Category: English

My wife, Sarah, was laying it on thick last night. I thought our marriage was about to turn a corner. Then I overheard her girlfriends teasing her. “So, how’s it going? When are you gonna get with the new college intern from the office?” Sarah burst out laughing. “I’ve been practicing hard, I’m in top form. Getting with a younger guy will be a piece of cake.” In the video call, everyone was howling, egging her on to film it. Right after that, Sarah, an architect, suddenly bailed on our Memorial Day weekend plans, saying she had to go out of town to oversee a project and couldn’t travel with me. But that same afternoon, I saw a video her intern, Kevin, posted on his social media feed. Sarah, who usually wouldn’t know which end of a hammer to hold, was there, covered in dust, mixing cement and laying bricks. The caption read: “Having an architect girlfriend is awesome. Don’t even need to hire workers to build a house!” I let out a cold laugh, liked it, and commented: “Professional job.” The company group chat blew up instantly. Colleagues were screenshotting and forwarding it, speculating when I’d lose it. When Sarah called, her voice was ice cold. “What the hell did you mean by that comment? How is Kevin supposed to show his face at work now?” “His family’s garden wall collapsed back home. So I helped him fix it, what’s the big deal? You, spoiled rotten by your parents, you wouldn’t understand real hardship.” “Delete that comment right now, and I promise I’ll make it up to you next holiday.” Next time? I scoffed and hung up. After Memorial Day weekend, the waiting period for the divorce would be over. … That was the first time I’d ever hung up on Sarah Hayes. I didn’t need to guess; she’d be furious. Sure enough, my phone started buzzing immediately. I declined the call and blocked her. Finally, some peace. “Mr. Miller, your table for two is ready, and the kitchen has started on your order. Will you be waiting, or…?” I glanced at the empty seat across from me. “She’s not coming. You can bring the food.” Ignoring the waiter’s pitying look, I looked down at my phone. A new message popped up in the work group chat. The intern, Kevin Chen, tagged everyone: “My post today was a bit inappropriate, sorry if it caused any misunderstanding.” That wasn’t an apology; it was a brag. I sneered. In the chat, Sarah quickly followed up: “You were just joking around. No need to apologize. Only someone petty would misunderstand.” With the lead designer setting the tone, colleagues came out of the woodwork to agree: “Yeah, yeah, we all knew you were kidding. No need to apologize.” “Thanks to Kevin, we got to see Sarah’s skills in action!” “Haha, there’s probably only one petty person in this chat, we all know who!” My colleagues were all sharp. They saw who the boss favored and sided accordingly, all defending Kevin. And me, the pitiful husband, was not only ignored but became the target of their ridicule. Even the protégé I’d personally mentored was sucking up to Kevin along with the others. After all, Sarah Hayes was the head of the company, and Kevin Chen was her new favorite. And I, the guy who’d invested his entire fortune to co-found the company, was just a freeloader in their eyes, a kept husband. I turned off my phone screen, set it aside. Out of sight, out of mind. I was determined to enjoy my holiday. But I’d barely taken a few bites when Mike, my assistant, sent a voice message, his tone aggressive: “Ethan, where are those blueprints I asked you to draw a few days ago? Why haven’t you submitted them?” “Which project?” I frowned slightly. To make time for the trip with Sarah, I’d pulled two all-nighters before the holiday, finishing all my assigned drawings. There couldn’t be any left. Mike said impatiently, “The Kingston project.” My frown deepened. “Didn’t Kevin take that one?” “Yeah, but he got sick and went back to his hometown. Sarah said you’d do the drawings. Ethan, can you hurry it up? The client’s breathing down our necks.” I almost laughed out loud. This was a major project, way out of an intern’s league. But Kevin, greedy for the big payout from a major project, had asked for it. And Sarah, completely smitten with him, actually gave it to him. What could Kevin, an intern with less than a year at the company and no real experience, possibly draw? No wonder he suddenly went “back home” – he cracked under the pressure and bailed. “When did Sarah say I was doing it? Besides, I’m out right now, I don’t have my computer. If the client’s pushing, tell them to talk to the boss.” With that, I hung up before he could reply and turned off my phone. Ridiculous. She was off in the countryside fooling around with her lover, while I was supposed to be here slaving over drawings? I expressionlessly cut my steak into small pieces and stuffed them into my mouth. Unexpectedly, five minutes later, the waiter hurried over with a landline phone: “Mr. Miller, your wife is on the line.” She just wouldn’t quit… I took a deep breath, took the phone. Sarah’s voice was like ice: “Ethan Miller, have I been spoiling you too much?” “What’s this, Ms. Hayes? Calling just to yell at me?” I speared a piece of steak with my fork, my tone cool. “I admit bailing on you was my fault, but that doesn’t mean you can push your luck.” “You have until I count to three to unblock my number. Otherwise, this marriage is over.” My hand slowly clenched into a fist. How had I never noticed before how sharp and cruel Sarah’s words could be? Just as I was about to say something, I faintly heard Kevin’s voice in the background, sounding like he was calling Sarah in for dinner. I laughed. “What, you went home to meet his parents and still find time to call me? Aren’t you afraid people will misunderstand?” “Oh, right. In the whole company, only I, the petty one, would misunderstand.” Sarah snapped, “Kevin’s family isn’t well off, he’s had a tough life. As his mentor, what’s wrong with me helping him out a bit? Why are you throwing a tantrum?” Footsteps approached on her end, and Kevin’s voice became clearer: “Sarah, Mom’s got dinner ready. Come on in and eat.” I heard Sarah’s voice soften as she moved away from the phone: “I just need to discuss some work. You go ahead and eat, I’ll be right there.” The next second, she was close to the mouthpiece again, her voice chilling: “I want those drawings by the end of Memorial Day. That’s the client’s hard deadline. If you can’t deliver by the fifth, pack your things and get out.” The line went dead. I realized I had been terribly wrong. Wrong to think a trip could mend our already broken marriage. The moment Sarah had thrown those signed divorce papers in my face, I should have faced reality. I stood up, grabbed my jacket, paid the bill, and left. Back at my hotel, I turned my phone on. Messages flooded in, all work-related. Countless people had tagged me, sending a barrage of files, demanding I give them initial designs and specs ASAP. It seemed genuinely urgent. But the divorce would be final in three days. Why should I care anymore? I didn’t even look at them. I left the group chat, typed up my resignation, found HR’s contact, and sent her the file. HR was surprised, said she couldn’t approve it without checking with Sarah. I braced myself for a confrontation with Sarah, but less than half a minute later, HR replied. “Sarah said okay.” Sarah was even more ruthless than I’d thought. But it was a good thing. I let out a genuine sigh of relief. Without all that company crap, I felt instantly lighter. After three days of thoroughly enjoying myself, I flew home. As I expected, Sarah wasn’t there. The large living room was eerily quiet, looking just as it did when it was first decorated, devoid of any warmth. It’s funny, this apartment felt more like a hotel than the one I’d stayed in the night before. This wasn’t the house we bought when we got married. The marital home I’d bought outright with my own money was sold long ago to fund Sarah’s company. This current place was acquired two years ago when a client, who’d stiffed us on a design fee, offered it as payment instead. It was in my name. I often worked late, so I wasn’t home much. Sarah was home even less, jetting around the country with Kevin, supposedly on business trips. But judging from the intern’s social media posts over the past year, they were clearly just wining and dining everywhere. Pushing aside annoying thoughts, I contacted a realtor and listed the apartment online. The market in this neighborhood was hot recently; the realtor said it would sell within a week, and for a good price. The price didn’t matter. I just didn’t want to keep anything connected to Sarah. The next morning, I went to the office to pack my things. Colleagues were subtly watching me, huddling together and whispering. News of my resignation had clearly spread. I ignored them, went through the exit procedures, and headed to my workstation to pack. I picked up a framed photo from my desk – a picture of me and Sarah, taken when we first started the company. Both of us had bright smiles, but the dark circles under our eyes were so prominent we looked like we were cosplaying pandas. It couldn’t be helped; the company was just starting out, and only she and I could do the drafting. We were like spinning tops back then, barely daring to close our eyes, just drawing day and night. Terrified of missing a deadline. We got through those tough times… My thoughts returned to the present. I casually tossed the photo into the trash can. Just as I was about to leave, Kevin’s voice came from behind: “Ethan, are the drawings for the Kingston project done yet?” I turned around. His young, innocent-looking face came into view. Seeing the box in my arms, he feigned surprise: “Oh… Ethan, are you resigning?” Why ask when you already know? I replied coolly, “Yeah, I am. Are you blind?” The smile froze on Kevin’s face. He changed the subject, asking for the drawings again. I found it strange. I’d already resigned, what drawings did I owe him? He could draw them himself. “But Sarah told you to submit them by the fifth…” “Then go ask her for them. I don’t have them.” I turned to leave with my box, but Kevin rushed to block my path. I sidestepped him to leave, but he suddenly collapsed as if having a seizure. “Aah—” “Kevin! Are you okay?!” Seeing this, Sarah rushed over, anxiously helped Kevin up, and after checking him for injuries, breathed a sigh of relief. She glared at me furiously. “Can’t you just talk things out? Why did you have to push him? Apologize to Kevin right now!” Kevin, pale-faced, tried to soothe her, “Sarah, don’t be angry. I was just too anxious about the Kingston project. It’s not Ethan’s fault, he just accidentally…” He mentioned the project, and Sarah instantly remembered today was the sixth. Her brow furrowed. “If you hadn’t reminded me, I would have forgotten. Ethan Miller, where are those drawings you were supposed to do? Why haven’t you submitted them yet?” “I’ve resigned. What drawings?” I retorted. “Resigned? Ethan, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? You can’t produce the drawings, so you’re threatening me with resignation, is that it?” That was a strange thing to say. She herself had approved my resignation, and now she was accusing me of threatening her? Before I could speak, she strode over and slapped the box out of my arms. My belongings scattered across the floor. “Company documents are confidential. Who gave you permission to take them out?” Her voice was icy, her eyes blazing as if looking at an enemy. “If you want to leave, you can leave now. But these things need to be inspected first.” Nearby, colleagues craned their necks, watching the drama unfold. My face burned, my fists clenched tightly. Right now, I really, really wanted to land a punch squarely on that face I once loved to death. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and managed to calm down. “I don’t want the stuff anymore. You can throw it all away. Goodbye.” I threw out the words and turned to leave. As I neared the exit, someone snickered: “Haha, overplayed his hand. Thought he was so important to the company, huh? Bet he’s stunned now that Ms. Hayes kicked him out.” It was that male colleague who was always gossiping about me. I spun on my heel, strode over to him, grabbed the slice of cake he’d scrounged off someone from their desk, and unceremoniously smashed it right in his face. “Didn’t you brush your teeth this morning? Your breath stinks.” Seeing him standing there, dumbfounded, with cake all over his face, my mood lifted considerably. I turned and walked out of the company. Sarah’s car was parked downstairs. I’d given it to her when we got married. Lately, Kevin had been driving it. Just yesterday, I saw Kevin post on social media that Sarah was planning to transfer the car’s ownership to him, any day now. Logically, what someone does with a gift is none of my business. But it just made me sick. I grabbed a loose brick from the roadside and did a number on the car, wrecking it pretty thoroughly, until a security guard heard the commotion and came running, shouting. Only then did I drop the “weapon” and bolt. I didn’t care if I was caught on camera. The satisfaction was worth it. Leaving the office, I drove to the county clerk’s office and, before dark, successfully obtained the divorce certificate I’d longed for. Finally, free from this miserable marriage. I got to my front door, happily about to open it, when I suddenly heard voices from inside. Sarah’s parents had arrived. “That Ethan Miller is a real piece of work!” Sarah’s father was railing against me in the living room. “Your mother and I came all this way, and he didn’t even bother to pick us up. Kevin’s more thoughtful.” Sarah’s mother chimed in, “Didn’t you say he also threw a fit and smashed your car? Oh dear, I hope he doesn’t have a violent streak… You can’t keep a man like that. Divorce him sooner rather than later.” “Besides, that Kevin boy is so charming and sensible, and young too. He’s definitely in better shape than Ethan. We might finally get those grandkids we’ve been hoping for, right?” My hand rested on the doorknob, hesitating to push it open. When we first got married, her parents’ attitude towards me wasn’t like this. Later, as the company grew successful, they began to look down on me more and more. “I’m busy with work lately, not in a hurry to have kids.” Sarah’s voice drifted through the door. She wasn’t rejecting her parents’ suggestion, just commenting on the timing of having children. “Even if you’re not in a hurry, wouldn’t it be better to have someone who’s considerate to you and knows how to respect his elders?” “He hasn’t spoken to his own family in years, just mooches off his wife’s company all day. That’s not what I call a responsible man.” Sarah’s mother spoke of me with utter disdain, then said to Sarah, as if exasperated, “At least Kevin seems much better than that Miller guy. Sweetheart, shouldn’t you pick a man who’s good to you? Look at him, busy in the kitchen right now, he clearly knows how to take care of someone.” “And this jade bracelet I’m wearing? He bought it for me. And when he heard your dad’s leg was bothering him, he even bought a special therapeutic device for him…” I chuckled. Over the years, I’d given my in-laws plenty of gifts, any one of which was more expensive than those two items. And what was the result? They didn’t remember any of my kindness, and still thought I just sponged off their daughter’s money. No need to hear any more. I pushed the door open and walked in. Seeing me suddenly appear, the three of them froze. I ignored them and started walking towards the bedroom, but Sarah stopped me. “Ethan Miller, stop right there. You see my parents and don’t even greet them?” Sarah’s father snorted heavily. “Almost thirty, and still doesn’t have the social graces of a fresh college graduate. He’s really regressing.” Sarah’s mother crossed her legs, shot me a venomous glare, and sneered, “No sense of responsibility, just knows how to live off his wife all day. Truly shameless.” I paused, turned my head, and asked Sarah calmly, “My resignation, didn’t you tell your parents about it?” Sarah frowned. “I’ll contact the client about the Kingston project later and try to get you a few more days, okay? Constantly threatening me with resignation is really childish.” I found her ridiculous. “My resignation paperwork is all finalized. You think I’m threatening you?” Her mother’s eyes darted around, then she snapped, “What’s this? You plan to dump the whole company on my daughter while you loll around at home leeching off her? You’re truly shameless!” Sarah’s expression changed slightly. “I never approved it. How did you process the paperwork?” Still putting on an act at this point? I was speechless. This family of weirdos was truly difficult to communicate with. “Ethan, you’re back! Sorry, hope you don’t mind me using your kitchen. I made a bunch of my specialties today. Come sit down and try some.” Just then, Kevin emerged from the kitchen carrying a dish. Seeing me, he eagerly played the host. He looked as if he were the man of the house. I gave him a dismissive glance, not bothering to acknowledge him. I had no time for this male green tea bitch. Sarah’s father immediately bristled. “Sarah, look at that! Kevin kindly invites him to eat, and he doesn’t even have basic manners. He’s unbelievably arrogant.” Kevin looked overwhelmed by the attention, waving his hands frantically to explain, “No, no, Ethan’s always like this with me. It’s just that I’m not good enough…” Sarah’s mother couldn’t stand it anymore, slapped her thigh, and stood up. “Alright, I’ll say it! Ethan Miller, you know the situation between our families now. If you have any shame left, you’ll divorce our Sarah immediately.” “Mom.” Sarah frowned slightly, then turned to scrutinize me up and down. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be a divorce… You’ve been acting very strangely lately. You refused to do the drawings I asked, you attacked Kevin, and you threw a tantrum and smashed the car.” “Ethan Miller, are you having some kind of mental breakdown?” She cheated on me, and now she thought I was mentally ill? I sneered. “I think you’re the one who’s lost her mind.” As they all stared, stunned, I slapped the divorce certificate down on the table. “Here’s the divorce you wanted. Can you all shut up now?”

