?” Chad asked the crowd, his voice laced with menace. “YES!” The crowd answered in unison, a hungry roar. “Sir, the photos are real. No Photoshop traces,” Ben reported, having finished his quick investigation. “How could Lily have taken photos like that?” I asked, my gut churning. “It’s Chad Worthington. He’s manipulated more than just Lily. There are so many other girls he’s tricked. He’s a total scumbag.” Ben’s voice was laced with disgust. “Principal Evans? How long until he gets here?” I pressed Ben. “He’s on his way.” “Tell him if he’s not here in ten minutes, I’ll tear this school down.” “I’ll hurry him up.” At that moment, the onlookers buzzed with anticipation for Chad’s promised videos, and Lily looked even more helpless. “Lily, I told you, I can let the senior thesis issue go. But you damaged my watch, and you’ll pay for it. My brother gave me that watch.” As soon as Lily’s words left her lips, Lily burst out laughing. “Haha! Your brother gave it to you? You’re such a liar, you can’t even blink when you say it! Dad forbade you from contacting your brother, so how could he give you a gift? Have you secretly been in touch with that unlucky brother of yours?” Chad sneered. “Even if your brother did give it to you, how would he have the money to buy you a watch like that?” Lily challenged. “That’s none of your business! Either fix my watch or pay up!” “That broken antique of yours? How am I supposed to fix it? You’re clearly just trying to extort me!” Lily whined, affecting a pitiful expression. “Move it, everyone! What’s all this commotion about?” A greasy, portly man pushed through the crowd, squeezing his way to the front. 3 “Dean Miller, you’re just in time! Quickly, while everyone’s here, tell them about the senior thesis plagiarism! Let everyone know how Lily Ellis copied my work!” Lily said to the man. “Ahem… well, about that!” Dean Miller hemmed and hawed, clearly reluctant to speak. “Oh, Dean! Just say it! After all…” Lily leaned in, whispering something into his ear that no one else could hear. “Yes, Lily is correct. Lily Ellis did plagiarize Lily’s senior thesis. The school has investigated thoroughly, and a formal announcement will be made on Monday,” Dean Miller declared, his voice suddenly authoritative. “Wow! So it’s true!” A murmur of shock rippled through the students. “No, I didn’t! Dean Miller, you’re mistaken!” “Lily Ellis, didn’t you say you had proof? Just show it!” A student reminded her. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. If she had proof, would the school have ruled against her like this?” “Lily Ellis, I told you, if you get on your knees and apologize to me, I’ll forgive you! If you don’t, you can forget about ever making it in this industry!” Lily tossed her head back at a forty-five-degree angle, her voice dripping with malice. “Forget it, Lily. I think these photos are worth more than any apology. Now, I wouldn’t trade them for ten million dollars. I’m raising the price! Let’s get her to sign an agreement to transfer all her assets to you. What do you say?” Chad said, looking at Lily. “Good idea. Get the lawyer here. We’ll sign it now.” “No matter how good the photos and videos are, nothing beats a live show. Let’s strip her clothes off, piece by piece, and give the students a little treat.” Chad leered, his large hands gripping Lily’s collar, tearing savagely. Lily didn’t have time to react; her shirt ripped in two. Lily burst into tears, frantic and exposed. “Why are you crying? Lily Ellis, you always bullied Lily in the dorms, we all know that. You deserve this!” A girl in the crowd, eager for more drama, sneered. “Jenny, what are you talking about?! When did I ever bully her? You guys ganged up on me, pouring water on my bed when I was out, putting something in my face wash that made my face break out for a month! I’m the one who’s always been bullied!” “Lily Ellis, do you have proof? If you do, show it. If not, stop slandering us.” Jenny clearly belonged to Lily’s clique. Lily’s eyes darted around, as if a new thought had struck her. “Lily Ellis, how about this: I’ll make you a bet. If you can provide proof, we’ll call it even. If you can’t, you sign the asset transfer agreement we just discussed.” “Lily, you dream big, don’t you? You want to pull a fast one? I’ll put all my assets on the line, but what about you? Nothing? I’ll only bet if the stakes are equal!” Lily countered. “Lily, bet her! She can’t possibly prove herself, what’s there to be afraid of? Surely your assets are more than hers? Just the outfit you’re wearing is worth infinitely more than anything she owns! We’ll just swallow up all her assets, won’t that be better?” Chad urged. “Fine, Lily Ellis, you asked for this. I’ll bet you! All my assets, plus five percent of Ellis Industries!” Lily declared. “Haha, forget it. You’re not worthy of betting against me!” Lily chuckled, then continued, “I have more shares than you. I have ten percent. All your assets combined probably don’t even make up for that extra five percent, do they?”

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The instant I decided to jump, clarity shattered through me. I was the tragically short-lived “first love” in a redemption story. My suicide would seal the male lead’s heart, transforming him from a bright, hopeful young man into a dark, ruthless mogul. He would only find solace and healing years later, in the warm glow of a new, sun-like heroine. But I knew the truth: I was on this ledge because he had driven me to the brink. 1 “Jump already! What kind of coward just stands there?” “I’m starving, heading to the dining hall. When are you actually going to jump?” “Isn’t this just a fake suicide attempt to get a scholarship for grad school?” Sharp, mocking jeers pierced the air, growing even louder after the police tried to quiet them. I bit back the desperate urge to leap, slowly turning on the rooftop’s edge. The female officer, who had been trying to subtly approach me, immediately froze, her voice soft and soothing as she begged me not to be impulsive. My academic advisor and my roommate pushed Ellias closer. His eyes were a harsh mix of annoyance and blame, a flicker of irritation deep within them. Not a trace of worry. Even his voice was flat, devoid of emotion: “Lila Evans, stop being ridiculous.” The female officer gently patted his back, a hint of prompting in her tone: “Ellias, weren’t you so worried you almost fainted just now?” She smiled tightly. “Go on, talk to your girlfriend. There’s no problem that can’t be solved.” I knew she was improvising, inventing an excuse for his belated arrival, terrified his coldness would push me over the edge. In reality, Ellias had been convinced I wouldn’t actually jump. He’d simply turned off his phone when he got the news. It was Sarah, my roommate – who often called me “love-drunk” – who had rallied all our friends, scrambling across campus to find him casually playing tennis. It had taken all their convincing power to drag him here. Ellias, seeing no reaction from me, impatiently sharpened his tone. “Lila Evans, come here. Everyone’s busy. We don’t have time for your childish games.” His callous demeanor made me doubt the strange flashes of memory in my mind were anything more than a desperate hallucination. How could Ellias ever be heartbroken by my death? He’d likely be relieved to finally shed a burden. Just like my own biological parents. Long-term medication had dulled my thoughts, but as I mused, someone suddenly tackled me. “Good girl. There’s endless possibility in life.” The female officer held me tight, her voice thick with relief. “Look at you, out in the wind for so long, you must be frozen solid. My treat, hot chocolate to warm you up.” From afar, I heard cheers from the onlookers. So many people, I realized, were actually happy I was alive. Seeing that I was no longer resisting, the officer carefully helped me to my feet, guiding me swiftly away from the edge of the rooftop. “See, Ellias? I told you she was just faking it!” 2 I looked up at the girl who spoke. Brooke Thompson. Two years younger than Ellias, his next-door neighbor, who had followed her “Ellias” to our university. She’d always been tactless, but her words now were particularly sharp. Her smile stiffened abruptly under the disapproving stares of the crowd, quickly replaced by indignant fury. “What are you looking at? This isn’t Lila Evans’s first time threatening suicide!” she spat. “She just loves attention. You’re all being fooled!” The female officer’s face darkened. “Young lady, please show some basic respect for life.” Brooke huffed, pouting. “I didn’t say anything wrong.” She wasn’t wrong. This attempt was my thirteenth time trying to end my life. Starvation, overdose, cutting, carbon monoxide poisoning – each time I was rescued, Ellias’s attitude toward me grew a little colder. Yet, he always saved me. I hated inconveniencing anyone; even in my despair, I chose methods I thought wouldn’t bother others too much. If I hadn’t yearned so desperately for Ellias’s attention, I would never have dared to jump in front of a crowd. My body hitting the ground would undoubtedly mean a grueling cleanup for the janitorial staff, and that thought, almost more than the pain, gave me pause. In the original plot, I wouldn’t have waited for Ellias. Amidst the jeers, I would have thrown myself off. Ellias would arrive a moment too late, witnessing my horrific death. This would shatter him, driving him to mental breakdown, consumed by endless regret for not saving me in time. He would unleash his fury on Brooke, the girl who’d held him back playing tennis. He would manipulate her into developing anorexia, until she withered away, barely fifty pounds, before she finally succumbed. Those who’d egged me on to jump would either be expelled or suffer mysterious accidents. No one who’d ever wronged me would be spared. No one would question Ellias’s ruthless revenge. Instead, they would sigh over his deep love for his tragic first love, hailing him as the epitome of devotion. Later, the heroine would patiently counsel him, telling him everyone deserved forgiveness. I merely lost my life, yet Ellias, even after achieving great success, would remain utterly tormented. They’d say he loved me to the core, a love so profound it became legendary. But now, I hadn’t died. All I could do was watch Ellias step in front of Brooke, defending her. “Officer, ‘respect for life’ is a conversation more suited for Lila Evans.” Brooke smirked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Lila, Aunt Carol really doesn’t want to see you waste your precious life, either.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, but it carried. “After all, you were so desperate to live back then that you even pushed your own mother—” “Brooke!” Ellias cut her off, his voice sharp. “We need to go.” “Oops, almost spilled the beans again!” Brooke clapped a hand over her mouth, her smile oozing malice. “My bad. I shouldn’t provoke Lila.” “Miss Evans, don’t get upset!” “Lila Evans!” “Lila!” The words “own mother” echoed like the gaping maw of a beast, swallowing all other sound. I stared at Ellias, my gaze fixed, muttering, “You promised me. You promised me. Why did you break your word?” Ellias’s indifferent expression finally shifted, but not because of my questions. It was for Brooke, who had clutched her chest and collapsed, seemingly in pain. A deafening roar filled my head, like a thousand steel needles stirring within. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was him scooping Brooke into his arms, turning his back, and walking away without a moment’s hesitation. 3 When I opened my eyes again, Sarah was sitting by the bed, grimacing as she played on her phone. “Damn it!” She tossed the phone down, met my surprised gaze, and irritably scratched her head. “What, not happy it’s me sitting here?” She rolled her eyes. “Too bad your precious Ellias is busy playing nursemaid to his ‘sick’ little sister.” Her words were sharp, but beneath them, a familiar closeness, and if I listened carefully, a hint of anxiety. “No… no, not at all. Thank you.” I hadn’t spoken normally with anyone in so long; the more eager I was, the harder it was to express myself. Even my thanks came out haltingly. “Thank you, really, Sarah.” Sarah waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t thank me, thank Officer Miller. If she hadn’t asked me to look after you, I wouldn’t bother with your dramatic, love-struck nonsense.” Her face was grim, her short hair damp with sweat and sticking up in disarray. She was still wearing the same dust-stained clothes from earlier, and there were large, treated scrapes on her knees and arms. Probably from a fall. Guilt surged from deep within me. “I’m so sorry.” Sarah had been the first to reach the rooftop to stop me. She’d called the police, then alerted professors and my advisor. When I’d desperately threatened my life to see Ellias, she’d rallied friends to search for him. She’d poured all her energy into saving a roommate who had once betrayed her. If I hadn’t awakened, all her efforts would have culminated in witnessing my brains splattered on the pavement – a lifelong trauma. Meanwhile, Ellias, who had been too busy playing a sappy game of tennis with Brooke to arrive in time, was somehow seen as the greatest victim. All because after my death, he’d found countless ways to torture himself. Even my biological father, who had abandoned his wife and daughter, was moved by Ellias’s apparent devotion, actively seeking him out to drink and offer solace, commiserating with him like a kindred spirit, urging him to let go and start anew. Only Sarah had pointed a furious finger at Ellias, tearing into him as a “performer,” asking why he didn’t just join me if he was so bent on revenge against Brooke and everyone else. Ellias, unable to stand the mockery, had run off to jump into the river, only to accidentally save an influential figure, gaining a boost in his career. Sarah, however, was accused of inciting suicide, subjected to relentless cyberbullying, and lost her chance to study abroad. Years later, the heroine would even dig her up, draining her of her last bit of worth to aid in the male lead’s healing. No one remembered she was once my only friend. Until Ellias claimed Sarah was trying to seduce him. He presented chat screenshots, photos, and even “witnesses.” I hadn’t dared to ask Sarah, trying to pretend I didn’t know, hoping to remain her friend. When Sarah heard the rumors, she confronted me, asking who I believed. Like many times before, I chose Ellias. She’d been furious, immediately calling the police, forcing Ellias into a confrontation at the station. It turned out the chat logs were faked by someone impersonating her, the photos were ill-timed shots, and the “witnesses” were known for casually spreading baseless sexual rumors. Ellias had promptly apologized to her. But I, overwhelmed by guilt, had been unable to open my mouth. From that day on, Sarah drew a clear line, emphasizing that we were just ordinary roommates, and she would never be friends with a love-struck girl who put a man above all else. I was already awkward and unlikable. After that, beyond necessary communication, only Ellias would talk to me. But he was always busy: student government work, art department events, and countless parties where I wasn’t welcome. Our chat history was filled with my one-sided messages. Even after my suicide attempt and subsequent collapse due to Brooke’s provocation, Ellias only sent a cold, terse command in the brief gaps between attending to her: [Once you’ve calmed down, we need to talk.] 4 A familiar dull ache spread through my chest, yet my thoughts were clearer than they’d ever been. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I typed a reply: [No need. I agree to break up.] Whether those melodramatic plot points were the reality of my future or just hallucinations brought on by too much medication, one thing was certain: Ellias didn’t love me. And I was tired of being a crazy person. “You’re actually blocking your most beloved boyfriend?” Sarah blinked her clear eyes, not even trying to hide her peeking. She looked almost… happy. Gathering my courage, I asked her to come home with me. In the second semester of sophomore year, Ellias had filled out an application for me to live off-campus, citing my unstable mental health. The house was one of the inheritances my mom left me. She had once wanted to drag me with her, to die there together, to make my cheating father regret. After my mom’s death, I used the rent money to pay for high school, letting tenants completely transform the house until no trace of my childhood trauma remained. Now, the house was filled with Ellias’s belongings. His gaming room, his art studio, his bar. The living room displayed his annual birthday gifts for me, only three of them. Last year, I had lost my “reward” for not being obedient. Sarah stood in the doorway. “Alright, pack your stuff and move back to the dorm. I’ll have Chloe and Emily clear out a bed for you.” She added, “Make sure to calculate the rent, don’t let him take advantage.” “This house is mine,” I said, unable to meet Sarah’s “are you crazy?” look. “Sarah, I want Ellias to move his stuff out.” “Wanting it won’t do anything. Make him get his butt over here and move it!” Ellias wasn’t answering calls or texts. Sarah scoffed, then called a moving company to come pack everything up. She even took photos and posted them to her social media: [Helping a friend clear out her ex-boyfriend’s relics.] I stared unblinking at the word “friend” until my eyes stung, then splashed cold water on my face. That’s when I noticed Ellias’s new directive: [Tell Sarah to leave immediately.] [Lila Evans, you’re testing my limits.] [You have one hour to restore everything, or face the consequences!] Sarah snorted. “He really thinks he’s king of the world.” The complex emotions swirling in my heart were dispelled by her words. I calmly typed four words in reply: [This is my home.] 5 Ellias never showed up. He was sure I wouldn’t dare. So I had the moving company deliver a dozen large cardboard boxes to the school gates. I heard Ellias’s face was a sight when he arrived. The campus gossip pages were buzzing, debating if I’d finally come to my senses or completely lost it. My advisor, fearing another breakdown, proactively granted me a month’s medical leave, urging me to rest thoroughly before returning to classes. I needed the time to sift through the ruins of my life anyway. An entire month passed. Ellias never contacted me, and I never sought him out. Brooke, though, posted daily nine-panel grids of her lavish meals and adventures, showcasing how much fun she was having with her “Ellias.” As the furor over my suicide attempt gradually subsided, I invited Sarah to lunch. “Thank you for being there for me for so long. Can I treat you to burgers?” Sarah hesitated for only a second. “Burgers, yes!” After two long years, I was finally sitting down to a meal with a friend again. The cool carbonation of the cola warmed me from the inside out. Ellias only liked Chinese food. Whenever I suggested trying foreign cuisines, he would reprimand me, saying I was brainwashed by consumerism. Yet, the restaurants he took his friends to often cost hundreds of dollars per person. I felt that socializing among students shouldn’t exceed a college student’s budget, but he would impatiently insist it was a “reasonable investment,” unlike my wasteful spending on mere cravings. To “correct” my bad habits, he demanded I hand over my monthly allowance of two thousand dollars for him to manage. Ellias never asked what I liked to eat. He simply arranged my meals according to his idea of a balanced diet. He’d watch me finish the broccoli I hated, demand I drink every drop of the intensely gamey lamb soup from the cafeteria, and, citing my “family history of illness,” would beg others to stop me from drinking bubble tea or sodas. Back when I still had friends, they would jokingly say they envied my “dad-like boyfriend.” The more they said it, the more I believed it, grateful to Ellias for filling the void left by my father. I didn’t even realize the allowance was from my own father. Even if it was a love only expressed through money, it was still cold, hard cash. And Ellias’s “love” for me was merely arranging custom meals from a mild Cantonese restaurant. Sarah stared at me, wide-eyed. “Lila Evans, do you know how many meals you could get at ‘Chen’s Bistro’ with two thousand dollars?” I hadn’t calculated it. Thanks to Ellias’s superficiality, Mr. Chen, the owner, remembered me well as a loyal customer of over two years. He quickly sent me the menu prices and mentioned that the anniversary special could be stacked with a renewal discount. Three hundred dollars a month for a balanced diet of meat and vegetables, plus after-meal fruit – less than a sixth of my allowance. And even though I hadn’t been attending classes, the meals were still being delivered to the school. No wonder one of Brooke’s recent meal photos had looked so familiar. Ellias truly knew how to infuriate me. 6 “He needs to pay up!” Sarah declared, her voice firm. “Ellias has to give you your money back!” With that, she frantically rushed out to call her aunt, who was a lawyer. I thought it wouldn’t be that complicated. I just sent Ellias the itemized breakdown: [Ellias Reed, please return my remaining allowance, totaling $32,510.00.]

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1 The day I entered the palace, my dowry—a hundred chests—was displayed at the gates. Strange words flashed before my eyes: [Run! That’s Consort Clara—skinned alive by Emperor Cyrus and fed to his python!] [The emperor hates curvy women! Her parents sent her to die for their adopted daughter!] [Switch places with the adopted girl now!] In my past life, I believed those words and refused to enter the palace. My parents sent their adopted daughter in my place, with my dowry. I married the poor scholar she rejected—his cruel mother, sharp-tongued sister, and five stepchildren broke me. When I fled home, my adopted sister whipped me out: “A wife’s duty is to serve her husband! Running back shames all women!” My parents, who once adored me, coldly sent me back: “You belong to his family now. Live or die there.” I starved, froze, and died in my third winter. Only then did I learn the floating words were her trickery. Now, my adopted sister Theodora clutched my sleeve, greed dripping from her eyes. The words swirled madly. I picked up my wedding gown, staring her down: “You want to be Consort?” “You’re not worthy.” The imperial sedan, sent to escort me into the palace, waited outside the gate. Theodora, my cousin-sister, stared at the red wedding gown in my hands, her eyes practically overflowing with jealousy and malice. “Cousin Clara, I hear His Majesty has fangs and a green face, and kills people as casually as chopping vegetables. Your figure, naturally plump as it is, which man would ever favor it? How will you possibly fare in the palace?” Ever since the imperial decree naming me Consort Clara arrived, she had been whispering malicious rumors about the Emperor, off and on. I had always thought she was concerned for me, worried about my well-being, and thus sought out information. Only later did I realize she was clearly coveting my dowry and my position as Consort. I slammed my teacup to the ground, the porcelain shattering. “Insolence! Speaking ill of His Majesty, Cousin, do you wish for our entire family to be punished by imperial decree?” Theodora, startled by my sudden severity, shrank back. Countless floating words instantly erupted before my eyes. [Heroine, don’t be a fool! Only your cousin tells you the truth!] [Exactly! Only your cousin wants to save you, heroine! Quick, tell her to swap places with you! As long as you don’t enter the palace, you’ll be saved!] Theodora’s tears flowed instantly, just as easily as they had in my past life. “I am merely concerned for you, Cousin, fearing you will not fare well.” She cried with such genuine emotion, as if she truly worried for me. If not for the bitter lessons of my past life, I might truly have believed I misunderstood her. I ignored her completely, turning my back and, in front of her, began to put on my wedding gown. “My apologies, Cousin, but with a hundred chests of dowry and the position of Consort, how could I not fare well?” “If I recall correctly, Cousin, you are also marrying today, aren’t you? Why haven’t you changed into your dress yet?” “Unless… you wish to enter the palace with me? As a concubine?” Seeing the maids and matchmakers all looking at her, Theodora’s face turned from green to purple. “Cousin, how could you think such a thing of me?” “If not, then Cousin, please return to your room to get ready. It would be improper to miss the auspicious hour.” Theodora froze, stubbornly unwilling to leave. She wouldn’t give up today without achieving her goal! I waved my hand, and several maids immediately surrounded her. “Young Miss Theodora, allow us to escort you to get ready.” “Young Miss, the groom is waiting impatiently.” The floating words suddenly reappeared, overwhelming me! [No way?! Is the heroine actually going to feed the python?! Oh my god, she’s actually refusing this perfect chance to swap places!] [Though the scholar is poor, he truly dotes on his wife! The heroine will surely not suffer if she marries him.] [Good advice is wasted on the doomed!] I scoffed. Since this was the perfect husband Theodora herself had chosen, let her experience him firsthand. I put on my phoenix crown, and Mother placed the red veil over my face, escorting me out the door. The wedding sedan swayed, and a wave of overwhelming drowsiness suddenly washed over me. Something was wrong! The floating words appeared again. [Just sleep. Everything will be fine when you wake up.] [Don’t struggle! Even a strong man couldn’t withstand this knockout drug! You won’t be able to stay awake.] Theodora had actually drugged me with a knockout potion! I desperately pinched my palms and thighs, but my vision grew increasingly blurry. In a split second, I pulled out the golden hairpin from my hair and stabbed it hard into my thigh! Blood gushed! The pain instantly cleared my head. Peeking through the sedan curtain, I saw it—this was definitely not the way to the palace! I immediately ordered the sedan bearers to stop. “Stop! I am His Majesty’s Consort Clara! Where are you taking me?” A cold scoff came from outside the sedan. “What daydream are you having? This is clearly Scholar Wyatt’s sedan for his new bride.” Theodora swapped my sedan? But how was that possible? Mother herself had helped me into this sedan. No time to think. I immediately slipped off a golden bangle from my wrist and handed it to the sedan bearers. “Turn around, head for the Imperial Palace. These are all yours.” The sedan absolutely could not reach the Wyatt family’s home, or everything would be too late. They took the golden bangle, bit it to test its authenticity, exchanged glances, and then pocketed it. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the next second, he spat at me directly. “Old Man Cloud and Old Lady Cloud already told us their daughter had hysterics. Send you to the palace? Dream on.” Floating words danced before my eyes. [You’ll be at the Wyatt home soon, why are you still resisting? Just be a good wife to Scholar Wyatt.] [Though Scholar Wyatt has five children, all five will become powerful officials in the future, very promising! How can you bear to see them without a mother?] [Accept your fate, accept your fate.] The sedan bearers directly blocked the sedan door. The suffering of my past life flashed before my eyes like a galloping horse. No, I absolutely would not yield. I grabbed the hairpin and stabbed it fiercely into their backs. The sedan bearers screamed and released the sedan poles. I seized the opportunity and bolted out. This place was not far from the capital. If I ran fast enough, perhaps I could still make it. However, the moment I stepped out of the sedan, Scholar Wyatt emerged from nowhere. His teeth yellowed, he grabbed a handful of my hair. “You stinking hag, the Cloud family has already sold you to me. Where do you think you’re going?” [Don’t let his looks deceive you, he’s truly a good man who dotes on his wife.] [Little Sister, you’ve really hit the jackpot by marrying him.] [Quick, go and perform the marriage rites with him.] I kicked him hard in the stomach. “The one marrying you is Theodora White, not me! You’ve been tricked! I am Consort Clara, personally bestowed by the Emperor! Can you bear the consequences of offending a Consort?” He cried out in pain from my kick, and slapped me directly across the face. “You stinking woman! I don’t care what Consort or not Consort you are! The Cloud family sent you here, so you’re my wife now!” “Now hurry up and come home with me for the marriage rites! My clothes are waiting for you to wash!” I was dizzy from his slap, my eyes seeing stars, and I spat out a mouthful of blood. The floating words gloated: [You should have just gone along with the marriage rites, why did you dare to hit your husband? You deserve to be beaten to death, you deserve it.] [Men are heaven, he is your heaven, how can you resist him?] [Once you enter the Wyatt family’s door, be a good wife and mother.] The entrance to the Wyatt family home was just ahead. I stopped, giving up the struggle entirely. Scholar Wyatt, noticing my sudden cessation of resistance, paused in surprise. In that very instant, I pulled out the sachet of scented powder from my bosom and flung it into his eyes. “You wretched woman!” Scholar Wyatt cursed angrily, rubbing his eyes. But his eyes were completely coated in powder. He chased for two steps, then stumbled and fell to the ground. I summoned every ounce of strength, running frantically. I finally caught up to Theodora’s phoenix sedan just before it entered the palace. I threw myself onto the sedan. “I am the real Clara Frost! I am the Consort appointed by the Emperor! The person inside is an impostor!” “An impostor?” The guards looked at me, uncertain. Young Miss Cloud rarely left the residence; they had never seen me before. I frantically searched my body for a token to prove my identity. My cousin-sister, Theodora, tearfully peeked out from the phoenix sedan. “Cousin, you eat my family’s food, live in my family’s house. Your usual jealousy is bad enough, but now you even want to snatch my chance at becoming a Consort?” “It’s not that I’m unwilling to yield, but Cousin, your figure is so plump. If His Majesty sees you, it might even implicate our entire Cloud family.” Passersby gathered, two by two. “Stealing your own cousin’s marriage? That’s utterly shameless.” “With her appearance, she doesn’t even look like a noble lady. And she wants to impersonate Young Miss Cloud to marry into the palace and become a concubine? She must have eaten a leopard’s heart!” “Precisely! Precisely!” I had run so hard, my wedding gown was torn and stained with blood, my hair a complete mess. Meanwhile, Theodora in the sedan wore a phoenix crown and robes, her clothes spotless. To anyone looking, she would appear to be the true Young Miss Cloud. The floating words reappeared to sow discord. [Don’t bother explaining, no one will believe you. If Emperor Cyrus sees you like this, he might even execute your entire clan.] [Your parents were so good to you, do you want to implicate them too?!] [Quick, say you’re jealous of your cousin, say it!] I gritted my teeth, gripping the phoenix sedan with all my might. A guard kicked me in the lower back, pointing his saber at me. Just then, I saw my parents rushing over, and a wave of overwhelming joy washed over me. “Father, Mother, Theodora swapped my sedan! Quick, tell them I’m the real Clara Frost!” No one could prove my identity better than my parents. Father rushed over, but before I could speak, he slapped me. “My own daughter, how could I not recognize her? You dare to come here and cause trouble!” “Our Cloud family fed you, clothed you, and yet you still want to steal my daughter’s marriage?” “The one in the phoenix sedan is my daughter, Clara Frost! Our Cloud family only recognizes this one daughter!” Mother hid behind Father, wiping away tears. “Theodora, please, stop causing trouble. Your husband’s family is waiting for you.” “Just go back and be a good wife and mother.” It turned out my parents had already sided with Theodora. The surrounding commoners began to spit at me. “How can there be such a shameless person in this world?” “She must have gone mad with hysterics.” Outside the crowd, Scholar Wyatt caught up. He grabbed my arm, twisting it, and pulled me up. “Excuse me, everyone, I accidentally let my crazy wife escape.” “Now hurry up and come home with me for the marriage rites!” With that, he dragged me by the arm, pulling me out of the crowd. The crowd automatically parted for him. Was I destined to be unable to change my fate, even in this new life? The floating words flashed by rapidly, one by one, filled with mockery. [I told you already, accept your fate, struggling is useless.] [Even your own parents don’t recognize you. You’ll never be able to turn your life around.] [Being a stepmother to five children, a housemaid for the Wyatt family, that is your final destiny, ha ha ha.] I was powerless to resist, completely trapped by Scholar Wyatt. Tears of helplessness streamed down my face. However, at that moment, a shrill voice suddenly boomed through the air. “Everyone, stop! His Majesty has arrived!” A yellow imperial carriage halted before me. The Emperor, his lips slightly curved, rested his pale, slender hand on the carriage. His dark gold dragon robes billowed in the wind, his knuckles lightly tapping. “How dare you insult My Consort?” Everyone by the roadside knelt in terror.

