Category: English

I bought a used laptop online. I was expecting a beat-up machine. Instead, I received the brand-new, latest model. I opened it up. The wallpaper was a photo of me. The password? My birthday. Just as I was wondering if this was some secret admirer’s surprise gift… My phone blew up. The seller was spamming me: “Girl, I messed up! I mailed you my sister’s new laptop!” “That wasn’t the one for sale! OMG, she’s going to end me.” “Did you see the guy on the wallpaper? That’s my brother-in-law. She’s obsessed with him.” “For the sake of a hopeless romantic, can you please send it back?” 1 My four-year-old laptop finally gave up the ghost. Blue screen of death. No coming back. I was broke, waiting on my next paycheck, so buying brand new wasn’t an option. I decided to go second-hand. High risk, high reward. I spent four days scrolling through Marketplace until I found “The One.” It fit my budget perfectly, and the seller seemed chill. In the spirit of saving every penny, I decided to play the game. I pulled out the big guns and sent a message that would make any seller cringe: “Would you take $200?” A brave lowball offer from a broke man, praying for a miracle. I was ready for her to curse me out, block me, and roast me on Reddit. Instead, she replied instantly: “Sure. I’ll cover shipping too.” Mom, I think I met an angel. I was so moved I almost cried. I copy-pasted a wall of generic, flattering blessings to her default avatar: “You’re a queen,” “Manifesting wealth for you,” “You’re too kind, good karma is coming your way,” “May you win the lottery, get a promotion, have eight kids, and marry your crush.” She didn’t reply to any of that until the last one: “I claim that energy.” Of course. Everyone wants to win the lottery. Me too. I paid and filled in my address. She messaged: “We’re in the same city. Can you pick it up?” “Sure.” A while later, she texted back: “Sorry, something came up. I have to go out of town tomorrow. I can’t meet.” I quickly typed: “I can come grab it now. Where are you?” She seemed cautious and didn’t drop the address. “Too far. I’ll have my family courier it to you tomorrow.” The next afternoon, I didn’t have classes. I got home, and the package was waiting. Excited, I tore open the box. My smile froze. Something was wrong. Very wrong. This laptop was Rose Gold. The one I bought in the pictures was Space Gray. And looking at the sleek design, this was the latest flagship model. The price tag on this thing was at least ten times what I paid. Confused, I turned it over in my hands. My finger accidentally brushed the power button. The screen lit up instantly. A familiar face stared back at me. I froze. It was a photo of me. In the picture, I was standing under a cherry blossom tree, holding an ice cream cone, waving at the camera with a goofy grin. Based on my outfit, I was in high school. I looked young, energetic. Alive. Unlike now—working a 9-to-5, running on fumes, basically quiet quitting life. Why would a stranger have my photo as their wallpaper? A thought crept in: Was this a surprise gift from a friend or family member? I did just complain on my Instagram story about my laptop dying. I looked at the password prompt. I typed in my birthday. Click. Unlocked. The desktop background was me, too. The laptop was pristine. No apps installed. Just the wallpaper change. My theory solidified. I grabbed my phone to text the seller, intending to ask which friend put her up to this so I could thank them properly. But before I could type, a barrage of notifications flooded my screen. “Girl, I am so sorry. I sent the wrong one. That’s my sister’s new computer.” “It’s not the one I sold you! Ahhh, she’s going to kill me!” “Hello? Are you there? Please reply!” “I’m begging you. I was helping her ship stuff, I was half asleep, I grabbed the wrong box!” “Did you see the hot guy on the wallpaper? That’s her future husband. She cries if she doesn’t see him for a day. She’s obsessed.” “For the sake of a hopeless romantic, can you please return it?” 2 I stared at the phone in silence. The “future husband” on the wallpaper didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. I tried to rationalize it. I’m a decent-looking guy. Maybe the photo got out online and became a stock image or a meme, and the seller just happened to use it. As for the birthday… plenty of people are born on the same day. Coincidence. The seller’s panic seemed genuine, albeit dramatic. “She cries if she doesn’t see him.” Sounds like something a middle schooler would write in fanfiction. I texted back: “Okay. I’ll return it.” I knew it was a mistake. My first instinct was to give it back. I didn’t want them calling the cops. I just started my tenure-track teaching job. I needed stability, not a grand larceny charge. The seller sent a string of crying emojis and “Thank yous.” “You’re a lifesaver!” “I’ll wait for you at the mall near the Elementary School. It should be close to you. Call me when you get there.” “Deal.” I grabbed the expensive laptop and headed to the mall. I scanned the entrance but didn’t see anyone matching the seller’s vibe. I was about to call. Then I saw her. Lily Bennett. One of my students. She was staring at her oversized pink smartwatch, stomping her foot, looking nervous as hell. Seeing her triggered a memory from this morning. She had cornered me during recess, whispering: “Mr. Hayes, do you have a girlfriend?” I shook my head. “No, Lily.” She clapped her hands and dragged another boy, Noah, over to me. She looked up with dead serious eyes. “Mr. Hayes, I have two options for you…” She paused, checked a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, and continued. “Option one: You become my brother-in-law. Option two: You become his uncle-in-law. Pick one.” I didn’t process it immediately. Then I remembered Lily is Noah’s aunt. Noah chimed in, waving his arms. “Yeah! My aunt is super pretty, super nice. She’s tall, like 5’9″, she’s a cop, and she’s got a great… personality!” I laughed. They were trying to set me up. But I didn’t take a third grader’s matchmaking seriously. I held up two fingers. “I’ll give you two options. One: Double homework. Two: Triple homework. Pick one.” They went silent. Lily’s face paled at the mention of homework. She grabbed Noah and bolted. Now, seeing her at the mall, I wanted to hide. Lily was a chatterbox. I didn’t need another “Choose your own adventure” dating proposal. I turned around, pretending to inspect the sky, then my shoes. Don’t make eye contact. “Mr. Hayes!” Too late. She sprinted toward me on her short legs, waving frantically. “What a coincidence, Mr. Hayes!” Then her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re not waiting for a girlfriend, are you?” I rubbed my temples. I looked around. No parents. It was 7:30 PM. Sun was setting. I crouched down to her level. “What are you doing here? Where are your parents?” Lily flashed her smartwatch. “I may look like I’m loitering, but I am actually protecting my sister’s love life… and my own life!” She was so dramatic. “Does your mom know you’re here? It’s getting dark.” Lily pointed to a sleek luxury car parked by the curb. “It’s fine. The driver is right there.” I nodded. Then I remembered why I was here. I hadn’t found the seller yet. I dialed the number from the chat. The next second. Lily’s smartwatch started ringing. 3 I have never seen a child’s face cycle through so many emotions in five seconds. Lily stared at the laptop in my arms. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. Then, realization hit her like a truck. Her voice trembled. “Mr… Mr. Hayes? You bought the computer?” “I… uh… I was just making stuff up on the app!” I handed the laptop to her. “Here. Take it.” I paused. “Lying isn’t a good habit, Lily. Also, tell your sister to refund my money.” Lily panicked. “Teacher! I can’t refund it! If the money disappears, she’ll know I sold it to you! She’ll kill me!” She rubbed her face, fake crying. “Boohoo, she hits really hard. You don’t want me to come to school with a black eye, do you?” “I thought you said she was a cop? Cops beat people up?” “What? Oh! No! She doesn’t hit people. She only hits me. No, wait, she doesn’t hit me either. She’s actually really nice! A total sweetheart! Mr. Hayes, please…” Her lie was falling apart. I sighed. “Lily, listen. You haven’t given me the other computer—the one I actually paid for. If I don’t get a computer, I need a refund. That’s how math works.” Lily wiped her dry tears and looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. “Mr. Hayes… can you come to my house and get it?” 4 I followed Lily into her house. Everyone in the living room turned to look at us. Lily greeted them politely. “Hi Mom, hi Dad.” “Sis… you’re back?” I followed her gaze to a woman resting on the sofa, eyes closed. This must be the older sister. She wore a casual T-shirt and sweatpants. Her skin was a healthy tan, and even relaxed, I could see the definition of muscles under the fabric. She had long legs, sharp features, and an undeniable aura of cool. Lily didn’t mention her sister looked like a supermodel. I stared. I couldn’t help it. Lily tugged on my sleeve. “Mr. Hayes, you’re drooling.” “I am not.” I coughed awkwardly and whispered, “Just get me the computer.” Lily ran over to the sleeping woman and shook her arm. “Riley! Wake up! Emergency! Big emergency!” The parents intervened. “Lily, stop it. Riley just got back from a case. She’s exhausted.” The parents walked over to me, looking confused. “And you are?” I was confused too. Lily’s “parent” added me on social media right after the school year started. They liked all my posts. I post a lot. Selfies, rants, food. There’s no way they wouldn’t recognize me. But they looked at me like a total stranger. I smiled professionally. “Hi, I’m Lily’s homeroom teacher, Harper Hayes.” Before the parents could react, the woman on the couch snapped her eyes open. She looked straight at me. Her gaze was sharp, tactical. Police eyes. I quickly looked away to avoid being caught staring. “Oh! Mr. Hayes! Come in, come in!” The parents ushered me in. Lily, meanwhile, was ignoring the mission. She was bargaining with her sister. “Tank! Buy me the big Lego tank! Or else…” Riley Bennett covered her ears, grabbed Lily by the collar of her uniform, and tossed her aside like a sack of potatoes. “I said no tank until you pass Math. Be quiet.” I sat on the sofa. Lily’s mom brought me tea. “Mr. Hayes, did Lily get in trouble? She is a handful. If she’s bothering you, let us know.” “No, no,” I waved my hands. “Lily is great. I actually… bought a computer from Lily. Or rather, from Riley. I’m just here to pick it up.” “Riley? Why are you just standing there? Go get Mr. Hayes his computer.” Riley stood up, frowning slightly. Her eyes—beautiful, almond-shaped—seemed deep in thought. She walked past me without a word, heading to her room. Lily punched the sofa cushion. “She won’t buy it. She’s a villain. Riley Bennett is a villain.” I decided to make small talk to break the tension. “Lily is actually a good student. Very talkative. She’s already talked three desk-mates into requesting a seat change…” Before I could finish, a slice of orange was shoved into my mouth. “Mr. Hayes, you talk too much. Eat some fruit. My sister peeled it.” I looked down at the little menace. She was glaring at me. Lily hopped off the sofa and dragged the expensive laptop onto the coffee table. She opened it. The screen lit up. My face, under the cherry blossom tree, beamed at the whole family. Lily went “Whoa!” Her parents leaned in. Then looked at the screen. Then at me. Riley walked out of her bedroom at that exact moment. Lily made a dramatic ‘O’ shape with her mouth. “Oh my god, Riley! Why is Mr. Hayes on your wallpaper? That’s so… specific.”