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My best friend was a prankfluencer, and she’d gone viral for humiliating people online. On my birthday, she gave me a giant cake. After I blew out the candles, she reached out, intending to smash my head into it. But instead, it was her eyes that were pierced and blinded by the cake’s support pillars. 1 “Happy birthday, Daisy!” My so-called best friend placed an enormous cake in front of me, and everyone around us gasped at Skylar’s extravagant gesture. I looked up, my face beaming with feigned excitement at Skylar. “Skylar, thank you! You’re just too good to me.” My sugary compliments always worked wonders on Skylar, and she immediately started boasting about her gift to her phone. I subtly glanced at Skylar’s screen from the corner of my eye. The chat was flooded with comments. Of course, she was live-streaming. At everyone’s urging, I closed my eyes to make a wish. The excited chatter of the crowd buzzed around me, each voice a stark reminder that I’d been given a second chance. I made no wish. My mind was consumed by the agonizing memory of my cruel death in the previous life. If I had one wish, it was for Skylar to experience everything I had endured, in excruciating detail. I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and blew out the candles, my gaze fixed on Skylar’s movements. “Alright, everyone, today’s all about Daisy! Don’t hold back, let’s get this party started!” Just as expected, Skylar leaned forward, reaching a hand out towards the back of my head. I seized the moment, ducking down just before her hand could connect. I casually picked up a fork from the floor, feigning mild annoyance. “Oh, darn it. We already have so many people, and now a fork’s on the floor. Not enough to go around!” Then, I watched the scene unfolding before me in feigned shock. “Ah!” With a startled shriek, Skylar, due to her own momentum, tumbled forward, headfirst into the cake. Karma, perhaps, that her face landed right in the center of it. I repeated Skylar’s words from my past life, keeping the upbeat energy going. “Hahaha, looks like Skylar really wanted a piece of that cake, she just dove right in!” The room erupted in laughter, everyone teasing Skylar mercilessly. “Skylar, you’re so greedy! It’s not even your birthday, why are you hogging the cake?” Several hands eagerly pressed Skylar’s head down further, ensuring the cream was spread even more evenly. I glanced at Skylar’s live-streaming phone; the live chat was a sea of ‘LOLs’ and ‘Hahas.’ 2 But Skylar kept her head buried in the cake, not rising. A guy who loved being in the thick of things reached out, grabbed Skylar’s hair, and yanked her upright. This sent a splatter of cream everywhere, making everyone recoil a few steps. Skylar’s face was covered in cake cream, her perfectly applied makeup utterly ruined. But Skylar’s eyes were tightly shut, her whole body swaying precariously. Everyone was still cracking jokes about her appearance when Skylar suddenly snapped her eyes open. Her gaze was unfocused, and her state clearly off. I knew that feeling—she was about to pass out. What was truly horrifying, though, was the fresh blood welling from her left eye. This gruesome sight left the attention-seeking guy frozen in shock. “It wasn’t me! I just tried to pull her out! You all saw it, you have to vouch for me!” The guy immediately let go of Skylar, frantically explaining himself to the onlookers. Deprived of his support, Skylar collapsed onto the table with a thud. Seeing that the spectacle had gone far enough, I urgently spoke up. “Enough chatter! Call an ambulance!” That finally jolted everyone, and they scrambled for their phones to dial 911. I thoughtfully picked up Skylar’s live-streaming phone, turning it to the camera and apologizing to the viewers. “I’m so sorry, everyone, there’s been an accident. The live stream might have to end here. I need to go to the hospital with Skylar.” A stream of concerned comments scrolled by, interspersed with praises for me. “This girl is so sweet! Suddenly feel bad about all those pranks we pulled on her before.” I stared at that comment, a momentary flicker of distraction. Just as I was about to end the stream, the screen was flooded with “DON’T END IT! WE WANT UPDATES!” I mused for a few seconds, then decisively agreed. 3 “Daisy, how are my eyes?” Skylar finally woke up, her left eye wrapped in a thick bandage. My expression grave, eyes brimming with tears, I delivered the devastating news. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. The doctor said your left eye will most likely be permanently blind. The pillar went too deep. It’s a miracle you even survived.” At my words, Skylar froze, utterly stunned. I reached out, wanting to take her hand and comfort her, but she violently flung it away. I let myself fall to the floor with the motion, wrapping my arms around my knees and quietly weeping. “Don’t pretend to care! This is all your fault! If you hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t be blind!” I hung my head in shame, my voice thick with feigned tears, as I apologized. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. If I had known, I’d have rather been blind myself than let this happen to you.” My heartfelt apology seemed to remind Skylar of something, and she suddenly became stiff. I continued my act of misery. “Skylar, don’t worry, I’ll definitely help you find a way to heal your eye.” Skylar, however, abruptly changed the subject, frantically searching for her phone. I pointed to her live-streaming phone in the distance, explaining what had happened. Skylar’s face instantly contorted, and she snapped at me to bring her the phone immediately. “How dare you touch someone else’s things without permission? This is so annoying!” I meekly took the phone from its stand, only to see the comments now fiercely defending me. “What’s wrong with Skylar? Daisy’s been running around for her, handling hospital admission, even lending money for upfront fees, and this is how she repays her? Seriously ungrateful!” “Yeah, what happened to our sweet, adorable Skylar? She’s so snappy now!” “Honestly, I’ve always found her annoying. No sense of boundaries with her pranks.” I fought to keep the triumphant smirk from twisting my lips, then handed the phone to Skylar. Skylar naturally saw the comments too, and her face became a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. Skylar quickly smoothed her hair, then turned to the camera, explaining in a syrupy, high-pitched voice. “I’m so sorry, everyone. I just lost control for a moment. Waaah, I’m just so heartbroken…” Her shrill voice and phony demeanor made my stomach churn. 4 No matter how many fans Skylar had, or how much she raked in from endorsements, medical science wasn’t going to bend to her will. On the day she was discharged, Skylar, still in denial, badgered the doctors about her condition, but still received the same grim prognosis: “Highly likely to be permanently blind.” Back in the dorm, it wasn’t a few days after she was discharged that Skylar resumed her pranking antics. These days, Skylar was constantly holding her phone, searching for new content, and I, predictably, was her new target. “Daisy, have you felt anything… different these past few days?” “Daisy, have you washed your hair recently?” She should have looked pitiful with the bandage wrapped around her eye, but all I saw on her face was a chilling delight. I shook my head, feigning complete bewilderment. Skylar’s face fell, just as expected. Then I suddenly spoke up. “Oh, you know, now that you mention it, I have been feeling a bit tired and noticed some hair loss lately.” Skylar’s previously drooping lips instantly curved upwards. “Skylar, why are you so happy about me losing hair? Did you… do something?” 5 Just as she started to stammer out a panicked explanation, I cut her off, blocking her excuse. “Hahaha, you look so flustered! I’m just kidding with you.” Skylar’s expression relaxed. “Hahaha, Skylar, the way you look so relieved makes me even more suspicious now.” I deliberately drew out my words, savoring the wicked pleasure of watching Skylar’s pupils flicker with unease. Then I answered my own question: “Makes you wonder why you’re so easy to trick, hahaha. You’re just too cute!” Skylar’s carefully constructed composure finally shattered under my teasing. A silent, wicked chuckle rose within me. Oh, you want to see hair loss, do you? This time, you’ll get an eyeful. 6 “Argh! Why is so much of my hair falling out?!” Skylar’s shriek shattered the dorm’s peace. The other roommates peered out, curious about the commotion. Skylar stumbled out of the bathroom, clutching a large clump of dark hair in her hand. And the top of her head was now conspicuously bald in patches. The source of that tangled mass of hair in her hand was painfully obvious. “Oh my god, Skylar, I’ve only seen hair loss this bad from cancer online. Maybe you should get checked out at the hospital?” A kind roommate urged Skylar to get medical attention, but Skylar, however, wasn’t grateful in the least. She snapped back, her voice laced with venom. “Who are you wishing cancer on? You have cancer! Your whole family has cancer!” Suddenly, Skylar’s gaze swung to me. “It was you!” Her hateful glare sent a shiver down my spine, but I replied, feigning confusion. “What is it, Skylar? What about me?” Skylar’s lips worked for a few seconds, but she ultimately said nothing, only glaring at me before stomping back into the bathroom. Of course, she wouldn’t say anything. After all, this was her own handiwork; she had no one to blame but herself. Instead, the roommate who had just been attacked by Skylar came over, defending me. “Hmph, what kind of person is that? We were just trying to be nice, and she treats us like this. Seriously ungrateful!” I pitifully defended Skylar, only for my roommates to label me ‘too kind.’ That night, I saw Skylar’s shampoo bottle in the trash. A full bottle, yet it had been discarded. The reason? It wasn’t just shampoo inside that bottle. It was mixed with hair removal cream. And I, well, I had merely swapped our shampoo bottles. In my past life, I had unknowingly used the shampoo a few times, and almost all my hair had fallen out. My best friend, far from comforting me, had filmed my patchy scalp and posted it online. With its bizarre subject matter and funny editing, that video actually made Skylar go viral. Infuriated, I demanded Skylar take down the video and those humiliating photos, but she just casually brushed me off. “Don’t be so petty, Daisy. Why are you so sensitive now?” Petty? Anyone would be furious if their long hair was ruined by patchy baldness. I thought it would end there, but Skylar went further, turning my photos into memes and posting them in the school group chats. My thoughts snapped back to the present, and a new idea for my plan began to form. 7 “Ring! Ring!” Class began. It was a general education lecture, with students from several different departments. I glanced at Skylar, bundled in a hat and wig, then at the fierce wind outside the window. The weather was truly unpleasant today; branches thrashed wildly, yet the sun was blindingly bright. I turned to my classmates. “Should we open the window? I bet the breeze outside would be really refreshing.” Several roommates, eyeing the stuffy classroom, quickly nodded in agreement. Skylar, in particular, was a hundred percent on board. “Daisy, go ahead! Just try not to get yelled at by the professor.” Ever since Skylar had been the victim of her own prank, she’d grown suspicious of me, scrutinizing my every move, finding fault with everything. This time, she wanted someone else to do her dirty work, too lazy to open the window herself, yet desperate to relieve her stifling heat. After all, wearing a wig and hat in this kind of heat was pure torture. Of course, I was happy to oblige. Otherwise, the coming show wouldn’t go on. I opened the window, and a cool breeze immediately rushed into the classroom. Skylar squinted blissfully into the breeze, even lifting her hat to let the air circulate. The other students gave me a thumbs-up, but only Skylar, despite enjoying the coolness, continued to nitpick. “Tsk, tsk. Daisy’s only good for this much, I guess.” 8 “Ah!” Suddenly, a startled cry echoed. I whirled around, just in time to see a hat and wig tumbling through the air. A student in the back row, perhaps not quite seeing what the dark, flying object was, let out a startled yell. “Whoa, what the heck is that?!” Then, someone instinctively snatched it up and flung it even further. Meanwhile, Skylar frantically touched her suddenly bare scalp, terror creeping across her entire face. Seeing this, I immediately shrieked, “Oh no, Skylar’s wig flew off! Everyone, help her catch it!” My words sent Skylar into a complete breakdown, and she bolted after her wig. All I felt was a blur of motion beside me. Now, the entire class turned to stare, eyes glued to Skylar. Even the professor gaped at Skylar’s shiny scalp and the few pathetic strands of hair remaining. A few mischievous students pulled out their phones, snapping photos of Skylar’s head like crazy, and the whole situation spiraled out of control. The professor finally snapped out of it and put a stop to the chaos. But before class even ended, humiliating photos of Skylar were already flooding every campus forum. I looked down at the post on my phone: Campus Confession Page: “To Skylar from the English department: Your gleaming scalp captivates me, your frantic dash enthralls me. Please, grant me the chance to pursue you!” The post included a photo taken from an incredibly awkward angle, perfectly capturing Skylar at her baldest and most enraged. The comments section was a goldmine of hilarious and savage replies. I nearly burst out laughing, masking it with a few feigned coughs. Skylar whirled around, glaring at me, her eyes spitting fire. I flashed a wide smile. “Why are you so petty now? I was just having some fun with everyone. It’s all in jest, no malice intended.” Panting with rage, she buried her head in her arms on the desk, sobbing softly. Cruel, you ask? In my past life, when my hair had almost completely fallen out, what did Skylar do? She “accidentally” knocked my hat off in front of everyone. There were only a few people who saw it then, but Skylar deliberately kicked my hat away, then shouted at the top of her lungs: “Oh my god, Daisy, I’m so sorry! I just wanted to help you pick up your hat! Don’t worry, everyone, I’m sure nobody will laugh. It’s just hair removal cream mistaken for shampoo, right? No big deal!” After that announcement, everyone on the path swarmed around, pointing and snapping photos with their phones. What I didn’t know then was that Skylar was live-streaming the entire time. Tens of thousands witnessed my humiliation, live.