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1 I’m dying. A lonely soul in life, a wandering ghost in death. I’m a fairly considerate person, so I worry my body might stay in the house too long after I’m gone. Rotting, decomposing, festering, swarming with maggots. It wouldn’t just mess up my own place, which is bad enough, but if it affected the feng shui and property value of the entire apartment complex, or ruined my neighbors’ moods and appetites, that would be truly awful. So, I called my ex-boyfriend, the one I broke up with seven years ago. “When I die, could you do me a favor and take care of my body?” A few minutes of silence stretched between us. “Sure,” he finally said, his voice flat. “Perfect for feeding the dogs.” I hung up the phone, a wave of disappointment washing over me. Online, you can find food delivery, errand runners, even designated drivers, but not a single service for posthumous body disposal. I’m dying. The kind of dying where there’s no cure. After the initial shock, fear, rage, and utter breakdown, I’ve quietly accepted this reality. After all, I have no family, no one to rely on. Dying will just mean being alone in a different place. But my biggest worry is that if I die at home, with no one ever visiting, my body might linger for a long time. Decomposing, putrefying, festering, oozing, crawling with maggots, emitting a truly horrifying stench… Maybe it wouldn’t be discovered until the entire building suffered from a full-blown biohazard attack? By then, it would be too late. I’m quite vain, and I certainly don’t want my body to be an eyesore when it’s finally discovered. And I do have a sense of civic duty. I don’t want my apartment to become a ‘death house,’ affecting my neighbors’ peace of mind and appetites. And I definitely don’t want to drag down the property values in the neighborhood. With the real estate market in a slump, homeowners are already living miserable lives, and I don’t want to pile more misery on them. Of course, I could choose to die in a hospital, smiling my last in a sterile bed. But I despise the smell of disinfectant. So, I absolutely need someone to take care of my body. To turn me into ash as quickly as possible—clean, eco-friendly, and hygienic. After much thought, my ex-boyfriend was the only one I could possibly ask. I unblocked his number and tried calling, silently praying he hadn’t changed it. It connected. I could hear his low breathing on the other end, but neither of us spoke. “Liam… Liam Hayes?” “I… it’s Elara Vance…” I wasn’t sure if he’d deleted my contact information, so I identified myself. Beep! Beep! The call disconnected. It had to be Liam. If it were anyone else, they’d at least say, “Wrong number.” Shamelessly, I redialed. This time, the busy signal rang for a dozen beats before he finally picked up. Fearing he’d hang up again, I rushed out my request, rattling it off as quickly as rattling off a grocery list. “Don’t hang up! I know you hate me! But I’m dying! Can you take care of my body after? Watching me die in front of you would be pretty satisfying, wouldn’t it?” I finished in one breath. This time, he didn’t hang up. After seven long years, his familiar yet estranged voice finally broke the silence. “So, now you’re dying?” he scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, you died in my heart ages ago!” He was mocking me, twisting the knife. But I’m a woman who isn’t even afraid of death anymore, so what did a little sarcasm matter? “Your wish for me to die is a lovely sentiment, but it’s just wishful thinking. This time, though, I really won’t make it past three months. You should cherish this chance to personally send me off. Miss this, and you’ll never buy an experience like it again, no matter how much money you throw at it.” I pleaded, like a seasoned salesperson pitching her wares. “Hahahahaha!” Liam suddenly burst into boisterous laughter. “Elara, you really will go to any lengths to get close to me, won’t you?” His voice dripped with schadenfreude. “Even though you haven’t contacted me in years, I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” “I know your life has gone to hell. Your family went bankrupt, your dad killed himself, your mom ran off, and you even got divorced, abandoned by Julian Thorne. Now you’re all alone, abandoned by everyone, probably looking pretty pathetic, aren’t you?” “I genuinely suspect you’re a jinx! Because everyone who gets close to you ends up miserable! But those who leave you? They thrive!” “Just like me now—successful, accomplished, a true self-made man!” Even over the phone, I could vividly imagine the grimacing, vengeful expression on Liam’s face. “So, are you at your wit’s end, coming to beg me now?” he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. “Trying to play dead and pathetic to gain my sympathy? Do you really think I still have any lingering feelings for a fickle gold-digger like you?” “No! Playing the victim won’t work on me! Because if you really died in front of me, I’d take your corpse and feed it to the dogs!” I thought about it seriously. My corpse being fed to dogs might be a bit gruesome, but it would definitely be better than rotting and stinking, covered in maggots, wouldn’t it? Besides, I quite like dogs. “Could you feed me to a Border Collie? I really don’t like Huskies.” I offered the suggestion earnestly. “You…” Liam was choked by my bluntness. He must have thought I was deliberately provoking him, and he hung up again. I didn’t call a third time. I didn’t want to invite further humiliation. I started searching for funeral homes and crematoriums in the city on my phone, wondering if I could reserve a spot in advance. But Liam was already at my doorstep. He knew my current address. 2 “Thirty years the river flows east, thirty years it flows west. Never underestimate the underdog!” Liam had told me that saying back in college. He loved reading fantasy novels and said that line came from some cheesy fantasy book. He even praised my beauty, saying I was “a ten-out-of-ten bombshell.” Reality is even more fantastical than fiction. It didn’t take thirty years; just seven years were enough for Liam’s life and mine to completely invert. Seven years ago, he was a struggling college student, dependent on student loans to finish his degree. I was a privileged heiress with a hefty fortune. He loved me to death, humble and devoted. But I dumped him, played him, and cast him aside. “Liam, we’re not a good match. We don’t belong in the same world.” “I was just toying with you, but I’m done playing now.” “You didn’t actually think I’d marry you, did you?” “Hahahaha! I couldn’t bring myself to be seen with someone like you!” “Get lost! A pauper like you doesn’t deserve to talk about love!” I watched Liam weep bitterly before me. The fire in his eyes slowly extinguished. I was certain that I had, with my own hands, crushed his innocence and his capacity for love. Seven years later. He was now a successful young entrepreneur. While others his age were still relying on trust funds, he had built his own empire, becoming a self-made millionaire, even making it onto the Forbes list. He exuded maturity, confidence, and sheer dominance. And I was utterly ruined. The halo of my privileged heiress status had shattered, and now I was living in a cramped, old apartment less than 500 square feet. Unemployed, without family, without friends. And, most importantly, I was dying. I was asking him to take care of my body after I was gone. My story with him felt like a cruel, twisted joke from hell. “You don’t look so good, and you seem exhausted,” Liam said, one hand in his pocket, the other leaning casually against the wall. He’d always been handsome, but with money, his aura was even more striking. His Armani suit and Vacheron Constantin watch screamed success. Not like when we first dated, when his faded high school uniform stretched well into his sophomore year. I used to force him to buy new clothes, but he always complained they were too expensive. “Did you get thin because your family went bankrupt and you can’t handle a hard life?” He was laughing at my misfortune again, taking in my cramped home with an amused glance. “The apartment is small, but it’s clean. Though, honestly, I’d rather see someone like you living on the streets.” I looked around the small apartment with a touch of wistfulness. It was just a studio. This was the third home I’d lived in during my twenty-five years. The smallest, the most humble, the shabbiest. It couldn’t compare to the mansion I grew up in, much less Julian’s family estate. Yet, it was where I felt safest, warmest. I’d bought it with every penny of my own savings, earned through hard work. Dying here felt like a quiet contentment. That’s why I particularly didn’t want to leave it dirty or cursed after I was gone. “Thank you for coming.” I opened a drawer and took out the title deeds and a handwritten agreement. “I don’t have much savings left; this apartment is my only asset. After I die, please sell the apartment for me. The money should be enough to buy a burial plot and handle my funeral arrangements. There should be a hundred thousand or so left over after that. Please donate it. I don’t have any family or friends to leave it to, and you wouldn’t care for such a small sum anyway.” I calmly laid out my last wishes, but Liam suddenly erupted in fury! He lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders and shoving me hard against the wall! He leaned in, our faces inches apart, his eyes blazing, his breath hot against my skin. “I don’t know whether to commend your acting or condemn your shamelessness!” he growled, his teeth clenched. “A wicked woman like you won’t die that easily. And even if you did, you would donate money? Haven’t you always taken pleasure in toying with the dignity of the poor?” His facial muscles twitched with a grim, vengeful pleasure. “So, now you’re truly poor! That’s karma!” “I’m almost afraid you will die! Death would be an escape, wouldn’t it? No! You should live and suffer a lifetime of punishment and torment!” His grip hurt me. I tried to explain that I wasn’t acting, that I truly was dying, and I even pulled out my medical records. But he dismissed them as props I’d bought online. Finally, I grew impatient. My life is my own; why should I have to prove to you that I’m dying? I suddenly thought of Old Man Peterson, the kind-hearted recycling collector who often came to our complex. Maybe I should entrust him with this? After I die, he could have all the furniture and items in my apartment, and I’d ask him to take care of me too. “You’re hurting me!” I struggled to break free. “If you don’t want to, then fine. Pretend I never asked. You can go.” But Liam wouldn’t leave. He was like a hunter toying with his prey, a cold glint in his eyes. “Since you love playing games so much, I’ll play along!” he sneered. “I’m taking care of your corpse, no matter what! You said you’d die in three months, didn’t you?” He stared at me, his voice sharp with accusation. “What if you don’t die by then?” “I’m genuinely looking forward to seeing your pathetic, shameless face then!” “If you had any shame at all, you’d just kill yourself and apologize!” Liam laughed after delivering his taunts, seemingly certain he had me cornered. I smiled too. You are just one person. The Grim Reaper and I are on the same team. Trying to spite me? You’re bound to lose! 3 In my plan, Liam would simply come collect my body after I died. I’d made an agreement with him: we’d contact each other every three days to confirm I was still alive. If more than three days passed without me reaching out, it meant something had happened. He already had my house key, so he would have to come and handle the arrangements. It was getting hot; there was no time to waste. But Liam found this arrangement too dull. The very next day, he appeared at my apartment again. “Get dressed and come with me.” “Where are we going?” “To buy you a burial plot!” He grinned, a strange, twisted smile. “Saying I’d feed you to the dogs was just talk, you know. Dogs are man’s best friends; they can’t eat garbage.” “So, where we bury you, I’ll at least respect your opinion.” I could guess Liam’s intention. He was convinced I was putting on an act, that my talk of dying was just a pathetic ploy to evoke his sympathy. So, he was using the act of buying a burial plot to try and disgust me. Of course, I wasn’t disgusted. I believed that once a person dies, they’re just gone; it doesn’t really matter where you’re buried. But I didn’t want to spoil Liam’s fun, so I got into his Porsche, and we toured several large cemeteries on the outskirts of the city. At each location, Liam would deliberately announce loudly to the cemetery salesperson, “We’re buying this to bury her!” I would always respond politely, smiling at the salesperson, “Sorry for the trouble.” It made the salespeople visibly uncomfortable. They’d be mid-pitch, waxing poetic about the wonderful conditions and auspicious feng shui of the plot, only to stammer awkwardly because of my premature appearance as the future occupant. “It’s fine, please continue,” I’d reassure them. “I think the conditions here are quite good.” The burial plot was chosen. On the drive down the mountain, Liam, seeing my composure, couldn’t help but ask, “You really don’t mind?” “You’ve made very thorough arrangements,” I said, looking at the lush, green surroundings of the cemetery. “I definitely won’t have trouble sleeping once I’m lying here.” Liam had intended to upset me, but instead, I had thoroughly rattled him. He stomped his foot. “Fine! You don’t care, huh? We’ll keep looking! You’ve got a plot, but no funeral attire yet, right? No urn? No memorial portrait?” “I’ll arrange it all for you!” he declared. “And we need to book the professional mourners in advance too!” Liam was a man of his word. He actually took me to handle all these things. We bought seven sets of funeral attire—long and short, for all four seasons. The urn was sculpted from jade, intricately carved with dragons and phoenixes. There was a minor mix-up when we took the memorial portrait; the photographer initially thought we were a couple taking engagement photos. When he learned it was for a memorial, he was clearly displeased. “I’m sorry, I don’t take these kinds of jobs. You two need to leave—” He tried to usher us out. Liam simply held up three fingers. “Three thousand dollars to take the pictures?” “Right away, sir! Just tell me what kind of effect you’re looking for!” the photographer immediately chirped, now beaming. “Whether it’s defiant acceptance or longing for life, anything goes!” “I want her to look like she deserved it,” Liam said dryly. The professional mourners were a local performing troupe, each member a master of theatrical grief. Their schedule was packed, and their performance fee was steep—a cool two hundred thousand dollars. I hadn’t objected to any of Liam’s previous arrangements, but now I finally couldn’t hold back. He was spending too much! He had completely lost his previous frugal habits. The cemetery plot, urn, and memorial portrait already totaled over four hundred thousand. Adding the mourners, six hundred thousand wouldn’t even be enough. My apartment might sell for five hundred thousand if I was lucky, and that would be a high price. I didn’t want to die saddled with debt. “Let’s skip the troupe,” I said. “I don’t have the budget for that. Don’t you play the harmonica? Just play ‘So Long, Farewell’ for me.” “It’s fine,” Liam said, a spooky smile on his face. “I’ll cover the extra. I’ll sponsor it. Elara, as long as you’re willing to die, I’m willing to bury you!” With everything arranged, the burden in my heart lifted, and I just wanted to go home and wait to die. But Liam wouldn’t let me be. He insisted on taking me to a party. If I refused, he’d tear up our agreement. So, I had no choice but to attend, becoming the unfortunate spectacle of the evening. “Is that the former Miss Vance?” “Tsk, tsk! She looks so much more haggard than before.” “Why wouldn’t she be haggard? Arthur Vance married his daughter to Julian Thorne, intending to swallow up the Thorne family’s assets, but the Thornes turned the tables on him. The Vance family went bankrupt, Arthur killed himself, and Mrs. Vance ran off with her secret stash of cash and some young gigolo. And Miss Vance herself was kicked out by the Thornes. She was too clever by half, losing her daughter and everything else.” “Serves her right! That’s karma for her twisted heart!” “But why is Elara with Mr. Hayes?” “Didn’t you hear? Elara and Liam Hayes used to be an item! But Elara was a gold-digger and dumped Liam because he was poor.” “Now Liam is richer than Julian Thorne. She must be regretting it bitterly, right?” “Definitely regretting it! Otherwise, why would she be clinging to Mr. Hayes so shamelessly?” These people weren’t just gossiping; women who clearly had designs on Liam frequently approached me, spewing veiled insults. I had ALS. These past few days, I’d noticed not only my limbs stiffening but my tongue becoming less nimble. I could only remain silent, letting those women barrage me with their chatter. Liam, glass of red wine in hand, watched the spectacle with relish. Emboldened, the women became even more cruel. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t move. Until a large hand grabbed me. “Come with me!” It was my ex-husband, Julian Thorne. His grip was strong, and I stumbled along, nearly falling. “Let her go!” Liam blocked our path. “Get out of the way!” “You get out of the way!” Julian retorted. “She’s my ex-wife!” “She’s with me!” The two men were at daggers drawn, and soon their words escalated into blows. The scene descended into chaos. So much so that many people didn’t notice me collapse to the ground. I was even stepped over without a reaction. Finally, someone realized something was terribly wrong with me. “Stop fighting!” “Elara… Elara might actually be dead!”

