Category: English

“Here’s a hundred dollars for the elderly. You spend it, I’ll pay for it.” While filming on the streets, I ran into an elderly man named Arthur who lived alone. With this “huge sum” of one hundred dollars, he showed the entire internet the power of a hundred-dollar bill. The video went viral. Arthur became famous, and so did I. But with fame came Arthur’s relatives, whom he hadn’t contacted in decades. And the situation seemed to gradually spiral out of my control. 1 I’m a vlogger who films “Here’s a hundred dollars, you spend it, I’ll pay for it” challenges on the streets. My main target group is the elderly. One day, I met Arthur, an old man who was collecting recyclables on the street. “Sir, here’s a hundred dollars. Buy whatever you want, I’ll foot the bill.” When I first met Arthur, his naive and charming smile moved me. “Child, I can’t take a reward without merit.” After my explanation, Arthur finally agreed, albeit embarrassed. In my previous series featuring spirited young girls, most would head straight for a Starbucks or bubble tea. But Arthur went straight to a food cart. “Boss, give me two plain buns.” One bun costs 50 cents. Total spent: $1. “Sir, you still have $99 left.” Arthur opened the warm bun with satisfaction and held it up to my mouth. “Child, do you want some?” I waved my hand. Arthur nodded to himself as if realizing something, and started eating. He looked at me with a face full of kindness. “You guys were born in a good era, no worries about food or drink.” Arthur ate one bun and tucked the other away, saying he’d save it for lunch. He opened a somewhat dirty water bottle and drank a few mouthfuls of cold water. Arthur had been out collecting recyclables since 5 AM. He said if he came out late, others would pick them all. Sometimes he was out all day, so lunch was just a quick bite to keep him going. I pointed to the supermarket ahead and asked if he wanted to buy something inside. “Can you buy me a pack of cigarettes?” Arthur asked, looking a bit ashamed. I thought to myself, he must be a heavy smoker. Despite being frugal, he splurged on a $12 pack of cigarettes. “Sir, $99 minus $12 leaves $87.” Since it was spend-as-you-please, I didn’t say anything. I pointed at the supermarket and asked if he wanted to buy anything else. To my surprise, Arthur left the pack of cigarettes on the counter. “Sir, your cigarettes,” the supermarket owner and I said simultaneously. Arthur waved his hand, full of gratitude towards the owner. “You give me so many cardboard boxes every time without charging me. This is for you. I see you often smoke this brand.” The owner was very surprised that the cigarettes were a gift for him. I felt ashamed of my narrow-mindedness just now. Leaving the supermarket, Arthur took me to a nearby open-air market, saying things there were cheaper. Arthur headed straight for a grain and oil stall. Seeing the white flour, his eyes sparkled. “How much is this flour?” “$2.50.” “Give me five pounds.” “What about rice?” “$3.” “Give me five pounds.” “Do you have salt?” “Two bags.” Arthur picked up some eggs. When the shopkeeper held open a bag and told him they were $4.50 a pound, Arthur was startled and hurriedly put them down. It was obvious he wanted to eat them but found them too expensive. I took the bag and handed it back to Arthur. “Sir, you spend, I pay. Just buy them.” Arthur carefully picked out four eggs. “This is too few, not even enough for one a day.” “Girl, I want to eat one a week.” I looked at Arthur in shock. “One a week?” I packed twenty eggs for him. “Sir, you need three or four just to make scrambled eggs. If your children come back, these four eggs won’t even be enough for one meal.” Arthur stopped me and gently took the eggs out one by one. “Child, I have no children, just me. That rice and flour are enough for me to eat for a month.” Arthur looked nearly eighty; how could he have no children? 2 Calculating these items, the total was $36.50. The owner rounded it down, leaving $51. $36.50 is barely enough for me to have a decent meal out, but exchanged for rice and flour, Arthur could eat for a month. I was truly shocked; it felt like Arthur and I were using different currencies. I asked Arthur what else he needed. He looked troubled, but his eyes fell on the meat stall by the street. “Sir, want to get a piece of meat?” Arthur’s eyes flashed with joy, but he asked me, “Is meat expensive?” “Sir, don’t you know how much meat is per pound?” Arthur waved his hand and said he hadn’t eaten meat in a long time. I walked to the pork stall and asked for a pound of pork. Pork was $6 a pound, which I didn’t think was expensive, but Arthur pulled me back. “Let’s eat chicken, chicken is cheaper.” “But pork and chicken don’t taste the same, Sir.” My words made Arthur laugh. With $6 for meat, $35 remained. “This… what else to buy?” Arthur was in a dilemma. “How about we stop here, girl? This is already a lot of stuff.” I never knew spending a hundred dollars could be so difficult. The era of electronic payments had long made me lose the concept of spending money. I gently reminded Arthur if there was anything he usually couldn’t bear to buy. Arthur thought for a moment and said he wanted to buy a power strip. I went to the hardware store and bought a power strip for Arthur. Holding it, he muttered, “If only I had a power strip earlier, my home wouldn’t have caught fire.” “Sir, your home caught fire?” “Yeah, burned down completely.” My heart sank. Only then did I notice the somewhat blackened and tattered clothes on Arthur. Turns out they were burned by fire. A power strip costs only $18, but Arthur lost a home because of $18. So I decided that after filming, I must go home with Arthur to take a look. “Sir, $17 left. What else do you want to buy?” “Buy a bar of soap, and a tube of toothpaste.” Arthur chose the cheapest ones, totaling $8. “Sir, $9 left. Do you want to buy some vegetables?” Arthur nodded and picked some potatoes and radishes, $1.50 a pound. Not only cheap but most importantly, these two can be stored for a long time. A total of four pounds, two big bags of vegetables, leaving $2. An old lady with a hunched back and white hair by the street whispered, “Want spinach? I grew it myself, just dug it up this morning. $1 a pound, one bundle is a pound.” The rows of small spinach were neatly arranged on her stall, not a single yellow leaf. It was obvious the old lady was meticulous, but other vendors sold spinach for $2.50 a pound. She sold it for $1 and whispered, probably afraid of upsetting the other vendors. Arthur turned around. “Give me a pound.” Arthur whispered in my ear, “Girl, give her the remaining $2.” I paused for a moment, then nodded. The old lady asked me casually what I was doing. I said I was filming videos, helping elderly people at random. Hearing this, the old lady looked kind. “Good child.” While talking, the old lady stuffed an extra bundle into the plastic bag. I was about to say I only wanted one pound. But the old lady signaled me to be quiet. “This bundle is a gift from me. Don’t tell the old man; it’s not easy for him at his age. I want to do something good too.” Her words were recorded in my phone video. The old lady didn’t know her act of kindness would open a brand new path for her in the future. The mutual kindness between two people warmed my heart. At the same time, this video went viral. Arthur went viral, and so did I. 3 The comments section exploded. [This hundred dollars was spent so worthily!] [Your hundred dollars and my hundred dollars seem different!] [So the price of one eyebrow pencil can buy so many things?] [This is the real life of people at the bottom!] [Simple and honest old man, my heart aches watching this!] [Can the blogger visit the old man’s home? I’m willing to donate money to help him.] … I updated with the tragic state of Arthur’s home. The fire indeed burned away his lifelong possessions. Arthur showed me the skin on his leg burned by the fire, which had become inflamed and adhered. I asked Arthur why he didn’t go to the hospital. He just shook his head and said the hospital was too expensive, he couldn’t afford it. He told me not to worry; he had already bought burn ointment from the clinic. I immediately took Arthur to the hospital. The doctor dressed his wounds and removed the dead tissue. Arthur didn’t even frown during the whole process. I asked him if it hurt. Arthur just said lightly, “This little injury is nothing compared to what I went through back in the day.” The doctor called me to get medicine, and I booked a full physical examination for Arthur while I was at it. I told Arthur that kind-hearted netizens online wanted to help him rebuild his house and treat his illness. He asked me what kind of “friend” a netizen (internet friend) is? I smiled and explained, “It’s a group of like-minded people from all over the country.” Arthur nodded with a smile and said, “So they are comrades, right?” I thought about it and agreed completely, “That’s right.” Originally having only over a hundred thousand followers, I gained millions overnight. Arthur’s story touched the hearts of tens of thousands of netizens. We built a house for him, furnished it, bought a fridge and color TV, and filled the fridge with pork, eggs, and fresh vegetables. Arthur was moved beyond words. Nearing eighty, he stood in front of the camera wiping his tears. A few days later, an account posted several videos in succession, including screen recordings of my live stream, with eye-catching titles: [Ten minutes of non-stop “Carnival” gifts, yet only built a house for Old Man Arthur?] [Eighty-year-old man exploited miserably!] A “Carnival” gift costs about a few hundred dollars after the platform’s cut. Ten minutes could yield two or three thousand dollars. The total gifts for one night would be around four thousand. This assumes over 100k viewers online, which isn’t the usual case. Another video title: [Using netizens’ sympathy to pay for her luxury goods!] The picture was me buying luxury goods at a counter, but I was buying a bag for my mom, unrelated to the live stream. But netizens ignored this. The narrative was quickly swayed, and comments flooded in asking me to disclose my live stream income. I hired someone to investigate the account posting this information and found out the person claimed to be Arthur’s nephew and niece. But previously I learned from Arthur that he had no children. These nephew and niece didn’t appear when Arthur was helpless before, so why did they suddenly pop up now? Just as I was confused, the hospital where Arthur had his physical exam called me, saying the report was out. He was sick. 4 The doctor told me Arthur had stomach cancer. With active treatment, there was hope. I immediately arranged hospitalization and told the doctor we would fully cooperate with the treatment, and money was not an issue. When I returned to the ward after arranging everything, a man and a woman were busy inside. Seeing me enter, Arthur enthusiastically introduced them as his nephew and niece. The two looked at me with shifty eyes. I felt they didn’t come with good intentions. Arthur mentioned before that he never married and didn’t keep in touch with relatives. How could a nephew and niece suddenly pop up? Plus the inexplicable comments online before, I feared they had ulterior motives. But seeing the long-lost smile on Arthur’s face, I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue. “Uncle, at critical moments, it has to be family. Outsiders won’t treat you sincerely.” “You are like my own father from now on. No difference between uncle and father. We will take care of you until the end.” “Exactly. Outsiders only use you as a money tree. What’s that word? Right, right, a tool.” Arthur scoffed, “What money tree can I be at my age?” His nephew deliberately raised his voice, “Using you to gain sympathy, tricking netizens into sending gifts. I heard they can make over ten thousand a night.” Arthur looked at his nephew in disbelief. “Can make that much?” His niece glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “Exactly. Making a hundred thousand a week is easy. How much does it cost to build a shabby house for you? Just dismissed you like that. Who knows whose conscienceless pocket the rest of the money went into!” His nephew stood up and threw the towel into the basin, splashing water on my face. Relying on his burly figure, he walked up to me and threatened, “Return my uncle’s money, or you’ll be in trouble!” His fierce look was obviously meant to scare me, but I wasn’t a pushover. Before I could speak, his niece came up and slapped me across the face. “Young but not doing human deeds, earning money from the elderly, money against conscience. Careful of karma, ending up an old maid no one wants.” I had never been hit since I was little. Before her hand could drop, I grabbed her pinky and bent it upwards. She screamed in pain. While she was screaming, I grabbed her hair and pulled it back. I forced her to look up at me and asked fiercely in her ear, “Is not getting married the biggest curse you have for a woman?” “Then I wish you a disabled pinky and a bald patch on your scalp.” My hand kept bending her pinky backward. She cried in pain, but her mouth remained foul. “Bitch, let go of me. Ah… it hurts… Brother, save me.” The nephew stepped forward to push me away but was held back by Arthur behind him. The nephew shook off Arthur, pulling him from the hospital bed to the floor. A stark contrast to the filial appearance just now. “Don’t fucking pull me.” Arthur hugged the nephew’s leg tightly on the floor, almost pleading, “John, what are you doing?” Hospital security arrived upon hearing the noise and stopped the farce. The doctor asked who the family was. The nephew and niece straightened their backs and stepped forward. “We are the family, the insiders. As for other idle people, I think your hospital should kick them out.” “Okay, then come with me to pay the fees. Ensure there are sufficient funds on the card.” “What? Pay… pay how much?” “Deposit five thousand first.” Hearing this, the nephew and niece immediately stepped back and pointed at me. “Money, she pays.” Mention money and family ties are gone. I paid the money and heard the nephew and niece whispering in the corridor. “Tonight we’ll use our own account to live stream the old man. Can’t let that bitch earn another cent. Look how generous she is, paying five thousand just like that. How much has she earned using the old man!”