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My boyfriend had severe germophobia. In our three years of dating, even holding hands felt tinged with his disdain. Until that day, I found him pinning my best friend against a wall, kissing her fiercely. Her rosy lipstick was smeared and messy from the passionate embrace. Turns out, our three years together were nothing but a calculated ploy for him to get closer to her. His buddies joked in their group chat: “Three years of faking germophobia! Now that you’ve got the campus queen, when are you ditching the stand-in?” Liam Vance idly scrolled on his phone: “Chloe said to wait until after her birthday. She doesn’t want it to be too ugly.” I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I beat him to it, deleting all his contact info and, as an afterthought, unblocking his childhood best friend from my blacklist. 1 My best friend, Chloe, said she needed to clear her head, so I accompanied her to a karaoke bar until ten at night. When Liam came to pick her up, he frowned, staring at Chloe’s flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. “Why did you let her drink so much?” I thought he was scolding me for not taking better care of my best friend, so I quickly explained, “She’s not in a good place. I really couldn’t stop her. You watch her, I’ll go get some hangover medicine.” He walked toward Chloe on the couch, answering with an unconcerned “Mm,” without turning back. As I reached the elevator, I realized my phone was still in the private room and turned back. The moment my fingertips brushed the doorknob, soft, sticky gasps filtered from inside. I froze, peering through the glass. Liam had his hand clamped around Chloe’s waist, his head bowed, kissing her fiercely and intimately. Her lipstick was smeared to the corners of her mouth, but she hooked her arms around his neck, tilting her head back to return the kiss with fervent passion. My back pressed against the cold hallway wall, my nails digging deep into my palms. I held my breath, listening to the sounds within. A sliver of hope still lingered: Maybe it’s just a drunken mistake. Maybe I’m seeing things… Until Liam’s low, husky voice, laced with a suggestive chuckle, reached my ears: “Does it hurt to see me with her? If I’d known you cared this much, I would’ve just come clean sooner.” “No, wait until after her birthday. She is my best friend, after all,” Chloe’s voice pleaded, trailing off in a soft whine. “Whatever you want, my little darling.” He chuckled softly. “But don’t worry. When I’m with her, my mind is always on you.” “Really? Maya’s so pretty, though…” “My eyes are only for you.” His coaxing tone was so familiar it sent a chill down my spine. “As for the feelings with her—long forgotten. Nothing compares to the intensity of being with you.” 2 Those words were like ice-cold blades, carving into my heart, one by one. I clenched my fists, oblivious to my nails piercing my palms, tears streaming down my face. But I forcibly suppressed the urge to push open the door and confront them. More than a hysterical outburst, I wanted to know how long I’d been deceived. When I composed myself and returned to the room, Liam was helping Chloe towards the door. He noticed I was empty-handed, and a flicker of impatience crossed his eyes. “You forgot to even buy the medicine? Let’s take her to my place first. I have hangover soup at home.” Before, I always thought his exceptional care for my best friend was just him being caring, given that the three of us grew up together. Only now did I realize how foolish I’d been. In his guest room, I settled the sleeping Chloe. As I passed the kitchen, I stopped. Under the warm glow of the light, Liam was stirring a clay pot with a spoon, steam misting around his profile. This was the first time I’d seen him cook in our two years of living together. When we were together, he always said the kitchen was too greasy, that hands that touched raw meat made him “sick.” So, I was always the one preparing all our meals. I even spoon-fed him his stomach medicine on time. The scent of angelica root wafting from the pot now pricked my eyes with a painful sting. He wasn’t incapable of cooking; he just didn’t want to cook for me. I watched his concentrated back as he stirred the soup, and suddenly wanted to ask: If he never liked me from the start, why waste three years of my life? 3 After Chloe rested in the guest room, Liam leaned against the kitchen doorframe, wiping his hands, his tone casual: “She has class tomorrow. You can sleep on the couch tonight.” I stared at the lingering lipstick stain on his fingertips, and suddenly, I laughed. “Liam Vance, let’s break up.” He froze in the act of wiping his hands, raising an eyebrow at me. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” “No tantrum.” I pulled the key from my bag and placed it on the hallway cabinet. “From today forward, I won’t appear in front of you again.” He frowned, reaching to grab my wrist, then quickly let go as if his germophobia had flared. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to go with me for Chloe’s birthday tomorrow…” “Shouldn’t the person celebrating her birthday be you?” I cut him off. Watching his expression instantly freeze, I said softly, “I heard everything. Outside the karaoke room.” His face instantly drained of color. He reached out to pull me, but hesitated, remembering the lipstick stain on his hand, his fingers hovering in mid-air. “Maya, you listen to me, I can explain…” “No need.” I took two steps back, putting distance between us. “I wish you both a happy future together. Don’t waste each other’s time.” As I turned to leave, I heard him curse under his breath behind me, but he didn’t follow. The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell flickered, on and off. I pulled out my phone and unblocked the number I’d blacklisted three years ago. The moment the screen lit up, countless unread messages flooded in, the latest one from three months prior: “Maya, he doesn’t have germophobia at all. On your birthday, he got drunk and kissed me, saying it was just to test a lip gloss color—” The sender was Sam Wright, Liam’s childhood best friend and my former deskmate. I wouldn’t let any clue, no matter how small, slip past me again. That night, around one in the morning, Liam tossed and turned beside me, unable to fall asleep. Finally, he got up and left the room. I opened my eyes and quietly followed him. I stood outside his study, listening to him on the phone, his voice gentle and coaxing to the person on the other end: “Are you still mad at me? You haven’t replied to any of my texts.” He sighed softly: “How can I sleep when you’re still angry? “Yeah, she’s asleep. “Didn’t touch her. Don’t overthink it.” I was already numb with rage, so listening to his disgusting words didn’t provoke such a violent reaction anymore. I just couldn’t help but laugh. Laugh at how incredibly stupid I’d been. We’d been together for so long. When we argued, he’d just impatiently rub his temples, dismissively say, “Let’s cool off,” and then sleep in the guest room. Countless nights, I’d fall asleep alone, consumed by my emotions. I’d wake up with a wet pillow. See? He wasn’t some oblivious ‘man of steel’ incapable of comforting. He too could toss and turn all night because of someone else. He too could whisper soft words to a woman. It just wasn’t me he wanted to comfort. 5 I couldn’t stand to sleep next to him anymore. I secretly applied for a new dorm room with the university. One afternoon when I had no classes, I went back to pack my things. Passing the gaming room, I unintentionally overheard Liam and his friends chatting inside. “Ryan, you faked germophobia for three years with Maya. Now you’ve got the campus queen. When are you bailing?” Liam replied casually: “Soon. Chloe doesn’t want me to be too harsh. I’ll break it off after her birthday.” “You’re something else. You went through all that trouble for Chloe. You dated her best friend for three years, even rented a place and lived with her, all to find chances to see Chloe. You really played the long game.” Liam’s voice was low and steady: “I could’ve pursued her directly, but she’s too proud. She’s seen every trick in the book when it comes to dating. It would have been harder than pursuing her best friend. Might as well make it easy, pursue her best friend to provoke her instead.” His friend chuckled mockingly: “Definitely. You provoked the campus queen so much she actually threw herself at you. Legendary!” My vision suddenly went black. My chest felt like it was squeezed by a giant hand. A suffocating tightness made it hard to breathe. I’d imagined countless times how they started. But I never expected it to be so repulsive. I’d also wondered when he started liking my best friend. A few months ago, half a year ago, a year ago… But I never thought he was after her from the very beginning. He’d meticulously planned it. I was just a pawn he used to get close to Chloe. After high school, he gave up a spot at a better university, Eastern State. He filled out his application to Western College, just to be with me. I once believed that was his greatest sincerity towards me. I happily accepted his pursuit. Now, tracing the clues back, I remembered. I had personally told him. I was going to Western College with Chloe. Tears streamed down my face like broken pearls. How ironic. I sadly believed that true feelings could change. But I had never even touched the corner of his true feelings. 6 On my 21st birthday, I only invited Liam and Chloe. We celebrated simply in the apartment I’d lived in for almost three years. On the table was the cake Liam had bought me, covered in fresh, plump strawberries. Chloe spoke first: “Liam, you’re such a terrible boyfriend. Don’t you know Maya doesn’t like strawberries?” I don’t like strawberries. And he doesn’t care to remember. It didn’t matter anymore. He shrugged. “Sorry, I forgot.” I caught the fleeting glimpse of triumph in Chloe’s eyes. Strawberry cake was her favorite. My birthday cake had become a tool for their secret flirtation. I tugged at the corner of my mouth in a mocking smile. “Hurry, blow out the candles.” Chloe urged me to make a wish, her smile bright. I looked at her, seeing a stranger I’d never known before. We’d known each other for ten years, the most important friends in each other’s youth. Ten years of friendship, ruined beyond recognition, all for a man. Chloe. You want him? He’s yours. At the cost of our decade-long friendship. I closed my eyes, making my wish in a flat, calm tone: “I wish my boyfriend, Liam Vance, and my best friend, Chloe Greene, a long and happy life together, filled with love.” After I finished, the air instantly froze. A silence so profound, not a single sound. I opened my eyes, expressionless, and stared coldly at the two stunned figures: “After all, a match made in hell, destined to be together forever.” 7 In the dim, silent dining room, the candle flame flickered faintly, swayed by a draft from the window. Chloe’s choked sob broke the tense standoff between the three of us. “Maya, how could you say that about me?!” Liam took a swift step forward, shielding her behind him. His cool gaze fixed on me, his tone still unhurried: “It has nothing to do with her. I was the one who liked her, who relentlessly pursued her. If you want to blame someone, blame me alone.” I looked at his resolute eyes and couldn’t help but laugh. As I laughed, tears welled at the corners of my eyes. “Liam Vance, you’re a coward. If you liked her from the start, then why didn’t you just pursue her? Why did you have to mess with me?” He hadn’t been sure how much I knew. Hearing that, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. He frowned, lowering his head silently. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” My gaze went past him to Chloe: “Right here in this house, on the bed I personally made, I found several strands of your hair. Wine-red, the same color I went with you to get dyed. Was the hotel too expensive, or was it more thrilling here?” My emotions slowly spiraled out of control. I yelled, my voice rising: “Tell me, how am I supposed to describe you? Tell me!” She flinched, opening her mouth, but no words came out. Liam put his arm around her shoulders, staring coldly at me: “The last person you should blame is her. If she hadn’t stopped me, I would have broken up with you six months ago. She cared about you as a friend; she didn’t want to hurt you. Otherwise, why would she have put herself through all this, having a secret affair with me for so long?” Chloe, wiping her tears, murmured softly: “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had a chance to date him for three years, either… Who can control matters of the heart? You shouldn’t speak about me like that…” Listening to their utterly sickening words, I felt a wave of nausea. “So, it’s been half a year already. How hard it must have been for you two, carrying on a secret affair for half a year.” I laughed, furious, too disgusted to say another word. I walked into the room, pulled out my suitcase, and slammed the door shut with a bang. Without looking back, I walked away. 8 After we completely ripped each other apart, they became utterly shameless. Soon after, they openly started dating. They flaunted their affection, inseparable at school. My roommate, Lucy Hayes, was also my classmate. She cautiously came to me, seeking confirmation: “Did you and Liam break up?” I felt no need to hide it and nodded, admitting it. “Because of the campus queen, Chloe? Aren’t you two best friends? Did she… become a home-wrecker?” I paused, then calmly shook my head. “No, we broke up amicably.” I didn’t want to discuss such private matters with outsiders. This relationship had left me with immense pain. But the emotional hurts of a relationship are ultimately not for outsiders to know. As for Chloe, I certainly held resentment. But after ten years of friendship, I couldn’t help but hope. I wanted to preserve some last shred of dignity for our decade together. 9 What made me most awkward was Riley Dawson’s birthday party. She was one of Liam’s friends’ girlfriends. Because we hit it off, we got along extremely well. I had agreed to attend her birthday party a month ago. Now, fearing the awkwardness, I didn’t really want to go. But her words, “Worst case, I’ll just tell Liam not to come. But you have to be there,” convinced me. I couldn’t really ask her to tell Liam not to come, could I? In the end, I bit the bullet and went. 10 In the noisy private room, I sat in a corner, quietly eating fruit. Liam had not only come, but he’d brought his whole new ‘family’ with him. Chloe sat beside him, half her body draped in his embrace. He’d bought a bag of roasted chestnuts from somewhere, and he patiently peeled them one by one, feeding them to her. The room was filled with old acquaintances. Eyes silently flitted between the three of us. I lowered my head, pretending not to notice, and sipped my juice. Riley nudged me lightly with her elbow, her voice apologetic: “I didn’t know he’d bring her. I’m so sorry…” I pursed my lips and smiled, feigning indifference. “It’s fine. We’re all in the same university. It’s bound to happen.” Just then, the private room door opened. Liam’s good friend, Ethan Chase, walked in. His eyes met mine instantly. He then glanced at Liam’s side, raised an eyebrow, and walked over to the empty seat beside me. Drinking always led to games. A classic game of truth or dare. On the third round, Ethan lost. He didn’t hesitate and chose ‘dare.’ Jake Miller grinned mischievously: “Ethan rarely loses! Let’s go big. Pick a girl here and pretend to be a couple for a month.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping the room, then smirked. “They’re all my buddies’ girlfriends. You want to play that hard?” Riley, loving the drama, squeezed over and nudged me towards him: “Not all of them. Look, there’s a single one right here!”

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The first thing I did after being reborn was to plant a wiretap on my boyfriend. In my previous life, my sister-in-law, Brittany Parker, had invited me to a bar the night before my brother was due home from a business trip. She said it was for one last wild night before he returned. But when I arrived at the bar, Brittany suddenly started crying, accusing me of having someone rape her. And the man who allegedly assaulted her was my boyfriend, Zachary Dean. I tried to explain, but Zachary, in front of everyone, claimed I’d threatened to kill myself if he didn’t do it. He even said I was jealous of Brittany for getting all my brother’s love. I was condemned by everyone, thrown into prison, and eventually died there, consumed by depression. Only after my death did I learn the truth: it had all been a setup by Brittany and Zachary. They had been secretly having an affair for a long time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Brittany invited me to the bar. 1 I had just finished showering and was about to go to bed when my phone suddenly rang. It was Brittany’s voice on the other end: “Skylar, your brother’s coming home tomorrow. Please, come to the bar with me for one last wild night. It’ll be tough to get out once he’s back.” Hearing her words, I was absolutely certain I had been reborn. In my last life, Brittany invited me to the bar, but when I arrived, she was nowhere to be seen. I called her, and she told me to wait in the private room. But she never showed up, and I grew worried, calling her repeatedly. Just as I was about to call the police, Brittany appeared with Mom, Dad, and my brother, who had returned early. She tearfully accused me: “Honey, Skylar, to force me to divorce you, actually got Zachary Dean to rape me!” Before I could explain, my brother kicked me in the stomach. Mom and Dad immediately called the police. The police quickly arrived. I quickly explained: “She’s the one who invited me to the bar! We never even met! How could I possibly arrange for someone to rape her?” “Besides, I’ve been busy with work lately. I haven’t seen Zachary Dean in nearly a week! When would I have had the chance to plan something like this?” To my shock, my most trusted boyfriend stabbed me in the back right then. He dropped to his knees in front of Brittany with a thud, his voice trembling: “I’m so sorry, Brittany. Skylar forced me. She said if I didn’t agree, she’d kill herself. I had no choice but to…” His words rendered my explanations utterly futile. The police took me away. Mom and Dad, humiliated, cursed me: “How could we raise such a shameless daughter, to do something so vicious to your own brother’s wife?” During the online trial, Brittany clutched her face, crying hysterically: “I was already pregnant with Ethan’s child. But because she set me up to be raped, I lost the baby, and the doctors said I might never be able to conceive again.” Overnight, I was doxxed, and a torrent of online hate rained down on me. After I was incarcerated, due to my brother’s “special attention,” I was beaten black and blue. Day and night, I racked my brain trying to understand Zachary and Brittany’s conspiracy, eventually succumbing to depression and dying in prison. Only after my death did I learn that Brittany and Zachary had been high school sweethearts. After breaking up, they reconnected, reignited their old flame, and orchestrated this elaborate scheme. After my death, they usurped our home. Mom and Dad were literally driven to their deaths by anger, and my brother died in a car accident on his way to work. All our family assets fell into the hands of that despicable couple. In this new life, I absolutely wouldn’t let the tragedy repeat. 2 “Tsk, Skylar, speak up!” Brittany’s voice pulled me back to reality. I reined in my hatred, keeping my tone normal: “Okay, I’ll be right there.” “Yay, long live Skylar! Hurry up, New Moon Bar, private room 3601.” Hanging up, I immediately ordered a mini wiretap through an express delivery service. After receiving it, I called my boyfriend: “Zachary, are you busy? Brittany invited me to a bar, but it’s too late. I’m worried it’ll be unsafe for just us two girls. Will you come with me?” Zachary clearly hesitated: “Didn’t you say you were too tired lately and didn’t want to go out?” I feigned anger: “Are you on a date with another woman and don’t want to go with me? Fine, you do you. I’ll find another handsome guy to go with.” Zachary immediately agreed, saying he’d pick me up in half an hour. He was punctual, appearing at my doorstep exactly thirty minutes later. “Such a grown man, and you don’t even know your collar’s messy.” I used the excuse of straightening his collar to stick the wiretap on the back. Zachary kissed my cheek: “Skylar, you’re so good to me.” My stomach churned, but I forced myself to remain composed for the sake of the bigger picture. Just like in my previous life, when we arrived at the bar, Brittany wasn’t in the agreed-upon private room. Zachary nervously swallowed. “Brittany’s probably stuck in traffic.” I calmly opened a beer. “It’s fine, we’ll start without her.” After a while, Zachary grew restless. “Brittany, why isn’t she here yet? Did something happen?” I ignored him, expertly mixing a drink. “No, Skylar, you drink first. I’ll go look for her.” “I’ll go with you. She’s my sister-in-law, after all. If anything really happened, my brother would kill me.” Zachary immediately stopped me. “Please, darling, don’t add to the chaos. You’ve had so much to drink. If something really happened to Brittany, how could I handle all of it?” Without waiting for me to speak, Zachary rushed out. My lips curved upward slightly. Are you a little too eager? After finishing all the drinks I’d mixed, I contentedly picked up my phone. “Hello, 911? There’s a girl being raped at the New Moon Bar.” After reporting it, my left hand trembled with excitement. Knowing the time was right, I sent messages to Mom, Dad, and my brother, who was still out of town. [Brittany’s in trouble at New Moon Bar! Emergency! Get here fast!] The bar she’d chosen was far from my house, but in less than ten minutes, Mom and Dad, with a group of people, arrived in a frantic rush, each carrying some kind of weapon. My brother also messaged me. [Keep me updated. I’m on my way now.] “Where’s Brittany? What happened to Brittany?” Mom’s face was pale, her voice trembling. I feigned fear. “Sister-in-law… Sister-in-law was taken into a private room. I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t. The man even hurt me.” I exposed my bloodied arm. My relatives flinched in horror. “Forget that for now! Which private room was your sister-in-law taken to?” Dad gripped my injured arm, his eyes filled with concern for Brittany. “3601! Hurry, follow me!” 3 I led the group quickly down the corridor. The eyes of the surrounding guests and staff were practically glued to us. “It’s here!” I pointed to the room number on the door. Dad, without a word, kicked the door open. The scene inside left everyone stunned. Zachary and my sister-in-law were entangled, completely naked. When they saw us, their expressions shifted from intoxicated pleasure to panic. Gasp! My sister-in-law shrieked, quickly grabbing clothes to cover herself. “Mom, Dad, why are you here?!” Zachary frantically scrambled up, trying to find clothes to cover himself, only to realize they were all scattered near the private room door. “What in God’s name is going on here?!” Veins bulged on Dad’s face. My sister-in-law’s tears instantly streamed down like broken pearls. “Skylar invited me here for drinks. I thought she was just stressed from work and wanted to relax, but who knew she’d actually get someone to rape me?!” Zachary, at this point, didn’t care that he was naked. He dropped to his knees with a thud. “Uncle, Auntie, I’m so sorry. I was truly forced into this. I had no other choice.” “Skylar said why didn’t her brother love her like he used to after he got married. She was jealous that Brittany got all her brother’s attention.” “She said that as long as Brittany was defiled, her brother would divorce her. If I didn’t listen to her, she’d jump off a building.” “Nonsense!” I slapped Zachary across the face. Dad instinctively pushed me away. “Skylar Hayes, how can you be so shameless? That’s your own brother’s wife!” He raised his hand, ready to strike me. Mom’s eyes welled up again and again. “How could I have given birth to a daughter like you?” My uncle grabbed Dad’s hand before it could swing at me. “Ethan, cool down!” “And you’re still defending her! Look at what she’s done!” Dad’s hands trembled as he pointed at me. Overnight, he seemed to have aged a decade. The private room was surrounded by a crowd of curious onlookers, their chatter at one point drowning out our voices. “This sister-in-law is truly inhuman. To actually arrange for someone to rape her own sister-in-law.” “How can someone so young be so malicious?” “First time I’ve heard of a sister being jealous of her sister-in-law.” … My sister-in-law, seeing everyone on her side, cried even harder. “Dad, Mom, Ethan’s coming back tomorrow. Now that this has happened, how can I face him?” Zachary echoed her. “Uncle, Auntie, Skylar said her brother is coming back tomorrow, and if we didn’t act now, we wouldn’t have another chance. She threatened to jump from the building if I didn’t do it.” I stared at Zachary. “Are you sure I forced you?” Zachary nodded without a hint of guilt. “Yes, you did. I even have the chat logs on my phone.” “What chat logs?” My brother suddenly appeared. Had he flown back? His six-foot-three frame loomed over Zachary’s five-foot-seven, an intimidating presence. Zachary tremblingly handed over his phone. “These are Skylar Hayes’ messages, forcing me to rape Brittany. I swear, if I’m lying even once, let lightning strike me down five times.” The more my brother read, the darker his face became. “No, it’s not like that, listen to me…” Before I could speak, my brother kicked me against the wall. “Skylar Hayes, when did you become so twisted?” My sister-in-law threw herself into my brother’s arms. “Ethan, my body is defiled. Let’s get a divorce.” My brother held her, his heart aching, his eyes on me filled with murderous hatred. As he moved to strike me again, two police officers rushed in. “We received a report of a rape here. Where is the victim?” My sister-in-law immediately flung herself at the police officers’ feet. “Officers, you must do me justice! My vicious sister-in-law, to force me to divorce her brother, actually hired someone to rape me!” Zachary chimed in at the opportune moment. “I confess, but all of this was forced on me by her. I have proof.” My brother handed the chat logs on his phone to the police. After reviewing them, the police went about their routine. “Who reported the crime?” I calmly raised my hand. “I did.” The atmosphere in the room instantly grew eerie. “You… you reported it?” My brother looked at me, perplexed. He couldn’t understand why I would do such a thing. “She must have a guilty conscience! Officers, quickly arrest her!” The police frowned. “Besides these chat logs, do you have any other evidence to prove that this lady instigated it?” Zachary and my sister-in-law froze simultaneously. Zachary stammered, “Do… do I count?” I scoffed. All eyes turned to me. “A perfect example of dogs eating dogs!” “Since you can’t provide concrete evidence, why don’t you listen to mine?” I pulled out my phone from my pocket and opened the audio file. “Everyone, listen closely!”