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Claire and I weren’t just a couple; we were a shared history, two chapters bound in the same book. We grew up on the same quiet street, went through high school together, and then, without a single spoken negotiation, listed the same highly selective university on our applications. Everyone called us an inevitability. Four years of college were a continuous loop of shared existence. I hit the gym court, and she had the water bottle ready. I lived in the engineering lab, and she saved my favorite spot in the quiet stacks of the library. Even Mrs. Kim, the manager at the campus grill, would hold back the last plate of her famous chicken burger for “the little professors.” Our perfect symmetry held until the day the acceptance letters arrived for graduate school. I was in. She wasn’t. What made my heart plummet further was my advisor’s offer: a direct-track Ph.D., fully funded, based on my postgraduate research. I panicked internally. I was terrified of putting my life so far ahead of hers, of the distance it would create. But Claire, eyes shining with unshed tears, reached up and kissed my forehead. “You think a piece of paper defines us, Cam? Don’t be stupid. Your success is my bragging right. I’d wait forever for you.” The day my doctoral dissertation passed, I clutched a flight ticket I’d bought the night before, rushing straight back to her apartment. Tucked deep in my pocket was the engagement ring I’d saved for three grueling years. This was it. I was finally going to ask her. I stopped cold on the sidewalk in front of her building. The air hissed out of my lungs. A poster was stretched taut across the entry to the building, a gaudy, screaming in primary colors: CONGRATULATIONS TO Claire AND RHYS—WELCOME BABY BOY. …… Claire. The name I’d spoken for twenty-something years felt like rust and metal in my throat. I was nailed to the spot as the familiar front door swung open. She emerged. Still the same gentle face, the same soft curve of her smile, but in her arms, she was carefully cradling an infant. Beside her, a man I didn’t recognize wrapped an arm around her shoulder with proprietary affection. Her face was serene, radiating a completeness I’d never seen before. The neighbors’ voices buzzed like angry wasps around my ears: “Look at that family of three, perfect, aren’t they?” “Rhys is such a doting father. He cooked for her every single day she was pregnant.” “And so thoughtful to her mom! He and Diane are like mother and son.” Blood hammered in my temples. I wanted to rip that poster down, to grab her and demand the truth. She said she would wait forever… I took a blind step forward, but a cool hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around and faced Diane, Claire’s mother. In my memories, her face was always wreathed in the warmest, kindest smiles. I remembered her stroking my hair, sliding her father’s heirloom timepiece onto my wrist years ago, telling me, “This is for the man who marries my girl.” Now, her face was etched with a complex mix of guilt and exhaustion, her lips pressed into a thin, white line. “What are you doing back?” Tears instantly flooded my eyes. I gripped her arm, my voice catching and shredding. “Diane, why? She told me she wouldn’t marry anyone but me…” Her gaze flickered down to the empty space on my wrist where her father’s watch should have been. She sighed, her tone weary and brutally honest. “You left, Cameron. You went off to chase that Ph.D. for years. How much time does a girl have? Claire couldn’t wait. We couldn’t afford to wait.” She let out a heavy sigh, a flicker of shame in her eyes. “I was the one who pushed her to go on dates. She fought me at first, locked herself in her room, just staring at your old photos…” “But then she met Rhys… He’s solid. Gentle. He wanted a real life, a family, now. Not after five more years of research and papers.” She looked at my tear-streaked face with pity, but the dominant emotion was a rigid, final detachment. “You and Claire… your chapter is closed.” “She’s happy now. Rhys is a good son-in-law, and that baby is the air we breathe. You need to let go, son. Move on… And please, don’t try to see her again.” She withdrew her hand, turning to join the bright, noisy scene—her new son-in-law, her grandchild. The last bit of scaffolding that had held me upright shattered. I stood in the shadow, a disoriented ghost, watching Diane take the baby and laugh, watching her hug Rhys and whisper something. The sunlight was warm and golden on their perfect circle. The velvet box in my pocket—the one holding the ring I’d saved three years for—dug a searing crescent into my palm. The world began to spin, blurring at the edges. I felt the last anchor line snap, and heard the muffled thud as my body hit the pavement. Darkness rushed in. The last thing I saw was that glaring, triumphant poster. I woke up in a sterile, white hospital room. Claire was slumped in the chair next to the bed, deep, dark shadows beneath her eyes. Startled by my movement, she bolted upright, leaning close. Her finger brushed my cheek, her voice rough and cracked. “You’re awake? Where does it hurt? The police called. They said you collapsed outside the apartment…” She choked on the words, swallowing hard, her eyes flooding red. I stared at her genuine panic and pain, and a memory, sharp and specific, cut through the fog. The winter after my parents’ accident. I was seventeen, a ghost in the funeral home corner, staring at their fixed, black-and-white smiles. She was the one who pushed open that heavy oak door, knelt by me, and chafed the circulation back into my frozen hands. “Don’t be scared, Cam,” she’d promised, her voice clear and strong. “I’ll be your family now.” She had kept that promise. Matching university codes on application forms. Waking up at 4 AM during my finals week to make me coffee. Video-calling me at midnight during my most brutal dissertation months just to read highly technical reference papers aloud. “My little genius,” she’d told me, “you have to fly high.” But now… “Was the dissertation defense too much?” she whispered, wiping the moisture from my cheek with her thumb. “Or did all that pressure I put on you… did that finally break you?” She lowered her head, gently pressing her forehead to mine, just like she did whenever I was upset as a child. “Don’t be stupid,” her voice was muffled against me. “Even if you never graduated, I’d still take care of you. I meant it. No matter what, I’ve got you.” I knew she meant it now, too. Just as I knew the phone in her jeans pocket was vibrating. The caller ID, which I could just make out, was listed as “Rhys.” It was the third time the screen had lit up. She finally pulled away, glancing down at the phone, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “I have to take this.” She stood and walked toward the door, her tone still gentle. “Hello? Did the baby wake up again? Okay, use the 40ml scoop… and check the water temperature first, you know how he gets…” The door clicked shut, but her voice drifted through the gap. “Formula can, third shelf… I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing a path down my temple. I heard the girl on the snowy sidewalk saying, “Don’t be scared.” I heard the twenty-three-year-old in the library kissing my forehead and promising, “I’ll wait forever.” I heard the woman next to my bed insisting, “No matter what, I’ve got you.” And then I heard the present—the familiar, loving cadence of her voice, directed at another man, nurturing their new life. The call ended. My heart was finally, completely dead. She pushed the door open, her face a mix of lingering worry and apology. But that worry was now divided, split between me and the husband and son on the other end of the line. “Something came up with work,” she said, her eyes shifting away from mine. “I have to go home for a bit.” I watched her, and then, very quietly, I laughed. “Go.” I turned my head toward the window. Her guilt deepened. “I… I’ll come right back after I handle it.” She turned and left the room quickly. A moment later, a nurse pushed the door open, smiling softly. “Was that your fiancée? She’s a trooper. Watched you all night, her eyes were so bloodshot.” She handed me a few sheets of paper and turned to leave. I gripped the thin paper, staring out at the hallway where Claire’s shadow had just disappeared. A faint sound echoed in my mind. The old, drafty apartment we’d rented while in school. She’d wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on the top of my head. “We’ll have two,” she’d said. “One smart like you, one handsome like me.” “Our parents would be so happy. You’ll have a house, a big, noisy, full life.” The sunset back then had filtered through the window, bathing the whole room in a warm gold. Now, there was only the pale, clinical glare of the hospital lamp. I didn’t have a family anymore. My parents were long gone, and Claire… she had become someone else’s family. My phone vibrated. A text from a number I didn’t know. It was a photo. Rhys was holding the baby, smiling genially at the camera. Diane stood beside them, looking every bit the proud grandmother. Claire was tucked into Rhys’s side. The background was clearly their living room. Rhys’s hand, resting casually on the baby carrier strap, was wearing an heirloom watch. I automatically lifted my hand to my wrist. Empty. It had been taken off me while I was unconscious. When? I gave a dry, self-mocking laugh. Maybe when she was stroking my face and calling me “stupid” for thinking I could lose her? The text continued below the image: “The watch looks good on me, don’t you think? Rhys. By the way. And the little guy? Claire says his eyes are exactly like mine.” “We didn’t meet on a blind date, Cameron. We met while you were busy writing the abstract for your final defense. The day after she promised you forever, to be precise.” “All those years in the ivory tower, Cam. All that brilliance. And you couldn’t see the one thing happening right under your nose. I helped her pick out the poster, just for you.” Each word was a poisoned dart, sinking into the last warm corner of my heart. Her late-night video calls, reading me references, overlapped with the quiet, domestic moments where she was falling for, and starting a life with, another man. A wave of gut-churning nausea swept over me. The last vestige of hope, of hesitation, was crushed by this malicious show of victory. I opened a travel app and booked a one-way flight for the next morning. There was nothing left here worth staying for. The next morning, I checked myself out of the hospital. The sky was gray, spitting a fine, cold rain. Since my parents’ deaths, I had technically lived with Claire until college, but I still had a few boxes of books and belongings in her old room. I needed to cut the tie clean. The key slid into the lock, turning with a stiff, heavy click. I pushed the door open. The familiar space was saturated with an alien scent. My old black leather loafers were gone from the entry, replaced by a pair of new, chunky, cable-knit slippers. The mismatched ceramic mugs Claire and I had made in a disastrous college art class were now a lone, chipped survivor on the shelf above the kettle. The living room sofa was covered with a beige, floral throw I didn’t recognize, and the coffee table held a mother-and-baby magazine and a half-empty bottle of bottle-washing soap. Each replaced object felt like a tiny, sharp splinter. “Rhys? You’re back early today…” Diane’s voice called out from the back of the apartment, carrying its usual, bright tone. Her footsteps approached, and her smile instantly froze the moment she saw me standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” She instinctively blocked the hallway. “Claire isn’t here. Please just go, don’t start trouble.” Start trouble. The phrase landed softly, but the impact was a dull, bruising ache in my chest. “I’ve come for the few things I left here,” my voice was unnervingly calm. “I’ll be gone once I’ve got them.” A look of distress flashed across Diane’s face, but before she could speak, the sound of a key turning and a man’s footsteps came from outside. Rhys pushed the door open, a baby bundled in his arms. The soft smile he wore for his son hardened into raw hostility when his eyes met mine. “What the hell are you doing here?” He clutched the baby tighter. “Didn’t my text spell it out clearly enough? Claire is my wife now, we have a child! How dare you show up at my home?” He took a step closer, and I was hit with the sweet, sickening scent of baby formula on his shirt. “Who let you in? Get out! Get out now!” He shoved his free hand into my shoulder. I stumbled back, my spine hitting the cold, sharp edge of the shoe rack. “Rhys, stop it…” Diane tried to intervene. “Mom!” Rhys’s voice was a harsh threat. “If you take his side, I’m walking out right now, and I’m taking my son with me!” Diane’s outstretched hand froze mid-air, then fell away. She turned her face, defeated. Just then, the door swung open again. Claire walked in, bringing the cold air of the street with her. She stopped dead, her eyes scanning the scene. Her face instantly drained of color. “Claire!” Rhys practically threw himself at her. “He just barged in, he scared the baby! He even shoved me and nearly made me drop him!” Claire’s eyes darted frantically between Rhys and me, but her attention immediately snapped to the infant’s face in Rhys’s arms. That tiny, wrinkled face completely commandeered her focus. “I didn’t push him.” My voice was low, firm, but she ignored me. At that exact moment, Rhys let out a sharp, theatrical yelp and deliberately swayed backward. The baby in his arms dipped dangerously low. Claire’s eyes widened in sheer terror. Instinct took over. She shoved me aside with all her strength. “The baby!” I was caught completely off guard. I lost my balance and crashed backward. The vase on the entryway table shattered. I felt the stinging of shards against my skin. A warm, slick sensation began to spread from my lower abdomen. It pooled quickly on the floor, a patch of shocking, vivid red. The sounds of the world rushed away. All that was left was the tearing pain in my gut and the sight of that rapidly expanding stain. I curled into a ball on the cold tile, unable to make a sound, only able to look up at the woman who was frozen, clutching her child. Her face was a mask of horrified disbelief, staring at the blood beneath me. I opened my mouth, tears blurring my vision as I forced the words out. “Claire…” “Did I become so disposable that you had to destroy me to protect him?”