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Because I did so many good deeds in my past life, the King of Hell promised I’d be reincarnated into a wealthy family. I meticulously picked through the list of billionaires. Ugly? Pass. Stupid? Pass. Short life expectancy? Pass. Too many rules? Pass. Dysfunctional family? Pass… No, no, no! Before I could choose the perfect family, the King of Hell stopped me. “Your best friend used a Fate Token to make a wish. She wants you to be reincarnated as her daughter.” What? My best friend? The one who lives in a shack, dropped out of college, and is dating a fat, ugly loser? That doormat?! 1 “What were you thinking?!” Looking around my best friend’s rented, dilapidated apartment, my resentment was heavier than a thousand-year-old ghost’s. If she didn’t give me a good explanation today, I was going to take her with me. Solve the problem at the source, so I wouldn’t be reincarnated as her daughter and live a poor life again. Chloe sobbed: “I’m sorry, Harper. I didn’t know you could be reincarnated as a trust fund baby. “I saw the birth rate was so low, I was afraid you’d be reallocated to a third-world country! I’m sorry, waaah…” “Well, thank you so much!” If I really had to choose between Chloe and a random third-world country, I would actually choose Chloe. But there is no “if”! My life as a wealthy socialite! Gone! “How about… I make another wish? I don’t want you to be my daughter anymore. You can go back to being a rich kid?” “Do you think this is Amazon? Seven-day no-questions-asked return policy?” If it weren’t for the ancient Fate Token passed down in Chloe’s family, the King of Hell wouldn’t care what she wished for. If I knew that token was so effective, Chloe should have just restarted her life. Reincarnated with me as wealthy sisters. Instead of shrinking in this run-down apartment, being a poor mother-daughter duo. “Harper, don’t be sad. “I swear, I will treat you well! “Although I can’t give you a wealthy life, I will give you the best I can!” Chloe looked so sincere, like a scumbag making promises. But I’m not love-struck; I’m very sober! “The best you can give me is living in this garbage dump, eating and sleeping with rats and cockroaches?” I pointed at the mountain of trash and the sour leftovers in takeout boxes. Just as I spoke, a dark, unidentified creature scurried across the corner. Chloe skillfully took off her shoe and threw it, but missed. Standing on one foot, she twisted the hem of her shirt shyly: “I usually clean up. I’ve been so busy handling your funeral these past few days, I got dizzy.” The harsh words on the tip of my tongue were swallowed back. True, besides her, no one else collected my body. 2 The police called my parents. A criminal with a knife broke into the kindergarten. To stall him and give the kids time to escape, I was stabbed seventeen times and died. Their first question was: How much is the compensation? Then they came in a hurry, collected the compensation money in a hurry, rushed back home in a hurry, and bought a house for their precious son, “Glory of Ancestors,” to get married in a hurry. But they didn’t even come to see me once, not even in a hurry. Instead, it was this idiot Chloe, crying until her eyes were swollen like walnuts. Running around busily. She didn’t take a penny, even spent her own money to handle my funeral. Luckily she was fast. Otherwise, my parents, after reacting, would have sold me for a “ghost marriage” to scrape together some renovation money for my “good brother.” I wonder if this coward Chloe fainted when she saw the big hole in my stomach. Looking at Chloe standing in front of me, twisting her fingers like a child who did something wrong. My nose felt sour. But I was still so angry! “Throw all this trash out! Wipe everything down with disinfectant three times! “And scrub the toilet five times!” Hearing my fierce command, Chloe laughed instead of crying: “Mission accepted!” Chloe huffed and puffed as she worked, and I supervised every step. Everything seemed peaceful. Until the old door was banged loudly, “Bang bang bang!” “Open the door!” 3 As soon as the door opened, a drunken man lost his support and fell to the ground. The stench of alcohol quickly occupied the entire room. I was so busy despising Chloe’s poverty that I forgot she had a stingy, fat, ugly boyfriend. Just a glance, and my eyes were burning. Fat enough that his eyes were slits, bald enough to be a mirror, short enough to be a cane. And a hairy mole on his chin. Chloe isn’t my best friend; she’s my mortal enemy! Not only does she want me to be poor in my next life, she wants me to be short, ugly, and poor! “You plan to have me with this thing?!” I roared at Chloe, stirring up a ghostly wind. Barry, helped onto the sofa by Chloe, shivered. The layers of fat on his body rippled. Chloe looked at Barry, confused: “What’s wrong, Harper? Is there something wrong with Barry?” “Everything is wrong! “Short, fat, bald, beady eyes, upturned nose, and a huge mole. You really aren’t picky! “If you dare marry him and let his inferior genes contaminate my noble chromosomes, I’ll take you away right now!” Chloe was still defending him: “Barry said he used to be very handsome, he just gained weight now.” Does she think I have amnesia? From the first time Chloe brought Barry to meet me, he looked like this ugly mess. Before, I didn’t want to interfere with other people’s fate, so I didn’t say much. But now. Damn it, if I don’t interfere, he’ll really become my dad! Seeing I didn’t believe her, Chloe pulled out a photo on her phone to prove it. “Look!” I leaned in to look; it was like a different person. The person in the photo wasn’t bald, wasn’t fat, looked clean, and was vaguely handsome. “Harper, don’t worry. I’ll talk to Barry about marriage and pregnancy tomorrow, make him lose weight properly. I promise to give birth to you in the best condition!” Chloe looked at me pitifully. Should I just… let it go? “Thirsty! Chloe, Chloe! Where the hell did you die to!” 4 “Coming!” Chloe abandoned me, poured a glass of warm water, and brought it to Barry’s lips. Just one sip, and he sprayed the water onto Chloe’s face. “You want to scald me to death?!” Warm water dripped down Chloe’s chin. “You drank too much alcohol, it’s better to drink some warm water,” Chloe said gently. Barry snatched the glass from Chloe’s hand and smashed it at her: “I want ice water!” The cheap glass hit Chloe’s forehead, leaving a purple bruise. Then it fell to the ground, shattering. I suddenly remembered the bruises I saw on Chloe from time to time over the past year. She explained that she accidentally bumped into things while delivering cakes to customers. At that time, I scolded her for being stupid while applying medicine. “Just bake cakes in the shop properly, hire someone for delivery, give yourself a break, okay?” I deliberately pressed hard on her wound, hoping she would remember. She grimaced in pain but didn’t agree. Just gave a fawning, cowardly smile. Now it seems, it wasn’t that she wouldn’t let herself off the hook, it was Barry who wouldn’t let her go! “Chloe, are you an idiot? He hit you, can’t you hit back?!” Chloe was startled by my sudden roar. “Harper, don’t be angry, Barry is just drunk. He usually treats me well.” “Bullshit! I only believe what I see! And I see him treating you like a slave!” I’ve known Chloe since we were kids; she loves cleanliness. Even if she’s been too busy to touch the ground these past few days, she would never let trash pile up like a mountain. It must be that she was so busy she didn’t come home, and the room was ruined by this fat pig Barry like a pigsty. Now, he dares to order Chloe around like an emperor. I really can’t stand it! “Chloe, slap him right now!” But Chloe hesitated, looking troubled: “Harper…” And Barry, having waited for a long time, was very impatient: “Chloe, water!” “Coming!” Chloe avoided my gaze. Fled to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of cold Coke, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to Barry: “Drink slowly, don’t choke.” Ahhh! This damn love-brain! Look at Chloe’s cowardly appearance. If she really gives birth to me with this fat pig, will I also be enslaved by him? In the future, Chloe feeds him, and I wash his feet? I can’t accept this! In a rage, I floated back to the Underworld. Crying and begging the King of Hell: Can’t I really change people?

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I’d spent half the night fighting the airline’s website just to snag this miserable Economy seat, and all I wanted was oblivion. I was running on fumes after a week from hell closing out a major project. I’d just drifted off when a hand roughly patted my shoulder. “Excuse me, Ma’am, could you please pay attention to the safety video on the screen in front of you?” I’ve flown hundreds of times. This was the first time a flight attendant had ever enforced the video. Given her dedication, I managed to cooperate, stifling a groan of exhaustion. As soon as the video ended, I settled back in, desperate to reclaim my sleep. It didn’t last. A heavy slap landed on my cheek. “Hello? Sleeping on a plane can make you cold. Would you like a blanket?” A wave of irritation washed over me, but I forced a polite tone. “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t need anything. Please, I need to sleep, so try not to disturb me.” She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I’m just doing my job. Some people.” I closed my eyes, counting to ten, trying to gather the threads of my lost sleep. Before I could make it back to that hazy state, a sharp rapping hit the top of my head. The flight attendant—Chelsea, according to her badge—beamed a forced, saccharine smile. “Peanuts, pretzels, soda, coffee, or a hot tea? Can I get you anything, Ma’am?” 1 I’d been up for over twenty-four hours, and all I could think about was the six-hour flight ahead of me. I had collapsed into the window seat the second I boarded. The plane hadn’t even started taxing, but I was gone. A soft voice nudged me from the edge of sleep. “Ma’am, we’ll be starting the safety briefing shortly. Could you please wake up?” I kept my eyes shut. I knew the drill. They just had to say the line; they didn’t actually expect compliance. I thought that would be the end of it, but then a hand aggressively patted my shoulder—several times. “Hey! Wake up. We’re about to review the safety procedures. What if something actually happens? Who will be responsible then?” I blinked open my eyes, disoriented, realizing she was talking directly to me. Chelsea leaned in conspiratorially. “See? I knew you weren’t really asleep! Why the act? Did you enjoy being roused by me personally?” “And are you just enjoying this chance to make a scene?” she added under her breath. I couldn’t fathom the hostility. I racked my memory. When I first boarded, I had politely asked, “Is there any chance for an upgrade? I’d love a First Class seat if possible.” She’d given me a look of pure contempt. It was her colleague, a purser, who’d stepped in. “Apologies, Ma’am. This is an all-Economy holiday charter flight. No upgrades available.” I had nodded, resigned. Holiday tickets were always a nightmare. As I turned to leave, Chelsea had mumbled something. I now realized what it must have been. “Fishing for a freebie. Who does she think she is?” Was she seriously targeting me because I asked about an upgrade? Because she decided I was “faking” being wealthy? My head was pounding. Between the high-pressure project and the lack of sleep, I had no energy left for a confrontation. I decided to save my complaint for when we landed. I took a deep breath, turned my back to her, and focused all my remaining strength on getting to sleep. Just as I was about to sink into a comfortable haze, a sharp tug yanked my arm. My eyes snapped open. Chelsea was standing over me, looking down with an almost predatory smirk. All my exhaustion was immediately replaced by a surge of white-hot anger. “Why did you just grab me?” She batted her eyelashes, her tone deceptively light. “Ma’am, were you having a bad dream? I just wanted to ask if you needed a blanket. You know, it gets chilly on the plane.” Her smile widened, her eyes cold. “Oh, by the way, our blankets are premium. They’re fifty-eight dollars.” I fought to keep my voice even. “No, thank you. I do not need a blanket. I need to sleep. Would you please just leave me alone?” The instant she heard the “no,” a flash of vindictive triumph crossed her face. It was as if a petty suspicion had just been confirmed. “Just another cheapskate,” she whispered, ensuring I heard it. At that moment, a kind voice came from the row behind me. “Hey, Miss. Thank you for helping us find our seats earlier. Here, take this blanket. I heard it gets pretty cold toward the back.” A man in his forties—a distinguished-looking, soft-spoken gentleman—held out a brand-new, still-packaged blanket. I was touched by his kindness. “Oh, thank you, that’s really generous, but please, I’m wearing layers. I’m fine.” Chelsea’s eyes darted between the man and me, a strange, knowing smile playing on her lips. 2 My sleep was irrevocably ruined. Frustrated, I glanced around and saw Chelsea huddled with another flight attendant, whispering and laughing, occasionally pointing a finger in my direction. The other woman covered her mouth, her eyes full of mean-spirited glee. A senseless fury spiked. I grabbed my water bottle, took a long swallow, and forced myself to look down at my phone, trying the “out of sight, out of mind” technique. But soon, the heat from the cabin vents seemed to die down completely. A genuine chill began to creep under my collar. The passenger next to me had already wrapped herself in her expensive cashmere wrap. I shivered, ready to get up and rummage for my coat in the overhead bin. The gentleman from the back row leaned forward again. “It really is cold now, dear. Take it. It’s brand new.” I couldn’t refuse again. “Thank you so much,” I said, taking the blanket. Just as I wrapped it around me, I heard Chelsea’s voice, loud enough to carry, dripping with sarcasm. “Honestly, some women have absolutely no shame. Using their looks to flirt with anyone, even a middle-aged married man. Just pathetic.” My body went rigid. I snapped my head up. “What are you talking about? Are you talking about me? Who are you calling a floozy?” “What’s the situation here?” The cabin door opened, and a tall man in a sharp pilot’s uniform—a Captain—stepped out. Chelsea’s face transformed instantly. The spite, the pettiness—it vanished, replaced by an expression of doe-eyed adoration. “Oh, Captain Reed, you’re here! This passenger is misunderstanding me. I was simply trying to provide good service, but she’s taking it the wrong way.” She pouted, playing the victim. “See, the heating system is acting up, and I was worried she was cold. I offered her a blanket, but she’s been so rude to me.” She cast a wounded glance my way. I looked at the Captain’s face and realized why he seemed familiar. When I was wrestling my overweight carry-on into the overhead bin earlier, I’d nearly lost my balance. He was the one who reached out, steadied me, and hoisted the suitcase up without a word. Seeing Chelsea’s performance—the sudden shift from bully to sweetheart, coupled with her blatant attempt to slander me—I understood everything. She wasn’t mad about the upgrade question. She thought I was flirting with her target. She believed I was a rival, trying to snatch her Captain, and that’s why she’d been harassing me. The sheer absurdity of the idea was so offensive it made me laugh, a short, bitter sound. She was obsessed with her little fantasy, and decided everyone else must be as desperate and manipulative as she was. My sheer fatigue won out over the urge to explain myself. I fixed the Captain with a cold, steady gaze and waited for him to speak. He pulled out his communication device. “Cabin crew, turn up the heat immediately. Find this passenger a heavy-duty airline blanket.” He turned to me, his tone apologetic. “Ms. Shaw, I’m sorry you’ve had such an unpleasant start to your flight. We will address the conduct of our crew to ensure you have a professional experience for the rest of the journey.” Seeing him side with me, Chelsea’s victim act evaporated. She pasted on a professional smile. “Ms. Shaw, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I will ensure I provide excellent service from now on. Please call me if you need anything.” I just waved a hand dismissively, too tired to look at her. All I managed was, “I don’t need anything from you. Just let me sleep.” Max nodded once, said nothing more, and headed back toward the cockpit. Chelsea trailed after him like a lost puppy, but not before shooting me one last look—a look filled with pure, simmering resentment. 