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My mother, Sarah Davis, was a celebrated educator, a state-level specialist teacher. The pressure of the upcoming SATs was immense, and my depression chose that moment to rear its ugly head. She, with a forced laugh she probably thought was witty, declared, “I simply don’t have the time for your theatrics.” Then, she turned her back on me, focusing instead on her star pupils, the ones she was grooming for Ivy League glory. I was left abandoned at the doorstep of my father’s house, a home he now shared with his new family, a life he’d built after his divorce from my mother. A woman, rough around the edges, motioned with her chin, “Well, don’t just stand there like a lump!” “Go grab a plate. The pink set’s all yours.” 1 The SATs loomed large, and my depression had finally spiraled. After a month of shuttling me to doctors, my mother, Sarah, had finally hit her limit. She haphazardly stuffed a few clothes into a suitcase, then practically dragged me into the car. I sagged in the back seat, boneless, like a deflated doll. As she drove, she lectured, “Girls are already at a disadvantage in academics; you have to push harder than boys to even compete.” “How can you be so fragile?” “Constantly throwing around ‘depression flair-up’ – are you going to tell your boss that when you finally get a job?!” I remained utterly silent. She caught my blank expression in the rearview mirror, and her temper flared. “That’s enough! Are we still going on with this?” “Seriously mad at your own mother? Who hasn’t been chewed out at school?” She was referring to an incident in class just days before. As my math teacher and homeroom advisor, she had called on me, knowing full well my fragile state and scattered focus, deliberately putting me on the spot. When I couldn’t answer, she strode down from the front of the classroom. “Hand out.” The sharp crack of the wooden ruler against my palm made me flinch, but she only grew angrier. “Who told you to pull back?! Stick it out!” School policy prohibited physical punishment, but there was no rule against “educating your own child.” I became the sole student in the entire school granted this grim “privilege.” My classmates’ eyes, a mix of mockery, pity, and morbid curiosity, burned into me. Finally, she glared. “If you can’t focus, you stand! You’ll stand for every single class today!” My palms were crimson, my eyes burning. The next day, for the class placement exam, I turned in a blank paper. My mother, upon hearing the news, spent the night pacing. By morning, her decision was made: “Don’t blame me for being harsh. I’m a celebrated teacher, and I have several Ivy League hopefuls in my class. “I can’t possibly dedicate all my time to you. Go home. Skip the exams this year. I’ll help you prepare for a retake next year.” 2 The car pulled to a stop in an unfamiliar apartment complex. My mother retrieved my suitcase. “This is your father’s new place. The apartment number is on this note. Go on up.” Seeing my hesitation, she added, with a feigned concern, “Someone’s home, just ring the bell. Your dad’s new wife is a real ‘trophy wife’ – doesn’t work, just stays home with the kid.” Despite her attempts to mask it, I caught the undertone of disdain in her voice. She drove off in a hurry, and I suddenly called out, “Mom, did you check my medication?” “Hmm? Oh, it’s all in your backpack, remember to take it… I’m off now. Behave yourself at their place.” Before she’d finished speaking, the car’s exhaust fumes were already choking me. I followed the address, ascended the stairs, and knocked. The moment the door opened, I froze. My mother’s “trophy wife” was, surprisingly, a stout woman with oil stains on her clothes, uncombed hair, and sleep crust still clinging to the corners of her eyes. She scrutinized me from head to toe, then, with an almost practiced gesture, tilted her chin. “What are you doing just standing there? Go get your own food. The pink dishes are yours.” 3 My father’s new wife asked me to call her Maria. I stood awkwardly by the doorway, taking in the room: clean, yet untidy, toys scattered across the living room floor. A little girl, perhaps four or five, sat cross-legged on the rug, clutching a fuzzy teddy bear in her arms, watching me with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity—this was my father’s daughter with Maria, my stepsister, Lily. After a long silence, Lily pointed at me. “Uh-oh!” Maria peeked out from the kitchen. Seeing me still rooted to the spot, she sighed. “You planning on marrying the doormat? Go on, get your dishes!” I instinctively opened the cabinet, searching for bowls and chopsticks. I found four distinct sets of tableware. Three showed clear signs of daily use. Only one, a pink set, looked remarkably new, yet it wasn’t dusty; it seemed to be washed frequently. At the dinner table, Lily tried several times to strike up a conversation. But I found myself unable to utter a single word. Finally, Lily scratched her head, excusing herself, “Maybe my sister’s just having a bad day.” “Or maybe she’s sad because there’s no ice cream?” “Mom… I…” Maria cut her off mercilessly, “She can have some, you can’t.” “Because a certain little cheat ate two ice creams yesterday!” After dinner, Maria hesitated before handing me a stack of paper. “Ellie? Can I call you Ellie?” “I heard… people with your condition often don’t feel like talking.” “So, if there’s anything you need to say, would you mind writing it down for me?” I was stunned, my gaze dropping to the stack of paper, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. Since my symptoms had emerged, every word I spoke felt like it drained every ounce of energy from my body. My own mother’s reaction had been, “If you don’t feel like talking, then you need to push yourself to practice.” She would deliberately pretend not to understand my hand gestures, insisting I speak, even if it left me utterly exhausted. It turned out… there was clearly a better way to handle it. 4 That evening, I slept in what used to be Lily’s room. My phone buzzed suddenly. It was Mom calling. A wave of irritation instantly washed over me. I hung up, then texted her instead: “Can we just text? I really don’t feel like talking on the phone.” The screen showed “typing…” But in the end, nothing came through. After a long pause, the phone rang again, insistently. I hung up several times. But my mom was relentless. Finally, I resigned myself and answered. My mother’s encouraging voice chirped, “That’s more like it.” “If you don’t feel like talking, then you need to push yourself to practice.” “You’ll feel better if you just communicate more with people.” “You’re Sarah Davis’s daughter, you can’t give up.” I spoke, my voice weak, “What do you want?” My mother instantly perked up. “I’ve sent you a few practice tests. Do them in the next couple of days.” “Chloe Adams got the highest score in class——678, you know.” “You used to be right up there with her.” My voice felt dry. “Didn’t you say I should retake next year?” My mother’s dissatisfied tone came through the line. “I did promise you that, but are you just going to waste this whole year?!” “Since you have an extra year to study, you need to make a spectacular comeback…” “People can’t just give up and coast. That’s how you become useless.” On the other end of the line, my mother kept chattering on and on. But I couldn’t hear a word. I felt like I was suffocating. I wanted to scream, to cry, to jump from the window. But in the end, I only asked, my voice barely a whisper, “Mom… did you check my medication?” My mother didn’t hear clearly. “What?” “Oh, never mind, I have to go prepare my lesson plans.” “Remember to do those tests!” The call ended, and all the strength seemed to drain from my body. I collapsed onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the pill bottle within reach. My mom had never noticed that the sleeping pills the doctor prescribed had slowly accumulated, building up to a full bottle. My therapist had actually hinted at it, saying my condition was unstable and urging her to frequently check my medication. 5 Too tired to get water, I dry-swallowed the pills one by one, my consciousness slowly blurring. I imagined that when my life ended, perhaps a few tears should fall, to mourn my pathetic existence. But my eyes were bone dry, nothing to shed. Instead, a pill caught in my throat, and I couldn’t help but gag. The next instant, my bedroom door burst open. Maria rushed in. I frowned slightly, annoyed. How irritating. Looks like I won’t die this time. I’ll have to collect another bottle… But to my surprise, Maria simply rushed to my side, her face a mask of panic, and pulled me into a tight embrace. Her voice trembled, yet it was resolute: “Sweetie, can you still hold on?” “If it’s truly too painful, if you can’t bear it… then Mom won’t call an ambulance.” “But if you… if there’s even a tiny spark of wanting to live…” “Then Mom will never let fate take you!” I stared at her, stunned. Tears were actually streaming down her plump face. A single tear rolled and fell into my own dry eye. Suddenly, I burst into sobs, and then, with all my remaining strength, I tried to force my fingers down my throat. At the same time, Maria dialed 911. 6 When I next awoke, I was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. The drip contained potassium, sending waves of stinging cold through my veins. Yet, a soothing warmth simultaneously spread across my arm. I struggled to look. Maria sat by my right side, one hand scrolling through cheesy online dramas on her phone. Her other hand ceaselessly rubbed my arm, trying to ease my discomfort. To my left was my father, who had cut short his business trip and whom I hadn’t seen in ages. Seeing me awake, he instinctively frowned, as if to scold me for being so reckless. But Maria smacked him on the head. She glared, “Think before you speak!” My dad instantly quieted, reaching out to gently stroke my head. “Will you come live with Dad and Maria now, okay?” I felt a dizzying sense of disbelief. My mother had always claimed my dad was utterly blind. After all, he was a highly educated man, a former international student, yet he’d chosen a new wife she deemed “crude and unrefined.” She had insisted, “She probably put some kind of spell on him.” But at this moment, I started to understand why my father, after the divorce, had chosen Maria. 7 After my discharge from the hospital, Maria made a definitive statement: “No SATs this year!” “And if you don’t want to take them next year, that’s fine too!” She went on a full-blown guilt trip with my dad: “You just earn more money, I’ll spend less, and we’ll leave more for both girls.” “Worst case, we still have this house.” I overheard her talking to Lily by chance: “Remember how Mom used to say, ‘It’s okay if you’re not good at school, as long as you have good character, and the house will be yours anyway, right?’” “Hmm… well, things have changed a bit. Don’t you think your sister will need a place to live too, eventually?” “That’s right! So, this house has to be half hers, got it?” Lily bit her finger, deep in thought. “I guess I can live in half a house.” “Good then, half for sister, half for me.” But I felt as though I’d been slapped awake. Dad wasn’t exactly wealthy; this house was just a modest two-bedroom. Originally, Maria and he shared one room, and Lily had the other, which was perfectly fine. But after I came, to give me my own private space, the three of them had squeezed into one room. When they slept, they lay sideways across the bed. The bed wasn’t wide enough, so they’d improvise by pushing a few chairs to the foot, making it work just barely. Yet, they never once complained in front of me. I silently admonished myself: Ellie Peterson, how could you be so selfish? That evening, I announced, “I want to go back to school.” “I want to take the SATs.” 8 The first thing upon returning to school was a placement exam to determine which class I’d join. Even though I’d missed some school, my foundation was strong, and I could solve most of the problems. So, the principal waved his hand. “Advanced Placement class.” I subtly frowned. My mother taught the Advanced Placement class. I tried to argue, “Can I be in Class Two instead?” “I don’t want to go to the Advanced Placement class.” The principal seemed incredibly surprised but agreed to discuss it with Mr. Harrison, the Class Two homeroom teacher. “You can attend the Advanced Placement class for now.” “Every second counts in senior year. It’s not too late to switch classes after we’ve discussed it.” As I walked into the classroom, it was right in the middle of my mother’s math lesson. My appearance brought a sudden hush to the entire class. My mother’s brow was furrowed with a hint of fatigue. “Here to see me?” “Out of pocket money?” “I’ll transfer some to you in a bit. Go back for now, and I’ll see you this weekend.” I wheeled in a desk and chair from the hallway. “I’m here for class.” My mother’s expression soured. She lowered her voice. “Who told you to use my connections to get into the Advanced Placement class?” “I absolutely detest special treatment.” I didn’t respond, simply moving my desk and chair into the classroom and settling in. My mother, helpless, finally acquiesced. “I truly don’t have time for your antics.” “Just go if you want to.” 9 Undeniably, my mother’s teaching abilities were truly exceptional, known for her ability to simplify complex concepts and her witty, engaging style. And aside from her severity with me, she was generally well-liked by other students. Just like now, my mother produced several exquisitely packed bento boxes. “I know none of you enjoy cafeteria food.” “So, today, I’ve made five portions of sushi myself!” “Whoever can solve this challenge problem on the board gets to eat.” The school cafeteria food was indeed notoriously bad. I had previously begged my mother to bring me homemade lunches. But she would say, “Just bear with it for another year. You can eat whatever you want later.” “This is senior year, a critical period. Who has time to cook for you?” “Besides, I’m eating cafeteria food too, aren’t I?” Yet now, she was using her homemade sushi as a reward. I couldn’t help but let a sarcastic smirk play on my lips. My mother caught sight of it and deliberately tried to embarrass me. “Ellie Peterson, you answer this one.” “Since you’re in the Advanced Placement class, this problem should be a piece of cake for you.” I stood up, trying to force my mind to conjure a solution. But my mother kept circling me, peering at my blank scratch paper, and let out a loud, disapproving “tsk.” In an instant, my mind went completely blank. Every critical word she had ever spoken to me flashed before my eyes, a frantic slideshow. Five minutes later, I dropped my head in defeat. “I… I can’t solve it.” My mother, as if savoring a victory, didn’t let me sit down. She spun around abruptly. “Chloe Adams, you come up and show Ellie how it’s done.” Chloe Adams was the top student my mother constantly praised, the girl who had clinched first place in the placement exam. The girl sitting in front of me hesitated for a second, then spoke in a soft, low voice: “I’m sorry, Ms. Davis.” “I’m not quite sure how to do this one either.” “Could you please explain it?” She was lying. I’d clearly seen that her scratch paper was filled with the solution, and the answer was circled in red ink. My mother immediately strode to the podium, ready to explain the problem. Just then, a loud voice boomed through the classroom: “Oh my, it’s almost 12:30 already, aren’t these kids going to eat?” It was Maria. She stood at the door, carrying a huge bag. My mother recognized her and immediately snapped, “What are you doing here?” Maria calmly walked over to my desk, her voice full of righteous conviction. “Bringing lunch, of course.” “Haven’t you ever brought your child lunch?” I was stunned. Maria’s house wasn’t close to the school. I hadn’t expected her to specifically come all this way to bring me food. She began taking out the lunch boxes, chatting casually with the other students: “You’re all Ellie’s classmates, aren’t you?” “Come on, come on, Auntie made homemade chicken tenders and fried mushrooms today!” “Hurry and eat while they’re hot!” At first, the students were shy, waving their hands in refusal. But after a morning of classes and being held late by my mom, their stomachs were growling. Their politeness lasted barely a minute. The delicious aroma wafted through the room, and they all broke. “Thank you, Auntie!” “And thanks, Ellie, we’re totally benefiting from you!” I felt a bit overwhelmed. I was naturally reserved and rarely socialized with classmates. This was the first time I’d been the center of attention, and the first time I’d shared food. In stark contrast, my mother stood on the podium, guarding a few boxes of sushi. Her face was livid with fury. Just then, someone asked me, “Ellie, who is she?” Before I could answer, Maria effortlessly interjected, “I’m her nanny.” My mother let out a scoff of cold disdain.