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1 Bradley’s slap tore open my gunshot wound, sending me back into surgery. When I woke, my family stood outside my room, whispering. Clara’s swollen belly stretched her dress—seven, maybe eight months along. No wonder they’d sounded tense when the consulate called about my injury. They probably wished I’d died overseas. Mom finally entered, avoiding my gaze. “Evie… it’s been about six months…” I laughed bitterly. “Twelve months in a year, and she’s nearly due. Six months?” She burst into tears. “Let her have Bradley! She’s depressed, not as strong as you!” My blood ran cold. “Mom, you swore he was just after our money—that you’d never let him near us.” 2 My parents had adopted Clara, a fact Bradley learned the very first time he came to our house. Mom, right in front of the whole family, had thrown every single gift he’d brought out the door, declaring that she’d never, ever agree to us being together. That was the first time I ever saw Bradley cry. He sat in his twenty-thousand-dollar beat-up used car, the trunk overflowing with gifts, clutching the steering wheel and sobbing. We never broke up, though. Bradley was highly capable at work, had no bad habits, and was incredibly ambitious. His only flaw was his humble background, but I didn’t see that as an insurmountable obstacle. Mom would poke my head, scolding me for being foolishly devoted. “He’s got the look of an inheritance hunter, that pauper from out of state, barely making enough to cover rent after paying for food. His entire lineage couldn’t scrape together a down payment for a house. What do you even see in him?” “I’m telling you, men like him just want to marry an only child from the big city to change their fate. Just you wait, once he’s got you wrapped around his finger, he’ll drag all his distant relatives over, and you’ll be in for it!” Her words were always harsh, something I’d grown used to. But this time, I defended Bradley, albeit a little helplessly. “He doesn’t mean that, and I’m not an only child. There’s Clara, isn’t there? You’re really overthinking this.” Mom rolled her eyes, then craned her neck to peek at Clara, who was watching TV in the living room. She whispered urgently, “No matter how close, she’s still adopted. When we get old, most of what we own will still be yours. Get that straight!” At the time, I thought her words were a bit much, but a faint warmth still bloomed in my chest. I’d always been touched by how my parents never let Clara’s presence diminish their love for me, which in turn made me dote on Clara even more. I just never imagined that a year after becoming a war correspondent, everything would shatter. 3 Mom had no answer for my questions, only sitting there and weeping. But I felt no sympathy. In my year in the war zone, I’d seen too many displaced refugees. Some had lost their entire families, their only possessions bags of ashes. Others were toddlers, barely three or four, who would go to the cemetery alone every night, sleeping at their mothers’ graves because their longing far outweighed their fear. So Clara’s “pity” held no sway over me. I only wanted to know the reason for the betrayal. “Mom, go get Bradley. I need to talk to him.” “Evie!” Mom looked desperate, trying to dissuade me, but I couldn’t keep my temper in check. “He’s a grown man, he pulled such a shameless stunt, and he doesn’t even have the courage to explain it to his ex-fiancée face-to-face?” I’d already categorized myself as his ex. When Bradley entered, his face was a mask of guilt. “Evie, I’m so sorry. I messed up. Clara’s far along, and she hasn’t been well lately, always throwing up. I know your temper, and I misunderstood… I thought you… That’s why I acted so impulsively and laid hands on you.” I hadn’t even had a chance to say a single word. “Bradley, is that all you have to tell me?” No explanation for betraying me, for getting my own sister pregnant, just an entire conversation framed around protecting Clara, dumping all the blame squarely on my head. It took me a long time to find my voice again, my throat raw. “Do you remember why I became a war correspondent?” Bradley’s face stiffened. 4 Bradley and I were classmates in journalism school, and after earning our master’s degrees, we were lucky enough to join the same network. After a year of working, he spent all his savings on a used car and showed up at my door. After being sent away, he persisted, returning several more times until Mom finally declared that he’d only be worthy of discussing marriage when he bought a house. But this was the Capital City. Bradley could sell himself off and still not afford a bathroom here. Buying a house was a pipe dream. It so happened that the war correspondent previously assigned to The Sands had requested to be recalled due to a family emergency. Eager for the higher pay, Bradley applied to replace him. I actually didn’t want him to go. That was a place where human lives were cheaper than stray dogs. Bradley had barely any field experience; he’d have no idea what dangers he’d face there. “Evie, don’t worry, it’s only for a year. I’ll protect myself. Wait for me to come back and marry you!” Bradley had spoken with such heartfelt emotion, even giving me his ATM card. Unfortunately, he never made it. He tumbled down the stairs while packing his bags and broke his leg. The overseas assignment was left open, and the entire network was frantic, scrambling to find a replacement, but everyone they asked turned them down. When Mom found out, she sat on the sofa, sneering. “I bet he did it on purpose. To win you over, to make you devoted to him. Applying for a war zone, then at the last minute, too scared to go, so he conveniently broke his leg. Only a fool like you would fall for that!” Of course, I didn’t listen. Because this was the second time Bradley had cried. He dumped his savings book and bank cards into my lap, refused to stay in the hospital, cursed himself for being useless, claiming he couldn’t give me a good future, and even suggested we break up. I didn’t agree. After all, there were no substantive, irreconcilable conflicts between us. The overseas assignment couldn’t be left open indefinitely. The leadership, at their wit’s end, finally approached me. I agreed instantly. Bradley went crazy, saying it was too dangerous, that I couldn’t go, that I shouldn’t be impulsive for his sake. But it wasn’t for him. My dream was always to be a frontline journalist. Though The Sands was incredibly dangerous, with lives lost at any moment, I wasn’t afraid. I was prepared for the sacrifice. These were things I’d never told him. To the very end, Bradley believed I did it all for him. 5 The hospital room was deathly quiet. Bradley kept his head bowed, his gaze flickering away from mine, before finally muttering, “I’m sorry.” He looked so guilty, so pitiful. Yet, I almost laughed. I had planned to tell him everything when I got back home and was promoted, but now, there was simply no need. Besides, before I left, he’d sworn to the heavens that if anything happened to me, he wouldn’t live either. Bradley, the liar. “Evie, I’m sorry. I was just so lonely, so exhausted. I’m truly sorry.” Enough. I didn’t want to hear that phrase again. When I was running through hails of bullets and explosions, when I took enormous risks to film firsthand footage from the conflict zone and send it back home, when I huddled alone behind a sand dune, hungry and cold, gritting my teeth to tend to my wounds—all I thought about was Bradley. That year, his occasional texts and video calls were my only comfort. My entire heart, wasted on a scoundrel! I was fighting tooth and nail overseas for our future, while he was carousing with my sister… “How dare you send me those cloying, sickening messages while you were messing around with Clara?” “I was worried about you!” Bradley seemed to latch onto a convenient excuse. “You were out there alone, in such a dangerous place. What if I’d told you we were breaking up, told you about all this, and you’d lost control and something terrible happened?” “Evie, I was doing this for your own good. Besides, we hadn’t seen each other for a year. You were so busy every day, you barely had time for me. And me? I had to help you look after your parents and this house. Do you know how awful I felt every time your parents would tear into me?” So, it was my fault, after all? I bit down hard, so enraged I felt bile rise in my throat. “This is your idea of ‘looking after’?! Bradley, have you no shame?! You ‘looked after’ her straight into my sister’s bed!” My chest tightened with each breath, a sharp, throbbing pain emanating from my healing wound. In the past, Bradley would have rushed to my side, fussing over me. But now, he simply stood up, his posture stiff, his voice cold. “It’s already happened. Clara and I are truly in love. Love isn’t wrong. Evie, let’s just break up.” 6 Bradley left. Furious, I looked up just as my gaze met Clara’s through the window. The moment our eyes connected, she spun around, quickly scurrying away, enveloped by my parents and Bradley. Truly, a guilty conscience written all over them. The hospital room felt hollow. I lay defeated on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. Five years of a relationship, from school to professional life. At least in love, I had given everything. My phone was still filled with videos and photos of us that my friends had envied. People always talked about “from school days to the altar.” Until this very day, I had naively believed that was the story of Bradley and me. After that shouting match, no one from my family showed up for the rest of the day, not even for dinner. My colleague, Chloe, was the one who brought me food. “I heard about what happened,” Chloe said, holding the food bowl. She thought for a long time, then just sighed. She probably hadn’t encountered such a bizarre situation either. My mood was so foul that I took two bites and put down my chopsticks. Chloe tried to cheer me up, recounting a lot of network gossip, but I couldn’t even crack a smile. The room grew quiet again. After a long while, she gently pressed my hand and hesitantly spoke. “Evie, there’s something I don’t know if I should say. I don’t want you to be in the dark, and I worry you might do something impulsive…” “Is it about Bradley?” Chloe nodded, her expression strained. I closed my eyes. “Tell me. I can handle anything now.”