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My boyfriend had a stepsister who was diagnosed with a serious illness. He begged me to sell the house I just got from the demolition compensation to pay for her treatment. “It’s a matter of life and death. Help her this once, please?” His words didn’t move me in the slightest. Thinking of the scene I just witnessed, him secretly kissing this so-called sister, I only felt disgusted. 1 I got five apartments from the demolition compensation. Soon after, my boyfriend, Liam Chen, gave up his guaranteed spot for a master’s degree at Stanford and found a job locally, saying he didn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship anymore. Today was our first night living together. As soon as the door closed, Liam pressed my wrist, kissing down from my earlobe. In a trance, I suddenly remembered my best friend asking me a few days ago if I remembered Lia Chen, Liam’s stepsister. “I heard she was diagnosd with a serious illness recently. The treatment cost shouldn’t be a small amount.” “You guys were long-distance for three years, and he never mentioned coming here to develop his career. But as soon as your family got the demolition compensation, he came over?” “And he had to give up a guaranteed spot at Stanford. That’s Stanford…” Finally, I couldn’t hold back. When his hand was on my waist, I called him, “Liam.” “Hmm?” “Why did you suddenly give up the guaranteed admission?” Liam paused slightly, looked up at me, and said word by word, “Chloe Zhou, I’m not after your money.” “What about Lia?” “What does it have to do with her?” Liam’s voice lowered, obviously displeased. Looking at his darkened eyes, a trace of uneasiness arose in my heart. Once, I secretly went to New York to find Liam, wanting to give him a surprise. Unexpectedly, downstairs at his dorm, I saw Lia hugging him from behind. “You’re with her just to piss me off, right?” “Of course not.” Liam quickly pushed her away. “How can you compare to her?” I was shocked at the time. Lia actually had such feelings for him. But fortunately, Liam seemed very repulsed. “Babe.” Liam leaned over silently, interrupting this topic with practical action. “Been long-distance for so long, you miss me too, right?” His voice went past my ear, carrying a subtle hint, soft and teasing. He had never treated me like this before. In our three years of dating, we never crossed the line. He said that kind of thing should wait until marriage. My body immediately felt tingly like an electric shock, and my thoughts went haywire. 2 The atmosphere was right, and I subconsciously asked again, “How much is Lia’s surgery fee?” “Chloe, I’ll say it again, I’m not after your money.” “Giving up the guaranteed admission is because I negotiated a project with a company here, and they promised to give me five percent equity.” “After the project is completed, I will continue my master’s degree.” Liam looked down at me. Both his expression and tone were very frank. But one thing was, from beginning to end, he was deliberately avoiding topics related to Lia. I wanted to say something else, but his kiss landed fiercely. “It’s so good that all of Chloe’s firsts were given to me.” Hearing his faint laughter, I blushed and retorted, “Aren’t yours too?” Liam obviously stiffened. Liam’s phone rang inappropriately. It was Lia. As soon as the call connected, Lia’s loud crying came from the other end. “Brother, it hurts so much. Do you think I’m going to die…” “Can you come over and accompany me, please?” Liam hung up abruptly. The warm yellow light of the bedside lamp extended to his lowered eyelashes. His quiet appearance made me flustered. “Are you going to the hospital?” He suddenly pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my hair. “Not going. I’ll stay right here. Sleep.” … It seemed to rain heavily in the second half of the night. Woken up by thunder, I instinctively turned over to find Liam. There was no one beside me. Not only the bedroom, I searched the whole house and didn’t see him. Liam was not at home. I sat blankly on the sofa all night, dialing Liam’s phone countless times during the period. No one answered. My emotions suddenly became incredibly anxious, dialing nonstop. The tenth time, the phone rang once, and then, it was hung up by the other side. 3 Waking up on the sofa the next day, the sky was still dim, and there was an extra thin blanket on my body. The sound of淅沥 water came from the bathroom in the master bedroom. It should be Liam who came back and was taking a shower. Stepping towards the bedroom with weak steps, I needed an explanation from him. The lights were on inside, and the door was ajar. I saw an unfamiliar profile. It was actually Lia. She was carefully tidying up the clothes Liam had just taken off on the bed, without any taboo. Blue tie, white shirt, black trousers… Even the most private ones, dark blue boxer briefs. Her movements were incredibly skilled, as if she had done this countless times. “Lia, pass me the clothes.” Liam’s voice came from the bathroom. Lia skillfully took out a new pair of boxer briefs from the closet and handed them through the crack of the bathroom door. Liam also took them very naturally. This scene stunned me directly. Even Lia didn’t notice when I walked over. “Did you sleep well on the sofa?” “I’m really sorry. Just now, my brother intended to carry you to the bed to sleep. Who made me happen to feel unwell? My brother felt distress for me so he…” She deliberately paused before making a soft tsk sound, “I have to say, my brother’s bed is really soft.” “Put away your thoughts.” I interrupted her coldly, “Liam will explain this to me. No need for you to add oil and vinegar.” Although I said so, my mind couldn’t help but recall the scene just now. This… didn’t look like siblings, more like lovers. “A girlfriend would do things like tidying up private clothes. Don’t bother yourself as a sister.” “Girlfriend? You don’t think my brother genuinely likes you, do you?” “I heard you secretly crushed on my brother for many years before?” She looked me up and down with that disdainful look. I looked at her, completely stunned. This matter has always been my secret. How did she know? In school, Liam was quite famous. Good-looking, good grades, just a bit aloof. We were desk mates. I silently liked him for several years but didn’t dare to confess. During the freshman winter break, at an old classmates gathering, it was very sudden that Liam confessed to me, and we naturally got together. I heard Liam’s father remarried that year too. “Of course my brother told me.” She seemed to see through my thoughts at a glance and laughed very proudly. I stood frozen in place, almost overwhelmed by a huge sense of shame. Lia still wouldn’t let me go, her tone very arrogant, “To raise money for my surgery, my brother was even willing to give up the Stanford guaranteed admission.” “So what if you’re a girlfriend? In his heart, can you compare to me?” “Also not right, he has never touched you, what kind of girlfriend are you.” “Do you know he and I—” “Enough.” I didn’t want to listen and turned to leave. Lia grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go. “What, afraid to listen now?” I shook her off fiercely. A painful muffled groan came from behind. Lia fell wretchedly on the ground, her messy long hair covering half of her face, her lips white. This scene was happened to be seen by Liam who just came out of the bathroom. I could feel the coldness in his eyes very obviously. He walked over, grabbing my arm forcefully, pulling my whole body forward, “She’s a patient. Why are you bickering with her?” My arm was pinched painfully. Liam seemed completely unaware, his face full of anger. “Brother…” Liam instantly flung me away. I clutched my arm and staggered a few steps, watching helplessly as he picked Lia up in his arms and hurried out of the bedroom. 4 Liam didn’t come back all day. I heard that in the evening, Lia started vomiting blood uncontrollably without warning and was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. When I got there, Liam was standing straight outside the operating room. Beside him, Lia’s mother was crying with her face covered. “Liam.” I called him. He stood still, as if he didn’t hear. Minutes later, the doors to the operating room were pushed open, and a nurse hurried out. “The spare blood is used up. Is anyone here type B blood?” Lia’s mother almost fainted hearing this. “Neither he nor I are.” Liam turned to look at me. “Chloe, you’re type B blood.” “I have anemia, did you forget?” I asked him. People with severe anemia are not suitable for blood donation; there is a risk of inducing myocardial infarction and cerebral infarction. Liam knew about this. When he found out I had anemia before, Liam asked very slightly, “Anemia is so severe, why didn’t you tell me?” He said, “Chloe, I will slowly understand you little by little in the future.” At that moment, his guilt and pity were genuine. Unfortunately now, he even forgot I had anemia. After I reminded him, not only did he not feel guilty at all, but his tone also began to become impatient, “You need to distinguish which is more important.” “I won’t joke with my own life.” I replied decisively. “If you hadn’t pushed her this morning, how could she suddenly have an attack?” He said accusingly. “That was because she—” Before I could finish, I was interrupted coldly by Liam, “Chloe, people have to be responsible for their own actions.” Looking at his calm and composed face, I couldn’t tell if I was angry or sad. In the stalemate interval, another nurse ran over and said they found spare blood in the blood bank again. The operating lights lit up again. Until the operation ended, Liam and I didn’t say another word. Hearing the doctor say Lia was fine, I left. Returning to Liam’s house, I began packing my things. One of the apartments I got from the demolition was renovated, I intended to move there. Contacting the moving company and scheduling the moving time, it was already past midnight. Suddenly received Lia’s friend request, “Tell you something.” Hesitated for a few seconds, still approved it. Lia immediately sent a sentence: “I fell on purpose.” Before I could react, she withdrew it in seconds. Another sentence came, “With your IQ, you probably haven’t had time to take a screenshot yet, right?”