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My family believed that after my death, I returned as a vengeful spirit. They summoned an exorcist, determined to shatter my very soul. “You have no idea how disgusting this woman was! She coveted the uncle who raised her!” “She messed around with men, and then caused her uncle’s girlfriend to miscarry!” “She was trash in life, and she’s a menace in death, never giving us a moment’s peace!” My family whispered, their accusations a venomous chorus. Yet, the exorcist, after witnessing the memories left by my spirit, wept. “Perhaps, after you see this, you will understand how truly miserable she was.” Later, those who saw my memories were consumed by agonizing regret. They knelt at my grave, begging my ghost to return and look upon them. But I had already faded away. From the moment I chose to leave, I had no intention of lingering by their side. … Rhys Kaelan, the exorcist, meticulously arranged the sticky rice, a rooster, and talismans. Before beginning the ritual, he sought final confirmation. “Are you truly set on shattering her soul? This is no small matter. She was, after all, your family. Are you certain?” My mother, Mrs. Sterling, grimaced, her face etched with disgust. “Absolutely. She shamed us in life, and now, even in death, she won’t let us rest!” “Exactly!” my brother, Zane Sterling, chimed in. “Brooke has been having nightmares lately. It’s definitely her ghost haunting us! If we don’t obliterate her, we’ll never have peace!” “She coveted the uncle who raised her, spouted nothing but lies, and engaged in wild parties with over a dozen men. A woman like that is better off vanished forever.” Rhys Kaelan nodded. From their words, this deceased spirit didn’t sound like a decent person in life. If that were the case, he felt no moral qualms. He would simply use his abilities to dispel her. Rhys Kaelan lit the incense and candles, then burned a talisman, beginning the summoning. He tried several times, but nothing appeared. Frustrated, Rhys Kaelan turned to Mrs. Sterling. “It seems the situation is… peculiar.” “Did the malevolent spirit have anyone she cared about before her death? Make a video call to that person. With the image and voice of someone she cared for, the spirit is more likely to appear. Only then can I subdue her.” My mother cursed under her breath. “That wretch! Even dead, she’s still so much trouble!” My brother added, “Who knows, maybe she’s deliberately hiding, shamelessly wanting to see that person one last time! Just thinking about her disgraces the entire Sterling family!” “Disgusting and vulgar creature!” “Tell me about it!” The family members present chattered, their words a cacophony of condemnation. My mother, following the exorcist’s instructions, dialed Asher Thorne’s number. Asher Thorne, the uncle who had cared for me after my father’s death. On the other end of the video call, Asher, clad in a bathrobe, looked composed, almost distant. Upon hearing my mother’s explanation, his brows immediately furrowed. “Mrs. Sterling, you know I never want to hear about that wretch again.” “I know you detest that rogue, Asher, but her lingering presence isn’t an option. Having her soul shattered is also for Vivianne’s peace of mind.” At the mention of Vivianne Thorne, Asher’s brow twitched. A gentle female voice drifted from the other end of the video. “Asher, I think I heard someone call me?” “It’s nothing,” Asher replied curtly. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’? I heard it all. It’s fine. Cassandra Vance is dead and gone. I no longer care about the evil she did to me. If they need our help to shatter her soul, then let’s assist them.” Convinced by Vivianne, Asher reluctantly agreed. “Just keep the video call active. I’ll just watch, right?” The exorcist nodded, then resumed his incantations to summon my spirit. This time, a fierce wind roared through the room, extinguishing the candles on the altar. Rhys Kaelan stared, stunned, at the entity he had summoned. 2 The swirling mist, though it took on my familiar silhouette, pulsed with horrifying crimson veins. Especially around the wrists, countless streaks of red were visible. My fingertips and lips also seemed to bleed. Rhys Kaelan knew these red veins symbolized the trauma and suffering the spirit had endured in life. He stood frozen, utterly stunned. But my mother and the others saw only terror and revulsion. “Typical Cassandra Vance’s ghost! Just as hateful and disgusting as she was!” “Not an ounce of a good girl left! Get rid of it quickly!” “What are those vast patches of red on her? Why are they spreading? Is this malevolent spirit trying to harm us?” “Hey, Mrs. Sterling, didn’t Cassie used to self-harm due to stress? They said she had depression back then?” “Depression? Please! It was all just for Asher Thorne’s attention!” My brother, Zane, couldn’t take it anymore. “Exorcist! What are you waiting for? Shatter her soul!” Rhys Kaelan hesitated. “You don’t understand. What has been summoned isn’t truly her soul, but rather the memories left behind by her soul.” Moreover, spirits that leave behind such fragmented memories usually dissipate on their own. But Rhys Kaelan kept this to himself. My mother cut him off. “So, what now? We hired you to dispel her! If you can’t do it, we’re not paying!” “Just looking at it is bad luck! Get out! Our Sterling family’s reputation is ruined by this hussy!” My brother picked up an ashtray and hurled it at my spectral form. If I hadn’t already been dead, I would have been bleeding from my head. The ashtray passed through my body, and my misty shape blurred, swaying in the air. Rhys Kaelan had come to collect a fee, of course. So, he didn’t mention the fact that I was already gone. He simply wanted to wait for my memory fragments to finish, then collect his payment. He put on a show of mystical theatrics. “Please, be patient, everyone. This is called a ‘life review.’ Once it’s over, I will begin the ritual.” At that moment, my mist dissolved, and scenes from my past life began to play out. The misty image of me was that of a small girl, held by Asher Thorne’s hand, slowly walking towards a luxurious mansion. I had just lost my father. Due to a lawsuit before his death, our family had gone bankrupt. My mother, Mrs. Sterling, was unable to support two children. Asher Thorne had come at someone’s request, offering to help support one child. My mother, after deliberation, chose to keep my brother and entrusted me to this stranger. When I first arrived at the Thorne family home, I was extremely timid. Like a small puppy afraid of the light, I spent my days hiding in dark corners. The Thorne family servants whispered amongst themselves, saying I looked like bad luck. But Asher Thorne doted on me then. He fired those servants and would always gently take my hand and lead me into the sunlight to play. No matter what others said about me, Asher always stood by my side, gently encouraging me. “I’m not worth your kindness. Mom and Dad don’t like me, my brother doesn’t like me. Maybe I was born to be hated. You’ll probably hate me someday too.” I cried, pushing away Asher’s meticulous care, but he simply held me close. “Nonsense. My little Cassie is the best girl in the world. Uncle will never hate you.” Finally, my defenses crumbling in Asher Thorne’s embrace, I wept uncontrollably. Back then, I believed I had finally found my anchor, someone who would never abandon me. Rhys Kaelan watched the scene unfold, a pang of sadness in his chest. The girl in the memory was simply a vulnerable, unloved teenager, completely at odds with the “hussy” and “wretch” my family described. Could she have been led astray later in life? My mother and brother also fell silent. Although their decision to give me up had been unavoidable—the family’s assets couldn’t support two children—they had still wronged me. Their faces held a mixture of discomfort and shame. As for Asher Thorne on the video call, he was lost in thought. He had forgotten his promises to me, and the harmonious days we once shared. Vivianne Thorne sensed Asher’s shift in mood and immediately nestled into his embrace. “I can’t believe your relationship was so close back then. No wonder Cassandra became so obsessed with you, even repeatedly targeting me to get you.” Her voice dripped with a manufactured grievance. “Sigh, now that I think about it, maybe my appearance ruined your perfect match.” Asher’s face instantly hardened. 3 The warmth of shared memories instantly evaporated as Asher Thorne recalled my supposed actions against Vivianne. He hugged her tightly. “Nonsense, Vivianne. No matter what, you are and always will be the only one in my heart.” “She did so many wicked things to you back then. Even if she hadn’t taken her own life, I would have avenged you myself!” As he spoke, Asher’s fists clenched. If I were standing before him, I imagined he’d kick me to vent his fury. “Taking her in was the biggest mistake of my life. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have suffered so much!” Meanwhile, my mother and brother snapped out of their reminiscence. “Hmph! What’s the use of being well-behaved as a child? She still grew up to be a menace!” “Exactly! She committed every evil imaginable! Even if the Vance family wronged her back then, it’s all been repaid now!” “She even dared to haunt us in our dreams as a malevolent spirit! A born ingrate!” Other relatives who had come with my parents chimed in, echoing their sentiments. “Precisely! A creature that knows no peace, even in death! Her ultimate fate is to be annihilated!” “Exorcist, isn’t it over yet? When can we ensure she’ll never be reborn?!” At that moment, the scene in the mist shifted again. Vivianne Thorne appeared in my memory fragments. She looked vibrant and youthful. The first time I saw her, she was already holding Asher Thorne’s arm, sweetly declaring she was his girlfriend. But at that time, they hadn’t even formalized their relationship. Asher gave her a cold look. “Don’t talk nonsense and fool the child.” Vivianne playfully hugged Asher’s arm. “How am I fooling a child? I am your girlfriend! Unless you want your adopted daughter to be your girlfriend?” The word “daughter” stung me. Though I didn’t yet understand my feelings for Asher, I knew he was too young to be my father. Asher, exasperated yet doting, tapped Vivianne’s forehead, then turned to ask the housekeeper to prepare some snacks. After Asher left, I returned to my room. But as I turned, Vivianne screamed behind me, dropping and shattering a glass. She fell directly onto the shards of glass. The sight horrified me. Asher rushed over, torn between concern for Vivianne and questioning what had happened. “It’s fine. Cassie didn’t mean it. Don’t blame her.” I was too young and naive to grasp the strangeness of her words. She seemed to be defending me, yet not quite. I wanted to explain, but Asher’s gaze frightened me into silence. His eyes were terrifyingly, terrifyingly cold. Disappointment mingled with anger. I froze. That incident was just the beginning. In the subsequent memory fragments, Vivianne appeared with increasing frequency. During a Thorne family banquet, she sat smiling, chatting with me, but somehow, her dress ended up mysteriously doused in champagne. When Asher asked what happened, she would still say, “It’s not Cassie’s fault. I was just clumsy.” She spoke the truth; it wasn’t my fault. But Asher’s gaze upon me grew increasingly disappointed. On New Year’s Eve, Asher instructed me to stay up late, but I found myself locked in the basement, unable to get out. As I was trapped, I vaguely saw a figure that looked like Vivianne, but I couldn’t be sure. I was only released by the servants the next morning. That was the first time Asher truly lost his temper with me. “You don’t even care about keeping vigil on New Year’s Eve? Cassandra Vance, how could you become like this? Do you consider me, your uncle, family? I told you so clearly yesterday, and you just ignored it?” I tried to explain, but Asher’s disappointment cut me off. “I thought you cared about me too. It seems I was mistaken.” “This New Year’s trip, Vivianne and I will go together. You stay home. I imagine someone with your personality would prefer to be alone anyway.” Asher and Vivianne left. That Lunar New Year was utterly bleak. I thought I just had to endure the loneliness, but on the night of the New Year, a group of men burst into the Thorne residence. They looked at my photo, their smiles twisted and predatory. “Looks like this is the one. We thought these kinds of jobs were for ugly broads, but look at this little beauty.” “Don’t be scared, little beauty. We’re just doing a job. Just be a good girl and spend the night with us.” “See? There aren’t many of us, just eight or nine. We’ll make sure you have a good time.” I struggled desperately, but it was futile. They took photos, they recorded videos. Afterwards, I lay broken and shattered on the ground, while they, invigorated, showed me the pictures and videos. They warned me not to yearn for what wasn’t mine. If they ever found out I was pursuing another woman’s man again, they would return and make these photos and videos public. A week later, Asher and Vivianne returned from their trip. I dared not tell Asher what had happened, living in silent terror. I retreated into myself once more. I yearned for Asher to care for me and love me as he once had, but this time, his heart belonged entirely to Vivianne. Their relationship had changed, solidifying during that week of my repeated torment.

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My whole family had fallen into a trap set by money, but except for me, my parents and sister had walked right into it, willingly. They staged a fake divorce, making me go with Dad. While I was gnawing on instant ramen in a leaky rented room, they were living it up in a mansion with Brooke, feasting on king crab. The fifty-sixth time Dad knocked me out and stole my earnings, a thought, like a message in a chat feed, floated through my mind: “Poor little sis is so pathetic, she still doesn’t know her parents’ divorce is fake. This is actually a reality show, a live broadcast to test the difference between raising kids with nothing and spoiling them rotten!” “Yeah, for every day sis suffers, her parents and Brooke rake in tens of thousands!” “The lives of the poor are just a game for the rich…” Following the address in the chat feed, I found my family living lavishly in a sprawling villa – turns out, they only ever had one precious princess: Brooke. 1 I froze, staring at my parents and Brooke, dressed in their finest. All my past suspicions instantly confirmed. They hadn’t divorced. Our family wasn’t bankrupt. Only I had been kept in the dark. Was it because I was quieter, more obedient, that I became the one cast aside? My chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, the pain stealing my breath. The chat feed said it was a live game show, that rich people behind screens were making five-figure incomes daily by watching my suffering and showering them with gifts. Could they really do this to me, all for money? I stood in the sunlight, yet felt a chilling cold, as if plunged into an ice abyss. Just then, my phone chimed. A text from Brooke: “Hey sis, heard you’re working to earn your living expenses? So sad. But you’re always the most sensible one, I’m sure you’ll work hard, right?” Every word dripped with malicious glee. Brooke had always been a sweet-talker, charming everyone. I was introverted, quiet. In middle school, I ranked first in my class, while Brooke was at the bottom. Yet, Mom and Dad blamed me for showing off in front of her. Even then, I knew they played favorites, but I never imagined their favoritism could reach this extreme. “What are you doing?! Look at the time!” A familiar shout yanked me back to reality. I hadn’t realized I’d walked all the way to the local market where I worked. After the divorce, Dad had turned to drinking, spending his days either beating me or stealing my money for booze. Being underage, I had to take under-the-table jobs. I numbly took the greasy apron, and only by dawn, clutching my daily wages, did I stumble through the dim alleyways back home. The rented room was dilapidated and damp, paint peeling from the walls, windows cracked. Dad was rarely gone, but I knew he was probably off with Mom and Brooke again. After eating my instant ramen, I lay on the bed, acutely aware of the cameras tucked into every corner. Every tear I shed, every struggle I endured, was being broadcast for others’ amusement. Unable to sleep, I used the chat link to access the hidden streaming site. In the most popular live stream, I watched Mom and Dad and Brooke feasting on Australian lobster in a high-end restaurant, the lingering taste of instant ramen still in my mouth. In that moment, I felt like an ugly duckling hiding in the shadows, peeking in on the swan family’s bliss. 2 At 9 PM, I walked home clutching my report card—first in my class for the final exams. On the way, I spent two dollars on a simple, old-fashioned sponge cake, no frosting. It was the best reward I could give myself. I carefully placed the cake on the table, broke off a small piece, and put it in my mouth. Its coarse texture was rich with eggy flavor, and suddenly my nose stung with unshed tears. When had I last eaten cake? I’d long forgotten. Just then, the chat feed flickered before my eyes again: “Poor little sis, gets first place and only gets to celebrate with a two-dollar cake.” “Brooke’s different, though. She gets last place and still gets a fancy dinner with her parents.” The comments discussing the gourmet food my parents and Brooke were eating made the cake in my mouth turn to ash. Being alone in the house was too quiet. I couldn’t resist opening the live stream website again. Sure enough, in the live stream, my parents and Brooke were feasting at a high-end Japanese restaurant. I saw Mom gently stroking Brooke’s head, smiling, telling her that her score didn’t matter, just trying her best was enough. I also saw Dad put a large piece of salmon belly in Brooke’s bowl, saying that if she wanted, even if her grades were terrible, they’d send her to study abroad. The three of them chatted animatedly, dreaming of Brooke’s future abroad. Not a single word about me. It was as if this family didn’t have two daughters, but only one, Brooke. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness, quietly closing the live stream. Halfway through my cake, I suddenly heard heavy footsteps outside the door. Dad was back. I had wanted to show him my test scores, a faint smile touching my lips. But the report card was still clutched in my hand, and before I could even offer it, Dad shoved me. “Got any money? Hand it over, I need booze!” I hesitated, timidly, “I… don’t have much.” Last time, Dad had taken all my earnings from work, leaving me with almost nothing. “You worked and have no money? Who are you kidding?! Go buy it, now!” Dad growled, lifting his leg and kicking me. A bruise immediately bloomed on my calf. I dared not speak another word, stuffed the few crumpled bills into my pocket, and hurried out. I ran to the convenience store, bought the liquor, and then walked back home under the cover of night. “I bought the liquor.” Watching him drink, already soused, I gathered my courage. “Dad, my final exam results are out. I got…” Before “first place” could even leave my lips, Dad impatiently roared at me. “What’s the point of a girl studying so much? You’re just going to get married anyway! Hurry up and graduate, then go work and earn money. Bringing money back to support me—that’s what matters!” My eyes widened abruptly, the image from the live stream still echoing in my mind. Mom and Dad had explicitly encouraged Brooke to study, even saying that girls should travel when they’re young to broaden their horizons. Why was it, when it came to me, they only said studying was useless for a girl? The report card in my pocket was crumpled, never to be shown. Dad finished his liquor, then, reeking of booze, he stumbled out of the house, knocking over the dining table on his way. The half-eaten cake rolled to the floor, then was mercilessly trampled by his foot. Bang! The door slammed shut, and his footsteps faded into the distance. I stared at the mashed cake on the floor, tears silently streaming down my face. 3 For a long time after that, Dad never came back. I only learned through the live stream that it was because the college entrance exams were approaching, and Brooke wanted Mom and Dad to stay with her. I sat in the damp rented room, my heart feeling as if it had been submerged in ice water, the cold shaking me to my core. On the day of the college entrance exams, I walked to school by myself. Luxury cars whizzed past me on the road. I saw Brooke’s beaming face inside one. When the exam ended, as I reached the school gate, I saw Mom and Dad standing there, looking expectant. I instinctively smiled faintly. Just as I was about to approach and speak to them, I saw them raise their arms, waving towards another direction. I followed their gaze and saw Brooke, her face radiant with smiles. My steps, just about to move forward, suddenly halted. I watched, helpless, as the three of them walked away side by side, until they disappeared from sight. The chat feed once again filled my vision. “Brooke really is Mom and Dad’s darling, isn’t she? Three whole days of pampering during exams, bringing her all sorts of delicious food.” “Poor sis, all through her exams she only had plain bread and pickles. No nutrition at all.” “Is this all just for the live stream, to torture sis for ratings?” I couldn’t help but pull out my phone, open the live stream, and there were Mom and Dad responding to the comments. “This is also to toughen her up, you know. Can’t spoil her too much when she’s young. So many kids poorer than her make it through, why shouldn’t she?” “Once the university acceptance letters come out, we’ll let her come home. We won’t shortchange her then, don’t worry.” Watching their replies, a bitter smile touched my lips. They spoke in a condescending tone, saying they wouldn’t “shortchange” me, as if I should be eternally grateful for their charity. Why? Did they truly believe that a single sentence could erase six years of suffering and hardship I’d endured? 