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1 After graduating from The Elite Grooming Academy, my brother, Liam, swore he would marry into wealth. To orchestrate a ‘chance’ encounter, he took my brand-new car, intending to deliberately rear-end Victoria Thorne, the formidable heiress of the city’s old money. I slammed on the brakes in time, telling him the Thornes weren’t fools, and that car would bankrupt us even if we sold everything. Later, Victoria Thorne held a luxurious wedding that made headlines nationwide. My brother was consumed by insane jealousy. He railed that if I hadn’t stopped him, he would have been the groom. In his bitter resentment, he ran me over with his car, killing me. I opened my eyes again, sitting in the passenger seat. Liam’s lips curved into a confident smirk, his eyes fixated on the luxury car ahead. “Once she sees me, Victoria Thorne will be absolutely smitten.” He adjusted his tie, his gaze lingering on the sleek vehicle. “And when that happens, I won’t be caught dead driving this piece of junk.” This time, I didn’t stop him. He floored the accelerator. Our car slammed violently into the fifty-million-dollar supercar in front of us. Under the fierce impact, the supercar slid a short distance before finally coming to a halt. The colossal crunch echoed through the street, drawing numerous onlookers to a standstill. The supercar was severely damaged; its rear spoiler had crumpled off, and the body itself was deeply dented. My brother, Liam, paid no mind to any of it. He quickly recovered from the jolt, primping his appearance in the rearview mirror. His dark fringe was artfully mussed, his eyes rubbed just enough to glisten with a hint of tears, creating a perfectly subtle, vulnerable gaze. If I hadn’t witnessed his deliberate actions, I too would have believed he was a startled little rabbit. After pulling his gaze from the mirror, Liam darted a glance at me. Seeing my composure, sitting still and unperturbed, he looked visibly surprised. Earlier, he had strategically placed two thick cushions in front of himself for impact absorption and had intentionally accelerated when he thought I wasn’t looking. If I hadn’t been prepared, gripping the grab handle tightly, I would have slammed into the dashboard, nursing a bloody nose and bruised face by now. He’d been like this since childhood, always contriving situations to embarrass or diminish me, just to make his own serene perfection shine brighter. “Victoria Thorne rarely makes public appearances. Just follow my lead, don’t screw this up for me,” he hissed, dipping a finger into some foundation. Without asking, he smeared it over my lips, leaving them a ghastly white. “Once I’m the young master, I’ll have you work as a servant at the Thorne estate. The pay will be much better than what you earn now.” With that, Liam tugged down the collar of his tight knit sweater, revealing more of his chest, and pushed open the car door. In my previous life, Liam believed I had derailed his path to wealth, so he blamed me for every miserable turn his life took thereafter. This time, I was keen to see if his machinations would truly alter his destiny. Liam’s emergence caused a ripple of commotion; several women on the sidewalk raised their phones, snapping pictures. He had always been immensely proud of his physique, and with the tight-fitting top accentuating his chest muscles, he naturally drew plenty of admiring glances. Victoria Thorne didn’t get out of the car. Only a sharply dressed chauffeur circled the supercar once. He walked to the driver’s side window, bent down, and spoke a few words to Victoria. Liam, however, bypassed the driver who was about to approach him, and knocked directly on Victoria’s window. As he spoke, he dabbed at his eyes with a finger, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, giving him a perfectly ‘broken’ appearance. A moment later, Victoria Thorne pushed open her car door and glanced in my direction. Then, her gaze settled on Liam. The legendary Thorne heiress was rumored to be mysterious and low-key; countless male models and aspiring celebrities had tried to get close to her, but opportunities were rare. Liam lowered his head, his exquisitely manicured hands twisting together. Then, as if making a momentous decision, he pulled out his phone, ready to dial the police. I saw Victoria Thorne wave a dismissive hand, signaling Liam to put his phone away. She stepped out, her long legs carrying her towards my car. With the ghastly white foundation Liam had smeared on my lips, and a week of non-stop overtime, I must have looked utterly pale and bloodless. Through the car window, I saw Victoria Thorne up close for the first time. It was August, yet she still wore a silk scarf around her neck. A scar snaked upwards from beneath the scarf, reaching her left cheekbone. Despite meticulous reconstructive work, the skin remained uneven and pitted, a stark testament to the original wound’s depth. Liam hurried over, his voice laced with feigned concern: “My brother suddenly had a terrible stomachache, and I was rushing him to the hospital. I accidentally mixed up the gas and brake pedals, so…” He wrung his hands. “Regardless, it’s all my fault. I promise I’ll compensate you for all damages.” This scenario seemed to touch Victoria Thorne. Her cold expression softened slightly, and she calmly said there was no rush. “Take your brother to the hospital first,” she instructed. “My driver, Mr. Hayes, will handle the rest.” As Victoria Thorne turned to leave, Liam nervously stepped in front of her, offering a business card. “This is my contact information. I won’t shirk responsibility.” Victoria Thorne’s gaze fell to the white card in Liam’s hand. It stated Liam was a partner at a pet clinic and a visiting lecturer at the Southern Coast Hospitality College. She surveyed Liam from head to toe, her gaze unwavering, then pulled out her phone. “No need for all that. Let’s just exchange numbers.” 2 Victoria Thorne departed in a waiting Maybach, while a tow truck hauled away the supercar. My car’s hood was mangled, and one headlight was shattered. “This was my new car, just picked it up yesterday. What are we going to do now that you’ve wrecked it?” I demanded as we drove home. Liam ignored me the entire ride. The moment we walked in, he immediately linked arms with Mom, telling her I was giving him a hard time. My mother, Brenda, dotingly patted Liam and then told me to deal with it myself. “Bickering with your brother over something so trivial? You’re hardly acting like an elder brother.” Liam had insisted on driving this morning. He didn’t even have a license; he’d failed his driving test five times. Brenda, worried about his safety, had practically forced me to go with him. My stepfather, Gary, emerged from the kitchen carrying a fruit platter. There were only three forks on it. They were all happily munching on melon and berries, acting as if I wasn’t even in the room. “Victoria Thorne stared at me, didn’t even blink,” Liam boasted, eyes gleaming. “I thought the Thorne heiress would be so hard to win over. Turns out she’s no different from any other woman.” He finished, then smugly pulled out his phone, displaying Victoria Thorne’s contact. “When Liam marries Victoria Thorne, we’ll be family with the Thornes!” Gary clapped his hands, and Brenda likewise drifted into a daydream. Then Liam’s tone shifted. He picked a piece of durian and offered it to Brenda. “Mom, I still owe 300,000 for my Academy tuition.” Brenda’s brow furrowed slightly; she didn’t immediately agree. Our family relied on the small business downtown. In recent years, urban development had bypassed our street, leaving business dismal. That so-called Elite Grooming Academy charged 500,000 per person, guaranteeing a cross-class marriage into wealth. Liam, three years out of college, had been too busy with cosmetic procedures, photo shoots to cultivate his ‘gentleman’ persona, and hadn’t worked a day. The previous 200,000 tuition fee had already drained Brenda’s savings. “Brenda, Liam joined that Academy for your sake, so you could have a better life,” Gary said bluntly, pushing up the chunky gold chain on his wrist. “If you won’t even fork out this much, don’t expect to bask in Liam’s glory later. Besides, isn’t someone else still working? Family should help each other out.” He was hinting that I should pay. In my past life, because of Liam’s wealthy aspirations, our family accumulated endless debt. Collectors showed up at my office, causing a scene and costing me my job. Furthermore, they seemed utterly oblivious to Victoria Thorne’s supercar, convinced she wouldn’t make Liam pay for the damages. I wouldn’t be like them, pinning my hopes on a flimsy dream of wealth. So, before they could even ask, I preemptively announced I was moving out. “I’ve already found a place, and I’ll transfer my registration out of this address when I move.” Gary scoffed, saying I was jealous, unable to stand Liam becoming a ‘kept man of wealth’. “The most important thing for a man is a handsome face, to marry a rich woman. Ethan, your jealousy won’t change a thing. With your paltry salary, trying to move out? That’s hilarious.” My phone vibrated; a colleague informed me of an urgent meeting. I went back to my room to gather documents, preparing to head back to the office. Liam casually remarked that I was worrying for nothing, earning barely three thousand a month, working myself to death wouldn’t compare to his little finger. Brenda, in an even more condescending tone, added: “Ethan, you need to start buttering up Liam now. If Liam’s happy, he might just gift you an apartment. Then you wouldn’t have to rent.” Liam flashed a magnanimous smile, waiting for me to bow and submit. I tightened my grip on the documents, my gaze sweeping over the three of them one by one. “The Thorne family’s money isn’t Liam’s. And the money I earn will always be mine,” I stated, my voice firm. “Good looks are indeed an advantage, but if you have nothing else, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. You might want to look up what kind of car Victoria Thorne drives first.” 3 The urgent company meeting was about the Clearwater Resort project, a collaboration with the Thorne family. The Thornes were responsible for development and construction, while Ambiance Media handled marketing and promotion. Five years ago, I joined Ambiance Media through campus recruitment. As a global leading media and advertising firm, Ambiance Media’s work was indeed demanding, but the compensation was top-tier. However, what I told my family was that I was just a low-level grunt at Ambiance Media, earning a mere 3,000 a month. Gary and Liam already looked down on me, so they readily believed my 3,000-a-month salary. After introducing the progress, the director stated solemnly: “The Thorne family’s representative for this project has changed to Victoria Thorne. This is the first project she’s personally handled as the Thorne heiress.” He then added that Victoria Thorne was not satisfied with the current proposals. We needed to prepare two alternative proposals for a review meeting with her in two weeks. “The Thorne heiress is very particular about details and has cut down on a significant portion of the budget. Everyone, perk up!” After the meeting adjourned, colleagues gathered in the breakroom, gossiping about the Thorne family. “I heard Victoria Thorne was disfigured as a child, which is why she rarely appears in public.” “Disfigured? Who would dare disfigure her?” “Don’t know. My mom was a journalist back then; she secretly took pictures of her going to the hospital, but her editor made her delete them all.” “There’s no telling what kind of things happen in elite family feuds. Victoria Thorne’s sister’s death was also suspicious. A little girl playing by the ocean in the middle of the night?” “The elder Mr. Thorne had three wives and four daughters. Victoria Thorne is the youngest, yet she’s become the successor. Her methods must be extraordinary.” “Let’s just focus on our own work. Didn’t you hear the director say Victoria Thorne is extremely demanding?” I recalled the face I saw through the car window; even with the scar, she was undeniably striking. But the profound aura emanating from her was like a vortex, impossible to decipher. She was certainly not the easily swayed, infatuated woman Liam claimed her to be. Sipping my coffee, I instinctively opened my social media, only to find Liam had updated with a new set of photos. He was wearing a designer suit, sipping red wine on a hotel balcony, surrounded by lavish bouquets of flowers. Also in the frame were two foreigners with distinctly aristocratic bearing. The caption read: “Another rare vintage from the Italian vineyard has arrived. The aroma fills the palate, coating the entire mouth and nasal cavity with a truly romantic essence. Gents, you really ought to stock up on some high-end wines.” Outside the frame, there were probably a dozen more finely made-up young men waiting. The Elite Grooming Academy provided its students with standard photo props: luxury cars, designer goods, jewelry, ocean-view villas, and so on. The goal was to create an image of a privileged background and refined taste. Wealthy individuals, unaware of the deception, were inevitably drawn in by these images. Furthermore, to avoid being looked down upon, they also pretended to be successful businessmen. Liam’s purported partnership and professorship were merely fabrications concocted by the training agency. The real estate agent had sent me two more listings to choose from. My savings from these past few years were enough for me to buy a two-bedroom apartment near the office. I needed to sever ties with my family as quickly as possible, lest I get dragged into their mess. Three days later, the video of Liam’s car crash had gone viral. Comments beneath hailed him as a once-in-a-millennium natural heartthrob, and simultaneously disparaged current popular idols, claiming that if he entered entertainment, half the young stars would be out of a job. Immediately after, someone pulled out Liam’s social media photos, effusively praising his family background and refined taste. This way, it would be hard for Victoria Thorne not to notice him, and his burgeoning fame was the perfect stepping stone into the elite circles. I had to admit, the Academy’s efficiency was truly impressive. After signing the apartment purchase contract, I returned home to pack my belongings. Gary opened the door, giving me a dismissive glance, and asked which ‘slum’ I’d managed to rent a place in. Brenda didn’t even look at me. She was excitedly hovering around Liam, as if she’d just won the lottery. “It’s Victoria Thorne! Victoria Thorne messaged me first!” Liam exclaimed, eyes wide. “Madame Celeste said, once you get the woman to make the first move, I’m practically there!” Liam closed his eyes, held the phone to his chest, and only after a few seconds did he tap to open it. The three of them stared at the phone, silent for a long time. I put down my suitcase and walked over for a look. Victoria Thorne’s message read: “The car needs to be sent back to Sweden for repairs. The cost is $1,570,000.”