3 Three hours passed. Chelsea, thankfully, stayed away. The cabin heat finally kicked in, chasing the chill away. The ambient noise softened as most passengers settled down for the long haul, their faces relaxed in sleep. The week’s exhaustion returned with a vengeance. My eyelids felt weighted down. I pulled the blanket tighter and began to drift into a deep, peaceful sleep. Just as I crossed the threshold, a voice boomed in my ear like a megaphone. “Peanuts, pretzels, soda, coffee, or a hot tea! Does anyone need anything?” My eyes snapped open. It was Chelsea again. She offered a practiced, fake smile. “Excuse me, Ma’am, would you like some water? It’s important to stay hydrated when you’re sleeping for a long time.” She offered a cup of hot water. Waking up for the fourth time, my anger surged beyond control. “How many times do I have to tell you? Stop disturbing my sleep! Are you deaf?” She recoiled as if genuinely terrified, her forced smile dropping instantly. Her eyes welled up. “I didn’t even touch you this time! You woke up on your own!” she wailed. “I’m just a junior flight attendant trying to do my job, trying to be helpful. How can you be so mean to me?” Passengers nearby looked up, drawn by the noise. Chelsea started crying in earnest. She was pretty and delicate-looking, and the sight of her red eyes instantly sparked sympathy. An older woman in the seat diagonal from me sighed and addressed me. “Sweetheart, the flight attendant is just doing her job. Why are you being so short-tempered? We should all try to be more understanding.” Chelsea sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. “Thank goodness you see the truth, Ma’am. If she complains about me, I could actually lose my job.” Her plea worked. The surrounding passengers’ sympathy caught fire. “She’s just a young girl, probably new,” another passenger chimed in. “Give her a break.” “Some young people have no manners,” a man muttered. “They treat service workers like dirt just because they had a bad day…” Surrounded by a chorus of judgment, my sleepiness vanished. I sat up straight and fixed my gaze on the woman who had first defended Chelsea. “Where were all of you when she repeatedly woke me up? When I explicitly asked her to stop? But I raise my voice once, and suddenly you’re all experts on decency? Is that selective outrage?” I addressed the nearby passengers. “I told her three times that I didn’t need a blanket, didn’t want a drink, and just wanted to sleep. And she came back again and again. You think that’s ‘concern’?” My voice was raw. “I worked non-stop for a week, pulled an all-nighter to get this flight, and I desperately need to rest. She is deliberately provoking me. And now I’m the bad guy? If someone kept waking you up, would you be calm?” “Who is going to take responsibility if I’m so exhausted I pass out when I land?” My direct challenge—and the sharp, irrefutable logic—silenced them. The passengers who had been so quick to judge averted their eyes, no one willing to speak up again. With her support system gone, Chelsea’s sobs abruptly stopped. She wiped away the negligible tears and looked deeply embarrassed. “I was only performing my job duties,” she insisted, defensive now. “How can you slander me like this?” I gave a cold laugh. “Your job duties include ignoring a customer’s reasonable request and constantly disrupting their rest? You’re performing your job a little too well.” Stung, she was speechless. After a moment, she dug a form out of her pocket and handed it to me. “Since you have such an issue with my service, please sign this. It’s a statement that you voluntarily waive any further service from me, and that any issues you encounter for the rest of the flight are not my responsibility.” I didn’t take the clipboard. “Oh, now you’re playing games. Does every passenger have to sign this?” Chelsea’s eyes flickered, a clear sign of guilt. “No, but you’re different. You’ve been uncooperative with my work.” I was so angry I felt a manic urge to laugh. “I was cooperative watching the safety video, and I was reasonable declining services I didn’t need. That’s uncooperative? You’ve been targeting me since I asked about an upgrade, and now you want me to sign a unilateral declaration? Get your manager or an airline representative right now. I want to know if this is how your company trains its staff and treats its customers.” The mention of management drained the color from Chelsea’s face. Her body gave a slight tremor. She quickly snatched the form back. “Please, Ma’am, don’t be angry. Don’t sign it. I’m just a regular flight attendant. If you complain to management, I could lose my job.” She started to grovel. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have disturbed you repeatedly. I’m new; I don’t have much experience. Please, be the bigger person and forgive me this time. I truly wasn’t trying to target you. I just wanted to provide good service, and I didn’t realize I was bothering you…” Her droning voice, full of pathetic excuses, was buzzing in my ear like a fly. I cut her off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, and I don’t want to ruin your career. I have one request: stay away from me and let me sleep.” Chelsea clamped her lips shut, her face shifting between pale shame and resentment. The surrounding passengers cautiously eyed me again, their expressions a mix of curiosity and lingering judgment. I ignored them, closed my eyes, and pulled the blanket tight. This time, no one disturbed me. I only woke up when the captain’s voice came over the intercom, announcing the final descent. I stretched and reached up to the overhead bin for my briefcase. As I pulled it down, I noticed the entire bag was soaked. Water was dripping off it. I frantically unzipped the bag. My clothes, documents, and especially the critical project files—the result of a week’s sleepless work—were saturated, plastered together. The signature lines and terms on my contract were blurred, the ink bleeding into an illegible mess. Before I could find a flight attendant, two security officers in uniform appeared. “Ms. Shaw, we have received a report that you are carrying a dangerous, unauthorized liquid that poses a serious safety risk. You need to come with us for questioning immediately.”

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After being bullied, my sister slit her wrists and tried to commit suicide. My parents’ hair turned white overnight. The three little beasts grinned and said: “We are minors, the law can’t sentence us. What can you do to me?” I smiled too: “I can make you wish you were dead but unable to die!” 01 I was in class when my mom called. After answering, there was silence for a long time, only intermittent sobbing. I don’t know why, but my heart was beating fast. Finally, my mom gathered enough strength and cried out: “Julian, something happened to your sister!” I asked for leave immediately, didn’t even pack my clothes, and took a taxi to the station. “Mom, I’m coming back now. Don’t worry, tell me what happened first?” My mom was crying and gasping, repeating one sentence over and over: “Your sister was beaten—” I called my sister, but no one answered. Tried my dad, no answer either. My hands were shaking so much I could hardly hold the phone. I entered my sister’s school and her name on Twitter. Saw a video with tens of thousands of views, I clicked it open— A thin girl lay on the ground, protecting her head. Three girls surrounded her, taking turns stepping on her face. After half a minute, one girl said: “Let’s cut this little bitch’s hair, see if she can still be coquettish?” So she squatted down with a grin, grabbed the girl’s hair on the ground, and cut it off with a “snip snip” sound. The girl covering her face curled into a ball, trying to hide her head in her stomach. The three perpetrators got even more excited: “Still fucking dare to hide, huh?!” They cooperated tacitly. One straddled the girl, pressing her arm with knees, forcing her hands open. One was responsible for taking photos. One slapped her face. “Slap slap slap!” At this moment, I finally saw the face of the disheveled girl being beaten. That was my sister. The girl got tired of hitting and signaled to the person taking photos. So I heard an excited voiceover: “My turn! My turn!” She took out a marker and drew a turtle on my sister’s red and swollen face. My sister couldn’t break free and let out bursts of despairing howls. “Why are you like this?” One of the beasts said, “You messed up her clean face, how can she go out and be a whore?” She pulled my sister up and patted the dust off her body. Seemed like she really intended to let her go. My sister clutched the corner of her clothes, standing there at a loss. The next second, she kicked my sister’s back fiercely from behind. My sister fell to the ground, and blood stains appeared on the ground quickly. Then, they rushed up, grabbed my sister’s school uniform, and tore it hard. “Rip—” The comments skyrocketed at this moment. But soon, the video disappeared. “This video has been taken down.” Immediately, that post was gone too. “What’s wrong with you?” The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror, “Are you feeling unwell?” At this time, the taxi entered a tunnel. The car window reflected my red eyes and the bulging veins on my forehead. 02 Neighbors watching the excitement crowded the doorway. I squeezed in and saw my parents sitting on one side of the sofa, with the police in the middle, and a man in a suit and three middle-aged men sitting further out. Presumably the principal and their parents. The three little beasts were in the corner. Two lowered their heads, and the one in the middle sat on my family’s fruit box, playing with her nails boredly. Seeing me come in, she poked her companion, pointed at me, said something unknown, and they laughed together. “I’ll fucking kill you!” I grabbed the kettle casually and rushed over. But was held down immediately. One of the parents even took away my kettle. “Let go! Or I’ll kill you together!!” The little beast in the middle hid behind her father, looking at me with a smile. The policeman came over and patted my back: “Young man, calm down. We are discussing how to solve your family’s problem now. Don’t make things worse.” I threw off the beast parent’s hand: “Okay, how do you plan to solve it?” As soon as I said this, the atmosphere became subtle instantly. Several people looked at each other, exchanging glances. Definitely holding back no good intentions. The principal pulled me aside and put his arm around my shoulder: “Are you Lily’s?” “Brother.” “Oh, it’s like this. The school takes this matter very seriously. We severely criticized Tiffany Wang and the others, and they also promised not to do it again next time. considering they are all first-time offenders, we also hope you…” “What do you mean?” I broke free from his hand, “You want us to just let it go?” Having his inner thoughts exposed by me, the principal looked a bit embarrassed: “Oh, young man. We have suppressed the heat of this matter. You know, if that kind of thing spreads out, it’s bad for Lily. After all, she is a girl…” “So what?” I laughed in extreme anger, “So should our family kneel down and kowtow to you, thanking you for your great kindness? Did you suppress it for Lily, or for these little beasts?” “Young man, you have to consider the overall situation.” “Can’t consider! I only know my sister was bullied!” At this time, a parent sneered: “Don’t you think about why among so many people in the class, only your sister would be treated like this? Maybe she did something shameful. It takes two hands to clap, you know?!” I smashed a fist over, and colors appeared on that middle-aged man’s face immediately: “Holy crap, you fucking dare to hit me!” “I’ll fucking kill you!” I was dizzy with anger, preparing to beat him up when the police held me. “Young man, calm down. If you injure him, you have to pay medical expenses.” Mom also came to pull me. Looking at Mom’s tear-stained face, my heart softened instantly. “Officer, if we follow legal procedures, how many years will these people be sentenced?” The policeman sighed: “I understand your feelings very well, but strictly according to the law, they will at most be detained for a few days and then pay a few thousand dollars. No way, they are still minors.” A few days? A few thousand dollars. My brain exploded with a hum, turned my head and saw a faint smile on the little beast’s mouth corner. Hearing they would be detained, several parents worried about leaving a criminal record in the future, signaling their children with eyes. Three people quickly ran to me, bowing and apologizing. Tiffany Wang held my hand: “Sorry, we know we were wrong, promise not to do it again next time!” Hard object touch in palm, I looked down. She stuffed a bloody hairpin into my hand. Still the one I gave to Lily. A few strands of hair stuck to the hairpin, must have been pulled off Lily’s head forcefully. “Fuck!” Just as I was about to slap her, her dad quickly protected her behind him. “Brother, I’m sorry!” She cried like pear blossoms bathed in rain, “Beat me, as long as you can vent your anger, you can beat me however you want.” She was crying on her face, but her right hand gave me the middle finger below. “I’ll fucking kill you!” “Calm down!” The police stood in the middle again, turning to them and said, “The family is emotional, let’s talk about this next time, you go first!” 03 The house was quiet. It was already past ten at night, but Lily still refused to come out. We guarded in front of Lily’s bedroom door, no one willing to leave. “Mom and Dad, you go to sleep first. I’ll watch here,” I said. “How can I rest assured with Lily like this?” Dad said. Hearing this, Mom touched his back and leaned on his shoulder. Her tears had dried up long ago, eyes red and swollen. “Maybe those guys will come again tomorrow, you need to rest well.” “Yeah,” Mom said, “Listen to Julian, with him here, Lily will be fine.” Dad sighed heavily and left slowly. In early years, he worked on construction sites and developed a disability when carrying sandbags. His spine hurt whenever it was cloudy and rainy. Now old, medicine was useless, could only endure with patches. Looking at Dad’s hunched back, my nose soured, feeling indescribably uncomfortable inside. After parents turned off the lights, I knocked on the door with a rhythm of two long, two short. This was our secret code. Before, I often took her out for late-night snacks like this, secretly stuffing snacks for her, and taking her out to play crazily after parents fell asleep. But this time, I didn’t see Lily’s cheerful look as I wished. “Lily,” I said softly, “Brother is coming in?” I have the key to her room. Still no movement inside. I felt bad intuitively, found the key, and opened the door. Such a heavy smell of blood! Blood stained a large patch of the bed sheet red. Lily lay on her back, half of her body soaked in bloody water, several shocking wounds on her wrist. “Lily!” I picked her up and ran out crazily. “Mom and Dad, Lily slit her wrists!” 04 Hospital, 1 AM. I sat on the cold bench, staring at the closed door of the operating room. Every time a nurse went in or out, my heart trembled. I am twelve years older than Lily. Mom gave birth to her when I was in sixth grade. When pregnant, uncle teased me saying, you are going to have a sister, mom and dad won’t want you anymore. So I disliked her at first. Until one day at noon after school, I saw mom discharged from the hospital, holding a pink and tender little thing. She was sleeping biting her finger, emitting a nice milky smell all over. The way mom looked at her, gentle like water overflowing. I felt sour in my heart. At this time, Lily woke up, two big bright eyes staring at me, suddenly giggled. Mom said pleasantly: “Crying and making a fuss in the hospital, smiles as soon as she sees brother. Lily likes brother too much.” Only then did I feel she didn’t seem that annoying. When Lily grew to three or four years old, she liked to follow behind me. Every day when I came home from school, as soon as I opened the door, I saw her pouncing over with open arms. When I did homework, Lily stood quietly beside me watching, little head resting on the table. Mom asked: “Julian, want to eat fruit?” I shook my head. So Lily said: “Brother says no.” “Want to drink milk then?” I nodded. So Lily ran over happily: “Brother says yes.” Mom smiled: “Lily is really brother’s tail.” She carefully put the milk on the table and asked: “Brother, what is a tail?” “Just likes to follow behind others.” She said proudly: “Then I am brother’s tail!” Growing a bit older, because of heavy family financial burden, I wanted to drop out of school to work and earn tuition for Lily. When skipping class, I was caught back by dad and punished kneeling at home to be beaten. Lily stood in front of me and said: “Not allowed to beat brother.” Dad threw away the belt and suddenly covered his face crying. That was the first time I saw father cry. He said he was useless, didn’t give the two children good conditions. Later, Lily told me: “Brother, you have to study hard, so you can find a good job and marry a good wife in the future…” Forgot half way reciting, turned to ask, “Mom, what’s next?” So I agreed with Lily, never skip class again, will study hard and get into a good university. Lily extended her little finger: “Pinky promise, no change for a hundred years.” This is our contract. Since childhood, things pinky promised, can’t change even if the sky falls. Then, I went to college, Lily in middle school. Went home a few times before, found Lily talked less. I thought she just reached adolescence and was unwilling to tell me everything. I should have discovered earlier. How did I fail to discover earlier?