4 After the college entrance exams, I immediately began searching for more part-time jobs. I didn’t know if my parents would give me tuition money, but I knew, with absolute certainty, they didn’t love me. The day my exam results were released, I went back to school. Seeing my scores on the computer screen, my teacher beamed. “Willow Hayes, you’re first in our school again this time. I knew you’d get into Eastwood!” After saying goodbye to my teacher, I rushed home, eager to dig out the money I’d meticulously saved for tuition. It was all money I had secretly squirreled away from my part-time job earnings. But when I got home, I was greeted by a scene of chaos. The money I’d hidden was gone. Dad lay sprawled on the couch, snoring loudly, clutching a liquor bottle, the air thick with the stench of alcohol. I lost control, grabbing his shirt and shouting, “Dad! Where’s my money?!” He stirred awake, displeased, and shoved me, muttering curses under his breath. “What are you yelling at your old man for?! Your money is my money! I raised you, I fed you! What’s wrong with me taking some of your money?!” “That was my tuition! I got into Eastwood, I’m going to college!” Dad’s eyes bulged, his face turning menacing. “Study what?! You’re an adult now! Get out there and work for money! Don’t even think about asking me for a dime!” I trembled with rage, tears spilling from my eyes. “No. I’m going to study. If my tuition’s gone, I’ll just earn it myself again.” I threw the words out, firm and resolute, then turned and walked out the door. The sun blazed outside. I instinctively walked towards the local market, where I used to work. But the old vendor wasn’t there anymore. The stall was empty. As I pondered where else to find work, someone blocked my path. It was my own sister, Brooke Hayes. She wore a brand-new designer dress and shoes, a sparkling crystal necklace adorning her slender neck. I instinctively glanced down at my own faded, worn T-shirt and sweatpants, then, embarrassed, avoided her gaze. “Sis, I heard you did really well on your exams. Your name’s on the honor roll at school. So impressive.” She smiled warmly, her voice gentle. “Are you looking for a part-time job here? It’s too dirty. I can set you up with a tutoring gig. It’s for Mom’s friend, so you can trust it.” I saw the undisguised concern on her face, and my heart softened, just a little. I hadn’t expected that, in this moment, she would be the only one willing to help. 5 The tutoring job was far away, but the pay was excellent. The day I was about to save enough for tuition, on my way home from work, I was stopped by several men. Seeing the thuggish men in front of me, I instinctively took two steps back, clutching my backpack tighter. “Well, well, what a pretty little thing. What are you doing out here alone so late? Wanna grab some late-night food with us, doll?” One of them, a punk with bleached blond hair, whistled, eyes glazed with lust as he approached, reaching out to brush my cheek. “Don’t touch me!” I swatted his hand away, trying to break through their circle. But they grabbed my ponytail, and my backpack fell to the ground. They brazenly rifled through my bag, first pulling out my university acceptance letter, then finding the money in a hidden compartment and stuffing it into their pockets. “An Eastwood acceptance letter? A straight-A student, huh? Never tasted a brainy girl before.” “Either you come with us for a late-night bite, or we rip up your acceptance letter.” He leered at me, his gaze disgusting. “Don’t rip it!” I screamed, instinctively reaching for my acceptance letter, but they kicked me to the ground, my clothes tearing with a loud rip. Having never experienced anything like this, my mind went blank. I screamed in protest, curling into a ball. The bleached-blond punk, his face scratched by my nails, tore my acceptance letter to shreds in a fit of rage. “Damn it! You asked for this!” He rummaged in a nearby trash can, pulled out a rusty iron bar, and without hesitation, brought it down on my calf. I screamed, clutching my leg, trembling all over. “Poor sis, she has no idea these thugs were set up by Brooke.” “The tutoring job was just a front. Who’d be that nice? Only sis would fall for it.” Enduring the searing pain in my leg, the chat comments appearing before my eyes completely shattered my already faltering mind. The part-time job I’d so excitedly accepted was just Brooke’s deceptive trap, luring me in. And I, oblivious, had been endlessly grateful to her. The tearing pain in my heart completely overshadowed the physical agony of the beating. “You… were you sent by my sister?” I choked out a mouthful of blood, staring at them, my phone quietly recording. The bleached-blond punk spat at me. “Guess you’ve got some brains. Who told you to piss her off? This is your lesson. Stay away from her from now on!” After that, another flurry of punches and kicks. After they left, I lay curled on the ground, motionless. Every inch of my body screamed with pain, especially my calf. It was probably broken. Gentle footsteps approached. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing Brooke standing not far away, watching me. I whispered, my voice barely audible, “…Call… call 911.” She stared at me for a long moment, unmoving, then slowly a smile curved her lips. She was smiling. A smile that chilled me to the bone. Then she turned and walked away without a backward glance. 6 I don’t know how long I lay there on the ground until someone passing by found me. “Are you okay, miss?” The person was startled by my bruised, bloody, pathetic state. Afraid to move me, they immediately called 911. Finally, I was lifted onto a stretcher and taken to the hospital. When I woke up in the hospital, I found my left leg tightly bandaged and in a cast. The doctor told me I had a fractured tibia in my left calf. Fortunately, the displacement wasn’t severe, so it could be treated conservatively. I thanked the doctor, then called the police. Since Brooke was so vicious and disregardful of our sisterly bond, there was no reason for me to be soft-hearted any longer. I submitted the audio recording to the police and explained the full story. The police stated they would contact Brooke and my parents, and would quickly apprehend the thugs who assaulted me. That same evening, Mom and Dad appeared in my hospital room, carrying nutritional supplements and fruit. The moment she saw me, Mom put on a pained expression. “Oh, Willow, is your leg okay? Those damn thugs, they hit so hard!” Dad’s eyes were red-rimmed, and he shook his head, sighing. “My poor darling daughter, you’ve suffered so much. If you needed money, you should have told Dad, why go so far to be a tutor?” I watched them, performing their act, completely unmoved. I knew perfectly well they weren’t pitying my broken leg; they just wanted me to let Brooke off the hook. Sure enough, after three minutes of feigned concern, they began to reveal their true intentions. “Willow, you and Brooke are sisters. Why must you send your sister to jail? We asked Brooke about this, and she said she had no idea; that thug acted on his own to bother you.” “For the sake of family, just give your sister a letter of understanding. She’s still young. If she goes to jail, what will our relatives and friends think of her?” “I know you’re upset, but if you agree to sign the letter of understanding, we’ll immediately take you back to live in the villa. You won’t have to worry about tuition or living expenses; Mom will cover everything.” I let out a cold laugh. “Didn’t know? When I was being beaten, he said it very clearly: he was there to teach me a lesson because I had angered Brooke.” Mom and Dad’s faces changed instantly. Seeing my unwillingness to cooperate, they began to threaten me. “You don’t have money for medical bills now, do you? You even owe the hospital. If you can’t pay, you’ll be kicked out immediately, won’t you?” “Those thugs who beat you once can beat you again. Do you think you’ll be so lucky every time?” I looked at their twisted expressions, silent for a moment, then said flatly: “I’ll sign the letter of understanding, but I have a condition.” Mom eagerly asked, “What condition?” “Tomorrow morning, you’ll sign the agreement to terminate parental rights with me.” The moment I finished speaking, Mom and Dad exchanged a look and readily agreed. A sarcastic smile touched my lips. Sure enough, they didn’t care about me at all; from beginning to end, their only concern was Brooke. The next day, they showed up in my hospital room early. 7 I pulled out the agreement I had prepared, and Mom snatched it, signing her name without even looking. “Alright, it’s signed. Now you can write the letter of understanding, right?” Calmly, I produced the letter of understanding I’d written last night. Dad snatched it, beaming, and he and Mom walked out of the room. After they left, I sent yesterday’s recording to the police. I opened the live stream. Mom and Dad were broadcasting, boasting about my obedience, while saying they were going to take Brooke on a vacation abroad. They walked up to a luxury car. Brooke, decked in jewels and designer clothes, stepped out, smiling for the camera. Just as they were reveling in their triumph, the police suddenly appeared. “Ms. Hayes, you’re involved in a felony assault case. We need you to come down to the station with us.”

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I found a ring. The moment I slipped it on, Liam Sterling, the hottest guy on campus, fell head over heels for me, pursuing me with a furious intensity. I was just… average. Yet, he swore I was the most beautiful girl in the world. Even his friends thought he’d lost his mind, scoffing that love was truly blind, that he’d mistaken a dull pebble for a dazzling diamond. After six months with Liam, I gradually began to accept this bizarre reality. My defenses crumbled. I let my guard down, opened my heart, and went home with him. But the next morning, my ring was gone. Liam, his eyes wide with panic, shoved me away. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice laced with terror. He broke up with me, painting me as some kind of monster to his friends. “The Sarah I knew wasn’t like this,” he snarled, a visceral disgust twisting his features. “It’s sick. I actually spent half a year with that woman.” Time rewound. The ring had flung me back six months. It turned out this magical artifact could transform me into my crush’s ideal woman. I stared at the ring, a profound unease settling in my chest. This time, I didn’t put it on. Instead, I locked it away, vowing never to touch it again. What I hadn’t expected was that Liam had been dragged back in time with me. 1 After ditching Chloe Evans, she surprisingly didn’t go to the party that night. “Liam didn’t even show up,” she mumbled, looking utterly crestfallen. “He’s apparently sick or something…” I paused, then offered a few words of comfort. “Maybe next time, then.” Chloe latched onto my arm, pouting. “Sarah, you have to come with me to the next gathering. It’s always all guys, and I’m the only girl. It’s so awkward.” I chuckled, gently pushing her hand away. “Why don’t you ask Lucy to go with you instead?” Chloe’s expression flickered. “She’s not going. Please, Sarah, please say you’ll come. I’m begging you!” I knew exactly why Chloe was so desperate to drag me along. Lucy Miller was stunning, and Chloe couldn’t stand anyone stealing her thunder. I, on the other hand, was perfectly plain – a dutiful backdrop, easy to overlook. In my previous life, I’d gone with Chloe to that very gathering. But everyone there had been utterly floored. Liam hadn’t even glanced at Chloe. Instead, his gaze had been utterly fixated on me, the unassuming sidekick. After the party, Liam had launched into a whirlwind courtship. At first, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I figured it was just some twisted game, a prank cooked up by the campus royalty. But Liam’s relentless pursuit and genuine demeanor slowly chipped away at my skepticism. He was undeniably good to me. No matter how much his friends warned him off, he remained steadfast. I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and little by little, he won me over. We became a couple. But the moment I truly gave him my heart, after a night of shared intimacy, Liam transformed. He shrieked, practically throwing me out of his apartment, swearing he’d never seen me before in his life. I felt like I’d fallen straight into hell. Back at the dorm, I realized my ring was gone. I had no choice but to return to Liam’s place to find it. When I got back, Liam was surrounded by his friends. His face was a mask of repulsion, pure nausea etched into every line. “The Sarah I knew wasn’t like this,” he spewed, his voice raw with disgust. “It’s sick. I actually spent half a year with that woman! What the hell happened?!” I stood frozen in the doorway, my soul feeling ripped from my body. The next second, time rewound. I was back before Liam had ever even known me. That very ring, the one that had dropped from my finger, now sat quietly in my desk drawer. I tore open the packaging and pulled out the instructions nestled inside the box. This ring possesses magic. Wear it, and you will become the ideal version of your secret crush. The explanation stated that because my “mission” to win Liam over had failed, the ring had sent me back six months. I stared at the ring, a profound unease churning within me. But I didn’t put it on again. Instead, I locked it away in my closet, vowing never to touch it. 2 A few days later, Chloe was begging me again. Liam had organized another gathering, specifically inviting Chloe and telling her to bring her roommates. “Sarah, please, please, just come with me!” Annoyed, I called out from my bunk, “Liam said you could bring your roommates, right? So everyone in the dorm can go. Why don’t you ask them? Whoever wants to go out with Liam can go.” My words instantly piqued everyone else’s interest. Sure enough, Chloe had kept this a secret from them. Now that everyone knew, they were all buzzing. In the end, everyone in the dorm agreed to go – except for me. Lucy even came over to try and convince me. “Everyone else is going, Sarah. Why don’t you just come along? We’re in college now, it’s time to experience some of that college life!” Lucy’s words made me hesitate. It had been almost a month since I’d come back, and I felt my feelings for Liam had settled, like still water. Maybe a calm approach would help me demythologize him. Besides, this time, without the ring’s magical aura, and with my roommates all being gorgeous, no one would bother me. I could just go for a free meal. Once I agreed, that day I didn’t even bother with makeup. I threw on a hoodie and jeans, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and headed out looking fresh and simple. Liam and his friends had already arrived. It was his buddies who came to pick us up. Just as I’d hoped, I went unnoticed. No one tried to strike up a conversation. I just quietly slipped into the restaurant. Liam was seated in a corner. His clothes were simple, but his handsome face elevated even the most casual attire, making it look like haute couture. He was undeniably good-looking, came from a wealthy family, and there wasn’t a single girl who saw him whose heart wouldn’t quicken. Once I settled into my seat, I heard Chloe’s excited whisper. “Sarah, is Liam looking at us?” I glanced up. My eyes met Liam’s. He was frowning, his gaze sharp and complex, as if trying to bore right through me. My stomach fluttered with an unfamiliar unease. “Yeah,” I mumbled, nodding. “He’s looking at you.” I wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, and once the food arrived, I buried myself in my plate, tuning out all the chatter, utterly detached from the table’s social dance. That was until Lucy nudged me, an awkward flush creeping up her neck. “Sarah…” I looked up. Everyone at the table was staring at me. Liam’s face was dark, a rigid sneer twisting his lips. “Sarah,” Lucy whispered, “Liam just tried to say hello…” Liam chuckled, a hint of mockery glinting in his eyes. “Chloe, is your friend starving? How long has it been since she ate?” A hush fell over the table. Jake Hayes, one of Liam’s friends, was the first to react, quickly jumping in to ease the tension. “What are you talking about, Liam? You just worried there wasn’t enough food, right? Waiter, let’s get a few more dishes.” Liam didn’t respond. I wiped my mouth, then stood up, offering a bland smile to everyone. “My apologies. I skipped lunch and was ravenous. I’ll take a penalty drink. You all just enjoy yourselves, don’t mind me.” I grabbed a soda and chugged it. But Liam’s scowl only deepened. He pressed on, his voice dripping with condescension. “Drinking soda to toast us? That’s not much commitment.” I met Liam’s gaze, my own eyes flat and unreadable. “I’m allergic to alcohol.” Lucy awkwardly tugged at my arm, explaining to Liam, “Sarah really is allergic. One sip and she’s out.” After I sat back down, Liam remained stone-faced, not uttering another word throughout the rest of the meal. I didn’t care what his problem was. After dinner, when they started talking about heading to karaoke, I announced my departure. Chloe offered a hesitant apology. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I don’t know what got into Liam tonight. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood.” I waved it off, saying it was fine. As I walked out, I saw Jake and Liam standing together. “What’s your deal, man?” Jake was saying. “Did you drink too much? Why were you giving that girl such a hard time?” Another friend chimed in, “Yeah, even if she isn’t super pretty, you could’ve just ignored her. You made the whole atmosphere super awkward.” I happened to be walking by at that moment. The group froze, wide-eyed. Jake was the first to recover. “Sarah, you coming to karaoke with us?” I offered him a small smile. “No thanks, you guys have fun. I’m heading back.” Jake started walking toward me. “I can walk you back.” Before I could reply, Liam’s cold voice cut through the air. “Let her walk herself.” 3 I looked at Liam, a spark of anger igniting within me. “Jake, you can walk me.” Jake blinked, surprised, then followed me. “I’ll see Sarah off. You guys go ahead.” Once we were outside, Jake’s curiosity got the better of him. “Did you two know each other before?” “No,” I replied, shaking my head. I flagged down a taxi, then turned to Jake. “What I said back there was just to be spiteful. You should go back. I don’t need you to walk me.” I got into the cab, but Jake was insistent. “It’s late for a girl to be riding alone. I don’t feel good about it.” I let out a soft laugh. “You’re quite the gentleman.” I didn’t talk much to Jake during the ride. When we reached campus, he asked for my number. I didn’t give it to him. Instead, I put on my best ‘too cool for school’ act. “I’m not really looking to date, so… apologies.” Jake’s face flushed. “I wasn’t…” “See ya.” I cut him off, making a swift exit. I knew Jake couldn’t possibly be interested in me. He was just as handsome as Liam, how could he possibly be attracted to someone as ordinary as me? I was just trying to find an excuse to keep all of them at a distance. But from that day on, Jake seemed to have developed an interest in me. He started contacting me frequently. He got my number from Chloe, then started waiting for me after class. Today was no different. He held a coffee cup, asking me out for a meal just outside the classroom. “Got some free time later? Wanna grab a bite?” Chloe, walking out with me, saw Jake approaching me and looked genuinely surprised. “You’re asking Sarah out?” Jake nodded. I, too, was genuinely curious as to why Jake had taken an interest in me. I agreed to have dinner with him. On the way, I asked him, “Do you think I’m pretty? Am I your dream girl?” My blunt questions left Jake speechless. Once I confirmed he wasn’t under any strange spell, I pressed on. “Probably not, right? I’m pretty plain. So why are you asking me out?” Jake considered it. “I think your personality is… interesting.” I offered a faint smile. “Is that so? I’m not entirely convinced.” We continued our conversation, our closeness seemingly growing. Just then, I saw Liam. He stood in the distance, his eyes cold, locked on us. I met his stare, then casually reached out and took Jake’s hand. Jake froze. At the same instant, Liam stormed over, his anger barely contained. He grabbed my arm, yanking me toward him. “Jake, she’s not who you think she is! Wake up!” Liam’s words sent a shiver down my spine. Jake looked utterly bewildered. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with Sarah? Let her go, you’re hurting her!” Jake tried to pull me back, but Liam already had a firm grip on me and started dragging me away. My mind was a tangled mess. I tried to pull free, but his grip was unyielding. He didn’t release me until we reached a secluded spot. Liam’s eyes, dark and stormy, glared at me. “What, Sarah? Couldn’t reel me in, so you switched targets? Are you always this fickle, always so manipulative?”