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I had the worst luck in the world. During a live-streamed audition for a dating reality show, my dress was lifted by a gust of sea wind, exposing me to the entire internet. The screenshots went viral instantly. I was the laughingstock of the year. But that humiliating accident somehow “awakened” a paralyzed billionaire who hadn’t felt desire in years. His younger brother offered me eighty million dollars on the spot. The job? “Spend his birthday with him.” I signed the contract and became his private companion. Every day, I walked past him in high heels. He could look, but he couldn’t touch. But the one who went crazy first wasn’t him. It was his brother. 1 I swear I must have been cursed. My flashing incident was trending #1. As soon as my stilettos hit the red carpet, a gust of wind off the Pacific lifted my white skirt, Marilyn Monroe style, but without the grace. The producers didn’t cut the feed fast enough. The comments section exploded. “That innocent vibe is killer!” “Is she here to date or to commit a crime?” “Wife material!” I stood there frozen, the sound of shutters clicking like gunfire around me. I wanted to die. The worst part was, I didn’t even want to be there. I was filling in for my childhood best friend, Chloe. She had a fever and a swollen face, so she shoved me into the dangerous white dress. “Just stand there for me! You’re so conservative you radiate holy light. They definitely won’t pick you! Just do it!” I shouldn’t have listened to her. Three hours later, I was curled up on a deserted stretch of Malibu beach, burying my face in my knees. Last week, I got laid off. Yesterday, my boyfriend of seven years dumped me. He said I was as exciting as a dusty Bible in a convent, then slept with a girl he just met nineteen times in three days. And today, the whole world had seen my underwear. “Excuse me.” A gentle, unfamiliar male voice broke the silence. I looked up. A young man stood there in a crisp white shirt, smiling perfectly. “Hi, I’m Ethan Vance. I’d like to talk to you.” He pointed behind him. At the end of the wooden boardwalk, a silver-grey wheelchair sat in the shadows. The man in the wheelchair wore a dark black shirt. His features were sharp as a knife, his eyes cold as ice. But when his gaze landed on me, his pupils dilated—shock, delight, and a terrifying hint of… greed. Before I could refuse, Ethan ushered me into a black sedan. The leather seats smelled of expensive cologne. The wheelchair was folded in the trunk. The man, Sterling Vance, stared at me the whole ride. He looked like he was dissecting a struggling butterfly. Suddenly, he spoke. “I remember every angle of your skirt lifting.” My face burned. I reached for the door handle, but Ethan tossed a thick document onto my lap. Agreement for Psychological Stress-Induced Physiological Rehabilitation Companionship. 42 pages. It detailed everything: appear within his visual range daily, wear “elegant yet alluring” attire, maintain eye contact for no less than 20 seconds, provide physical comfort if necessary to stabilize mood, guide physiological recovery… “You want me to be a fluffer?” I laughed angrily. “A companion,” Ethan corrected softly. “Don’t misunderstand.” He wrote a check. Ten million dollars. One month. Until his brother’s birthday. As long as I “appeared as I did today,” he guaranteed Sterling wouldn’t touch me. Of course, supplementary agreements could be signed if needed. It sounded even more perverse. My phone buzzed. It was my dad’s assistant: “Miss Harper, the company’s funding chain broke. We’re short eighty million. Your dad is threatening to jump off the roof.” I closed my eyes and whispered, “I’ll sign. But I want eighty million.” “Eighty million? Miss, did you read the part where he won’t touch you under the basic agreement?” “Doesn’t that depend on my skills?” I shot back. “A woman elegant, charming, and innocent enough to make your brother lose control with a single look.” “Deal. Not just companionship. If you cure his physiological disorder, you get eighty million.” Ethan smiled. “Until July 14th, you are my brother’s… exclusive gift.” 2 When I officially moved into the Vance estate, I realized it wasn’t a house. It was a fortress. Face ID entry, sensor elevators, private security guards… Sterling lived on the top floor of the main wing. The whole space was sealed off like a palace. As the “Special Companion,” I lived one floor below him. So close, yet worlds apart. The most absurd part was the man who showed up at my door, claiming to be my training coach. “Hello, darling~” The man wore a pink polka-dot shirt and oversized red sunglasses. “I’m Wyatt. I’m here to turn you into a weapon of mass seduction.” I stared at his flamboyance, speechless. “…” “Today we start with Lesson One: Sexy Body Language!” Wyatt clicked a laser pointer at a PowerPoint presentation. “Topic: How to give a man heart palpitations without triggering a sexual harassment lawsuit while walking.” “This… this is too much…” I wanted to quit. “Quit and pay the breach of contract fee. Eighty million,” Wyatt sang, holding up eight fingers. “Come on, put on this dress and walk ten meters.” He tossed me a cream-colored lace dress. It was even more revealing than the one Chloe gave me. I changed, my hands trembling. Wyatt shouted from the hall, “Don’t walk too steady! Be like a willow in the wind… like you just finished a tango and want to collapse but can’t. Rebellious but weak.” I took a deep breath and walked from the end of the corridor, pinching the hem of the dress. But my heel slipped on the polished floor, and I nearly wiped out. “Stop!” Wyatt lunged forward. “You look like a drunk toddler, not a seductress!” “You do it then!” I snapped. “I teach, I don’t test. If I were a woman, you wouldn’t have this job.” As we argued, a soft whirring sound came from the other end of the hall. Sterling’s wheelchair stopped silently at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a dark grey shirt today, buttoned all the way up. His face was pale and ascetic. He stared at me without speaking, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests. I realized I was still wearing the “training dress.” My heart skipped a beat. “Walk again,” Sterling said suddenly, his voice raspy. I froze. “What?” “Those steps you just took.” His gaze locked onto my thigh, visible through the lace. “Do it again.” The air solidified for three seconds. Wyatt grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear, “Eighty million! Don’t forget the eighty million! Walk!” I gritted my teeth, went back to the end of the hall, turned, and walked toward him step by step. I looked up, trying to mimic the eye contact technique Wyatt taught me: Glance, look away, then look back with hesitation. Sterling watched me, his expression growing colder by the second. When I reached him, he suddenly said, “In the future, don’t look at me like that when you walk.” “You asked me to walk!” I laughed in disbelief. “Walking is allowed,” his eyes darkened. “Looking is not.” “What do you want from me?” I whispered. Sterling lowered his eyes, slowly turning his wheelchair around. His voice sounded like it was being dragged out of his chest. “People who play with fire… should be afraid of getting burned.” He left. His back was cold enough to freeze the air. Wyatt whispered in my ear, “Congrats. He’s showing symptoms.” “What symptoms?” “Physiological reaction!” He looked ready to dance. “Oh my god, I can see you counting cash in the Maldives already!” I rubbed my temples. “You certainly have sharp eyes.” I turned around and saw a glass of warm milk on the table. It was still steaming. I knew only Sterling had been there. 4 I didn’t tell anyone I dreamed about Sterling that night. In the dream, I was practicing the “seductive glance back” in the hallway. The lights were soft. I wore the cream lace dress, swaying towards him. When I looked back, I crashed right into his deep, dark eyes. He looked like he’d been electrocuted. His wheelchair slammed into the wall with a dull thud. I woke up covered in cold sweat, heart pounding. That morning, Wyatt took a leave of absence. I finally had a moment of peace to walk in the garden. The garden was the only place in the estate without cameras. I walked along the gravel path, silently rehearsing Wyatt’s instructions: Left foot light, right foot drags, show 30% ankle, don’t look back too fake… I muttered to myself, “I feel like a weirdo.” “You look like one, too.” A cool male voice cut in. I jumped, nearly tripping. Sterling had appeared out of nowhere. His wheelchair was parked by the colonnade. The wind ruffled his black clothes. He held a book but wasn’t reading. “Stalking me again?” I stepped back warily. “Your footsteps are too loud,” he said calmly. “I heard you.” “Seen enough?” “No.” He put the book down and slowly wheeled closer. “Continue.” My legs went weak. “I’m not acting anymore.” “You’re afraid of me?” He stopped, staring at me intently. “…No.” “Yes.” He seemed to read the twitch of my lips. “You’re afraid I’ll get close, and you’re afraid you’ll fall for me.” The words hit me like an arrow. “Are you crazy?” I blurted out. “Are you sick?” He didn’t get angry. He actually smiled faintly. “Indeed. My medical report says ‘Post-Traumatic Adaptation Disorder,’ with ‘deviated physiological response to stimuli’ in parentheses.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak. He suddenly reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. The gesture was gentle, like a lover’s touch. “Do you know what you smell like right now?” he whispered. “W-what?” “A trapped animal.” He enunciated each word. “You look like a little pet that wants to run but doesn’t know where to go.” My face burned. Before I could retort, a voice interrupted. “Brother, breakfast is ready.” Ethan stood on the stone steps, smiling innocently. “Harper, come join us? The chef made pumpkin gratin, your favorite.” I let out a breath and practically ran toward him. But Ethan leaned in and whispered, “Don’t be fooled by my brother’s serious face. He wasn’t always like this.” “What do you mean?” “He used to love sketching figures.” Ethan winked. “Realism. The kind where you measure proportions with your eyes.” I was speechless. “After the accident, he stopped talking. The doctors say… he might have suppressed it for too long. Who knows why he only reacts to you.” “You mean I’m like a switch?” “Maybe,” he sighed. “I’m just worried about you. You don’t know his state. He’s… deep.” I looked down at my shoes, feeling heavy. Of course I didn’t know Sterling Vance. The man with eyes full of forbidden fire… I couldn’t read him, and I didn’t dare to try. “If you want to quit this game,” Ethan patted my shoulder, “I’ll help you.” I looked at him. He stood in the sun, his smile as clean as spring water. I turned back to the colonnade. Sterling was gone. The sunlight hit the tire tracks he left behind, looking like a path leading into an abyss.