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Three years into my relationship with the billionaire scion of the capital, everything between us was still clearly priced. Dinner, $20,000. A date, $100,000. Spending the night, $300,000. One day, I discovered I was pregnant. After a few seconds of mental processing, I looked at the aloof and dignified man across from me and asked bluntly: “Bro, do you have a hundred million?” 1 Ethan Black was stunned by my question. He was wearing loose hospital pajamas, yet his handsome face showed no pallor, his sharp eyes staring at me: “What’s wrong?” “Why ask this suddenly?” He pulled the corners of his lips into a smile, the mischief in his eyes not looking like someone sick at all: “Want to earn enough to make a hundred million?” “Cough cough.” I almost choked to death, “Of course not that meaning, I mean…” The sentence “Can you give me a hundred million if I bear you a child” was already on the tip of my tongue, but suddenly seeing his face darken: “If not that meaning then don’t say it,” “We have nothing good to talk about.” His cold and heartless appearance made my heart tremble. Tsk. How could I forget Ethan is a DINK (Double Income, No Kids) believer. We agreed long ago not to talk about feelings or love, only physical needs. If he knew about the child… He would definitely think I deliberately planned to use the child to ask for money. Let alone a hundred million, he might even ask for the previous money back. Better forget it. I silently crumpled the report from the obstetrics department and chose to hide it carefully behind my back. “Oh, then nothing.” 2 Ethan didn’t ask anything more. He had no feelings for me anyway. Calling me out was nothing more than being his meal buddy. And bed buddy. But this month wasn’t very coincidental. His two million limit was used up in the middle of this month. So… The man confined me tightly on the hospital bed, kissing down from my earlobe. Seeing him about to unbutton my shirt, I shivered. And moved three feet away from him directly. “This month’s limit is used up!” “Can’t do that anymore!” Ethan’s handsome face was annoyed, staring straight at me, speaking with the confidence of wealth: “I’ll add money!” “No!” Add what money?! What if the baby is harmed! Usually loving money as my life, I rarely refused. Ethan stared at me suspiciously. My heart trembled, and I casually spouted nonsense: “I… I’m not feeling well this month.” “Plus work is busy, I can only accompany you when you are sick, other than that, no way!” After speaking, I wanted to leave hurriedly. Afraid Ethan would discover the secret in my phone. He suddenly grabbed me, voice as cold as always: “So I can only see you when sick this month?” Thinking of Ethan working out all year round. His health was unusually good. I nodded fiercely. “Yes! Only when sick can you see me!” 3 Ethan’s deep eyes darkened. Originally wanted to say something. Just then the doctor holding the medical record came in: “Mr. Black, hello, you just caught a cold from a cold shower, no big problem, can be discharged.” Cold shower? Why take a cold shower in winter? Sick, right? I looked at Ethan like looking at a fool. Silently praying the child’s looks take after his father. IQ must not be like him! “Alright, now you can be discharged.” “Let’s not meet this month!” “See you next month, President Black!” See what next month! I ran home like fleeing from famine. Hurriedly packed a few pieces of luggage. Preparing to find a place Ethan couldn’t find to nourish the fetus. Knowing the news, my best friend Chloe was a bit surprised: “You… you decided to keep this child just like that?” “Yeah!” While stuffing clothes into the suitcase, I said without any hesitation: “You also know I have no relatives since childhood, I’m an orphan.” “Originally planned to save enough money to go abroad for IVF to give myself a relative.” “Now it’s great, a relative just came naturally!” Moreover, with Ethan’s genes. The child must be very good-looking. I made up my mind and immediately opened my phone to book a flight to leave. Chloe hesitated: “This month isn’t over yet, what if Ethan gets sick again and looks for you…” “How is that possible?” I waved my hand carelessly: “He works out every day like a calf, so strong, how could he get sick twice a month…” Before I finished speaking, my phone rang. It was a call from Ethan’s assistant: “Hello Miss Lin, President Black fell ill and is hospitalized again, please come to the hospital to accompany him.” As if afraid I wouldn’t go. The assistant added: “This is within this month’s limit, please arrive quickly.” 4 Same hospital, same ward. I ran exactly seven times in a week. Yes. Once a day. Fever today, cold tomorrow, rash on face the day after, twisted ankle the day after that… After such a toss, I looked at the man covered in injuries on the hospital bed. First time doubting the physical quality of this business tycoon. “Bro, do you have cerebellum problems? Or uncoordinated limbs?” Otherwise, how could he twist his ankle three times leaving the hospital entrance. And twisted his arm too? Ethan raised his eyes coldly to look at me. “You question my ability?” “No.” I told the truth. I question his IQ. Will brain damage be hereditary? I stared at him suspiciously. Looking him up and down, unconsciously stopped at a certain part— The man suddenly reached out and pulled me fiercely. Male aura attacked me overwhelmingly, before I could react, Ethan pinched my chin and kissed fiercely. “Mmph… Mmph…” His movements were too big. I had severe morning sickness recently. Suddenly felt strong discomfort in my lower abdomen. I struggled trying to push him away. The man’s movements became more forceful, fixing me firmly in front of him. While grinding my lips hard, he gritted his teeth and said: “Can’t even touch you…” “Ugh!” Splash. I vomited. Unknown liquid sprayed all over Ethan’s clean hospital gown, he was almost furious: “Summer Lin! You hate me this much!” “Actually vomited kissing me!”

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My daughter, Paige, had pulled another all-nighter for her fandom. I found her slumped asleep over her laptop keyboard. I was reaching for a blanket to drape over her when I accidentally saw the forum post she had open—a fresh rant about me: “My dad, this ancient penny-pincher, will drop cash on organic brisket, expensive seafood, and gourmet coffee for the kitchen, but won’t spot me for my concert tickets or merch drops.” “I’m going to lose it. Seriously, if he can’t support me properly now, I swear I won’t support him when he’s old!” One anonymous user replied, trying to be the voice of reason: “You’re just in your rebellious phase. You don’t understand financial pressure. Your dad buys necessities. Stanning an idol doesn’t fill your stomach.” Paige shot back a reply: “Spiritual nourishment is nourishment!” “My bias is the best human being on the planet. Why shouldn’t I spend money on him?!” “He’s not even close to being as cool as my mom’s boyfriend. He actually comes with me for airport pickups and buys me limited-edition albums!” “He’s my biological father, but he’s never understood where my soul finds its escape. Why did my mother ever settle for a stiff like him?” I felt a cold dread creep into my bones. All these years, I’d hustled like a corporate slave, working myself into the ground, often fifteen hours a day, just so this family could have a better life—the best life. And now? I was just the butt of an online joke. I was a “tool man.” Why the hell was I still grinding? When did I ever get to enjoy my own life? 1 I lay down on my bed, still scrolling through her forum posts on my phone. She had updated the thread: “Honestly, I know it sounds awful, but I really wish I’d lost my dad early. He’s been such a total headcase lately.” Someone commented: “What’s he bugging you about now?” She replied: “Everything. Every. Single. Day. He just hired this elite, one-on-one tutor to hover over me. I’m not his daughter, I’m his prisoner!” “Tomorrow is my birthday. I’m going to ask him for $500 for my idol’s new sponsored merchandise. If he says no, he stops being my father and becomes a mere ATM machine to me.” My heart plummeted. All the long-term planning and sacrificial love I had poured into her future—she saw it as a cage. It was the sharpened edge of the knife she now held pointed at my back. Suddenly, Paige walked into the room. Her expression was perfectly normal. “Dad, I’m starving. What’s for lunch?” I turned my phone screen off and spoke, my voice a cold, unfamiliar sound. “I’m not making lunch.” She always complained that I spent money on food for the house but none on her idols. The truth was, every cent of that food budget was for her. If the prodigal child couldn’t be tamed, I wouldn’t bother trying. My remaining life belonged to me. Paige paused, surprised. Even when I was sick, I had always made her three meals a day. She’d never missed one. The surprise lasted only a second. The next moment, a look of unmistakable glee flashed in her eyes, as if a heavy coat had been shed, and she was finally free. “Oh. Okay. I’ll just order takeout then. You rest.” Normally, I banned takeout, worried about her nutrition and health. Now, I saw that control had only given her another reason to trash me online. If she didn’t want the good life I was offering, then she could go ahead and run wild. Paige didn’t leave. She shifted the topic. “Dad, tomorrow’s my birthday. You don’t need to buy me a gift. Just give me $500 for my idol’s new endorsement—the limited-edition drop.” I sat up on the edge of the bed and stared at her, my face flat and cold. “No. My money is spoken for. Go ask your mother’s friend.” She was stunned, then immediately angry, but she tried to hold the rage in. “Not even a birthday gift?” “That’s right. From now on, there are no more gifts.” She couldn’t control herself anymore. Her face flushed scarlet, her neck stiffened, and her eyes spit fire. “So, what? Unless it’s a perfect GPA, I’m just a mistake to you? You think everything I care about is wrong!” I looked at this daughter who had somehow become a stranger to me and felt a hollow ache. It hadn’t always been like this. Before, she was a kind, sweet child. Our bond felt unbreakable. She’d told me so many times I was the best father in the world. Diana, my wife, walked in, her face stormy. “Adam Keller, what in God’s name is wrong with you?” She looked genuinely confused. Every year, I’d made a spectacular feast and bought Paige an expensive, carefully chosen gift. This was the first time I had ever coldly refused her. Diana patted Paige’s shoulder, soothing her. “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s your birthday tomorrow. Mommy won’t let you down.” 2 The next morning, I went shopping. I bought a PlayStation 5, a Tag Heuer watch, and a pair of Balenciaga sneakers—things I’d always put off buying for myself. I signed up for a year-long membership at a high-end gym and went out for a long, quiet meal at an Italian bistro. I did not spend hours in the kitchen preparing the elaborate birthday meal I used to make for Paige. Afterward, I checked Paige’s forum. She had updated again. “My dad is completely unhinged now. Seriously, the man is having a psychotic break. Suddenly won’t cook, stopped managing the house, and even skipped my birthday.” “But it’s fine. The three of us—Mom, me, and Blake—celebrated at Blake’s place. Watching my bias’s new drama on his huge screen was heaven.” A user offered an analysis: “Maybe your dad just got tired of seeing you chase an idol so hard and he’s disappointed?” The thread split. One side supported Paige, mostly saying: “If you don’t have passions, what’s the point of living? Who cares about a K-pop idol? It’s not like you’re doing drugs. Having a joyless parent is the worst.” A smaller group said: “Everything in moderation. Maybe if you focused until college, your dad wouldn’t have such a problem.” Paige replied to that: “That’s where Blake shines. It’s no wonder Mom is crazy about him; he’s so understanding. My dad doesn’t compare to a single hair on Blake’s head.” “Anyway, the parent-teacher meeting is next week. There’s no way I’m letting Dad go.” Someone followed up: “You’re not actually going to take Blake, are you?” She responded instantly: “Duh, of course, I am! Blake is the best man I know. Mom is going to divorce my psycho dad soon anyway, and I’m definitely picking Mom and Blake.” My heart turned to a bitter shard of ice. The kind of cold that chills you to the bone. I didn’t get home until late that night. Paige and Diana were already back. They had clearly had a fantastic birthday celebration, but they were still wearing expressions of injured pride. Diana immediately started in. “Adam, it was our daughter’s birthday. Why did you make such a scene?” I countered: “I’ve celebrated both of your birthdays every single year. Have either of you ever done anything for mine?” She was caught off-guard, but she quickly turned hostile. “You’re changing the subject. You’re being ridiculous and petty.” Paige played the good daughter, stepping in. “Stop fighting. I don’t even care about presents.” Her mood was obviously good. I knew why. I’d seen the posts. Blake had given her $1,000 for her idol’s merchandise. As I expected, she didn’t mention the upcoming parent-teacher conference. As luck would have it, a friend of mine needed someone to cover a meeting for his son in the same class. I volunteered instantly. I wanted to see for myself who this “Little Dad” was. When I entered the classroom, I saw him. He was Blake Ellis, the sales associate at Diana’s boutique consulting firm. The firm only had three people: a receptionist, him, and her. He was young, maybe 25, and yes, conventionally handsome. I sat right behind him. Neither he nor Paige noticed me. The guidance counselor’s main task was to discuss college applications and career aspirations. When she got to Paige, Blake smiled warmly and said: “Paige won’t be taking the SATs. Her grades aren’t really strong enough anyway. Her mother and I just want her to be happy and healthy. No pressure.” The counselor, Ms. Reyes, was confused. I had met with her several times, begging her to pay extra attention to Paige’s declining performance. She instinctively asked: “You are Paige’s…?” Paige jumped up, beaming with pride. “He’s my dad.” Ms. Reyes glanced at me, sitting directly behind them, and then introduced me, completely bewildered. “Paige, your father is sitting right there. What is going on?” The whole room turned to stare at me and Blake, a chorus of confused murmurs breaking out. Paige spun around as if struck by lightning, clearly shocked to see me. I smiled, a thin, cruel expression I’d never worn before. “Paige, who exactly is your father?” The crowd exploded in whispers. “What is happening? The nerve of that child!” “She’s completely out of control. Someone needs to discipline her.” “First, she hires a fake dad for a school meeting, what will she do next?” Paige’s face was a mess of shame and anger. She hesitated, then, as if making a final, desperate choice, she spoke. “I’m not lying. Blake Ellis is my dad.” Ms. Reyes pressed her. “But Mr. Keller has always attended your meetings.” “He’s my uncle,” Paige insisted, her chin high. “My real dad died a long time ago. My mother only just remarried. He was afraid I’d be bullied without a father, so he was pretending to be him.” She spoke with righteous indignation, not a hint of shame. Though I had already decided to cut this daughter loose, seeing the child I had nurtured with all my love plunge a knife into my back still twisted my stomach. It was a cold, sharp, and excruciating pain. Ms. Reyes looked at me. “Mr. Keller, is that true?” I didn’t hesitate. I was done playing a role for them. I would give them what they wanted. “Yes, Ms. Reyes. Blake Ellis is Paige’s biological father.” “Regarding Paige’s education, you should take all instructions from Mr. Ellis.” 3 Paige dropped out of all her college prep courses. When we got home, she tried to cover her guilt. “Dad, don’t misunderstand. I lied because I was trying to save face.” “You don’t want the whole school to know I was lying and had a stand-in, do you? I wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye again.” I let out a flat, indifferent laugh. “I know you were trying to save face.” She saw my smile, relaxed instantly, and, breathing a sigh of relief, probed me. “Dad, I stopped the SAT prep. You’re not mad, are you?” I gave her the same blank smile. “No. Not at all.” She wasn’t my daughter anymore. Getting angry would just be punishing myself. From now on, I wouldn’t have to pay for an elite education, fund college tuition, save for a down payment on a car or a house, or set aside a nest egg for her wedding. The truly relieved person was me. I was finally, profoundly unburdened. That evening, Diana called me. “Honey, can you wire me some cash? I’m networking out of town, and my expense account is running low.” Over the years, she had always demanded money as her birthright. I made 5,000 a month at my corporate job, but she felt her “genius” was wasted on that. She’d been trying to launch her own consulting startup for years, always traveling. She took a reliable 2,000 from me every month. I gave it without complaint, supporting her dream. But the knowledge that she had a lover out there made my stomach turn. “No money,” I said, my voice clinical. “I bought myself a macbook with this month’s pay.” Diana and I had started with nothing. Over the years, I’d hustled and worked my way up from a low salary to a stable, comfortable one. But I never bought anything I truly wanted, always putting the family first. Diana exploded when she heard I spent the money on a graphics card, furious that I hadn’t consulted her. I couldn’t stand her emotional torrent, so I hung up. She immediately sent me dozens of 60-second voice notes and a scathing, thousand-word text message. This was the first time in our marriage she had ever sent me so many messages. Before, I was the one sending them, and she would reply with a terse “K,” “Got it,” or often, nothing at all. Middle-aged marriages can retreat from passion into a polite numbness. I had gone from being hysterical about her indifference to becoming numb myself. I didn’t listen to the voice notes. I didn’t read the essay. I would now treat her the way she had treated me. Two days later, the cemetery director called me. “Mr. Keller, we had an unexpected situation. Your parents’ remains were removed, and the plot has been sold to a client who is very eager to buy it.” “I’ve been trying to reach your wife, but the line is constantly busy. Could you come in to sign the paperwork and finalize the sale?” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I gripped the phone, shaking with fury. “What did you say? The remains were sold? Who sold them?” The director realized I had no idea, and his voice shrank to a terrified whisper. 4 “Your wife, Mrs. Diana Keller. She came in yesterday with two other clients.” “She… sold your parents’ cremains as a kind of morbid ‘posthumous arrangement.’ Your mother’s to a recently deceased elderly gentleman, and your father’s to a single, wealthy woman who passed away recently.” “Your wife instructed us to sell the plot now that the urns were gone, and we have a buyer ready.” My blood pressure spiked. I warned him: “Do not sell that plot. Do you understand? If you do, I will sue the cemetery into the ground.” My parents had loved each other their entire lives. Now, that lowlife Diana had sold their remains. I was about to call the police when Diana and Paige walked in. The first thing Diana did was grab a phone charger. “That was annoying. My phone died.” Neither of them noticed the volcanic fury on my face. One fiddled with her phone; the other threw her backpack into her room and called out to me like I was a servant. “Dad, I want Shrimp Scampi tonight.” Diana didn’t look up. “I have a business dinner. I’m eating out.” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I looked straight at Diana. “Where did you sell my parents’ remains?” She finally looked up, her expression briefly flinching with guilt, before she forced a soothing tone. “Oh, that. I was going to tell you later.” “Your parents lived a hard life, honey. I just wanted them to have an easier time in the next life, you know? I found them wealthy ‘partners’ for their eternal rest. It’s my way of showing them respect as a daughter-in-law.” Her preposterous lie snapped my control. I hit her. The slap echoed through the silent house. Paige heard the noise and burst out of her room, screaming at me. “Dad, what is your problem?! Mom is trying to run a company! Why didn’t you support her? She wouldn’t have had to sell the ashes otherwise!” “You never look at your own faults. You only ever blame others!” Shaking from the inside out, I backhanded my daughter. It was the first time I had ever struck her. She couldn’t process the shock. Her face turned crimson, and she ran screaming out the front door. Diana immediately chased after her. I stood alone in the center of the living room, trying to extinguish the inferno in my chest. Then Diana’s phone vibrated. I snatched it up and checked the screen. It was a text from Blake Ellis. “Wifey I love you so much! And our daughter! I can’t believe you bought me that $5,0000 Rolex for my anniversary. I couldn’t bring myself to buy it, so I put the cash towards Paige’s fan club event instead. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy. I love you both.” “Tell our girl I’ll stay up all night with her watching her idol’s new reality show. When we’re done, I’ll give you your real reward (kiss emoji).” She had sold my parents’ ashes to buy her lover an expensive watch. My entire body felt hollow, burned out. It took me a long time to regain my equilibrium. The first thing I did was call my lawyer. I initiated a criminal complaint and filed for divorce. The second thing I did was call a realtor. I was listing the house immediately. If they wanted a bad life for me, I would make sure no one walked away unscathed. It didn’t take long for the police to confirm the buyers of the remains had already left the country, and the ashes were not recoverable. The next day, Diana rushed back, clutching two generic urns, trying to smooth things over. “Honey, I have a surprise for you! Ta-da! I got the ashes back! See? All better. Don’t be mad anymore.” I smiled, a meaningless expression. “Honey, I have a surprise for you, too. Close your eyes.” Diana was relieved, thinking she had successfully manipulated me back into place. She happily closed her eyes. She trusted me completely; I had always asked her to close her eyes when I gave her a gift. I counted silently: Three, two, one. A massive, authoritative sound of approaching footsteps echoed outside the door. This time, I was ensuring a final resolution.

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I was obsessed with this sweet high school romance novel. The male lead was everything—my type, down to the last detail. So, there I was, curled up in bed, squealing “husband” at my phone screen, and then…poof. I was in the book. Not as the main character, of course. I was the side character he wouldn’t spare a single glance for. Heartbreak. Despair. Resignation. Fine. If I couldn’t win the heart of the male lead, I would win the heart of academia. And so, my new life began. I studied with a feverish intensity, my nose buried in a book while I ate, while I walked. Even on the toilet. By some strange twist of fate, I tested into the same advanced class as him. Just when I thought I could fly under the radar, the female lead cornered me. She accused me of trying to steal her man. What? 1 The day I transmigrated into this world, I fell for Liam Kendrick. It wasn’t love at first sight; it was a long-nurtured crush. Back when I was just a reader, I’d clutch my blankets and whisper his name like a prayer. The cool, brilliant, untouchable academic star—he was my ultimate weakness. Seeing him in the flesh? It was almost too much to handle. But reality was a cold shower. Here, in this world, he wasn’t my fictional crush anymore. He was a complete stranger, and I was just a ghost in the halls. All I could do was watch from the sidelines as his epic love story with the female lead, Mia, unfolded. A hollow ache settled in my chest, a constant, dull pressure. Back then, he and Mia weren’t together yet. A legion of girls had crushes on Liam, and a brave few even confessed. Every single one was met with his signature icy rejection. I knew my own quiet admiration was destined for the same fate, so I buried it deep. I was a nobody. A girl with a fractured family, not pretty enough, not confident enough. I didn’t even get the standard transmigrator’s starter pack—no magical system, no cheat codes to grant my every wish. All I had was a burning frustration, which I channeled into my studies. It was partly because it was what a girl my age was supposed to do, and partly because of a tiny, selfish hope. I wanted to get closer to Liam. Just a little. I wasn’t asking for a miracle. Just being able to see him every day would be enough. From that day on, I was the first one to arrive at school and the last to leave, a book always in my hand, even during lunch. After one placement exam, my rank shot up by over two hundred spots, landing me in the honors class—Liam and Mia’s class. On my first day in the new classroom, Mia rushed over. “Ava? Who are you looking for?” In the original story, my character was a certified slacker. She and Mia were frenemies; she’d gossip about people with Mia by day and then lie in bed at night, seething with jealousy over Mia’s effortless radiance. Studying was the last thing on her mind. So, Mia naturally assumed I was lost. “I tested into this class,” I explained quietly. “What?” Her eyes widened. She spun around and ran to the front of the class to check the roster on the teacher’s desk. When she came back, she gave me a slow, deliberate once-over. “Wow. Big improvement.” I managed a shy smile and slipped into my new seat, my head bowed. Liam sat on the other side of the room. Pretending to gaze out the window, I snuck a peek at him from the corner of my eye. Mia was already chattering at him, probably telling him about my surprising arrival. He looked utterly uninterested, but he did flick a brief, indifferent glance in my direction. I held my breath, my gaze snapping back to the notebook on my desk so fast it was almost comical. That was close. Too close. We almost made eye contact. 2 The atmosphere in the honors class was a different world. The intensity was palpable. Here, I wasn’t the weird one for studying during breaks. Everyone did. We’d cluster in small groups, debating complex problems, our voices a low, focused hum. I thrived. My grades stabilized, keeping me near the top of our year. Eventually, I got into the same magnet high school as Liam and Mia. Based on our entrance exam scores, I just barely scraped into the same homeroom as Liam. He was ranked first; I was third from the bottom. Mia, however, was placed in a different class. The original plot needed this separation. Liam was the genius, while Mia was the effortlessly smart and charming girl who could ace tests without ever seeming to try. The author split them up so Mia could meet the second male lead in her new class, sparking a whole new arc of sweet and sour drama. None of that mattered to me. I just kept my head down and studied. For the first two years of high school, Liam and I were just classmates. We never spoke. The only times we were ever in the same frame were when Mia would occasionally stop by to chat with me. Even when we’d pass each other in the halls after school, we were strangers. No nods, no greetings. He genuinely didn’t notice me. I, on the other hand, was a master of deception. My heart would thunder in my chest whenever he was near, but my face remained a perfect, placid mask. Not a single crack. I was getting really good at this. My obsession with studying meant my already-tenuous friendship with Mia faded into almost nothing. By the time we were nearing graduation, she had all but forgotten I existed. Then, senior year started, and she suddenly became friendly again. She insisted I was studying too hard, that I needed to relax. One day, she even roped Liam into her plans, inviting me to hang out with them. Did I want to go? Absolutely not. That time could be better spent tackling a few practice exams. But she was relentless, and I finally caved. I figured I could just bring my review book and study while they had fun. When I arrived at the meeting spot, my mind went blank. An amusement park. According to the novel, this was where they would have their first kiss. This was the moment they’d finally break through that last barrier and officially become a couple. My heart was in turmoil. I went through the motions of the day in a daze, barely registering the rides or the food. As dusk fell, the park lit up in a cascade of dreamlike colors. Mia grabbed Liam’s hand and pulled him toward the fireworks show. I trailed behind them, a forgotten shadow dozens of feet away, jostled by the swelling crowd. There, under a sky exploding with shimmering light, they confessed their feelings. Mia stood on her toes and gave Liam a shy, tender kiss. It was a picture-perfect moment, and I couldn’t bear to watch. I dropped my head, my vision blurring as hot tears fell, one after another, splattering onto the pages of my review book. I fled, a coward escaping a scene not meant for my eyes. I sent Mia a text, lying that I had to get home before my curfew. Of course, she didn’t reply. They had already forgotten I was ever there. As they held hands, their fingers intertwined with a promise of forever, their forgotten third wheel was running home, wiping away tears. I collapsed in my empty apartment and let out a choked, desperate sob. I’m sorry. This time, I just couldn’t pretend anymore. But even as the sobs wracked my body, I forced myself to grab a workbook and start writing, the pen shaking in my hand. A one-sided crush is a special kind of torture, especially for someone like me, who had nothing else. My only superpower, I guess, was having lived a life before this one. I knew the grinding importance of studying. And I knew not to waste myself on a love that was never meant to be. 3 Liam and Mia were officially together. Their ten-year romance, a marathon of love and devotion, was just beginning. They would fight, they would break up, but Liam would never stop loving Mia, and she would always have a place for him in her heart. A beautiful sentiment. For me, it was a death sentence. I wasn’t the only one suffering. The second male lead, Caleb, was about to have his world turned upside down. After they got together, his unrequited love for Mia would drive him to stir up all sorts of trouble. In the book, I was supposed to be one of the people fanning the flames, but frankly, I was more worried about my midterm grades. A wave of relief washed over me when my teacher told me, a proud smile on her face, that I’d placed second in the year. It soothed the ache in my heart, just a little. From third-to-last at the start of the year to second place by midterms. My hard work was finally paying off. In our class, seats were assigned based on rank. Liam was the immovable king, always in the first-place seat. And now, I was assigned to the desk right next to him. My desk mate. His desk mate. This had to be the start of something, right? The kind of trope that sets up a whole story. In reality? Nothing happened. We sat inches apart, but days went by without a single word exchanged. His silence was born of his naturally aloof personality; mine was born of a guilty conscience. I didn’t dare speak. The first and only thing he said to me in a week was a quiet observation. “Ava, your water bottle is leaking.” As I wiped up the puddle, I couldn’t help but correct him on a different matter. “It’s Ava Song…” Haha. He didn’t even remember my last name. We continued on like that, two strangers sharing a desk, until one day Mia stormed into our classroom and started a fight with Liam right in front of me. She demanded to know why he hadn’t told her we were desk mates. Liam just frowned, genuinely confused. “Is that important?” Since the school year began, he’d already had several desk mates thanks to the constant reshuffling after each exam. But for some reason, Mia seemed particularly bothered by me. Her eyes darted between me and him. In the end, she didn’t say another word. She just turned and ran out, tears streaming down her face. I guess I could see her point. I was someone she knew, at least peripherally. If my boyfriend was suddenly sitting next to a girl I was acquainted with and didn’t mention it, I’d probably feel a little slighted, too. After lunch, I decided to find Mia and try to clear the air. “Mia…” I called her name, but she acted like she hadn’t heard me, laughing and joking with her friends. “Oh my god, so I watched that movie you told me about yesterday, and I was literally dying, hahaha…” I stood there awkwardly for a beat before deciding to retreat. This was clearly not the time. We barely talked anymore anyway; bringing up something as trivial as our seating arrangement would probably just make things weirder. And Liam and I were practically strangers. He’d sort it out with her. It wasn’t my problem. Overthinking it was a waste of brainpower, so I let it go. A few days later, however, someone was waiting for me after school. “Ava Song, right?” It was Caleb Vance, the second male lead. I had my earbuds in, listening to a language lesson, and didn’t even hear him call my name. I walked right past him. He let out an indignant squawk, jumped in front of me, and yanked the earbuds out of my ears. “…” I scowled. “Can I help you?” My expression must have been less than friendly, because he flinched before puffing his chest out, trying to look tough. “Listen up!” he snarled. “I don’t like that Kendrick kid, but I’m not gonna let you hurt Mia and mess up their relationship.” That was… a weird way to phrase things. It took me a second to process. “How exactly am I messing up their relationship?” “Don’t play dumb,” Caleb scoffed, crossing his arms. “You’re the one trying to seduce Liam, aren’t you? Hah. All this trouble, and for what? I thought you’d be some supermodel or something, but you’re not even half as pretty as Mia.” I was trying to seduce Liam? That was news to me. “Do you have any proof?” I asked, my voice flat. “Of course I do!” he declared. “The proof is that you’re sitting next to him!” “…You do know seats in our class are assigned by grades, right?” I paused, letting the implication hang in the air. “Oh, wait. Are you suggesting I should have intentionally failed my exam just to avoid sitting next to him?” “That would be for the best.” Caleb didn’t catch the sarcasm, a smug grin spreading across his face. Normally, I wouldn’t waste my breath on someone like him. But his rudeness, combined with the baseless accusations, had officially crossed a line. “Too bad,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “Unlike you, who had mommy and daddy pull some strings to get in here, I don’t play games with my education.” Caleb was a trust-fund kid. His parents, new money, wanted him to have the prestige of a public magnet school rather than some elite private academy. But the “money can buy anything” mindset was already hardwired into his brain. He could afford to treat life like a game. I couldn’t. Sitting next to Liam was a happy accident. But even if it wasn’t him, I had earned that seat. In fact, I was coming for his seat. Caleb’s face turned purple with rage. He threatened to make me pay. It was exactly like his character in the book—impulsive and hot-headed, but not truly malicious. After all, he was here, warning me not to hurt the girl he loved, even as he was heartbroken that she was with someone else. I didn’t take his threats seriously. Until the next monthly exam. When I was caught for cheating. 