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1 After my divorce from Clara Reynolds, I found myself with three new card buddies. One was Professor Arthur Harrison, a true titan of legal academia. Another, General Eleanor “Ellie” Thorne, a legendary figure in the military. And the third, Victor Sterling, a renowned investment guru, known throughout the industry. Every day, we’d gather around a table, playing cards with relish. Then one afternoon, my “precious daughter” suddenly showed up at my doorstep. I didn’t even recognize her. “Young lady,” I said, a little gruffly, “this is where us old timers play cards. You don’t really belong here.” She eyed my sprawling penthouse with disdain, refusing to even step inside. “Dad,” she announced, her voice flat, “I’m getting married tomorrow. I came to pick you up for the wedding.” I turned to my three card buddies. “Whose daughter is this? Getting married, she should be home preparing!” Professor Harrison, busy with his hand, didn’t even look up. “My grandson’s old enough to drive,” he mumbled, “she’s definitely not mine.” To my surprise, the girl bristled, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m Maya Reynolds, your daughter!” “Young lady, you must have the wrong house,” I countered, “My daughter’s name is Lily Carter.” “Mom changed my name.” I scrutinized her for a long moment. This vibrant, beautiful girl, with that strangely cold expression, slowly merged with the memory of that soft, sweet little kid I’d adored – indeed, the “nuisance” I’d doted on for seven years. At the time, I was caught up in the thrill of a winning hand. In my good mood, I casually replied, “Marriage? That’s great. You’ve grown into a young woman, it’s time you settled down!” “Come on, Charlie, hurry up! Second game’s about to start! We’re waiting on you!” my friends urged. “Coming, coming,” I chuckled, already grabbing a card. “Here, daughter, here’s an early wedding gift.” I tossed a card to Maya Reynolds, but she angrily swatted it aside. “All you ever do is play cards!” she snapped, her voice tight with indignation. “Your own daughter’s getting married, and I have to come begging you to come? Couldn’t you have prepared anything ahead of time?” My own temper flared. “Are we close? Didn’t you cry and scream that you wanted David Reynolds to be your dad? What are you doing coming to me now?” From the moment she was born, Clara Reynolds had washed her hands of parental duties, claiming she needed to recover. Even with a nanny at home, I worried Maya would feel neglected. I put my thriving career on hold to be fully present: I personally gave her first haircut, brushed her teeth, bathed her, gave her massages every single day… Before kindergarten, she was still my little daddy’s girl, sharing all her secrets with me. But then David Reynolds came back, and everything changed. Once, I saw them – mother, daughter, and David – at a theme park, looking like a picture-perfect family. I wanted to storm over and punch David right there, but my young daughter stopped me. Her tiny, pink fists pounded against my leg. “Go away! All you ever do is stay home, doing nothing! I don’t want you as a dad, I want Uncle David to be my dad!” The punches stung my leg, but the real pain was in my heart. So this is how ruthless human nature is. Even children know how to pick who gives them more. Between the father who gave her love and the mother who gave her wealth, she had unhesitatingly chosen the latter. In that moment, I felt there was no longer any reason to remain in that house. So, we separated, then divorced. Over a decade later, that little ball of fluff stood before me again. She’d never been reprimanded like that. Her face flushed scarlet. “Dad, that’s ancient history! Uncle David doesn’t even care that you hit him! Why are you still holding a grudge? I’m getting married! If you don’t come, where will the Reynolds family put its face?” I rolled my eyes. What did the Reynolds family’s reputation have to do with me, Charlie Carter? Besides, knowing David Reynolds, he’d probably prefer I never showed up. Why would he send his daughter to invite me? “Anyway, I told you! You have to be there tomorrow!” Maya threw the words over her shoulder and walked away, confident that I would still chase after her, doting and fussing, like when she was a child. But then I reconsidered and agreed. I’d almost forgotten those grievances. Since they were coming to me, it was time to reclaim what was mine. 2 The wedding day was Valentine’s Day. I played cards with my old buddies, then headed to the reception. By the time I arrived, the dinner had already begun. I heard the groom was from out of state, the wedding was at the Reynolds’ grand estate, and they’d even hired a celebrity chef. The moment I entered, a security guard stopped me, demanding an invitation. “I didn’t receive one. I’m the bride’s father. Go ask her if she wants me here. If not, I’ll leave.” Just as I turned to go, David Reynolds called out, “Charlie, you made it! Family doesn’t need an invitation. Next time, I’ll kick you out!” He seemed to be scolding the guard, but his lips were practically touching his ears with triumph. I ignored him – in a few days, that smile would vanish. The Reynolds’ grand estate, now ablaze with lights and opulent decor, was unrecognizable from my memories. I walked straight to the head table and sat down. Maya quickly rushed over. “Dad, what are you doing in the main seat? That’s Uncle David’s…” Her words were cut short by a sharp look from Clara. Seeing this, I knew there was a catch: the mother and daughter, biting their tongues, were clearly plotting something against me. David Reynolds, finding his seat taken, awkwardly introduced me to the groom’s parents. “This is Maya’s biological father. We specifically invited him today to witness the children’s happy moment. There was a little misunderstanding back then. Charlie left for over ten years. Now that he’s here today, he should stay a few extra days. Maya misses you too; don’t be mad at her anymore.” His words were designed to nail me to a pillar of shame, proclaiming to the world that I, a grown man, had abandoned my wife and daughter for over a decade out of spite. “Maya, you and your husband should raise a toast to your father.” How ironic. My own daughter had to be told by someone else to toast me. But I no longer cared. “You must be the groom’s father,” I said, looking at him. “It’s a privilege to become family. A truly auspicious fate.” I smirked. The groom’s father was a new money tycoon from Riverton City, Mr. Wallace. He’d tried to join our card club a while back, even offering a briefcase full of cash, but we’d always rejected him. He hadn’t met me in person. He exchanged a few polite words, then left. Ignoring the stares of the other guests, I finished my meal and retired to my room. Meanwhile, Maya, fearing her “Uncle David” might be upset about losing the head seat, fussed over him, playing the role of the devoted daughter. 3 During the banquet, I felt my phone buzzing constantly. Once in the room, I opened it to find dozens of unread messages in our card club group. Leading the charge was Professor Harrison: “So, Charlie, my man, did you work your magic at the party?” “There are a lot of them. Want us to come give you some moral support?” That was General Thorne. “Your ‘dear daughter’ seems like an ungrateful wretch. Just forget about her. We’ve got more money than we can spend in a lifetime; wouldn’t it be better to adopt some grateful kids?” That was Victor Sterling, never missing a chance to flaunt his wealth. Professor Harrison, General Thorne, Victor Sterling, and I formed the card club. Professor Harrison, the “Ace,” came from a scholarly family, dedicating himself entirely to law. Years of hard work paid off; he became famous young and has held a prestigious position as a legal luminary for decades. General Thorne, the “Queen,” was a military brat who followed in her father’s footsteps. Fearless of bloodshed or sacrifice, she embodies the glory of a soldier with her unyielding iron will. Victor Sterling, the “King,” was born into immense wealth. His father’s only wish for him was to be a carefree socialite, as long as he never started a business. But a Midas touch seemed to possess Victor, and every investment he made turned to gold. These past few years, he suddenly retired from the game. In his words, he was tired of being on the richest list and it was time to make way for younger generations. Right after I left the Reynolds family, I felt utterly adrift, locking myself in the house day after day. Then, by chance, I discovered poker, and before I knew it, I’d made these three incredible friends. After more than a decade of friendship, they knew all about my messy past with the Reynolds family. David Reynolds was Clara’s adoptive brother. When Clara was chasing me, he’d follow us everywhere, claiming he was scrutinizing me for Clara’s sake. In the throes of new love, I’d mocked their “deep sibling bond.” Who knew that bond was deep enough to extend to the same bed? Once I discovered their affair, Clara went full scorched earth, loudly declaring to everyone that David Reynolds was her true love. Back then, she hadn’t dared to face her true feelings, afraid that rumors would ruin David’s future. After marrying me, she realized she couldn’t control her passion, couldn’t escape her feelings, and that we had nothing in common anymore. It sickened me. Why didn’t she realize this earlier? The child was six or seven years old before she declared she couldn’t forget her true love. The truth was simply that years ago, my parents were still alive, and the Carter and Reynolds families were equally powerful. The Reynolds family, fearing a broken partnership, even sent David abroad to cut off Clara’s hopes. Now, Clara had risen by stepping on me, with no one to restrain her. And she spoke with such self-righteousness. Cheaters truly have a twisted way of thinking. 4 Old memories haunted my dreams last night, and I woke up in a foul mood. Especially when I saw a crowd gathered in the middle of the Reynolds Estate, I just wanted to stir up some trouble for that family. In the living room, a large group of people watched as Maya and her new husband knelt before David Reynolds. “Dad, thank you for raising me these past ten-plus years. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” I rolled my eyes. As if this ingrate just popped out of a rock. Several cameras were set up, broadcasting live. Professor Harrison sent me a link. “Your daughter’s live-streaming her gratitude to her step-dad. Truly moving to hear, heartbreaking to witness.” “Want me to report them and shut it down? That David guy is still just her secret lover, isn’t he?” “Why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut? Just watch, the ‘other woman’ drama is about to go live.” Meanwhile, David Reynolds was wiping away tears, looking like a proud father marrying off his own daughter, as he handed Maya and her husband a gift envelope. Seeing me, he came over, trying to pull me in. “Charlie, you’re here! Come, sit. Let Maya and her husband kneel to you too.” “Dad, why did you bring him?” Maya grumbled, clearly annoyed. “Charlie, the kids are starting their own family. The young couple needs to make a start. Maya and her husband want to build a major development in Riverton City. There’s a piece of land I remember that’s yours. If you transfer that land to the kids as startup capital for Maya’s wedding, they’ll surely be grateful.” He continued, “Wouldn’t that mend the father-daughter relationship?” His speech was so heartfelt, as if he genuinely cared about our father-daughter bond. If he weren’t eyeing my land, I’d almost applaud him. “That land already has another purpose.” Hearing that the land was unavailable, Maya immediately interrupted me. “The Carter family is in decline. All he does is play cards all day; he probably gambled that land away ages ago. Dad, why bother with this broke old man?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392721”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Eleanor Thorne’s husband of three years, Julian, had a rabid admirer. The girl, Scarlett Quinn, was unremarkable in every way, not particularly attractive, but she pulled out all the stops to force Julian into a divorce, committing outrageous acts. She knelt in the pouring rain on the street for three days and nights just for a glimpse of him; she crashed their wedding in a bridal gown, attempting to abduct the groom; she spiked his drink, shedding her clothes and brazenly attempting to force intimacy… Her insanity had rocked all of Sterling City. Many gossips even placed bets on how long it would take Julian to finally be swayed. Yet Eleanor had never truly worried about her. She was beautiful, wealthy, and successful. She and Julian had been childhood sweethearts for over a decade, having navigated the toughest times together. Most importantly, Julian’s own father had succumbed to temptation and had an affair, ultimately driving Julian’s mother to her death. Julian, therefore, utterly despised those who lacked all decency. Until their wedding anniversary. Eleanor went to Julian’s office to surprise him. Instead, she found Scarlett Quinn, utterly naked, inside. Scarlett’s eyes narrowed, as she lay brazenly on the executive chair, her fingers toying with a wet fountain pen. A soft, suggestive moan escaped her lips: “Julian, gently…” Eleanor felt as if she’d been struck by lightning. Just then, Julian’s voice suddenly sounded from behind her. “Eleanor, why aren’t you coming into the office? I just finished a meeting.” Julian walked over and put an arm around her. Catching sight of the scene in his office, his eyes widened, then narrowed, and he roared, “Scarlett Quinn! What are you doing!?” Caught red-handed, Scarlett showed not a shred of shame. Instead, her movements grew even more brazen. The bodyguards, alerted by the commotion, rushed forward, about to burst in. But Julian moved faster, slamming the door shut, cutting off everyone’s view. His gaze swept the room, finally landing on Eleanor. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke, his voice strained and awkward. “Eleanor, could you… could you go in first and help her get dressed? She is a woman, after all. We should consider her reputation…” At his words, Eleanor froze for a second, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. This wasn’t the first time Scarlett had pulled a stunt like this. A year ago, when Julian was on a business trip abroad, Scarlett had secretly sneaked into his hotel room, stripped, and climbed into his bed. Startled awake, Julian hadn’t bothered about her lack of clothes. He’d simply called security and had her thrown into the hallway. That incident had even caused quite a stir online. But somehow, somewhere along the line, his attitude towards Scarlett seemed to have shifted… The click of the door opening snapped Eleanor from her thoughts. Scarlett was now dressed, her eyes blazing with an obsessive adoration as she stared at Julian’s face. “Julian, I love you. That fountain pen was a gift from me. Let it stay by your side every day, in my place…” As her words hung in the air, the earlier image flashed through Eleanor’s mind. A wave of nausea surged in her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed into the washroom, emptying her stomach until she felt lightheaded. A few minutes later, Eleanor emerged, her face pale, her steps unsteady. She reached the office door, about to speak. But then she saw a sight that chilled her to the bone— Julian picked up the fountain pen, carefully wrapped it in a handkerchief, and gently placed it into his pocket. Eleanor stood frozen, as if plunged into an icy abyss. She knew better than anyone how much Julian had once detested Scarlett. He wouldn’t just discard the gifts Scarlett painstakingly prepared; he would even toss clothes she had touched into a fire, his face contorted in disgust. Yet now, he kept the pen Scarlett had “used”… Seeing Julian about to turn around, Eleanor didn’t dare to think twice. She instinctively spun around and fled, rushing downstairs to hail a taxi home. Once inside, she went straight to her study, retrieving a divorce agreement from the safe. Her fingertips lightly traced Julian’s signature, and memories from the past resurfaced, one by one. Her father-in-law’s affair had been a massive blow to Julian back then. He couldn’t accept that his father, whom he had idolized since childhood, had secretly kept a mistress, a woman even younger than Julian himself. And he had even allowed her to torment his mother to death. Julian had spent his days holed up at home, drinking heavily, the golden boy utterly ruined, fallen from grace. It was Eleanor who had stayed by his side, steadfastly, pulling him out of the darkness, helping him secure control of Vance Corp. That’s why, when they registered their marriage, he personally drafted this agreement. Should their marriage ever dissolve, all his personal assets and half of Vance Corp.’s shares would be hers. Julian had signed it, then personally handed it to her. “My love, if I ever betray you, then sign this divorce agreement. Don’t give me the chance to hurt you!” He had so vehemently despised his unfaithful father back then, yet in the end, he had trodden that very same path himself. Eleanor had witnessed firsthand how Julian’s beautiful, gentle mother had been tormented by a failed marriage, turning into a hysterical, broken woman. Eleanor refused to allow herself to suffer such a fate. After signing her name, Eleanor picked up her phone, retrieved a contact from her blocked list, and composed a text message. [The shares are yours, but the price is double. I want half a billion dollars.] A voice call came through almost instantly. “Miss Thorne, have you finally come to your senses? I’ll transfer the money in a month. I thought your bond was