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On New Year’s Eve, my fiancée’s ex posted a photo online showing her with wine spilled on her dress, along with the caption: “Her trembling was the prize of the night.” My hands shook as I called Elara. After a long silence, she answered, breathless. “Sean… I was drugged. Aiden helped me. But I’m still clean for you.” I tried to believe it was just a terrible accident. Three months later, at our wedding, Elara threw a positive pregnancy test at my feet. “It only happened once,” she said, “but you can still be this child’s father.” I laughed coldly. “Get rid of it, or get out of my life.” As I walked away, I took out my phone. “I accept the marriage proposal to Gudenrath Corp.” [1] The Gudenrath family moved with ruthless efficiency. Two hours later, Seraphina Gudenrath and I were officially married, her dowry a portfolio worth two hundred million dollars. She signed the papers and immediately flew to an international conference. I stood there, holding our marriage certificate, feeling dazed. Five years of my life, all for a betrayal so complete it felt like a dream. My phone buzzed relentlessly in my pocket. I sighed and finally answered. “Sean, aren’t you always the most understanding person? I’m having a baby. Shouldn’t you be happy?” “I swear to you, you will be the only father this child has.” Elara’s voice was urgent, but there was no trace of apology in it. “Right. I understand,” I replied, my voice flat. “Is there anything else?” There was a moment of silence on her end, and I could faintly hear the sound of a man’s suppressed sobs in the background. She must have realized my calm was unnatural. Her tone softened. “Why don’t you come home first?” “Aiden is emotionally unstable right now. He just keeps crying. I can’t just leave him.” “There’s no need,” I cut her off. Her voice instantly turned to ice. “Sean Croft! What is your problem?” “Aiden was kind enough to help me, and you publicly humiliated him! Isn’t that enough for you? What more do you want?” My heart clenched, a sharp, stabbing pain. I suppressed the turmoil rising in my chest and said, word by word, “Elara, we’re over.” The air seemed to freeze. Her breath hitched, and then she exploded. “Are you insane?” “I got pregnant, that’s all! It’s not like I’m refusing to marry you! Why are you being so aggressive?” I let out a self-deprecating laugh but didn’t answer. Her patience ran out. “Fine! Be that way!” she spat. “Don’t come crying back to me later!” The line went dead. [2] I didn’t go home. I drove to the old Morris estate. Even though Elara had been unfaithful, her parents had always been kind to me. It was only right to end things with them face-to-face. But as I pushed open the grand doors, the scene inside plunged me into an icy abyss. Elara was sitting with her parents, Aiden’s arm linked with hers. She carefully ladled soup for him, even bringing the spoon to his lips with a tenderness in her eyes I hadn’t seen in years. Her mother watched them with a pleased smile. “Look at you two,” she teased her husband. “About to be parents and still acting like newlyweds.” A perfect, happy family of four. I had once dreamed of a moment like that. In the past, when I would put food on her plate, she would smile sweetly and say, “Thank you, darling,” only to discard anything I had touched the moment I looked away. She was the cherished only daughter of the Morris family, an untouchable flower on a high peak. She even flinched away from my kisses. And now, she was pregnant with Aiden’s child, doting on him like a loving wife. Elara caught sight of me from the corner of her eye and sneered. “I knew it. Impossible to shake him off.” Her father cleared his throat, trying to smooth things over. “You’re here. Come, sit and eat. Elara’s pregnant. Don’t upset her.” I stared at them, numb. “No, thank you.” Aiden spoke to the maid with an air of familiarity. “Sean, you should have called ahead. The staff didn’t set an extra place for you.” His hair was perfectly styled, his clothes expensive. He looked nothing like the down-on-his-luck intern from three months ago. Clearly, life at the Morris estate suited him. I ignored him and handed the gift I’d brought to the butler. “Stop right there!” Elara slammed her hand on the table, her face dark with rage. “Didn’t you hear Aiden speaking to you? Don’t you even have the decency to say thank you? You have no manners at all!” I turned slowly, a cold smile spreading across my face. “Thank him for what?” “Thank him for knocking up my fiancée and making me a cuckold? Or should I flip this table and scream at him in front of your parents for being a shameless homewrecker?” Elara’s face flushed, and she covered her mouth, gagging. Aiden patted her back, his voice choked with emotion. “Elara, are you okay?” He turned to me, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Sean, it’s all my fault. Please don’t upset her anymore.” “I’m only staying here because I’m worried about the baby. I’ll leave as soon as it’s born, I swear! I won’t get in your way!” He then placed a hand on Elara’s stomach and began to sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Daddy loves you, and he doesn’t want to abandon you, but Daddy did a bad thing. Our family was never meant to be.” “As long as you and Mommy are happy, I’ll do anything.” With that, he collapsed, crying, into Elara’s arms. Her mother had seen enough. She threw down her chopsticks and pointed a trembling finger at me. “How dare you! It’s just a child! How can you be so petty? You are not fit to be a son-in-law to this family!” Any last shred of guilt Elara might have felt evaporated. She glared at me with pure hatred. “You ungrateful bastard!” I let out a cold laugh and turned to leave. My indifference seemed to enrage her further. With a wild scream, she grabbed the nearest bowl and hurled it at my head. A searing pain exploded in the back of my skull. Warm liquid trickled through my hair. My vision went black, and I collapsed. [3] My head was ringing, the sharp pain spreading like a tidal wave. I forced myself to my feet. Aiden rushed over, his voice dripping with false concern. “Sean, are you okay? My sister is pregnant, she’s so weak. How could you pretend to faint like that?” “Get away from me,” I said coldly, not even bothering to raise a hand to him. But he suddenly let out an exaggerated gasp and stumbled backward, crashing heavily into the coffee table. “Ah! Sean, I was just trying to help you…” he whimpered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes welled up. Elara panicked, rushing to his side. She turned on me, her eyes blazing. “Sean, are you insane? How dare you touch him!” Her parents looked on with disgust, as if I were something vile. “He fell on his own!” I choked out, the words catching in my throat. Elara’s eyes were merciless. She slapped me hard across the face. “Still lying! Get to the family chapel and kneel. Don’t even think about coming out until you’ve begged for forgiveness nine hundred times!” Before I could protest, two security guards stormed in, roughly bound my hands and feet, and dragged me away. I thrashed on the floor, screaming, “Let me go!” Her only reply was a cold command: “Reflect on what you’ve done!” The heavy doors slammed shut, plunging me into silence. I struggled desperately, the rough rope cutting into my wrists, my skin scraping raw against the stone floor. Finally, exhausted, I slumped onto the icy ground, a bitter sting in my nose. Through the door, I could hear their voices clearly. “Elara, isn’t this a little too harsh? He’s still your fiancé, after all.” “You’re too kind, Aiden. After how he treated you, you’re still defending him.” Elara’s voice was sharp with disdain. “If I don’t teach him a lesson and curb that temper of his, how is he supposed to take care of our child?” Aiden hesitated. “Sister, are you doing this because you don’t like him? Then why are you still marrying him?” Sudden silence. I held my breath, my heart pounding, desperate to hear her answer. If she hated me this much, why wouldn’t she let me go? After a moment, Elara let out a small laugh, her voice turning frigid. “It’s for the Croft family resources, of course. They’ve been very useful over the years.” “Marrying him is the only way to get full control of Croft Industries. Why else would I tie myself to such a useless piece of trash?” The truth was a razor-sharp knife, plunging straight into my heart. My blood ran cold. So that was it. She had never loved me. She only ever wanted my family’s name and power. In a daze, I remembered the car crash five years ago, when I had been severely injured while saving her. She had knelt by my hospital bed and sworn she would never marry anyone else. Even when the doctors told us I could no longer have children, she had just cried and said, “It doesn’t matter. Without children, I can love only you with my whole heart.” How pathetic. I had actually believed her clumsy lies. I had pulled every string I could, used every Croft connection to pave her way to success. And all along, she had been playing me for a fool. There is no greater sorrow than a dead heart. A despair colder than the stone floor settled over me, and I drifted into a fitful sleep. The chapel doors didn’t open until the next day. I was curled in a ball, my lips blue from the cold. Elara frowned at my pathetic state. “Useless waste. You kneel for one night and you look like this. How pathetic.” I slowly looked up, a grim smile on my face. “Sorry to disappoint you.” She looked away in disgust. “Aiden wants seafood congee. Go make it for him. And remember, no ginger. He doesn’t like it.” My nails dug into my palms, but I felt nothing. I forced the words through my teeth. “And what if I don’t?” [4] A dangerous glint appeared in Elara’s eyes. She suddenly kicked me hard in the chest. “Do you really think you’re the young master here? If it weren’t for Aiden, you would never have a child in your life! You should be on your knees thanking him, and you have the nerve to refuse to cook him a meal?” The feeling of bone cracking sent a wave of blackness over my vision. I coughed, spitting up a mouthful of blood. I wiped my mouth and slowly pushed myself up. “Elara, we’re done.” “You have no right to order me around.” A cold draft swept through the chapel. She stared at me for a second, then scoffed. “Are you trying to play hard to get? Don’t you find that disgusting?” Aiden appeared at her side, draping a coat over her shoulders. “Elara,” he whispered, “don’t get upset with him on my account. It’s not good for the baby. I just won’t eat. A lowly person like me doesn’t deserve to have Sean cook for him anyway.” He was wearing my silk pajamas, his chest covered in love bites. His eyes were full of triumphant provocation. But I no longer cared. “Move. You’re in my way,” I said, my voice distant. Elara suddenly grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin and drawing blood. “You’re not going anywhere without my permission!” she shrieked. I yanked my arm free. “Ah!” The momentum sent her staggering backward, and she collapsed onto the floor. “You animal!” Her parents came running at the sound. Her mother cradled her pale-faced daughter while her father swung a fist at my face. I couldn’t dodge in time and took the full force of the blow. The taste of rust filled my mouth. Aiden wrapped his arms around Elara, his voice trembling. “It’s all my fault. If I weren’t here, you two wouldn’t be fighting.” He looked at me, his eyes brimming with tears. “Sean, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Please, just don’t hurt Elara and the baby…” Elara clutched her stomach, her eyes bloodshot. “Sean! Aiden went through so much to get me pregnant with this child! If anything happens to my baby, I’ll kill you!” Her father flew into an even greater rage. He grabbed me by the neck and slammed me onto the altar. The candlesticks toppled over, hot wax splashing across my back and instantly raising a swath of angry red welts. I arched my back, gagging, but only managed to spit up more blood. The marriage certificate slipped from my jacket pocket, its bright red cover a startling contrast against the grey stone floor. When she saw the names on it, Elara’s face changed, her arrogance vanishing. “You… to spite me, you actually married someone else?” she stammered in disbelief. I struggled to my feet, using the wall for support, and met her eyes again. “I gave you a choice.” In the dead silence of the room, Elara screamed, “That’s impossible! This has to be a fake! Who else would marry a defective man like you?” Just as the words left her mouth, a cool, clear female voice cut through the air. “I would.” Everyone turned. There, standing silhouetted against the light, was Seraphina Gudenrath, dressed in a stunning red gown.