4 In the middle of the exam, I was pulled out of my seat. The proctor announced that a student had reported me for bringing a cheat sheet into the exam. Then, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, he fished a tiny, translucent slip of paper from my pocket. It was covered in minuscule, printed text—a summary of all the key concepts for the test. “Ava, Ava, Ava! I always thought you were such an honest and hardworking student. How could you do something like this!?” “This isn’t just irresponsible to yourself! You’re bringing shame upon your family and our entire class!” “Your grades at the beginning of the year were mediocre. Did you use tricks like this to improve so dramatically?” I stood in the principal’s office, a storm of accusations raining down on me from the disappointed teachers. They questioned my integrity, my character, my past achievements. When I insisted the cheat sheet wasn’t mine, it only made things worse. Denying it was an admission of guilt. I wracked my brain. Before the exam, I’d left my blazer on my chair when I went to the bathroom. That must have been when someone slipped it into my pocket and then reported me. It had to be Caleb, or someone he’d put up to it. The plan was crude, but devastatingly effective. Who would even think to do something so childish in high school? I had no way to prove my innocence. My only defense was to suggest they question the person who reported me. But they cited student privacy, refusing to reveal the name. The verdict was final. I was guilty. A school-wide announcement was made. The Dean of Students was a firm believer in making an example of people. There would be no anonymity. [HONORS CLASS STUDENT AVA SONG (ID# XXXX) CAUGHT CHEATING ON MONTHLY EXAM] The bright red text scrolled across the digital announcement board in the main lobby. Every student who walked into the building saw it. Naturally, I became a pariah. No one wanted me in their group for projects. No one would partner with me in gym class. During after-school cleanup, I was assigned all the outdoor tasks by myself. “Stay away, cheater,” they’d sneer, making exaggerated faces of disgust. It was fine. I wasn’t a real teenager. Their accusations could frame me, but they couldn’t break me. I weathered the storm. When the exam results were posted, my score was nullified. I was moved to a desk in the corner of the classroom, a place of exile. A new girl sat next to Liam. She was brilliant, popular, and had a very public crush on him. She’d bring him water after basketball practice and “accidentally” fall asleep on his shoulder during study hall. Mia, however, seemed completely unbothered, sometimes even linking her arm with Liam’s just to watch the other girl’s eyes well up with tears. Caleb didn’t bother her at all. He would just lean against the back door of our classroom, a triumphant, gloating look on his face as he watched me. He’d mouth the word. Serves. You. Right. … Reading the book, I never realized Caleb was this immature. My public shaming was his victory. But did it really affect me? Not really. I kept studying, kept eating, kept moving forward. During gym, when no one would partner with me, I’d sneak back to the empty classroom to work on practice exams. I was just finishing the last problem on a difficult calculus worksheet when I sensed someone beside me. It was Liam. He had been standing there, watching me, for who knows how long. Not watching me, exactly, but watching my paper. He was holding a basketball under one arm; he must have come back to grab it. He was so close. Close enough for me to catch the clean, fresh scent of his soap. For some reason, neither of us spoke. The classroom was silent, so quiet I could hear the frantic drumming of my own heart. A strange, poignant sadness washed over me. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to move. I wanted time to freeze in this one, perfect moment. But I couldn’t let myself be greedy. Another few seconds, and the fragile atmosphere might shatter into something complicated and awkward. Finally, I broke the silence. “What’s up?” “Hmm…” He paused, his eyes still on my paper. “You made a mistake on this step.” Which one? Can you show me? That’s what I should have said. The desk next to me was empty, a seat no one wanted. If I had just asked, he might have sat down, his voice a low murmur as he explained the complex problem. Instead, the pragmatic, self-protective part of me took over. I calmly picked up my phone and opened a study app. “Oh. I’ll just look it up online.” “Okay.” Liam turned and walked away. As I efficiently uploaded a picture of the problem, a silent tear traced a path down my cheek. Stupid, stubborn pride. I was hopeless.

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On the 30th day of the online hate campaign against me, my husband unlocked the door to the dark room. His childhood sweetheart, driving drunk, had hit and killed my mother in an empty alleyway. To clear her name, my husband used our child’s life to force me to sign a statement of forgiveness. Then, just to be safe, he lied to the world, claiming I was the one who had drunkenly killed my own mother. He took my phone and locked me in a dark room for a month. By the time I was let out, the media had painted me as a selfish, vicious, cold-blooded monster. I couldn’t take the pressure. I threw myself from our apartment building. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident. This time, I locked my mother in her room and refused to let her leave. But who could have known? His precious sweetheart got behind the wheel and killed another old woman anyway. 1 I had just bolted the door to my mom’s room when my husband’s call came through. “Ella? Where are you?” His voice was a frayed rope of panic and tension. When I told him I was home, I heard him let out a quiet, shaky breath of relief. He was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “Crystal… Crystal hit someone with her car. I just finished dealing with it. I’m coming home now. You have to wait for me.” I froze, the words sinking in slowly. Crystal had hit someone again. But my mom was locked safely in her room. So who did she hit this time? The phone was on speaker, and my mom heard every word Leo said. Through the heavy oak of the door, I spoke to her. “You wanted to know why I locked you in here, why I wouldn’t let you go out.” “Promise me you’ll stay hidden in that room. Don’t make a sound until I tell you it’s okay.” “You’re about to find out why I did all this.” My mom, though confused, agreed. It wasn’t long before Leo returned. The front door flew open and he rushed towards me, pulling me into a tight, suffocating hug. His voice, muffled against the top of my head, was heavy with false sorrow. “Ella, I’m so, so sorry.” “Crystal… she accidentally hit your mother. The paramedics said… she died instantly.” 2 I shoved him away, wrenching myself from his arms. My face was a mask of disbelief. “What did you say? Who did you say she killed?” Leo looked at me with that pathetic, practiced expression of pity mixed with helplessness. “Ella, I know this is impossible to accept right now. Crystal told me everything. It wasn’t on purpose, she just… her eyes played a trick on her in the dark.” “If anyone’s to blame, it’s your mom for not watching where she was going.” “I’ve already given Crystal a piece of my mind. She’s completely traumatized, so I sent her home to rest. But she promised she’d come over in a couple of days to apologize to you in person.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Even if it wasn’t my mother who died today, it was still a human life. How could Crystal take a life and then just go home to rest, her conscience clear? “Leo, do you have any idea what you’re doing? You’re an accessory to a crime!” He sighed, pulling a folded document from his briefcase. A forgiveness agreement. He smoothed it out and held it in front of me. “I know you’re angry, but Crystal is a huge influencer with millions of followers. She can’t have a scandal like this attached to her name.” “Her father saved my life when I was a kid. I promised him I’d protect Crystal for the rest of my life. You’re my wife, Ella. We’re a team. That debt is yours to share, too.” “It was your mother who died. If you sign this, then even if this whole thing comes out later, it won’t affect Crystal.” “Just think of it as… helping me repay a debt.” My hand flew, the crack of my palm against his cheek echoing in the silent apartment. His head snapped to the side. “You’re a monster, Leo. A goddamn monster!” “Is a human life worth less than Crystal’s reputation to you?” The slap ignited a fire in his eyes. He shoved me, hard. I stumbled backward, my head cracking against the sharp corner of the coffee table. A lump, the size of an egg, instantly began to swell. He loomed over me, his face a storm cloud of disgust. “Ella, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. You are going to sign this paper.” 3 In my last life, I never understood why Leo would throw me under the bus to protect Crystal, why he would threaten me with our own child’s life. Was his wife, his child, really worth less than her pristine reputation? This time, I understood perfectly. It was because Leo never loved me. He never loved our child. The person he loved, the person he had always loved, was Crystal. I clutched my throbbing forehead, staring up at the man I had once loved, my heart churning with a thick, bitter hatred. Hatred for what happened to my mother and me in that other life. Hatred for myself, for being so blind, for marrying a creature who was less than human. My undisguised loathing seemed to pierce through his anger, and a flicker of something like regret crossed his face. He reached a hand down, as if to pull me up. “Ella, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just angry. Let me see your head, is it bleeding…?” He was cut off by the frantic ringing of his phone. It was Crystal. He answered, and her delicate, tearful voice filled the room. “Leo, what do I do? I think someone took a picture of me.” Even though Leo had meticulously cleaned up the scene right after the crash, the alley had been dark. She hadn’t noticed a figure at the other end, phone held up, capturing the whole thing. “I just got an anonymous text with a photo. It’s a picture of our backs, standing over the body. What if they go to the police?” Crystal’s sobs were theatrical. Leo’s brow furrowed in deep concern. The police. Right. It suddenly hit me. I’d been so caught up in the chaos of my second chance that I hadn’t even thought to call them. While Leo was distracted, I pulled out my own phone, my fingers flying towards the keypad. If I could just report Crystal’s hit-and-run immediately, then no matter how well Leo cleaned the scene, the police would find the evidence. But before I could dial 911, he saw me. “Ella, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you calling the cops?” he roared. His hand shot out, slapping my phone from my grasp. It clattered to the floor, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of cracks. I didn’t care. I scrambled for it, desperate. The next thing I felt was a blinding, searing pain. Leo had stomped on my hand to stop me, his shoe grinding down on my fingers. He was snarling, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he pressed down, twisting his foot, crushing my bones. “Before I came home, I wiped everything clean for Crystal. The car is already on its way to a scrap yard, and the body… the body is probably being pushed into the incinerator as we speak.” “Even if you call the cops, there won’t be a shred of evidence to prove Crystal killed your mom!” 4 “It looks like you need to be taught a lesson the hard way before you’ll learn to behave.” With that, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me to my feet. My phone was a dead, black rectangle on the floor. But that wasn’t enough for him. He started dragging me towards the spare bedroom. The dark room. An entire month of my last life spent locked in there like an animal, eating and sleeping and pissing in the same small space. The memory of that bone-deep terror was so real it made my whole body tremble. As the door loomed closer, my heart hammered against my ribs. I looked at him, my eyes pleading. “Leo, please, no. I won’t call the police. Don’t lock me in there. You know how much I hate the dark.” I was trying to appeal to whatever shred of affection, whatever memory of our marriage, still existed within him. For a moment, his expression softened. He looked away. “Ella, I don’t want to hurt you. But I promised Crystal’s father I would protect her. Just sign the damn paper, and I’ll let you go.” “Why does it have to be me?” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because it was your mother who died.” “But, Leo… how are you so absolutely certain that the person who died… was my mom?” He wasn’t expecting that. He froze. His grip on my hair loosened as he answered, almost automatically. “When Crystal called me, I drove to the scene immediately. She… she’d had a few drinks, and she was driving way too fast.” He hesitated, a hint of guilt creeping into his voice. It dropped to a near whisper. “The impact was… horrific. The body was unrecognizable.” “But I checked. She was wearing a silver bracelet on her wrist. I recognized it instantly. It was the custom one you gave your mother last year.” A custom bracelet? In that instant, everything clicked into place. I knew exactly who had died. It was my mother-in-law. Leo’s own mother. 5 Leo’s mother lived in the same complex as us. When I had the bracelets made, I ordered two identical ones—one for my mom, and one for hers. Leo wasn’t just protecting the person who killed his own mother. He had personally destroyed the evidence and sent his own mother’s body to be incinerated. The thought was so grotesquely absurd that a laugh escaped my lips, sharp and humorless. I picked up the forgiveness agreement from the floor, shoved it back in his face, and said with chilling sincerity, “Leo, I’m not qualified to sign this.” “And I’m telling you right now, if you actually force a signature on this, you will regret it for the rest of your life.” “Why?” he asked, a reflex. “Because the person who died wasn’t my mom,” I said. “It was yours.” I thought hearing this would make him pause, make him question, make him try to verify it. Instead, his face contorted with rage. He pointed a trembling finger at me. “Ella, have you lost your mind? How dare you curse my mother?” “You’d say anything to slander Crystal, wouldn’t you? It seems I was a fool to feel sorry for you.” He lunged at me again, ready to strike. I scrambled away. Watching him, a blind fool charging forward for the sake of his twisted love, I suddenly felt exhausted by it all. I sighed, preparing to call my mom out and force him to face the truth. “Leo, I’m telling you the truth. If you don’t believe me, I can…” My words were cut off by the ping of another message on his phone. It was Crystal. “Leo, is everything settled? Someone who claims they have a picture is demanding ten million dollars from me. If I don’t pay, they’re going to the police. I’m so scared.” The flicker of doubt in Leo’s eyes vanished, replaced by a storm of worry and fury. He thought for a moment, then looked at me, a slow, terrible smile spreading across his face. The words that followed were pure poison. “Besides the forgiveness statement, I just thought of an even better way to clear Crystal’s name completely.” “Ella… why don’t you take the fall for her?” “All you have to do is confess. Tell everyone that you were the one driving this morning, that you hit and killed your own mother.” “That way, even if the person with the photo comes forward, I, as your loving husband, can testify against you. I’ll say you paid them to frame Crystal.” It was the exact same plan from my previous life. My eyes burned, and a raw, ragged scream tore from my throat. “Leo, are you even human?” He was already lost in his own twisted logic, nodding to himself. “Don’t worry, Ella. I’ll hire the best defense attorney for you, get you a reduced sentence. While you’re inside, I’ll take care of our daughter, raise her myself. You won’t have a single thing to worry about.” “And when you get out, we can still be a happy family.” I choked out the words, each one tasting like blood. “You can go to hell.” “Leo, I will die before I let you get away with this!”