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My in-laws insisted we spend the New Year holidays at their ancestral home. Unable to secure flights, we decided to drive. But then, my wife Chloe’s childhood crush, Ethan Hayes, heard about our plans and declared he simply had to come along. He even audaciously claimed the passenger seat next to me, a smug smirk plastered on his face. “Leo, old man,” he drawled, “I get terrible motion sickness. The front seat is my only option.” Chloe shot me a look of pure contempt. “It’s just one seat, Leo. Why are you being so petty?” She scoffed. “If you could even drive, would this be such a hassle?” My in-laws chimed in, their voices dripping with disapproval. “You’re a grown man. Why are you so narrow-minded?” Outnumbered and out-argued, I found myself squeezed uncomfortably in the back seat with them. Who would have thought that as we passed through a toll plaza, Ethan would spot a stray dog and, in a sudden burst of performative generosity, exclaim: “Oh, that dog looks so pathetic! We simply must take it with us!” I immediately objected. “Our car is full. Adding a dog would make us over capacity, and we won’t be allowed on the road.” No sooner had the words left my lips than Chloe rounded on me, her eyes blazing. “Leo, if that’s the case, then you can give up your seat for the stray! Just take a cab home!” 1 As we drove through the toll plaza, Ethan, who’d insisted on squeezing in with us for the drive to the ancestral home, spotted a stray dog and demanded we take it with us. My protests were utterly ignored by Ethan. He simply turned his pleading gaze to Chloe. “Chloe, look how pitiful this little dog is. If we just leave it here, it’ll surely freeze to death.” His voice softened, taking on a theatrical tremor. “It’s so tiny, it hasn’t even seen the world yet. It shouldn’t die here like this.” With that, he scooped the dog into his arms. Chloe, her heart swelling with an apparent tenderness, pulled my coat from the back seat and wrapped it around the dog, murmuring to it as if no one else were present: “Don’t worry, little one. I won’t abandon you.” Then, turning to Ethan, she gently instructed, “Don’t get your own clothes dirty. Use this coat to keep it warm.” She then turned her displeasure on me, her eyes snapping. “Leo, how can you be so utterly devoid of compassion?” Her voice rose. “While in your eyes it might just be a stray, it’s still a living, breathing creature. How can you be so utterly indifferent, so cold-blooded?” I stared blankly at the two overflowing with self-righteous sentiment. I hadn’t once suggested abandoning the dog, yet they had painted me as some kind of unfeeling monster. And one of them was my wife, with whom I had shared a bed for years. Despite my rising anger, I patiently tried to explain. “If you truly want to save this dog, we could leave some food for it.” I offered a practical solution. “Or we could speak to the convenience store clerk here, leave some money, and ask them to care for it.” I gestured to the crammed interior of the car. “Our car is already full. Taking it along would put us over capacity, and we’d certainly be stopped by the traffic police.” I thought my explanation was clear enough. But no sooner had the words left my lips than Ethan scoffed. “Leo, I know you’re rolling in money, but how can you just leave this poor stray with some random store clerk? How can you be sure they’ll properly care for it?” He cradled the dog closer. “What if they take the money and do nothing? What about Shadow?” In less than five minutes, Ethan had already named the stray dog. “How is a little dog like this supposed to survive the bitter cold of winter?” He widened his eyes, his voice laced with manufactured indignation. “In the eyes of you rich folks, is a dog’s life really so worthless? Is it not a life at all?” He paused dramatically. “How can you be so heartless as to leave it here, all alone? Can’t you see it’s trembling with cold?” I found Ethan’s moral grandstanding quite amusing. “I think you make a good point,” I said, a slow, chilling smile touching my lips. My tone shifted. “So, how about you give up your seat for this little black dog, Shadow?” I watched his face. “After all, you’re the extra one in this car.” 2 Hearing my words, Ethan, who had just been so righteously indignant, froze. “You wouldn’t ask Chloe’s parents to get out of the car for your little dog, would you?” I pressed on. “They’re older, after all.” I paused, letting the implication hang in the air. “Since you’re so concerned for this little dog, how about I take it with me, and you stay behind?” Now it was Ethan’s turn to panic. He nervously glanced at Chloe. Chloe’s brow furrowed, and she shot me an irritated glare. “Leo, that’s going too far.” Her voice was sharp. “Ethan is a guest I invited to come home with us. How can you just abandon him in a place like this? Is that how you treat a guest?” I used to think Chloe was incapable of caring for others. Now I realized she just wasn’t capable of caring for me. When it came to Ethan, she was meticulous, terrified of causing her beloved first love even the slightest inconvenience. I crossed my arms, watching Chloe with a calm, expectant air. “So, what exactly do you propose?” Without a moment’s hesitation, she gently lifted little Shadow into the car. Then, she turned to me, her gaze cold and dismissive. “Leo, you’ll just have to make a small sacrifice. Give your seat to this little dog.” She paused. “You can take a taxi. That way, you won’t be crammed in the back with my parents, and you’ll be more comfortable.” Just then, a cry of surprise came from the back seat, from Chloe’s parents. “Oh, where did this stray dog come from? It’s already cramped enough back here; there’s no room!” Chloe patiently reassured them. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. Leo won’t be riding with us, so it won’t be crowded.” With that single sentence, she directly stripped me of my rightful place, and not a single one of my supposed family members objected. “You want me to give up my seat for a stray dog?” I pointed to myself, disbelief hardening my voice, staring at Chloe. She looked at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Mom and Dad are old. Do you want to leave them stranded at this toll booth? Do you have no sense of responsibility as a son-in-law?” Her voice rose. “As for Ethan, he’s my guest. Have you ever seen a host abandon their guest and leave them alone?” She scoffed. “If anything happens to him, what’s the difference between you and a murderer?” Her face softened, almost condescendingly. “I’m doing this for your own good. Can you stop throwing your tantrums?” She then began to complain. “If you could drive, would this even be an issue?” Her voice rose again, tinged with self-pity. “I’m already exhausted from driving such a long distance, Leo. Can’t you show me a little consideration?” I stared at Chloe in stunned silence. It was true, I didn’t drive. My family had always provided a driver for me since I was a child. Later, my parents died in a car accident, and driving became a profound phobia for me. Chloe wasn’t unaware of the reason; she used to comfort me. “I’ll be your driver from now on, Leo. You just need to sit comfortably in the passenger seat.” Now, she not only gave my passenger seat to Ethan, but my inability to drive had become another excuse for her complaints. My heart felt as if it had been doused with ice water, turning instantly frigid. She worried about her parents’ age, worried about Ethan’s delicate constitution. Even a random stray dog received Chloe’s sympathetic attention. Only for me, was there not a shred of compassion. Yet, she felt perfectly justified in leaving me alone at this desolate toll booth, nowhere near a town. I looked at Chloe, my voice flat. “So, what about me?” Chloe didn’t hesitate for a moment. “You’re a grown man. Don’t you know how to find your way home?” She offered a dismissive wave of her hand. “Even if you are a pampered young master who expects everything handed to him, you can still call a taxi, can’t you?” With that, she calmly ushered Ethan into the passenger seat, closing the door for him with tender care. “It’s cold outside. Just stay warm in the car.” Ethan shot me a triumphant smirk. “Thanks, Leo, old man!” he called out, his voice dripping with false gratitude. “Saving a dog’s life is like building a seven-story pagoda. Little Shadow will be eternally grateful to you.” 3 He spoke of gratitude, but his eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction. They sat comfortably in the heated car, while I stood alone outside, enduring the biting wind. A stark contrast indeed. “Chloe Miller,” I called out, my voice laced with venom, “do you even remember who your husband is?!” That single sentence successfully wiped the smile from Chloe’s face. “Even if you are my husband, you can’t be so unreasonable!” she snapped. “I’m not asking you to walk home. It’s just a cab ride, isn’t it? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” She scowled. “Leo Sterling, when are you going to learn to be more generous?!” With that, she slammed the car door shut, starting the engine. “Instead of bickering with me, you should hurry up and call a taxi,” she yelled through the closed window. “Don’t delay everyone’s New Year’s Eve dinner!” Hearing ‘New Year’s Eve dinner,’ Chloe’s parents didn’t forget to call out their own demands. “Leo, remember to pick up some fresh vegetables when you get back!” her mother chirped. “The eggs at the old house might be expired, don’t forget to buy some new ones.” Her father added, “Oh, and your father-in-law hasn’t been feeling well lately; he can’t eat anything too greasy. Try to make the New Year’s Eve dinner light and healthy!” They seemed to have completely forgotten that I had been kicked out of the car and, at this point, had no idea how I was even supposed to get back. They still shamelessly treated me like a personal servant, barking orders. Even Ethan, watching the drama unfold, casually chimed in, “Leo, you’re impressive! You actually cook?” Chloe nodded in agreement, a faint smirk playing on her lips. Ethan eyed me with a teasing look. “Then I’ll put in a request for braised lion’s head meatballs. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?” With that, he casually rolled up the window. Chloe didn’t spare me another glance, hitting the gas and driving off. The car had barely driven off when Chloe’s call came through. But it wasn’t remorse, nor was it concern for my safety. It was just another assignment. “What are you doing? Why haven’t you hailed a cab yet?” Her voice was laced with impatience. “And listen, Ethan gets car sick, so I can’t drive fast. So, when you get a cab, tell the driver to speed up. Get back first and prepare the New Year’s Eve dinner we just ordered. We’re all tired from the long drive. Hurry up and do what you’re supposed to!” I used to be a pampered young master who didn’t know the first thing about cooking. I only learned to cook after I started dating Chloe. We always had household staff. But Chloe and her parents insisted on eating my cooking, claiming that only my personal efforts could prove my love. I had complained, of course, but Chloe always shut me down. “Mom and Dad have worked hard their whole lives; they just want to enjoy their son-in-law’s blessings. Just indulge them a little.” With one casual remark about ‘outsourcing filial piety,’ she successfully trapped me in a cage of servitude, catering to their every whim for three years. Every year, the New Year’s Eve dinner naturally fell to me. I couldn’t even get Chloe to help with the smallest task. Because my mother-in-law would say, “A man cooking is a sign of love for his woman,” and literally dragged Chloe out of the kitchen. In the eyes of my in-laws, and even Chloe herself, I wasn’t a husband, nor a son-in-law. I was merely their personal servant, handling their every need. Listening to her demands, the last shred of lingering affection I held for Chloe was personally shredded by her. In that moment, a sudden clarity washed over me. Since there was no love left, why would I keep this ungrateful woman for the New Year, inviting bad luck for the year to come? I immediately sent a message to my lawyer, instructing him to prepare all the necessary divorce papers. I looked in the direction they had left, and a chilling smile touched my lips. Then, I dialed 911. “I want to report a crime. My wife intentionally abandoned me on the highway.”

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On last year’s Samhain, my brother, Ronan, accompanied his mentee, Celeste Thorne – a young woman with an inherent sensitivity to spiritual entities – to the secluded woodlands for stargazing, celebrating her birthday. To ensure no lingering malevolence disturbed them, he took with him our family’s ancient relic: the Soul-Quelling Amber. Unbeknownst to him, a vengeful spirit, one he had gravely wounded in the past, seized the opportunity to infiltrate our estate. My pregnant sister-in-law, Seraphina, in a desperate act to shield me, was dragged off by the malevolent entity and cast into our deep well. Both her life and the life of her unborn child were extinguished in an instant. My little niece, Penny, in her courageous effort to cover my escape, had her legs brutally severed. In my despair, I called Ronan, pleading for help. Hearing the news, he was forced to abandon Celeste and rush back home. The vengeful spirit was eventually purified, but from the woodlands came grim tidings: Celeste Thorne had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a blood-stained hair tie. Ronan, his face devoid of emotion, calmly collected the hair tie, then dismissively assured me that everything was fine. Yet, on the very day Seraphina was due to give birth, Ronan pushed me off a cliff. “If you hadn’t called me back, how would Celeste have died?! I demand blood for blood!” His scream still echoed in my memory, a sharp blade piercing my heart. My eyes snapped open once more, the villa’s lights extinguished. Only the low, sinister gurgle of the vengeful spirit’s laughter resonated through the oppressive darkness. 1 Outside the window, a fleeting shadow darted past, causing the doors and windows to creak and rattle. I jolted awake, snatching Seraphina and Penny, pulling them into the ancestral shrine. “Kaelin,” Seraphina’s voice held a note of concern, “Why are you trembling so violently? It’s quite normal for restless spirits to stir things up around Samhain every year, isn’t it?” “Yeah, Aunt Kaelin,” Penny chimed in, her childish voice full of confusion, “We have the Soul-Quelling Amber at home. Those little ghosts wouldn’t dare come in.” The mother and daughter exchanged puzzled glances, then casually tried to soothe me. They didn’t know that Ronan, to accompany Celeste Thorne in the wilderness for her birthday celebration, had long since taken the family’s Soul-Quelling Amber with him. “Seraphina,” my voice quivered, words catching in my throat, “Ronan took the Amber. Now, this house… it’s just an ordinary house.” “More accurately,” I choked out, “it’s the most dangerous place.” Our Luminara family has for generations been dedicated to purifying spiritual entities. In modern times, the number of grudging spirits we’ve subdued is countless, and naturally, we’ve made many enemies. During ordinary Samhain nights, even when the spectral unrest was high, with the Soul-Quelling Amber present, no vengeful spirit dared approach within a ten-mile radius. But now, this villa, left unguarded by the Soul-Quelling Amber, had become a clear target, a beacon in the eyes of all vengeful spirits. Most critically, I was born with a unique constitution, highly sensitive to spirits, yet lacked the ability to purify them. I was just an ordinary person. And at this moment, with a pregnant woman and a child, facing these vengeful spirits, our situation was extremely perilous. My hands trembling, I struggled to move tables, even dragging an old coffin to barricade the doorway. Then I pulled out a thick stack of talismans, affixing them one by one to the doors and windows. After that, I swiftly knelt, banging my head three times against the floor, arranging the ancestral tablets of our first and earliest patriarchs into a Ten Directions Seal, encircling us within its protection. Seraphina, gripping the edge of a table, watched in astonishment. She couldn’t comprehend how, in our Luminara family, where spirit purification and securing safety through ancient arrays had always been paramount, the very family heirloom could have been taken. Even less could she believe that Ronan, as the sole heir to the Luminara legacy of spirit purification, who had always acted with careful deliberation, could have lost his mind and done something so utterly preposterous. But seeing my brazen, almost sacrilegious actions, Seraphina had no choice but to believe. “Then call him! Call your brother back!” she urged, frantic. The words had barely left her lips when the single candle flame within the room ‘poof’ extinguished, and an eerie, skin-crawling laughter