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On the eve of the New Year, a firework dart, tipped with barbs, pierced my shoulder and lodged itself in my body. Before they could rush me into surgery, the doctor looked at the two men who had hurried in with me and asked for a family member to sign the consent forms. Both of them lunged for the pen, nearly coming to blows. One was my husband. The other was my brother. “I’ll sign,” my husband, Scott, said, “but only if you agree to a sham divorce first. Willow was terrified tonight. A divorce certificate will calm her down.” “Sign it or don’t. I’ll do it,” my brother, Chris, snapped back. “Fine,” Scott retorted, “but you have to promise that when Evelyn wakes up, she won’t press charges over the arrow. It was just a girl who couldn’t handle being yelled at. She didn’t mean to do it.” A weak, bitter laugh escaped my lips. With the last of my strength, I motioned the doctor closer. “Don’t save me.” Whether I lived or died… it didn’t matter anymore. … The argument in front of the emergency room doors raged on, but it wasn’t about who should sign as next of kin. It wasn’t about the fact that I was in critical condition and needed immediate surgery. Scott Vance and Chris Shay stood on either side of my gurney, each man blocking one of the wheels, preventing it from moving forward. We were inches from the operating room, but it might as well have been a world away. The arrow, armed with five barbed hooks at its tip, had entered through my right shoulder and traveled horizontally across my body. The tip was now resting perilously close to my heart on the left side. The doctor was sweating profusely, knowing better than anyone what every passing second meant for me. He tried to intervene, but a single glare from the two of them silenced him. This was the Vance family’s hospital, after all. No one would dare overstep. In his hand, Scott held a divorce agreement. In his, Chris held a legal waiver, a promise not to press charges. Each man was desperate to shove his pen into my still-conscious hand, competing to see who could get my signature first. They were eager to run back and report their success to the “traumatized” little girl, Willow. Staring at the two documents shoved in my face, I managed a breathless smile. I asked them a completely nonsensical question. “Tonight, you threw a party for Willow to celebrate 148 days since you met her. Why… why did it have to be today?” A day earlier, a day later—it would have been just another meaningless number to them. So why today? With the arrow still inside me, every word was an agony. But I was deceiving myself. One last gamble. Just one more. Maybe one of them would remember what today was. Scott remained silent. Chris’s fist tightened and relaxed at his side, his impatience a palpable force. “We just wanted to make Willow happy. It’s that simple. Can you stop wasting time? What’s the point of this?” The raucous laughter from that party, the blinding colored lights, the adoring smiles on my husband’s and my brother’s faces—that was the fuse that had lit my rage. I had crashed the party, shattering the joyful atmosphere. Everyone had called me a lunatic. Scott and Chris had shielded Willow behind them. “If you’re going to be crazy, go do it at home! Don’t embarrass us here!” I had looked only at Willow’s triumphant face. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You’re disgusting.” In front of the two men, her expression shifted seamlessly into one of profound sorrow. “Why… why does my sister have to say such cruel things to me? Is it so wrong to want to be with the people I love?” The two men she had just claimed as her own blushed. “I thought I finally had a family! Why does she still hate me so much? Why?” And then, under the guise of an emotional breakdown, she had fired the firework dart at me. Even as the arrow pierced my flesh, Scott had pinned my arms down, terrified I would lash out and hurt his precious darling. He had stared at me, his eyes filled with a deep, chilling disappointment. “Why?” he’d asked. “How did you become this person? You’re vile.” As they were loading me onto the stretcher, Willow had insisted on seeing me. She had leaned in close, her voice a triumphant whisper in my ear. “Sister, you know what today is, don’t you? I’m celebrating for you. It’s the one-year anniversary of your and Scott’s baby’s death. Too bad they don’t remember. Only I do. You should thank me, really.” Unable to lift my hands, I had lunged forward and bitten her ear. For that, Scott had nearly crushed my jaw. And now, it was the reason they both felt so justified in forcing these papers on me. I deserved this. It’s almost funny. Willow, my long-lost twin sister, had only recently been found. Snatched at birth by an enemy of the family, our parents had spent their lives searching for her. That unresolved grief had ultimately led to their early deaths. On their deathbeds, they had made my brother and me swear an oath. If we ever found her, we would spend our lives making it up to her. And I had intended to. When we found Willow, I believed she had suffered too much. I was ready to give her everything. But from the moment she saw me, she was hostile. At first, Scott noticed it. Whenever I tried to bring him to my family home, he would resist, needing to be coaxed and placated. When he saw Willow, he wouldn’t even spare her a glance. “Babe,” he’d say, “I’m not going to be nice to someone who isn’t nice to my girl.” Chris was always caught in the middle, awkwardly trying to smooth things over. But somewhere along the line, it had changed. “Evelyn,” Scott had said one day, “Chris and I are taking Willow to Disneyland for a few days. You’ve been so many times, why don’t you just stay home? You know how sensitive she is. She thinks you don’t like her. Maybe you’ve been too harsh. She won’t have any fun if you’re there. Chris feels the same way, he was just afraid you’d be upset, so he asked me to tell you.” Then later: “I don’t understand you. This should be a happy thing, having your sister back, but you act like you wish she’d never been found. If Willow hadn’t told me, I would never have known you were bullying her in private, telling her to go back where she came from. I’m leaving. You need to think about what you’ve done.” He had left, his eyes filled with disappointment. I had held my tongue. I didn’t demand a confrontation, didn’t ask when, exactly, I had ever bullied her. Let it go, I told myself. Don’t ruin the mood. Just endure it. I remembered the oath my parents had made me take alone. Your sister has suffered. You’ve had twenty more years of happiness than she has. You have to be good to her. Otherwise, we’ll never forgive you, even in heaven. So I let her have her way. Until the day I found her in bed with Scott. The blood rushed to my head, and the world spun. I was blind with rage. I slapped her. In return, I received a slap from Scott, and another from Chris, who had rushed in after me. Chris was furious. “Willow told me you were tormenting her behind my back, forbidding her from getting close to me. I didn’t believe her. I guess you’re finally showing your true colors. She suffered for over twenty years, and when she finally comes home, she has to deal with a sister like you. Evelyn, do you think Mom and Dad are proud of you right now? If I could choose, I’d wish it was you who was taken all those years ago!” I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face. Scott held Willow, comforting her gently. He glanced at my tears, his expression cold. “Stop crying. Willow isn’t crying, so why should you? It’s not surprising that I fell for her. She’s a wonderful person. What you and I had was just a product of growing up together, an illusion. If you were the one who was taken and then returned, I would never have fallen for someone so vile. So don’t blame Willow. It’s not her fault. I should be grateful I’ve finally seen who you really are.” Looking at the victorious glint in Willow’s eyes, I suddenly understood. She didn’t love Scott or Chris. She just hated me. She hated that she was the one who was taken, that I had enjoyed a life of privilege she was denied. My pain was her pleasure. And the guilt the world felt for her was her ultimate weapon. I didn’t even have the right to fight back. And so, on that day, I lost my husband and my brother. If it weren’t for tonight, I probably would never have seen them fight over me again. Once, they fought over who got to spend time with me. Now, they fought over which paper I should sign first so they could run back and comfort Willow. At that moment, both of their phones rang simultaneously. “Scott… Chris…” It was Willow, her voice choked with tears. “I’m so scared. The blood… it got all over me, and I can’t wash it off…” “When they were putting my sister on the stretcher, I wanted to come with you, but… but she said that as soon as she’s okay, she’s going to kill me. What do I do? I really didn’t mean it. I’m so worried about her…” She sobbed and whimpered, then forced a brave tone for the two men on the other end, who were no doubt dying to fly back to her side. “Sometimes I think my sister is so lucky. She has both of you caring about her so much. I have nothing. And any little thing I do get, she forces me to give it back.” “It’s okay, you don’t have to rush back. I’ll be fine on my own…” “I’m going to go find a hundred of those firework darts, the kind I accidentally hurt her with. She said when she gets better, she wants to shoot all of them at me. As long as it makes her feel better, I’ll do anything.” By the time the call ended, Scott’s and Chris’s faces were black with rage. Chris was the first to snap. He suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his hands around my neck. “Why? Why are you like this?” he hissed, his face contorted. “Why can’t you just accept her? It was an accident! A hundred arrows? Are you trying to kill her? Evelyn, how could you be my sister? How could our family produce someone so rotten?!” The pressure was immense. His movement jostled the arrow inside me. The barbs and hooks twisted in my flesh. It probably wasn’t a normal firework dart at all. I choked, spitting up blood. Scott finally intervened, grabbing Chris’s arm. “Calm down. Are you trying to kill her?” My heart, already turned to ash, flickered with a faint, secret hope. Maybe… maybe he couldn’t bear to see me die. “If you kill her now, who’s going to sign the papers?” Scott continued, his voice cold. “Are you going to forget about comforting Willow? If Evelyn dies now, Willow will blame herself for the rest of her life. Do you want her to live with that shadow forever?” Once Chris was pacified, Scott finally spared me a glance. I was still coughing up blood, the crimson staining half my face. The gurgling in my throat made it impossible to breathe without triggering another agonizing movement of the arrow. He frowned, his tone chilling. “That’s enough. Stop the act. Do you have a blood pack hidden in your mouth? I was with Willow when she chose those fireworks. They’re soft and thin. She’s a kind girl; she specifically had them custom-made so they wouldn’t hurt anyone. The impact must have just pushed it into your shoulder. It’s a flesh wound, nothing more. There’s no need to be so dramatic. Chris and I aren’t idiots.” I froze, even forgetting to cough. He mistook my shock for being caught in a lie. He sighed. For the first time since I’d caught him with Willow, he spoke to me in a gentle, coaxing tone. “Alright, this is just a temporary divorce to appease Willow. Sign the papers, and after you do, Chris and I promise we’ll take you to Sunhaven for a few days, just like you wanted.” With a nod from Scott, Chris reluctantly agreed. When I finally spoke, my voice was a raw, rasping sound, filled with utter despair. “You think… you think we were going to Sunhaven… for a vacation?” I thought if they remembered Sunhaven, they would remember why I had been begging them to go with me. They would remember why the sight of their smiling faces at that party had made me snap. Our daughter, Rosie, had been born frail and sickly. She couldn’t tolerate the cold. Sunhaven was warm year-round. In the three years of her life, we had spent more than half our time there. In the end, she hadn’t made it. She had left us, and I had cried until I fainted, over and over again. We decided to bury her in Sunhaven. At her grave, both Scott and Chris had wept and sworn they would come back every year on the anniversary of her death to be with her. 148 days. A laughable 148 days. And on the first anniversary of her death, they had forgotten everything. When a heart dies, there’s nothing left to say, nothing left to ask. I let out a long breath. I didn’t want to see them anymore. Let them leave. Words were useless now. I slowly raised my hand. “I’ll sign both.” Chris, barely concealing his excitement, shoved the pen into my hand. My left hand was the only part of me with any feeling left, and I signed slowly. But just as I was about to complete the last stroke of my name, I felt the barbs inside me begin to spin violently. The pen clattered to the floor. The pain was so intense that my body began to convulse. A spray of blood erupted from my mouth, covering both agreements, obscuring the text completely. Scott and Chris stared, stunned. Chris was the first to react. “Damn it! You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You ruined the papers just to spite us!” He raised his hand to strike me again. Just then, his phone rang. It was Willow. “Scott! Chris! Help me! A group of men… they have me cornered in an alley! They said… they said my sister sent them to teach me a lesson…” Panic seized them both. Even Scott, who had maintained a sliver of composure, let out a curse and kicked my gurney over. “So this was your plan all along! Wasting time so they could get to her!” “Evelyn Shay, if anything happens to Willow, I will make you pay with your life!” He turned to the hospital staff. “Tell everyone, let her lie here and play her games. She likes bleeding, right? For every cut anyone makes on her, I’ll pay a million dollars. But if anyone dares to treat her or bandage her wounds, they’ll have to answer to both the Vance and the Shay families!”