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After my mother and I married into the billionaire class, she decided being a shopping-obsessed socialite wasn’t enough. She wanted to be the Wicked Stepmother. To get rid of my stepbrother and monopolize the entire family fortune, one day she’d dose his juice with a laxative, the next she’d stick thumbtacks in his shoes. Our fabulous new life in a mansion was a daily circus of escalating, psychotic drama. Then, Robert’s Unattainable Ideal—the woman he’d loved and lost—saw her chance. She used the chaos my mother created as cover, setting a fire that severely burned my stepbrother, perfectly framing my mom for the attack. I, who should have been lounging by the pool as a carefree rich kid, was caught in the crossfire. My mother and I were thrown into the open ocean to die. Now I was back. Reborn. I watched my mother, Vivian, once again reaching for the bottle of laxatives, her perfectly manicured hand hovering over a glass of fresh-pressed orange juice. I pressed down hard on her wrist, fighting to stop her self-destructive insanity. “It’s just about teaching Leo a lesson, right, Mom? Don’t worry, you can leave the hard work to me.” This time, I had to take control. I had to permanently derail the horrific fate that ended us both. 1 While she was still frozen in shock, I quickly swapped the orange juice for the foul, hyper-bitter green detox concoction the chef had made for her cleanse. “Just wait, Mom. I’m going to make big brother cry, just for you.” Fearing she’d snap out of it, I clutched the noxious green liquid and stumbled over to Leo. “Leo, Mom says you have to drink this.” He shot me a glacial look, his handsome young face etched with defensive coldness. “Your psycho mom trying to give me the runs again?” I couldn’t blame him for the brutal tone. The last time he drank something from Vivian, he ended up hospitalized with severe dehydration, solidifying her reputation as the toxic stepmother. To immediately pivot Leo’s perception, I took two gulps of the bitter stuff myself. The flavor was a physical shock. “Mom said you have acne because you’re ‘too heated,’ so she wants you to drink this detox to cool down,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Your face will clear up after this, and you’ll be back to being the hottest guy in school.” Leo watched me, tears stinging my eyes from the sheer bitterness, yet I was earnestly holding out the glass for him. He hesitated for a few seconds, then snatched the glass, swallowing the whole thing in one defiant gulp. “Done. Now stop bothering me.” The intense, bitter shock hit his system, and his eyes welled up instantly. I pulled a lollipop out of my pocket, unwrapped it, and shoved it into his mouth. “Here. Sucker. Takes the nasty taste out.” Leo looked utterly assaulted. He stared at me for a long moment, not even wiping away the tears still tracking down his cheeks. I gave him a mischievous, relieved smile and bolted back into the kitchen. “Mom, see? Big brother is crying and he can’t stop!” Though completely baffled, Vivian pulled me into a proud hug. “Stella, my genius! You’re finally thinking! Leo is the biggest obstacle to us getting the money!” “Once we team up and take him down, darling, this entire fortune belongs to us!” I hugged my beautiful but brainless mother back, silently weeping inside. Our billionaire father, Robert, treated me wonderfully, not like some piece of luggage. He gave me everything I could ever want. I was already perfectly content. I was a non-blood-related stepdaughter. Why should I scheme to take everything from his only son? But I knew I couldn’t change my mother’s mind overnight. I had no choice but to follow her around, secretly implementing my plan to change our fate. Night fell. Sure enough, Vivian crept into Leo’s room and started sticking thumbtacks into his dress shoes. The moment she was gone, I slipped in. I swapped out the thumbtacks for something else entirely. 2 The next morning, my mother stood poised, ready for the drama. “That stray dog’s child thinks he can compete with me for the inheritance? I’m going to make him suffer today!” Leo, as usual, skipped breakfast and headed toward the door to grab his backpack and shoes for school. The second he slipped his feet into his loafers, he let out a strangled cry of agony. “Who put an acupressure mat in my damn shoe?” Vivian sprayed a mouthful of coffee across the room. “A what? Where are my thumbtacks?” I quickly clamped my hand over her mouth. “Mom, keep your voice down! If anyone hears you admitting to trying to hurt Leo, you’re finished!” That was exactly what happened in the last life. Leo’s feet were bloody messes. He was in the hospital for two weeks. When Robert discovered Vivian was the culprit, he nearly handed her over to the police. She only got off after days of humiliating begging. The stain on her reputation was what gave Serena, Robert’s manipulative ex, her opening later on. I quickly pitched my alternative plan. “The acupressure insoles are perfect! He’s in pain, but he can’t report us. It’s a win-win!” As Vivian started to process this, I rushed over and grabbed Leo’s arm. “Big brother, Mom says these insoles massage your feet, help your circulation, and make you grow taller!” “Stella has a pair too! We can grow taller together!” I lifted my foot to show him the exact same spikey insole in my own sneaker. Leo’s profanity was visible on his face, but seeing my innocent, eager expression, he choked it back. He yanked his arm free, shouting impatiently, “Stop touching my stuff! And mind your own business!” But for all his bluster, a few seconds later, Leo slipped the loafers back on and hobbled out the door. In the last life, Leo always spoke so cruelly to me. I hated him, so I never intervened with my mother’s antics. But later, I understood. Leo lost his mother at birth, and Robert was always too busy running his company to be a father. He was lonely and isolated. Then he gained a vicious stepmother. It was a miserable situation for any kid. My heart ached with sudden empathy. I grabbed a milk carton and a pastry, stuffing them into his free hand. “You have to eat breakfast, Leo. You need to eat to grow tall with Stella.” He looked completely shocked again. He studied me with a complex expression for a long time, then quietly left, eating the pastry. Vivian threw her arms around me, praising me wildly. “Stella, you’re so smart! Look at him wincing with every step! He must be dying!” “His miserable face makes me so mad! Think of another way to get back at him!” I fought the urge to strangle her and opted for creative misdirection instead. “Didn’t he just tell us to mind our own business? The more he doesn’t want us involved, the more we should!” “He hates eating with us. We should force him to eat huge meals, smother him with expensive food every night, and turn him into a hideous, uncomfortable fat boy!” Vivian slapped her knee, declaring me a genius. That evening, the moment Leo got home, Vivian dragged him to the dining table. “From now on, you will eat exactly what I tell you to eat, every single meal!” Before Leo could react, plates of braised pork belly, abalone, and sticky ribs were piled onto his plate. I personally peeled two massive shrimp and held them to his mouth. “Big brother, you’re too skinny. You need to eat all the good meat!” Leo’s mouth twitched, his fury visible but trapped. Vivian only leaned in closer, shoving a massive chicken drumstick directly into his mouth. “I told you to eat! You don’t leave this table until your plate is clean!” she hissed, a triumphant, wicked gleam in her eyes. But just at that moment, Robert and Serena—the Unattainable Ideal—walked through the door. 3 Serena saw Vivian holding Leo down, her face twisted in a malicious grin. She pounced immediately. “Vivian, you wicked creature! I knew you were abusing Leo again!” “The staff told me everything! This monster forced Leo to drink poisonous juice and made him cry! She put nails in his shoes so he couldn’t walk! This malicious gold-digger belongs in prison!” Serena always positioned herself as Leo’s godmother, constantly antagonizing my mom. In the previous life, she was the one who ruthlessly burned Leo and then manipulated him into naming Vivian as the culprit, leading to our deaths. I watched Robert’s face flush with rage. He raised his hand, ready to strike Vivian. I frantically jumped forward. “My mother gave Leo bitter detox juice, not poison, and she put in massage insoles, not nails! Ask Leo!” Robert froze, his hand suspended in the air. He looked at Leo, doubtful. “Is Stella telling the truth?” Leo looked at me with a peculiar expression. My stomach dropped. I thought he was about to seize the moment to finally expose my mother. Instead, Leo calmly removed the chicken drumstick from his mouth and said faintly, “Yes.” “The detox juice cleared up my acne.” “And the acupressure insoles… after a while, they’re actually really comfortable. They relax my feet, and I don’t get tired when I play basketball.” Vivian and Serena stared, dumbfounded. Neither of them had expected Leo to defend my mother. Serena grabbed his shoulder, unwilling to give up. “Then why was she yelling at you just now?” I immediately cut in. “Mom thinks Leo is too thin, so she wanted him to eat more meat.” “She cooked this whole table of food herself.” Leo’s eyes flickered at my words. Robert’s face softened, overtaken by guilt. “Vivian, I’m sorry. I misjudged you.” Vivian, finally catching up, burst into tears and threw herself into Robert’s arms, sobbing. Serena tried to interject again. I proactively grabbed Robert’s and Leo’s hands. “Dad, it’s rare for you to be home for dinner. Let’s all eat together! I’ll peel shrimp for you and Leo!” I turned to Serena. “Aunt Serena, we don’t have a seat for you at the family table. Maybe you should eat at home tonight.” Serena gritted her teeth but was left with no choice but to retreat in humiliation. For the first time, our family of four sat down for a happy, peaceful dinner. After that day, Vivian kept up the act, determined to make Leo miserable by feeding him like a pig. Unexpectedly, Leo stopped complaining. His perpetually cold expression even started to soften. Sometimes, he’d pretend to casually drop a bag of chips or a candy bar for me after school. I breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like things were turning around. But Vivian wasn’t satisfied. “That brat has too much patience! I need a new way to make him truly suffer!” Fortunately, I had learned how to easily manipulate her. “Leo’s personality means he must hate being forced to study, Mom.” “If you start forcing him to read and do homework every day, he’ll be so furious he’ll run away from home for good!” Vivian’s eyes lit up. “If he runs away and never comes back, it’s his fault! He chose to abandon the inheritance! I can’t be blamed!” She rubbed her hands together and that very day returned with three boxes of test prep books. Leo was locked in the study right after dinner and wasn’t allowed out until after midnight. As predicted, on the first night, Leo stormed out, slamming the door. Serena’s secret maid, who was clearly spying, pressed her ear to the door. This routine went on for a while. Then, one evening, Serena dragged Robert back to the house. “Vivian verbally abuses Leo every day! I’ve heard her calling him an idiot, a deadbeat, a lazy fool—all the most degrading things!” “We hear crying from the study, and sometimes the sound of a belt hitting something! Vivian is definitely abusing him in secret!” The spy maid immediately backed her up, swearing she’d seen Leo run out crying, saying my mother was a monster who tortured him. Robert was livid. He kicked the study door open. But the scene inside stunned everyone. 4 My mother was sitting on the floor, head in her hands, sobbing. “I’m such an idiot! I don’t understand this simple English grammar! Even Stella is laughing at how stupid I am!” “I don’t care, you have to teach this idiot—me!—or my own daughter will look down on me.” Leo was fighting a smile, currently trying to bargain with her. “I’ll teach you, but you have to let me skip two of those practice tests today.” Vivian argued back. “No way! Your teacher said if you just do two more tests, you might get the number one spot in your grade!” “If you can’t get first place, you’re embarrassing your father!” As she finished, I hit her lightly with a toy belt. “Bad Mommy! Leo is already Third in his grade! That’s super good! Mommy can’t call him names!” Vivian shrieked dramatically. “Stella! You are asking for it!” Leo pulled me behind him, and the three of us dissolved into a tangled pile of play-fighting. Serena’s jaw went slack. Robert just stared. “What in the world are you doing?” Serena demanded. I took a moment to explain. “Mom wants Leo to be number one in his class, so she and I are supervising his study.” “But Mom is super dumb and can’t even do one problem, so she has to beg Leo to teach her! Shame on her!” Serena looked defeated. She grabbed Leo and frantically lifted his shirt, checking for any marks. Satisfied he wasn’t physically harmed, she glared at him. “Is this woman emotionally manipulating you? If she’s bullying you, you have to tell us!” She looked at Leo, desperate for him to turn the tide. Leo simply smiled. “Vivian isn’t bullying me. She even went to my parent-teacher conference for Dad.” “No one has ever cared about my schoolwork like this. I actually think it’s pretty good.” Leo’s words wiped the anger from Robert’s face. He embraced my mother. “Thank you, Vivian. You’ve done something I never managed to do.” The tension evaporated, replaced by unexpected warmth. Vivian grinned foolishly, giving me a secret thumbs-up, thanking me silently. The truth was, the more time Vivian spent playing this role, the more she actually softened toward Leo. And Leo, getting the family attention he’d missed for years, had genuinely bonded with us. I watched Serena storm off, and my anxiety finally eased. This life, I thought, we wouldn’t be thrown into the ocean. I could finally relax and be a rich kid. But the peace didn’t last two days… I came home from kindergarten to see two fire trucks parked outside the mansion. The familiar, terrifying sight made my heart seize up. It was the fire. Again. Shaking uncontrollably, I begged the chauffeur to rush me to the hospital. Inside the hospital room, Robert was predictably screaming at my mother. “How could you hate him so much? If anything happens to Leo, I swear, you will pay with your life!” Serena stood nearby, the familiar venomous look in her eyes. “Why did the security cameras break down today? You planned this! You wanted to burn Leo alive and steal the fortune!” My mother was sobbing, devastated. “I don’t know how it started! I’m the one who called 911! I swear, it wasn’t me…” Serena slapped her across the face. “You’ve been abusing him for months! The laxative incident proves you’re a monster! I haven’t forgotten your evil deeds!” I watched my mother crumple, unable to defend herself. My heart clenched. Then, Serena suddenly shrieked. “Leo’s awake!” She rushed to his bedside, whispered something into his ear, and then urged him loudly, “Tell us! Was it Vivian who set the fire?” Robert encouraged him. “Don’t be afraid to tell the truth, son. I’m here. No one will hurt you.” He shot a furious look at Vivian, who instantly paled. I saw Leo hesitating, the same gloomy, conflicted look he had in my past life. Sweat beaded on my palms. I prayed desperately. Please, not again. I can’t go back to the ocean. I can’t be fed to the sharks! The memory of our gruesome, agonizing death made my body stiffen, unable to breathe. In the agonizing silence, Leo slowly raised his finger and pointed directly at my mother.