echoed through the sudden darkness. Seraphina collapsed to the floor, clutching Penny in a trembling embrace, her face ghastly pale with fright. However, I did not contact Ronan. Reborn, I couldn’t trust that he would come to our rescue immediately. After all, last time he returned, Seraphina was already dead, Penny’s legs crippled, and my own eyes had been gouged out. I unclasped the pristine, frost-white jade pendant from my neck and pressed it into Seraphina’s trembling hand. I was unable to master the Luminara family’s secret arts. My father, to protect me, had collaborated with other clan members to craft this jade. With the jade to protect Seraphina and Penny, my heart felt a fraction lighter. Seraphina, understanding my intention, was unwilling to accept it. As we wrestled over it, the front door crashed open with a resounding ‘BANG’. I instinctively shielded the mother and daughter, my gaze locked on the oppressive void before us. The temperature in the room plummeted. Though nothing was visible, a sudden, chilling sensation crept up my scalp, as if countless needles hung suspended directly above our heads. And since moments ago, my little niece had been fiddling with her wrist communicator, now finally connecting with Ronan. “Daddy, come back quickly! There’s a vengeful spirit in the house!” she cried, her voice laced with fear. Ronan’s voice on the line was impatient: “Alright, Penny, stop being silly. Daddy is busy. Can’t you be more sensible?” Seraphina cried out, “Ronan, this isn’t a joke! A vengeful spirit is in the house! If you don’t come back, the children and I will truly die!” Ronan’s voice turned icy: “Wife, how many times have I told you? Can’t you women suppress your jealous, competitive nature? I’m merely accompanying Celeste for her birthday, and you’re acting like a raving harpy, it’s so disappointing.” “Don’t come at me with excuses about pregnancy hormones or being overly possessive or paranoid. I don’t want to hear a single word of it. Right now, I’m celebrating Celeste’s birthday.” “Oh, and tell Kaelin Luminara, she’s going to be married off sooner or later, so she should stop meddling in our affairs, or she’ll end up suffering the same tragic consequences as last time!” I felt as if plunged into an ice-cold abyss. Ronan… he was reborn too! If that was the case, he knew precisely what would befall the three of us, yet why was he acting with such chilling indifference? Could it be that, in this new life, Ronan cared neither for the life of his own sister nor for the lives of his wife and child? 2 The vengeful spirits began to churn through everything in the room, clattering and groaning with deafening roars. Tonight, the yin energy was potent, and the spirits’ resentment was strong. Ordinary talismans were utterly useless against their assault. Thankfully, the ancestral patriarchs’ tablets provided some suppression, keeping the spirits at bay for now. Composing myself, I dialed the number for Julian Vance, Captain of the Havenwood Bind-Spirit Unit, and also my fiancé. “Julian, you need to bring your team to my house, fast! We’re surrounded by vengeful spirits!” “Hmph, Miss Luminara,” he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’ll truly say anything to trick your brother into coming back, won’t you?” “You know perfectly well it’s Samhain tonight, and supernatural incidents are rampant. The unit is swamped, yet you pull a stunt like this. Do you think the lives of Havenwood citizens are worth nothing?” Julian’s snide tone caught me off guard. I was about to explain, but he simply hung up. Undeterred, I called again. After numerous attempts, Julian finally picked up, seemingly annoyed. “Your brother already called me. He said you and your sister-in-law, out of jealousy because he was with Celeste, would definitely claim that vengeful spirits had entered the house.” My voice cracked with urgency, tears welling up: “Julian, don’t believe my brother! There are vengeful spirits! They’re the same ones you and my brother wounded last month in the Blackwood University district!” Julian didn’t believe me. He spoke coldly: “Do you take me for a fool? Your Luminara family’s Soul-Quelling Amber never leaves the estate. Your brother would be insane to take it!” Fuming with exasperation, I urged Julian to check their Bind-Spirit Unit’s Divination Needle; it would detect if the Soul-Quelling Amber was still within Havenwood. Julian utterly dismissed it, instead impatiently snapping, “Kaelin Luminara, can you women not have some limit to your squabbling? Do you really feel accomplished making up such things for attention?!” Tears streamed down my face in sheer desperation: “Please! My sister-in-law is heavily pregnant, and Penny is only four years old! This is all real!” Yet, my frantic pleas failed to convince him. Julian even angrily kicked something over, then threatened ominously: “Kaelin Luminara, if you’ve stooped to such depths, there’s no need for our engagement to continue.” His words struck my heart like a heavy hammer. Julian and I had been betrothed since childhood, growing up as childhood sweethearts, and our bond had always been strong. But ever since Celeste appeared, both he and Ronan had changed. Ronan rarely came home, and when he did, he would constantly compare Seraphina to Celeste, sparking countless arguments. And Julian, he too showed a distinct favoritism towards Celeste, turning to find flaws in me at every turn, even repeatedly approaching my father in private to break off the engagement. These two men, they’d done so many foolish things for Celeste. Our Luminara family upheld an ancient decree: unless a vengeful spirit was utterly irredeemable, it was to be granted a path to redemption. Yet, simply because a spirit had dared to glance at Celeste, Ronan and Julian had led a team to the Blackwood University district to subdue all the spirits in that area. They shattered the balance of yin and yang there, twisting benign spirits into malevolent entities, which in turn brought this retribution upon us. The memory of our tragedy in the previous life sent shivers down my spine. I absolutely could not allow the tragedy of the past to repeat itself! I bit down hard on my lower lip, almost begging: “Julian, I agree to break off our engagement! Just send your team over now, and I’ll stay far away from you forever, I promise I won’t bother you again!” Julian paused for a long moment. He knew how much I loved him, and he’d seen my notebook filled with “Marry Julian Vance.” My devotion to him was akin to life itself; he knew better than anyone that I wouldn’t easily give up on my feelings for him. Yet now, I had uttered such words. His colleague beside him seemed to object: “Captain Vance, maybe you should go take a look? Miss Luminara wouldn’t joke about something like this.” “Besides, this year’s Samhain has been calmer than usual. The guys can handle it themselves. You go on.” Julian let out a heavy sigh, his resolve wavering. I seized the opportunity to record the scene unfolding around me and sent it to him with a single tap. The chaotic scene, Seraphina, heavily pregnant, clutching Penny, who was trembling with fear—Julian finally felt a pang of compassion. “Alright, I’ll bring a team,” he conceded, his voice hesitant. “But things had better be as you say, or you and your sister-in-law will pay the price.” My dimmed eyes gradually brightened, but the very next second, Julian’s communicator received a message. He opened it, and it was unmistakably Ronan’s voice. “Kaelin called you, didn’t she? I knew she would. They were even faking tears just now, and Penny went along with their act, saying they’d be killed by vengeful spirits if I didn’t come back.” “Heh, don’t you think women are scheming? They live here for free, don’t do any work, and then they’re constantly paranoid, playing out their little palace dramas.” “I didn’t fall for it, and you, the esteemed Captain of the Bind-Spirit Unit, shouldn’t be made a fool of either.” Ronan’s words pierced my heart like a dagger. Ronan, for the sake of another woman, had abandoned his own sister whom he’d sworn to cherish for life, and disregarded his wife with whom he’d promised to grow old and die together. But he, too, was reborn! He knew exactly what we would endure! Julian cut the voice message short, his voice grim and low: “From now on, the Bind-Spirit Unit is forbidden from taking calls from Kaelin Luminara. No one is to be dispatched to her location!” “Hmph, Kaelin Luminara,” he sneered, “I would now very much enjoy seeing you and your sister-in-law torn to pieces by vengeful spirits!” As if to validate his words, the moment the call ended, the yin energy in the room surged. The crystal chandelier overhead, under an irresistible force, plummeted to the ground. I lunged forward, shielding Seraphina and Penny. Glass shards pierced my back, and blood droplets stained my white dress. 3 The searing pain brought cold sweat trickling down my face, but I grimly pushed myself up to confirm Seraphina and Penny were unharmed. Seeing they were only shaken, I let out a long, shaky breath. The three of us had been deeply hurt and saddened by Ronan’s words moments before, but the immediate crisis forced us to steel ourselves and face it. Seraphina wiped away her tears, and together we helped Penny to her feet. The three of us stood back-to-back, clasping each other’s hands tightly, scanning our surroundings. The array I had set up was rudimentary, and by now, most of its power had been destroyed. More and more vengeful spirits surged towards us. The sheer oppressive yin energy suffocated us, making every breath a struggle. “Seraphina, I’ll rush out in a moment and draw the spirits away. You take Penny and escape. Go to the Bind-Spirit Unit… no, go find Elias Blackwood!” Father was abroad recuperating and hadn’t returned. Ronan wouldn’t help us, and with Julian there, the Bind-Spirit Unit wouldn’t heed us. Only Elias, who trained under the same master as Father, could possibly deal with these vengeful spirits! Seraphina shook her head, tears streaming: “No, Kaelin, I won’t leave you alone!” “If anyone’s leaving, it’s you first! I’m pregnant, and Penny is so young. We’re a burden, you…” I embraced her tightly, gently patting her trembling body: “Seraphina, listen to me. You’re carrying the first male child our Luminara family has had in generations, and Penny is only three…” “Vengeful spirits love human bodies the most. I’ll just now—” A shrill, piercing voice interrupted me. “Run? You’re too naive! Since we’ve come knocking tonight, we intend to make the most of it! Ronan Luminara injured countless of my kind for one woman, so I’ll make sure to give his women a proper ‘welcome’!” “A pregnant woman… a virgin… and a child! Haha! The taste must be exquisite!” That suffocating, chilling gaze swept over us, inch by agonizing inch. I clutched the few remaining talismans in my pocket, my mind racing to plan a route to draw the spirits away. But before I could act, an invisible force toppled the ancestral patriarch’s tablets. We were flung like rag dolls, slamming into the wall. Seraphina was protected by the frost-white jade; the spirits dared not touch her directly. But Penny was pinned in mid-air, her small limbs forced open. I was arched against the wall in a humiliating posture, my hair ripped away, scalp and all, blood dripping onto the floor. I’d already died once in the previous life. This time, no matter what, I wouldn’t let Seraphina and Penny suffer before my eyes! “A bunch of cowards who wouldn’t dare seek revenge on Ronan Luminara, only daring to prey on helpless women and children!” I spat through trembling teeth, deliberately provoking them. “Cowards in life, cowards in death, always cowards! Hahaha!” Sure enough, the vengeful spirits furiously flung me to the ground. I dared not even breathe, seizing the chance to scramble up and run out. However, Seraphina suddenly shoved Penny into my arms, simultaneously pressing the frost-white jade into my hand. “Kaelin, quickly! Take Penny and go!” Her face was resolute, yet her eyes were filled with an agonizing reluctance to leave her child. I instantly realized what she was about to do. Seraphina was an oracle from an ancient sacred land; she was about to perform a Blood-Oath Sacrifice! Seraphina picked up a shard of glass and sliced open her wrist, blood splattering. I saw the spirits that had been gnawing at her recoil, trembling. Yet, one soul could not withstand a multitude. The overwhelming darkness of spirits poured over her. Seraphina was flung out the window, but she strained with all her might to scream out her last words: “Kaelin, run! Go find Elias Blackwood!” My breath hitched, but the sheer will to survive violently jolted my heart awake. This was Seraphina’s selfless act, a chance for us to escape. I no longer hesitated. Clutching Penny, I bolted. I ran without stopping, charging forward like a madwoman. I placed the frost-white jade around Penny’s neck. The vengeful spirits hot on our heels tore clumps of my hair and scalp, stones relentlessly pelted my back. I fell, then scrambled back up… I heard the tearing sound of my own flesh on my back, smelled the thick coppery scent of blood in the air, but still, I pressed on relentlessly towards Elias’s house. I finally reached Elias’s house, frantically pressing the doorbell, pounding on the front door. “Elias! Help!” “Save my sister-in-law!” Elias, casually sipping a glass of red wine, strolled over to me. Seeing my disheveled and injured state, he merely frowned slightly. But he didn’t rush to help me up as I’d expected. Instead, he looked at me with a disappointed expression. “Kaelin,” he began, his voice flat, “you and your sister-in-law have gone to such lengths, acting like this just to get Ronan home. It’s truly… a spectacle.” “But why involve Penny? To make her suffer for your jealousy?” He spoke, idly sipping from his glass of red wine. I broke down: “Elias, how can you also believe we’re lying?! Can’t you see the injuries on us?!” To my surprise, Elias merely glanced dismissively, then his expression turned to one of ‘I knew it’: “Ronan already informed me that you two would go so far as to injure yourselves to create the illusion of being hurt.” “Julian also called to warn me. It’s all just your petty jealousy, yet you still try to fool an old man like me. Child, as a Luminara, how can you be so disrespectful to your elders?!” With that, he smashed the wine glass on the ground, his eyes burning with anger. I clung to Elias’s leg, desperately trying to explain: “Elias, it’s not like that! The vengeful spirits are relentlessly pursuing us! They’re right behind us!” However, I forgot that Elias’s powerful ward protected this area; the spirits wouldn’t dare enter and had long since retreated. Elias’s anger intensified, and he kicked me away: “Kaelin Luminara, I know my brother cherished you, but you are a woman. You cannot inherit the Luminara family’s legacy!” “Your value lies in being a good wife and mother, in marrying and having children! If you still harbor such absurd ambitions, attempting to contend with Ronan for the family’s inheritance, I will personally attend to this family matter for my brother!” His kick landed with crushing force. I rolled a considerable distance, and combined with my existing injuries, I immediately coughed up several mouthfuls of blood. Yet, I felt the physical agony was but a fraction of the searing pain in my heart. So that’s it… Ronan was convinced I was vying with him for the family fortune. That’s why, even reborn, even knowing it wasn’t a lie, he coldly ignored us. He even cut off our last chance to seek help from others. What a brother! What a fiancé! What an uncle! I wiped the blood from my mouth, struggled to my feet, and stumbled as I picked up the already unconscious Penny. If this was how it was, why should I beg? The world isn’t limited to Luminara purifiers or the Bind-Spirit Unit for dealing with vengeful spirits! It’s not just Ronan Luminara, not just Julian Vance, and certainly not just Elias Blackwood! Couldn’t the Lord of Vengeful Spirits compel all other spirits to bow before him, to submit to his will?