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I often drive my car and wait outside the women’s prison for women who have just been released. Those who have no friends or family to pick them up, and who aren’t bad-looking, are my prey. Just a little kindness, and they throw themselves into my arms like they’ve grabbed a life-saving straw. 1 A woman stood at the gate of the women’s prison. Fair skin, exquisite face. Even plain clothes couldn’t hide her graceful curves. Through the car window, my eyes greedily scanned her body. A gust of cold wind blew, and the woman hunched her shoulders like a quail. A ball of heat suddenly erupted in my lower abdomen. I hesitated no longer, started the car, and drove up to her. Rolling down the window, I revealed a standard smile. “Hello, I’m a volunteer dedicated to helping people released from prison reintegrate into society.” “Do you need any help?” I handed over a business card with my name printed on a red heart. Social Welfare Volunteer: Sean Carter. The woman took the card, her guarded expression fading considerably. She hesitated for a moment, then opened the car door and got in. A scent of body fragrance mixed with laundry detergent hit my face, making me restless inside. The fish has taken the bait. 2 Chatting along the way, I learned the woman’s name. Harper Stone, 24 years old. Sentenced to five years for acting as a guarantor for someone. I sneered inwardly, confirming my guess. Women with such good looks usually go in for fraud or guaranteeing for others. After release, parents cut ties, friends and relatives stay away. Long-term prison life disconnects them from society, leaving them in a state of confusion and loss. I am the only person showing kindness to her, and also a life-saving straw. That’s why she got into my car so easily. Such women are easily conquered with just a little kindness. Harper is the fourth woman to get into my car, and the most beautiful one I’ve ever picked up. Thinking of how she would look in bed, I felt like ants were crawling all over my body, itching unbearably. Harper didn’t talk much. When I made some witty jokes, she would cover her mouth and smile at me. Her large, watery eyes held a clarity isolated from the world. I parked the car in front of a restaurant and treated Harper to a meal. Standard Southern cuisine, costing less than a hundred bucks for two. Harper ate very slowly and carefully. If any food accidentally fell on the table, she would pick it up and put it in her mouth. I lit a cigarette and watched her with a smile. Basically, the first meal for everyone just out of prison is like this. Only after being in prison do you know how precious life outside is. Therefore, these women basically don’t want to go back in after getting out. Based on this, even if I use rough methods, they won’t think of calling the police. After eating, it was already dark. I invited Harper to stay at my place for the night and continue helping her get familiar with the social environment tomorrow. Harper agreed. 3 I live in Spring Garden. Although the name is poetic, it is an old resettlement community. But for Harper, this is already a good environment. In fact, putting aside the fake identity of a social welfare volunteer, I am trash at the bottom of society. No money, too lazy to work, the only valuable thing on me is that broken car about my age. Not tall, not handsome. Someone like me struggles even to find a girlfriend. But through this path, I can sleep with many women with good looks and figures. If Harper hadn’t been to prison, I believe she wouldn’t even look at me on the street. But now she not only got into my broken car but also followed me back to this old rental. I have ways to make her actively climb into my bed, and even make her wag her tail and beg for mercy like a bitch. 4 The corridor was dirty and dim, with old sensor lights emitting a faint yellow glow. Just as I was about to open the door to my rental, a dark shadow lunged at Harper from the corner. Harper screamed, her pant leg torn to shreds by a brown poodle. She hid behind me. I kicked the poodle away, shouting to drive it off. The poodle wasn’t afraid of me at all; instead, it bared its teeth and barked at me. Heavy footsteps sounded, and an old woman with noodle-like hair rushed up from downstairs in a few steps. Her triangular eyes glanced at me, and she opened her scarlet lips to curse: “Dare to kick my son? Believe it or not, I’ll make you get out right now?” The woman’s name is Brenda, my landlady. I dare not contradict her. If I leave here, I can’t find a cheaper place. With a smile on my face, I apologized to her. “Brenda, I wouldn’t dare kick your Coco.” “It’s just better if you keep it locked up, otherwise it wouldn’t be good if it bites someone…” Brenda pointed at me, interrupting my words with spittle flying. “If it bites someone, I’ll pay!” “If you dare touch a hair on my precious son, I’ll take your life!” Her eyes rolled over Harper, and she spat fiercely on the ground. “Don’t bring such shady women back in the future. I’m afraid of dirtying my house.” “Looks like a slut…” Brenda hugged Coco into her arms and walked away twisting her hips. I smiled apologetically at Harper and led her into the room. Although this community is dilapidated, I put some effort into the room. Wallpapered, installed ambient lights, and laid carpets on the floor. I found a set of pajamas for Harper and pointed to another room. “You go take a shower first to wash away the bad luck. Sleep there tonight.” Harper thanked me and went into the bathroom with the clothes. I lit scented candles, dimmed the lights, turned on the speaker, and played a lyrical English song. Poured two glasses of champagne, quietly waiting for Harper to come out. Being human means having needs. After staying in prison for so long, many women have no resistance to this atmosphere. In a tipsy state, they will soon throw themselves into my arms. This trick has never failed me, and I believe it will be the same for Harper. Soon, the bathroom door opened. Harper, fresh from the shower, made my eyes straighten. This set of pajamas was carefully selected by me. Fitting, silky, perfectly showing off Harper’s wonderful curves. Under the dim light, her skin was still dazzlingly white. Harper sat next to me, smiling shyly at me. Scented candles, shampoo, mixed with Harper’s unique scent, made my whole person almost burn. I raised my glass to her: “Congratulations on your upcoming brand new life!” Harper’s eyes were sparkling, and she drank the wine in the glass in one gulp. After three rounds of drinks, I found the right opportunity and slowly moved closer to Harper. The moment our arm skin touched, I trembled all over. I reached out and hugged Harper’s shoulder, looked into her eyes, and slowly pressed my lips towards hers. But I didn’t expect Harper to push me away. Her cheeks were flushed, covering her face and running into the room. I cursed inwardly and punched the sofa hard. At night, lying in bed, I couldn’t sleep. Harper’s face, figure, and scent were like a slide show, constantly looping in my mind. This dish, Harper, with all its color, aroma, and taste, I must taste it thoroughly.

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I always thought my movie star husband treated our marriage more as a responsibility than a romance. He was steady, quiet, and never whispered sweet nothings to me. Until one late night, I was scrolling through Reddit and saw a “whiny husband” post getting roasted for hundreds of comments. I clicked on the profile— Wait, isn’t that profile picture our cat? 1 [I feel like my cat is manipulative. What do I do?] [My wife is a software engineer, and I’m somewhat of a freelancer. We have a cat. Because my wife is a programmer, her salary is very high, and she’s busy and works overtime a lot. As soon as she gets home, the cat clings to her, and my wife only pets the cat and ignores me. During the day, the cat just sleeps all day, but the moment my wife gets off work, it perks up. My wife is a programmer; she’s incredibly smart and kind, so she can’t see through the cat’s schemes.] When I stumbled upon this hot post in the Relationship Advice subreddit, I felt my brain cells expanding. This guy is crazy. Getting jealous of a cat? I glanced across the living room at Liam Thorne, who was currently holding our cat and brushing its fur. I thought to myself, My Liam is still the best. Although he’s usually cool and distant, for day-to-day life, this is actually quite nice. I continued scrolling down the post. Sure enough, the OP (Original Poster) was being roasted in hundreds of comments. And his replies were even funnier than the original post. 2 [Why emphasize that she’s a programmer?] [OP’s Reply: I didn’t mean to emphasize it, I’m just sensitive. I studied abroad when I was young and later went to art school, but my wife is a programmer at a Big Tech company, and she was the top scorer in her state for the SATs that year. Even though my education isn’t as good as my wife’s, she definitely still loves me more than the cat. This psychological gap just makes it inevitable that the cat feels a bit hostile towards me.] The OP’s wife really sounds like me, but our husbands’ personalities are worlds apart. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of schadenfreude. [Big Tech… programmer…? Unless you say your wife is a C-suite executive at Google, I can maybe slightly understand your overflowing superiority complex.] [OP’s Reply: My wife is an Algorithm Engineer.] What’s wrong with being an Algorithm Engineer? I am one. Doesn’t change the fact that I code overtime every day. But hey, us code monkeys are moving up in the world if whiny husbands are clinging to us now. I laughed out loud reading this. [It is well known that intelligence is not sexually transmitted.] [OP’s Reply: But we’re married. I knew before posting that people on Reddit would be jealous of me, but reality is reality. This is human nature.] This OP is truly invincible. I laughed until I was dizzy, preparing to turn off my phone and sleep. Before closing it, I habitually clicked on the OP’s profile picture for a look. But with just this one look, I completely froze. —Why does this cat look exactly like my cat, C++? 3 Liam and I met through a mutual friend. I’m a programmer; he’s an A-list movie star. Logically, our paths should never have crossed. But rumor had it his family was forcing him to marry at the time, so I lucked out. You know how it is when there’s an inheritance involved. After getting the marriage certificate, I very consciously told Liam that we absolutely didn’t need to go public. His career came first. Because of this, his agent, Claire, has always been very warm towards me. Although my movie star husband is usually cool and distant, I’m no longer a little girl chasing sweet romance. For a corporate slave exhausted in body and mind every day, Liam is simply the perfect husband. He has a face so handsome it angers the gods, and a body with pecs and abs that are top-tier. I can eat an extra bowl of rice just looking at his face when I get home from overtime. Not to mention he’s a neat freak and dislikes outsiders, so he handles almost all the housework alone. Before marriage, I often ate irregularly due to work pressure. After marriage, all that was fixed, and I even lost less hair. Liam is perfect, except for sometimes being a bit too much for me to handle in bed. As for being cold and quiet towards me, that’s barely an issue. But I absolutely, one hundred percent do not believe he would go on Reddit and post those “whiny husband” comments. Did I recognize the wrong cat? 4 I wanted to find more clues from that account’s profile, but Liam, fresh from the shower, got into bed. “Honey, slow down… my waist from sitting all day can’t compare to your daily workouts… mmm…” When I’m enjoying it, I often call out “Honey” and “Baby” randomly, but Liam is different. He never says anything in bed, only occasional low pants. I used to suspect if, in Liam’s eyes, this was just a marital duty he had to fulfill? Later, I stopped thinking about it. After all, it’s not like I wasn’t enjoying myself. Worthy of being the man consistently ranked number one on the “Must-Sleep Male Actors” list. After it was over, I was basically delirious. In a daze, I heard Liam say that Lucas wanted to visit tomorrow and asked if I was okay with it. Lucas is the friend who introduced us. Without thinking, I said, “Sure, come over. I probably won’t be working overtime tomorrow.” Liam paused noticeably, then nodded expressionlessly. For some reason, I thought of that Reddit post again. Although I completely didn’t think the OP was Liam, I still subconsciously hugged his waist and buried my head in his chest. “I saw videos online of influencers filming skits about getting jealous of their pets… luckily you’re not like that.” “But even though I really like our C++, it’s different from how I like you.” “I like you the most.” Liam stroked my hair rhythmically but didn’t say a word. I sighed in relief, but my heart didn’t feel as light as I expected. But that’s how it is. Liam isn’t the type to care about these things. Love or whatever, Liam has seen so much in the entertainment industry. Didn’t he marry me just for stability?