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The day Luke Sterling hooked up with his assistant, I went online and posted a tweet: “Urgently seeking a new husband. Must be handsome, charming, clean-living, and a paragon of virtue. $15,000 monthly allowance, full benefits included. First come, first served.” That night, it broke the internet. “A-list actor fights male models for health insurance!” “Famous screenwriter and top director brawl over pocket money!” … A week later, Luke returned from his business trip abroad. I was at home playing poker with a few A-listers, lipstick marks all over my face from losing bets. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Vivian, don’t you love me anymore?” I glanced at him and laughed recklessly. “Luke, it’s not that I don’t love you.” “It’s that the Vivian who loved you is dead.” “She died while you were kissing your little assistant in the lounge, ignoring her call for help.” Chapter 1 After getting sick, I retired from the entertainment industry. Aside from seeing my therapist, I rarely went out. Old friends gradually stopped contacting me, and I lost interest in everything. One day, I suddenly really wanted to see Luke. So, for the first time in ages, I went to his company. Standing at the door of Luke’s office, I saw a young girl lying on the sofa opposite his desk, looking pale. Luke handed her a cup of hot tea, then leaned over to cover her stomach with a blanket. “Since you feel so terrible, why don’t I give you the day off to rest at home?” She took the cup, speaking righteously, “An assistant who leaves her boss to work all alone isn’t a good assistant.” Luke lifted his chin, gesturing toward the inner room. “Then go lie down in my lounge for a bit.” The little assistant sipped the tea and joked, “No way, Senior. You’re a married man now; I have to avoid suspicion.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head helplessly. Then he looked up and saw me standing at the door. The smile at the corner of his mouth froze slightly. I was also a bit dazed. I was still thinking about the smile Luke just gave his assistant. I’ve been much slower since getting sick. Thinking back now, it seems like he hasn’t smiled that easily in front of me for a long time since my illness began. But in an instant, he put on his usual expression and walked toward me. “Vivian, what are you doing here?” He tried to take my hand, but I instinctively pulled back slightly. Luke’s hand froze in mid-air. “Senior, is this a surprise inspection?” The little assistant, holding the cup of tea Luke gave her, stood next to him. She reached out to me with a beaming smile. “I’m Joy, also a graduate of Stanford. I don’t know if you remember me, Senior?” Joy… Joy… I studied her face. A few seconds later, I remembered. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. She was Luke’s junior from the same major in college. Freshman year, she fell in love with Luke at first sight. She was enthusiastic and cheerful, like a little sun, doing things with vigor. She immediately launched a fierce pursuit. At that time, I had already entered the entertainment industry. Although Luke and I were passionately in love, I couldn’t always be by his side. But he consciously avoided any interactions with the opposite sex that might affect our relationship. So he bluntly said he had a girlfriend and remained unmoved by her advances. Naturally, she didn’t believe him. A girlfriend never seen is Schrödinger’s girlfriend. She thought it was just Luke’s excuse to reject her. It wasn’t until I finished filming and returned to school that she knew it was true. I remember she looked very lost back then, tears in her eyes. Looking at me pitifully, she asked, “Senior, can I still add his contact info? If love is gone, it’s gone, but academics must go on!” Without waiting for my response, she turned to Luke and pleaded, “Senior, if I can’t pursue you, give me a chance to be a normal classmate, okay? You’re the top student in our major. If I encounter problems in my studies later, I’ll need your helping hand!” She spoke as if she were very open and honest. But how did Luke answer back then? He said, “Sorry.” “There is no need.” “You can ask the professor directly about academic matters.” I have to say, I was very happy at the time. Standing by my side, he gave me enough security. Now, so many years have passed. Joy is still that same character, like the sun, shining warmth on everyone. And I seem to have lost all joy in life, like a black hole, swallowing all the light around me. Chapter 2 Luke still gave Joy half a day off and let her go home to rest. All afternoon, I sat in Luke’s office waiting for him to get off work. He was in meetings. I stared blankly at the half-finished cup of tea Joy left on the coffee table. After work, I sat in Luke’s passenger seat. When he leaned over to help me fasten my seatbelt, I saw a small ornament on the dashboard. It was a cute, soft white rabbit. Not something a person with a cold personality like Luke would actively put in front of him. The rabbit ornament smiled softly at me. A heavy haze covered my heart. Staring blankly for a while, I suddenly spoke, “So Joy graduated.” “Yeah.” Luke responded, then explained, “She graduated last year. As soon as she graduated, she sent a resume to our company. We were short on staff, and I saw her potential, so I hired her.” He seemed to be comforting me, but the more he said, the guiltier he sounded, so he shut up. And the sudden bit of spirit and interest I had today vanished completely. I didn’t have the energy to ask further. I just leaned my head against the car window, watching the scenery fly by. Maybe, for a sick person like me. Even if today he said “there is no need” just like many years ago, giving me enough security, I wouldn’t feel happy. Chapter 3 After seeing his smile in Luke’s office, I learned to pay more attention to him. He seemed to be constantly accommodating me. Maybe out of consideration for my illness. In the past, he would share funny stories from his startup days, finding joy in hardship; he would slack off to tell me he missed the coffee I made him and the chicken soup I stewed; he would patiently listen to me ramble about bizarre events in the entertainment industry. He would share his joys, sorrows, and longing with me. Now, he has almost no emotions toward me other than gentleness. It seems that unknowingly, I lost the desire to share, leaving only unhappiness. Then, I brought my black hole emotions to him. We still cuddle to sleep and eat breakfast face to face. Everything seems the same as before. But there is an indescribable barrier between us. Luke’s smile in front of Joy always flashes before my eyes. He hasn’t been that relaxed in front of me for a long time. I made him unhappy. I want to change. In a few days, it will be our wedding anniversary. Maybe I can use a bouquet of flowers, a cake, or the coffee and chicken soup he used to miss to help me get out of this state, to help us tear open this barrier. So on our anniversary, I called him and said, “Luke, today I bought a bouquet of roses, a cake, made chicken soup, and brewed coffee.” So, do you want to come back early for dinner? Luke probably didn’t expect me to be so spirited suddenly. He was silent for a moment before replying, “I have urgent work overtime tonight, but I’ll be home before midnight.” “I prepared a gift for you. Wait for me, Vivian.” “Okay, I’ll wait for you.” I hung up the phone and sat quietly alone in the dim candlelight. The bright roses, sweet cake, and rich chicken soup on the table couldn’t make me feel the slightest bit of joy. Only endless darkness, as if it would swallow me whole the next second. Finally, I picked up the chicken soup and cake, holding the roses, and went out. Go to him. Go to him, and maybe I can escape the darkness, escape the silence, escape the powerlessness and suffocation. When I drove through the night to the underground parking garage of Luke’s company, I saw him rushing out of the elevator. Before I could get out of the car, he stepped on the gas and sped away. He was in a hurry. He abandoned the urgent work that required overtime. There was something more important. Going home? Going home to drink my chicken soup, eat cake with me, and celebrate our anniversary? Or… I drove after him. I thought, if he goes home, I can’t let him wait too long. But within five minutes, I knew his direction wasn’t the way home. The night grew darker, and the haze in my heart deepened. Subconsciously, I guessed the truth. But my heart struggled unwillingly. Maybe… maybe it’s just because I think too much after getting sick. I stepped on the gas and followed behind him. Looking at the rear of Luke’s car, I had extreme impulses several times. Why not just crash into him directly and perish together? Then anything I fear happening won’t have to happen. Passing a crossroads, the yellow light flickered. I didn’t let up on the gas. A large truck was coming from the intersection on the right. If I ran the red light, maybe I could push Luke under the truck with me. Then die. Never having to face the possibly bloody reality again. Until a loud “HONK—” The ear-piercing long horn of the truck woke me up, and I slammed on the brakes. “Damn it! Do you have a death wish? Kill yourself if you want, don’t drag others down!” The cursing of other drivers came from outside the window. I woke up. My heart beat violently. Lying on the steering wheel in a cold sweat, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I really am sick. Even seeking death, I involuntarily want to use such a vicious method. The green light turned on. Suppressing all terrifying thoughts, I caught up with Luke ahead. Arriving at an apartment complex, he got out of the car quickly. Running past my car, he didn’t notice me. He just rushed into a residential building while on the phone: “I’m almost there!” I sat in the car staring at that building for a while, then followed. The elevator in the building was broken. A yellow “Under Maintenance” warning sign surrounded the elevator entrance. But the voice-activated light at the stairwell entrance was on. Luke must have rushed into the emergency exit and climbed the stairs. I stood at the entrance, looking at the steps one by one under the dim light inside, looking like they could swallow me. But I still followed. One step, two steps… First floor, second floor… Listening to the sound of Luke running up the stairs, following the voice-activated lights he triggered, I climbed step by step, step by step to the thirteenth floor. The light on the fourteenth floor didn’t turn on. Luke’s destination was the thirteenth floor. I climbed a few more steps and sat down at the corner between the thirteenth and fourteenth floors. Then, I heard a rush of footsteps. Luke’s voice was a bit panicked: “Hold on a bit, I’ll take you to the hospital right away.” I slowly poked my head out and saw Luke rushing out of the corridor holding the little assistant who was groaning in pain in his arms, running down the stairs. I could see he was very worried, very anxious. He was entirely focused on the pale and fragile little assistant in his arms. So, he didn’t discover me. The voice-activated lights turned on one by one following Luke’s footsteps, then went out one by one. The surroundings fell into darkness, only the “EXIT” sign in the corner still emitting a faint green light. I sat there, letting myself be completely submerged by the darkness. It seems something changed long ago when I wasn’t aware. In Luke’s heart, there was something more important than his company, more important than me. The phone alarm rang. It was midnight. “Happy anniversary, Vivian.” I said to myself.

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