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5. The police insisted my parents come to the station. I shook my head, explaining they were both working out of town and couldn’t make it back. I noticed the looks on Tiffany’s father’s and the principal’s faces shift, clearly to something more calculating. A child whose parents worked elsewhere—wouldn’t she be easy to manipulate? I called my butler, concisely explaining the situation. Then I took off my ruined coat and said to the police, “They’ll have to compensate me for this coat, won’t they?” The officer looked at the bubble tea-soaked coat, nodding. “Absolutely.” “Who spilled the drink on her coat?” the officer asked. Tiffany’s smug expression faltered, her lips trembling. No one spoke up. I simply pointed directly at Tiffany. Tiffany’s father frowned. “It’s just a coat. We’ll pay for it.” He pulled out his wallet, counted a few banknotes, slapped them on the table, and pushed them towards me with an air of condescension. Tiffany mumbled a few times, but didn’t dare speak out. I looked at Tiffany’s father with a faint, amused smile, then pulled out my purchase receipt and handed it to him. His arrogant expression instantly vanished. He stared, eyes wide, at the receipt. “Four… four thousand…” My voice was flat and cold. “Four thousand eight hundred. I bought it last month. No depreciation.” Just then, my butler arrived, accompanied by a solicitor. “If compensation is refused, we will proceed with legal action.” Tiffany’s father, being a local councilman, could certainly afford five thousand. He gritted his teeth. “We’ll pay!” Then he turned and slapped Tiffany hard across the face. I collected the money with a satisfied smile, looking at Tiffany, who was now reeling from the slap. Tiffany dared not speak. She clutched her swollen cheek, all her fury transferring to me. As we walked out of the police station, she pointed at me, her voice trembling with hatred. “You wait!” I met her gaze expressionlessly. Tiffany’s eyes flickered, but she defiantly held my stare. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll wait.” 6. Back at school, the principal called both Tiffany and me into his office. He began with a perfunctory scolding of Tiffany, then spun around to chastise me. “Were you hurt? No, you weren’t! So why didn’t you seek help from the school immediately?” “The school’s teachers would have protected you! Why insist on taking it to the police station? How will others view our school now? What if our enrollment rates are affected next year?” At that moment, the principal’s phone rang. He answered it, his voice immediately becoming obsequious. “Yes, yes, absolutely! You can count on me!” “Don’t worry, sir! I’ll handle everything.” After hanging up, the principal reverted to his stern demeanor. Only this time, he was much gentler with Tiffany and went to great lengths to criticize me. He lectured, “Tiffany merely wanted to have a heart-to-heart with you, a friendly chat. But you insulted her, which made her angry and led her to throw the bubble tea. That’s perfectly natural, completely understandable!” “And you, not only did you show no appreciation, but you verbally abused Tiffany. You even called the police, blowing a small incident out of proportion, causing the school to lose face because of you!” “I’m telling you, you must call your parents here today! And you will apologize to Tiffany in front of the entire school!” I had watched the principal with an impassive face throughout, but at this, I burst into laughter, almost hysterically. That call must have been from Tiffany’s father. Oh, a father in office, who doesn’t have one? I nodded. “Alright, I’ll call my father right now.” I pulled out my phone and, right in front of them, called Mr. Sterling-Hayes. My father answered cheerfully at first, asking how I was, telling me Lily was adapting well, and that she hoped I’d come home soon. But his cheerful chatter was abruptly cut short by my tearful voice. I choked out, “Dad, I’ve been bullied.” My father’s garrulous voice fell silent. From childhood, I had always been an undemanding, high-achieving child. Even though a Sterling-Hayes child didn’t need to be. In fact, among my peers in high society, I was always the one leading the pack. My father would never have imagined that I, of all people, would be bullied here. Mr. Sterling-Hayes’s voice was tight with suppressed rage. “Isabelle, it’s alright. Don’t be afraid. We’re coming right away!” “I’ll call the butler first. You just…” Before he finished, I heard an anxious female voice from the other end of the line. It was Lily. Her voice, tear-choked and hoarse, cried, “Dad! Sister must have been bullied by that group too! Please, go save Sister quickly! It’s all my fault for not warning her…” It was then that Mr. Sterling-Hayes realized Lily had also been bullied at this school, and now, the same group was targeting his eldest daughter. The sounds on the other end of the line dissolved into a cacophony. I faintly heard my mother’s voice as well. Not long after, my call ended, and the principal’s phone rang. I watched, bit by bit, as his expression shifted from bewilderment to sheer terror, followed by a torrent of apologies. Tiffany, confused, watched the principal. Only I, dropping the feigned sob, slowly allowed a smile to bloom on my face. 7. Soon after, officials from higher up began to arrive, then even higher authorities… My father, my mother, they all arrived. The principal trembled like a leaf. Tiffany’s father stood beside him, head bowed, offering endless apologies. My father, meanwhile, sat in the main chair, slowly sipping his tea. Only my mother and I knew this was the ominous calm before his storm of fury. My father spoke. “My two daughters, both of them, suffered varying degrees of bullying under your care.” “And you swept it all under the rug. If Isabelle hadn’t called me this time, we would have remained completely in the dark.” The group began to apologize profusely, especially the principal and Tiffany’s father, their heads practically scraping the floor. Tiffany stared at her father, dumbfounded, weeping incessantly. She probably never imagined such a day would come when she bullied her classmates. I watched these people with cold eyes. Tiffany’s father, who abused his power, was now facing a greater authority. The principal, ever the opportunist, was now confronted by a higher power. My father, having served in politics for many years, never abused his power lightly. He was a man of unimpeachable integrity, which is why he had risen to such a prominent position. This time, if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have acted like this. My father was a senior government official, and my mother was the head of a financial conglomerate. That was why I could resolve this situation so easily. But what about ordinary children in a small town? What about Lily before she was found? What recourse did they have? Amidst the chorus of bowing and scraping apologies, I slowly clenched my fists. The matter was resolved swiftly. The principal was dismissed, the local education authority launched a comprehensive review of the school’s conduct, and Tiffany’s father was fired from his post. Tiffany and her entire bullying clique were expelled. As she packed her things to leave the classroom, I, in front of the entire class, delivered a resounding slap across her face. Everyone exchanged bewildered glances, unsure what had happened. Tiffany merely clutched her face, her head bowed, not daring to look at me, let alone retaliate. I withdrew my hand, my voice glacial. “Tiffany, that slap was for Lily.” Tiffany snapped her head up, her eyes wide with shock. She seemed to recall something, shaking her head vigorously. “No! No! Lily… Lily can’t be your sister…” “She was just…” Tiffany trailed off. Just what? Just a poor student whose parents had died? Just a frail girl who had been bullied by you for two years and couldn’t fight back? Tiffany fled in disarray. I watched her retreating back. Tiffany had repeatedly flaunted her power in front of me, saying, “You wait, I’ll find someone to teach you a lesson.” This time, I whispered silently to myself, You wait, Tiffany. Did you think this was the end? Did you think the torment my sister suffered for so long could simply be erased by your escape? Dream on. 8. My parents were busy; they couldn’t stay away from NYC for too long. Before they left, my father asked if I wanted to return with them. I looked at their worried eyes and smiled, shaking my head. “Just one more month,” I said with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. Give my regards to Andy and Lily. Tell them not to worry about me either.” My mother sighed, patting my shoulder. “I know you’re a strong-willed child, and I probably have an idea why you came here.” “Mom trusts you, but if anything happens, you must tell us.” I nodded, smiling as I watched my parents depart in their private car. After a day of rest back at the cottage, I returned to school as usual. The moment I entered the classroom, I was met with a barrage of stares and questions. “Isabelle, how did you do it? You actually got Tiffany expelled! That’s incredible!” “Are you involved with some gang outside of school? Or did they get expelled because you called the police?” “No, that’s not right. Other people called the police before, but since they were minors, nothing much happened…” The incident was, after all, rather unsavory, and with all the various authorities involved, most students didn’t know how it was truly resolved. They only knew that Tiffany and her group had been expelled, and the school suddenly had a new principal. I shook my head, ignoring their chatter. I simply settled into my seat and resumed working on practice problems. Victoria secretly watched me for a long time before finally gathering the courage to ask, “Isabelle, are you alright…?” I paused, then shook my head, speaking softly. “I’m fine.” She nodded, adjusting her glasses. “Mid-term exams are coming soon. You should really focus on studying.” I couldn’t help but smile, telling her, “You too. Work hard.” Victoria’s face flushed visibly. She gave a little cough, as if to compose herself, then bent her head to her own studies. The first mid-term exam was fast approaching. After a few days of practice tests, I began skipping classes frequently. After my parents’ intervention, the new class teacher and principal discreetly turned a blind eye to my absences. I had a reason for skipping classes. The evening self-study session the day before the mid-term exams, a boy suddenly exclaimed. “Oh my God, do you know what happened to Tiffany?” “Huh? Didn’t she get expelled?” “Yeah… After she got expelled, her life went to hell. I heard someone beat her up, and her dad’s gambling everywhere now, can’t pay his debts. He just married her off to some guy.” “Goodness, to think of how arrogant she used to be… it’s quite a fall, isn’t it?” “What’s there to sigh about? Have you forgotten how many people she bullied? Remember Lily Dawson from our class, she was bullied so badly she got depressed and transferred schools!” “You’re right…” I propped my chin on my hand, my eyes lowered, watching the pen twirl between my fingers, listening quietly to their discussion without speaking. I opened my phone and clicked on the contact named “Lily.” I concisely updated her on their current situation. After a long pause, I received her reply. “Thank you, Sister.” 9. I secured the top score in the entire school for the mid-term exams. The entire school erupted in shock. Especially my classmates. Our class was practically at the bottom of the school’s rankings, so for a student from it to suddenly achieve the top score was astonishing. Moreover, I had been frequently skipping classes lately and hadn’t exactly been seen as a diligent student. Students from other classes only knew me as the transfer student who had fought with the school’s delinquents and gotten them all expelled by calling the police. Adding to that, I was in a low-ranking class, and the top students from the advanced classes felt their pride stung. Consequently, rumors that I had cheated to get the top score began to spread like wildfire. Victoria sat beside me, staring at her own report card showing a rank of 236. I could almost see the veins bulging on her forehead. Just as I was about to offer some comfort, Victoria suddenly tore her report card into shreds with a violent rip, then buried her face in her arms on the desk, sobbing uncontrollably. Everyone was startled. Several girls who were close to Victoria quickly gathered around her, trying to console her. They offered tissues, fetched water, bustling about for a while until Victoria finally lifted her head, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed. She glanced at me, then was led away by her friends to the hallway for a heart-to-heart. It wasn’t until the bell for the next study session rang that Victoria returned, her eyes still puffy. I looked at her and asked, “Would you like me to go over any of the questions you got wrong?” Victoria snapped her head up, staring at me with a strange expression. Her skin was sallow, and her face was dotted with acne. Yet, her desk was spotless, every book neatly categorized and arranged. I could see that she was genuinely striving to achieve something, which is why I offered. But Victoria shook her head, saying it wasn’t necessary. I understood. I wasn’t particularly keen on being overly helpful; if she declined, that was that. My phone vibrated numerous times in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a familiar sequence of numbers: thirteen missed calls. My gaze froze on the caller ID. Andy. My non-biological brother, who had watched over me for seventeen years. From childhood, I never feared my parents, nor anyone in my social circle. Only Andy. It could be said that my academic achievements, my courage, and even my personality had all been shaped under his rigorous guidance. And my move to Oakhaven this time had, naturally, been kept a secret from Andy, who was studying abroad. Now, after a month, my secret was clearly out. I took a deep breath, closed my phone, and pretended not to have seen it. Then, I silently prayed Andy wouldn’t storm the school. 10. On Monday, as the top student in the school, I was to deliver a speech at the assembly. I wore my freshly issued school uniform, my hair tied back in a neat ponytail, looking like any other student who belonged to this school. I walked to the high platform. I delivered a formal, practically foolproof speech. The auditorium was utterly silent. Until I finished my last sentence, just before stepping down, a murmur suddenly rose from the audience. “She cheated to get first place!” This single sentence, like a pebble dropped into still water, instantly ignited a torrent of whispers. “Oh, really? Is that true?” “It must be! I heard she never studies in class, and she skips all the time.” “I also saw her being picked up and dropped off by a fancy car! She must be a sugar baby!” “Yeah! I think I saw that too! And her clothes and bags were so expensive! She could only afford them if some old man was paying for her!” “Maybe she’s connected to the street gangs, that’s why she could get Tiffany and them expelled.” “She probably pulled strings to get into our school, and then cheated to get first place. How shameless…” The murmurs grew louder, the words sharper, more biting. Those spreading rumors, those repeating them, those simply enjoying the spectacle, those stirring the pot… thousands of eyes below fixed on me, all waiting for my reaction. They anticipated seeing me embarrassed, angry, sad, or ashamed. I could even clearly see the widening smiles on the faces of some of the more malicious onlookers. However, I disappointed them. I maintained my perfectly polite, detached smile, devoid of any discernible emotion, and walked off the stage. The teachers quickly moved to restore order, and the murmuring slowly faded. But gossip, once ignited, does not simply vanish because teachers tell students to be quiet. On the contrary, after that speech, the rumors about me intensified. They claimed I cheated, that I was a kept woman, that my designer clothes were fake, and so on. Some students from other classes even came to peer through our classroom window, openly discussing me in loud whispers. I ignored them, merely frowning and closing the window. Perhaps because they had witnessed my confrontation with Tiffany, my own classmates mostly refrained from open discussion. Victoria even helped me by scolding the students from other classes who were gawking through the window. After she finished scolding them, she turned to look at me, her gaze fixed, seemingly searching for some emotion on my face. I guessed she hoped to see gratitude, perhaps even a hint of sorrow, pain, or shame. Unfortunately, I maintained my composed, almost aloof expression. This seemingly stung Victoria. She met my gaze for two seconds, a flicker of dissatisfaction on her face. She couldn’t help but speak. “Isabelle, don’t you have anything to explain?” I propped my chin on my hand, my voice faint. “Explain what? Explain that the people spreading rumors in the audience were the same ‘friends’ who comforted you and chatted with you in the hallway that day?” Victoria’s composure faltered, then she quickly feigned calmness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I… I need to work on my problems.” She avoided my gaze, lowering her head and scribbling aimlessly on her paper. I smiled, a hint of faint mockery in my voice. “Victoria, you look truly pathetic.” This remark seemed to strike a nerve. Victoria’s head snapped up, and she retorted sharply, her voice nearing a shriek, “I am not! If I hadn’t cheated, I worked so much harder than you! Why didn’t I score higher than you?” “You’re just relying on your money! If I had money and was pretty, I’d be much better than you!” “Why do you look down on me?!” Her voice was shrill, almost hoarse. Only when she finished did I speak. “Don’t attribute your misfortunes to me. Did I make you poor? Did I make your grades worse than mine? I’m first, you’re two hundred places behind. Surpass them before you even talk about me.” “I don’t look down on you,” I said with a smile. “I’ve never even truly noticed you.” “You’re not worth it.” Victoria was speechless. She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. This time, no one came to comfort her. Her crying annoyed me. I turned to ponder how to resolve this situation and return home at the appropriate time. Suddenly, two familiar figures appeared at the classroom door. I froze, instinctively standing up, and called out to the person at the doorway. “Brother.” 11. Andy’s face was grim. It had been years since I’d seen him look so utterly furious, and a shiver of apprehension ran down my spine. Thankfully, Lily, standing behind Andy, came forward, her eyes red-rimmed, and grasped my hand, calling me ‘Sister.’ I couldn’t help but offer her a gentle smile, stroking her hair. At this point, the entire class had recognized Lily, and the room erupted into chaos. “Oh my God, what’s going on?!” “Lily Dawson and Isabelle Sterling-Hayes are sisters?! So Isabelle came here specifically to get revenge for Lily?” “My heavens! This is intense!” “No, wait. Lily used to look so poor. How can she be sisters with Isabelle?” “Who knows! Is it just me, or did anyone else notice that boy? He looks like their brother! He’s so handsome!” Andy took my hand, squeezing my palm in a disciplinary gesture. Then, he swept his gaze around the classroom, and towards the many onlookers in the hallway, raising an eyebrow. “Isabelle’s transfer here was indeed for a specific purpose. Now that her business is largely concluded, she’s here today to bid you all farewell.” “We’re taking her back to NYC.” “I’ve heard all the rumors circulating in the school. Perhaps our family’s chauffeur-driven car appears extravagant to you, but wealthy families also have daughters.” “Isabelle’s academic achievements are well-known in NYC. Her grades, painstakingly cultivated over fifteen years with our family’s substantial investment, have now, in your mouths, become ‘cheating.’” “Should anyone continue to spread baseless rumors, we shall meet in court.” With that, Andy pulled us away. Before leaving, I turned my head to glance at Victoria. She sat at her desk, tears streaming down her face, staring blankly at us as we departed. The rest of the class continued their discussions, gasps, and general pandemonium. But all of that no longer concerned us. 12. Upon returning to NYC. Andy gave me a thorough dressing-down, but then, with a softening heart, he took Lily and me out for a lavish meal. Lily clung to me, so I tutored her daily. She insisted we had to get into the same university. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling-Hayes treated all three of us equally, without a hint of favoritism. Lily became increasingly cheerful and vibrant, a stark contrast to the timid, slender girl she once was. In fact, she even became a little bit plump from my constant feeding. A year later, she successfully gained admission to the same university as me. Together, we embarked on our new university life. Before we left, I asked Lily if she still felt troubled by the past. She shook her head, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “Sister, all those people received their due punishment. And I’ve mostly forgotten about it now. It’s time to embrace a new life.” “And, the most, most, most fortunate thing is that fate made you my sister!” I smiled too, taking her hand as we stepped into the university campus.

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