unbreakable, but it seems it was nothing special after all. Why don’t you divorce him and come to me?” Eleanor ignored his taunts, her voice calm. “You have two weeks. After that, the offer is off the table.” With that, she hung up. Eleanor knew that given Julian’s nature, he would never easily agree to a divorce and let her go. So, she needed someone to rein him in, and his fierce rival, Leo Sterling, was the perfect candidate. Footsteps in the living room pulled her back to the present. “Eleanor, why didn’t you call me when you came home? The front desk said you looked upset when you left. Is something wrong?” Seeing no obvious distress in her expression, Julian visibly relaxed. He presented a gift box to her like a prized treasure. “An anniversary gift. See if you like it?” Eleanor’s expression faltered slightly. Half a month ago, she had been traveling abroad with friends when she saw this bracelet at an auction. But the price had exceeded her budget, so she had reluctantly given up on it. She never imagined Julian would buy it for her… “On our wedding day, I told you I would love and protect you for life. Anything you desire, I will fight with all my might to get for you.” His eyes were earnest, his voice solemn. Yet Eleanor merely curved her lips into a faint, cynical smile. What she truly desired was a loyal partner, and Julian was not that. She raised her hand, offering him the box containing the signed divorce agreement. “I’ve prepared a gift for you too. But you have to wait seven days to open it.” A flicker of confusion crossed Julian’s eyes, but he obediently nodded. “Alright. I’ve booked your favorite restaurant. After dinner, we can go for a stroll.” With that, he gave Eleanor no chance to refuse, pulling her into the car. All the way, he chatted about amusing things, trying to lift her spirits. But Eleanor remained silent. Ten minutes later, Julian’s phone suddenly rang. Seeing “Scarlett Quinn” flash on the screen, Eleanor’s body stiffened imperceptibly. Hadn’t Julian blocked her number ages ago? While she was still bewildered, Julian had already answered the phone, letting out an impatient roar. “Are you ever going to stop!? I told you, stop bothering me! Can’t you understand plain English?” Scarlett’s trembling voice came from the other end. “Julian, someone’s following me. I’m scared. Can you come pick me up…?” Julian paused, but his tone remained cold. “You should call the police. Telling me is useless.” With that, he ruthlessly hung up. The shrill ringing echoed again and again in the silent car. Eleanor finally broke the silence, her voice icy. “I don’t feel like dinner anymore. You should go find Scarlett.” Before she finished, Julian cut her off. “Don’t mind her. With her kind of reputation, who would even bother following her? And even if someone was, it serves her right for being so shameless…” Despite his words, Julian’s tightly furrowed brow and the surging speed of the car betrayed his inner unease. Eleanor was about to warn him that he was speeding. Then, a black sedan suddenly darted out from the left intersection. Her pupils instantly constricted. CRASH! A deafening roar, and the world spun violently. In a daze, Eleanor felt someone pulling her from the wreckage. Julian’s voice was frantic. “Eleanor, how are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?” The searing pain in Eleanor’s chest made it almost impossible to breathe. “It… hurts…” Her faint voice was swallowed by the incessant ringing of Julian’s phone. This time, Scarlett’s voice was thick with desperate sobs. “Julian, I’m so scared. Please, please help me.” Before Julian could speak, a few more screams echoed from the other end, then the call disconnected. His face instantly changed. “Eleanor, I’ve checked. You have no external injuries. The ambulance will be here soon. Wait here… I’ll be right back after I deal with this!” With that, he gently laid Eleanor on the roadside and rushed away. The intense pain blurred Eleanor’s consciousness. She couldn’t speak, could only watch helplessly as Julian got into a passing taxi. Then, her vision swam with black spots, and she completely lost consciousness. Eleanor opened her eyes again two days later. The nurse, changing her bandages, stopped her from sitting up. “Don’t move. You have a fractured rib that nearly punctured an organ, which could have caused a major hemorrhage. You need to rest properly in the hospital for a few days.” With that, she called Julian, who was waiting anxiously outside the room. His eyes were bloodshot, his face etched with anguish. “Eleanor, does it hurt? I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault for causing your injuries. You don’t know how worried and scared I was when the doctor said your condition was critical. Thankfully, you’re alright in the end, or I wouldn’t be able to live either…” Eleanor’s voice was hoarse as she interrupted him. “How is Scarlett?” At her question, Julian’s expression stiffened for a second. “She’s fine. The whole ‘being followed’ thing was fake. I was just worried about her, being a young girl. What if something really did happen…? Eleanor, don’t worry, I promise I won’t pay any attention to her ever again!” Eleanor looked at the fresh bite marks on his neck, her heart feeling as if it were being sliced by a thousand phantom blades, each breath carrying a sting. She forced herself to pull her hand away. “I’m tired.” After that day, Julian stayed glued to her side, never leaving. He even avoided sleeping at night, terrified she might accidentally jostle her wound. In just a few days, he had lost a significant amount of weight, looking even more haggard than a patient. Yet, Eleanor felt nothing. One afternoon, she was taking a nap when a shrill shriek suddenly echoed from outside the room. Scarlett Quinn stood in the center of the crowd, a deep gash marring her right wrist, her left hand still tightly clutching a dagger. Her voice was piercing. “Julian Vance, you finally came to see me! For three whole days, no matter if I called or texted, you ignored me! What did I do wrong? Why are you doing this to me?!” Blood slowly pooled at her feet. Julian’s face was ashen. “I’ve made it clear to you, Scarlett. I will never love you. Don’t ever bother me again!” With that, he turned to leave, but Scarlett’s shriek stopped him. “Julian! You can’t leave! Or I’ll die right here!” Before anyone could react, she savagely sliced her wrist several more times. Blood gushed forth, instantly staining half of her body crimson. Julian rushed forward, his face etched with terror, covering her wound with his hands. “Scarlett Quinn! Are you trying to die?!” Scarlett’s entire face was utterly drained of color. But she seemed to feel no pain, her eyes fixed on him in a desperate, unwavering stare. “As long as I can be with you, even throwing my life away is worth it.” Julian looked at her, his expression complex. His voice was strained. “I think you’ve truly gone mad…” Before he finished, he scooped up Scarlett’s limp body and strode quickly towards the operating room. Eleanor watched his receding back in silence. That night, Julian didn’t return. He only arranged for a nurse aide. In the hallway, a nurse whispered to a colleague after completing her rounds. “Did you hear? That crazy girl, the one named Quinn, lost so much blood today. She almost didn’t make it off the operating table. Mr. Vance had to spend a fortune to get blood transferred just to save her!” “Didn’t they say Mr. Vance hated her? Why would he go to such lengths to save her?” “Hate her? If you ask me, it’s all an act for his wife. Who would refuse a woman throwing herself at them?” Eleanor curved her lips in a self-deprecating smile. Yes, who would refuse a woman throwing herself at them? She was the only fool who truly believed Julian wouldn’t be swayed by Scarlett… Thankfully, she had finally seen the light. On the day she was discharged, Eleanor completed her paperwork herself. As she stepped out of the hospital, about to hail a taxi, she saw Julian approaching. “Why didn’t you wait for me? Why did you come out on your own?” As he spoke, he smoothly took off his jacket, intending to drape it over Eleanor’s shoulders, but she sidestepped him. His hands froze mid-air, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Eleanor, are you mad at me? I’m so sorry. The company has been incredibly busy these past few days, I just couldn’t find the time. But I asked the nurse aide about your condition every day. Please, forgive me, just this once?” By the end, his eyes were visibly red-rimmed, his voice tinged with a tremor. Noticing passersby casting curious glances, Eleanor, not wanting to be an object of public scrutiny, mumbled a vague assent and got into the car first. On the road, Julian kept trying to engage her in conversation. But Eleanor had no desire to play along, so she simply closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. After what felt like an eternity, the car slowly pulled to a stop. She opened her eyes, finding they were outside a restaurant. “Eleanor, we missed our anniversary celebration last time. I’m making it up to you today.” Julian walked around and opened the car door for her. The restaurant had been meticulously decorated, with flowers adorning every visible surface. The central dining table was laden with all of Eleanor’s favorite dishes. They sat opposite each other. Julian, just as he used to, served her food, spooned soup into her bowl, peeled shrimp, and deshelled crab. The atmosphere was so harmonious it was as if no rift had ever existed between them. Until the waiter brought over a cake. Eleanor’s fingers paused. She was about to say something, but Julian stood up, cut a slice, and placed it in front of her. “The other day, you mentioned wanting mango cake. I made this myself. Try it, tell me if it’s good?” Meeting his expectant gaze, she sighed wearily. “Julian, I didn’t say I wanted mango cake. Besides, I’m allergic to mango.” Her words coincided with the special notification tone from Julian’s phone. He picked up his phone. With just one glance, his face changed. “Eleanor, something’s come up at the company. I need to go now. Can you take a taxi home after you finish eating?” Eleanor said nothing, merely nodding silently. Watching him walk out of the restaurant, she stood up and hailed a taxi by the roadside. “Please follow that car ahead.” The car finally stopped outside a tattoo parlor. Eleanor stepped out, and as she reached the second floor, she heard a furious roar. “Why aren’t you staying in the hospital? What are you doing causing trouble here?!” Julian’s face was etched with undisguised fury, but also a worry he couldn’t hide. Yet Scarlett showed no fear. In fact, her lips curved into a smile at his appearance. “It’s my birthday today, so I got myself a present.” With that, she turned her back to him, slowly raising her hands and taking off her top. Revealing a large, fresh tattoo on her back. Perhaps because it was newly done, her skin was still red and weeping slightly. But it was unmistakably Julian’s portrait! Julian raised his hand, lightly tracing the tattoo, his voice hoarse. “I told you, I only love Eleanor in this life. Why must you…?” He clenched the hand hanging by his side, his deep eyes churning with dark, unreadable emotions. Scarlett, naked from the waist up, walked towards him, step by deliberate step. “From the moment you saved me, the meaning of my life has been to love you. I’ve loved you for eight whole years. You’ve consumed my entire existence. If I don’t have you, I’d rather just die!” As her words fell, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. That fleeting kiss seemed like a key, unlocking the shackles deep within Julian’s heart. He could no longer control the surging emotions and clamped a hand on the back of Scarlett’s head, deepening the kiss. Eleanor’s nails dug deep into her palms. Despite being prepared, seeing this scene firsthand felt like a gaping wound tearing through her heart. The pain made her eyes sting with tears. Inside the room, the sounds of their lips meeting grew bolder, unmistakably intimate. Eleanor wiped away her tears, turned, and strode away. Back home, she meticulously packed all the gifts and jewelry Julian had given her over the years and listed them online. Perhaps because the prices were surprisingly low, orders came in quickly. The next morning, Eleanor was still asleep when her bedroom door suddenly swung open. “Eleanor, why did you sell our wedding rings?!” Julian was half-kneeling by the bed, his face etched with panic. “We promised we’d never be apart. Are you angry? What did I do wrong? Tell me, I’ll fix everything, won’t I?” Looking at the distinct bite marks beneath his collar, Eleanor longed to ask him, Don’t you know what you did wrong? But in the end, she asked nothing. She merely uttered a casual lie. “Yesterday, while tidying, I sold some jewelry I didn’t like. The wedding rings must have gotten mixed in by accident.” Despite the glaring flaws in her explanation, Julian believed her. “Eleanor, don’t do something like that again. You don’t know how scared I was. We can never be apart…” Was he only scared because she sold the wedding rings? What would his reaction be if he knew they were already divorced? Eleanor lowered her head, hiding the mockery in her eyes. Perhaps sensing her low spirits, Julian canceled all his work commitments, dedicating himself entirely to staying home with her. He personally cooked for her, made her soups; he sent her a bouquet of fresh flowers every day; he purchased countless pieces of jewelry; he acquired a new lavish estate for her; he even arranged a city-wide fireworks display that captivated everyone… The top trending post every day was titled, “Guess what surprise Mr. Vance prepared for his wife today?” Everyone envied their deep affection. But only Eleanor knew that for everything Julian prepared, Scarlett also received a duplicate. He had, in the end, become the very person he once despised… Late the night before her departure, Eleanor got up for a drink of water and heard Julian on the balcony talking on the phone. “Mr. Vance, Miss Quinn swallowed an entire bottle of pills. She’s extremely agitated and refusing to cooperate with our emergency treatment. Please, try to talk her into it!” Julian irritably pinched the bridge of his nose. “Put her on the phone.” The next instant, a hysterical scream tore from the other end. “Julian Vance! I want you to divorce Eleanor right now, or I swear I won’t accept treatment even if I die!” Her madness and stubbornness could be felt through the phone. But this time, Julian didn’t compromise. His voice was cold. “Scarlett Quinn, I’ve told you, I will not divorce Eleanor. Even if you threaten to die, I won’t give in. That’s my red line.” The last sentence carried an undeniable firmness. A cynical smile touched Eleanor’s lips. He had already slept with Scarlett, yet he was still putting on an act of profound devotion, clinging to this broken marriage. A long silence followed on the other end of the line, then a soft sob. “Then… then will you come see me? Julian, stomach pumps are so awful. I just… I just want to see you…” After a long pause, Julian sighed wearily. “Alright. Be a good girl and wait for me at the hospital.” He hung up the phone, pulled a sticky note from the table, and scribbled a few lines. [Eleanor, urgent company business requires me to travel for two days. Be a good girl and eat your meals. I’ll be back to take you to the beach to clear your head.] Then he grabbed his jacket and strode away without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that Eleanor emerged from the bedroom and began packing her suitcase. After an unknown period, muffled, suggestive sounds drifted from the media room. She frowned and walked over, pushing open the door. Her body stiffened as she saw what was playing on the large screen— Scarlett, scantily clad, was draped over Julian, her face flushed. “Julian, I miss you so much. Please, take me…” Her hand slowly reached towards him. Julian’s breath hitched, his throat working, his eyes darkening with desire. “You asked for this,” he muttered, “so no matter how intense it gets, you’ll endure it.” The next moment, he reversed their positions, pulling her beneath him. Low, guttural breaths mingled with Scarlett’s soft moans. His hands gripped her waist tightly, pressing kisses along her neck… Eleanor’s stomach churned. She could no longer control herself and rushed to the bathroom, emptying her stomach in a fit of revulsion. She spent the night in a numb stupor in the living room. As dawn broke, her phone received a text message. Eleanor saw the half a billion dollars transferred into her account, and the pent-up frustration in her heart immediately dissipated. She called a courier to deliver the signed stock transfer agreement to Leo Sterling’s company. Then, she picked up her suitcase and walked out. But she never expected that as she pushed open the door, she would see a familiar figure. Scarlett Quinn was still wearing her hospital gown, her face ghostly pale, as if she might faint at any second. Recalling the scene in the video, Eleanor felt a wave of disgust. She turned away, her face cold, intending to leave. But Scarlett suddenly reached out and blocked her path. Her voice was hoarse. “Eleanor Thorne, I’m the one who truly loves Julian, so why did he marry you? Even when I swallowed an entire bottle of pills, almost dying, he still wouldn’t agree to divorce you! Why?!” As she spoke, Scarlett’s eyes turned bloodshot, glaring at her with venomous hatred. An inexplicable chill rose in Eleanor’s heart. She was about to say that they were already divorced, but before she could open her mouth, Scarlett clamped a towel over her mouth and nose. As consciousness faded, she heard a cold sneer. “Since he doesn’t want a divorce, then it can only be… widowhood.”

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