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After getting back together with my stepbrother, I stopped pushing to go public. Our nights were a catalogue of secrets and desperate, frantic pleasure; our days, a perfectly scripted show of sibling affection. He’d rub my hair, a small, smug smile playing on his lips. “See? If you’d been this compliant earlier, we never would’ve broken up.” “Our relationship will always be under wraps, but as long as you don’t make a scene, we’ll never have to end it.” I’d just nod, docile and agreeable. Later, my mother, Eliza, asked me to help Bradon pick out an engagement prospect. I pointed to the photograph of the one with the most conventionally innocent, ‘Golden Girl’ look. “That one,” I said. “Bradon will probably like a clean slate.” Bradon Reid walked in just as my mother, beaming, was telling him about the choices. He didn’t seem to register her words. His smile froze, piece by piece, as he looked at me. He met my placid, obedient gaze, his eyes narrowing in a silent, chilling threat. “Are you absolutely sure you want me to meet her?” I kept my smile soft and compliant. “Mom has excellent taste. She introduced me to some men too, you know.” “You should go, Bradon. Give her a chance.” He was right. Our relationship could never stand in the light. So, I decided to exchange him for someone who could. 1 That night, my mother was asleep just on the other side of the wall. Bradon’s arm wrapped around me from behind, cutting off my breath. His voice sounded scraped raw. “Anya Wells, what was that stunt this afternoon?” “When did Mom introduce you to anyone? How long have you been talking?” I didn’t answer right away. My mother wasn’t the type to act without permission. Just as she’d consulted me before handing out contact information, she must have asked Bradon before compiling a list of potential brides. He had given his consent, yet now he had the nerve to corner me and demand answers? He insisted on forcing a response, his movements rough and impatient. With Mom next door, I didn’t want him to completely lose control. I clung to his shoulder and murmured, “It was just to placate her.” His brow softened slightly, but the darkness in his eyes remained. He flipped us over, clutching my waist, dragging me into the predictable oblivion. Mindful of my mother, we finished quickly, without lingering. The moment we were done, his phone screen lit up. The name displayed was sickeningly familiar: Rebecca King. —His oldest friend. The reason for our last breakup. Once, seeing those two words would have sent me into a blind panic. I wouldn’t let him lend her a jacket. I’d forbid him from taking her video calls. I’d never permit them to meet privately. What did he say back then? “Anya, we are the secret. She’s innocent. Don’t assume everyone is as messed up as we are.” Now, he almost instinctively hung up the call. His voice held a trace of urgency. “Anya, I explained everything to her. She won’t come between us again.” I simply curved my lips into a gentle smile, showing an almost charitable understanding. “It’s fine, you guys talk. I’ll take a shower.” My wrist was suddenly seized. His voice was thick and grating. “I only love you. I only do this with you.” “I’m your boyfriend. You can scream at me, fight me, but why… why don’t you care anymore?” That’s the sick irony of men, isn’t it? They despise your drama until your sudden silence becomes their biggest fear. Exhausted, physically and mentally, I pulled my hand free. “Stop it, Knox Dalton.” The name slipped out before I could stop it. His eyes immediately flared crimson, his voice ringing with disbelief. “Knox Dalton? Who the hell is Knox Dalton?” 2 Bradon was losing control, desperately clinging to a name. “I misspoke.” I turned my face away. He didn’t believe me, reaching for my phone. I frowned and smacked his hand away. “If you have a cuckold fantasy, go see a therapist. I’m not here to manage your twisted needs.” Too weary to argue, I shoved him away and headed to the bathroom. When I emerged, I was dressed and ready to go out. He saw the effort I’d put into my appearance, his voice tight. “You’re going out?” I spritzed perfume on my wrists. “Meeting a friend for dinner.” “Guy or girl? Where? I’ll drive you.” His words were rushed and anxious. I found his smothering questions annoying. “No thanks. Someone’s picking me up.” He had his own obligations. After all, he’d agreed to my mother that he would have dinner with one of his new prospects tonight, just to provoke me. When my best friend, Sara Hayes, arrived, Bradon insisted on following me down. Only after confirming it was a girl did the tension in his jaw ease slightly. In the car, Sara glanced at my neck. “Did your brother still marking his territory?” She was my oldest friend and knew all my ugly secrets. I confirmed it with a sound, then checked the mirror, covering the slight redness with concealer. Bradon had been far too aggressive today. The marks on my neck were superficial, but below my collarbone, the damage was worse. Sara scoffed, then switched subjects. “I heard Rebecca King is going to be there. Want me to call a few friends and open a separate tab?” “No need.” I snapped my compact shut, my voice flat. “She just called Bradon, couldn’t reach him, and then called me… she’s probably losing it right now.” My phone was on silent, so I hadn’t picked up. But Rebecca would be sure I did it on purpose. Sara whistled in appreciation. “Well, I could still bring a couple of hot guys for moral support.” “Pass. I just ate a meal. Everything looks boring right now.” Besides, I had a main course waiting for me later. I needed to conserve my energy. 3 Traffic delayed us, and the private room was already buzzing when we arrived. The conversation had conveniently shifted to Bradon. Rebecca was smiling demurely, her cheeks flushed. The people around her were gushing. “When are we going to see the wedding invitations?” Her voice was soft. “That’s entirely up to Bradon.” A woman at the table chuckled nastily. “Hey, is Anya Wells still harassing her stepbrother? That whole thing was truly disgusting!” “You’re going to be a Reid wife soon. Watch out for her. What kind of woman goes after her own stepbrother?” Bang! Bang! Bang! Sara slammed the door open, practically tearing the knob off. She thrust her phone into the air. “Come on! Say that to the camera again!” A few people’s faces fell. Rebecca quickly smoothed things over. “They were just kidding, Anya. Don’t take it the wrong way.” “Of course not.” I pulled Sara to a seat. Food was served, and the atmosphere grew strained but polite. A few glasses of wine later, Rebecca finally broke. She leaned across the table, her tone strained with concern. “Anya, could you… could you contact Bradon for me?” The room went silent. “Every time he goes to see you, he always stops answering my calls.” She bit her lip, her eyes misting instantly. “I don’t know what to do…” In one fell swoop, she’d painted me as the other woman, the homewrecker. Sara practically leaped across the table. “Oh, for God’s sake! If you can’t reach him, how are you his girlfriend? Are you just a mistress he keeps on the side, pretending to be the main event?” I placed a hand on Sara’s arm. “She didn’t mean it like that. Don’t worry.” Rebecca’s smile was forced. “Contact him? Sure, I can do that,” I said, meeting her gaze. “But I don’t think my brother is free right now.” “I helped him pick out a girl for a setup, based on his preferences.” I put down my fork, my expression one of utter innocence. “They’re probably out on a date. Didn’t you know?” Rebecca’s smile cracked. 4 The latter half of the evening was completely frozen. These gatherings were tedious, nothing more than a thinly veiled competition of careers and partners. But I had another reason for being there. Rebecca was distracted for the rest of the meal. As everyone started getting ready to leave, someone asked how I was getting home. I smiled. “My boyfriend is picking me up.” Rebecca’s head snapped up. “You… you have a boyfriend? You said you would only ever—” She didn’t finish the sentence. But we both knew— That I would only ever love Bradon Reid. It was true once. Now, I simply played with a strand of my hair, looking bored. “Little girls talk about forever.” I stood up to touch up my makeup. Sara leaned against the sink. “She’s the ultimate gossip. Aren’t you afraid she’ll tell Bradon?” I blended my lipstick in the mirror. “That’s exactly what I want her to do.” Bradon and I weren’t newly reunited. We had been this way for two months. And even the freshest secret loses its luster eventually. When we broke up the first time, I walked out of that house for two years. Two years later, I returned, unannounced. My mother held me, weeping, asking how I could have been so cruel. Bradon stood right behind her, staring. His eyes burned into me, and I knew then that he still wanted me. He was good at it. And I, at the time, happened to need a man. So that night, I knocked on his door and kissed him. He didn’t pull away. Gone was the hysterical girl. I wrapped my hands around his neck, my gaze submissive. “Bradon, want to do it again?” Once led to twice. And eventually, it became a silent arrangement. A secret, no-strings situation that we never formally called a ‘reunion.’ Later, he started to demand more control, even questioning who I saw. I missed the way he used to ignore me. 5 When the evening wrapped, Knox Dalton came to collect me. He opened the car door for me, waiting until I was settled before walking back around to the driver’s side. He was wearing that cocky, irritating grin of his. I snorted. “Why are you so happy? Did you find a wife?” His smile vanished. “Is it wrong for your boyfriend to be happy to see you?” He had clearly bribed someone at the table for information. This man, outwardly charming and carefree, was apparently a master manipulator in private. I had chosen him for a setup precisely because I thought he was shallow. The engine was barely running when my phone vibrated. Bradon’s message: [Where are you? I’ll come get you.] I casually texted back: [Don’t bother. I’m crashing at a friend’s place tonight.] Almost simultaneously, Sara’s text popped up: [HOLY SHIT LOOK OUTSIDE. Bradon saw you get into Knox Dalton’s car!] I whipped my head around. Where I had been standing moments before, two figures stood. Rebecca was next to Bradon, seemingly talking to him. Bradon was obscured by the shadows, his gaze fixed, dead-on, toward my car. I texted Sara: [It’s fine.] My phone immediately lit up with Bradon’s incoming messages: [Anya Wells, why are you lying to me?] [We need to talk.] [Get out of the car! Did you hear me?] The final text was laced with threat: [Don’t make me call your mother.] Knox, who had obviously seen the exchange, let a dark look flash across his eyes. He curved his lips into a wicked smile. “Sweetheart, you don’t want to introduce your current boyfriend to your ex-brother?” He’d even figured out that dynamic. “No need. Just drive.” My face was impassive. I added, “If this happens again, don’t show up.” His smile tightened, his voice turning acidic. “Fine. Protecting your ex in front of your current guy.” The car merged into the main road. I ignored any further messages. When we arrived at the boutique hotel, the door hadn’t even closed before I was pressed against it. My phone was still buzzing. I reached for it, trying to manage Knox’s kiss while glancing at the texts with one hand. [Who is that man?] [Anya, we’re talking now.] [Open the door! I know you’re in there.] Almost on cue, there was a frantic, urgent knocking on the door. We were right by the entrance, and the noise was deafeningly clear. Knox’s movements stilled. He raised an eyebrow. “I thought one man was enough for you. Why’d you invite your brother?” The knocking carried a sense of rising panic. I cupped Knox’s face. “It’s nothing. Just ignore him.” I tilted my head back and expertly slipped my tongue past his lips. “He’s just a pest.” “Yeah,” he chuckled, his arm tightening as he effortlessly lifted me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “You need a man like me.” He carried me deeper into the room, his strength startlingly steady. “Coming to me with your stepbrother’s marks…” He lowered his head, placing a dark, possessive kiss on the fading red on my collarbone, his voice husky. “I don’t find it shameful. I find it f-cking addictive.” I laughed softly. “Stop flirting. Just hurry up.” The man outside was eventually led away. My phone kept buzzing. I finally just turned it off. I was done. If I had known he would become this obsessive, I wouldn’t have bothered to play this game with him in the first place. 6 Bradon used to be indifferent. When my mother, Eliza, married into the Reid family, she poured all her energy into pleasing her husband and his son. I was shy and quiet. Apart from my grades, I felt like a permanent outsider. Bradon, however, was always the center of attention. Even when he was aloof, he was never alone. I thought I was discreet when my eyes followed him. Later, I realized he hadn’t missed it; he simply hadn’t cared. That was when I met Rebecca. She was always at the Reid house. The first time I saw her, she burst into the living room shouting, “I’m home!” She looked at me on the sofa, confused. “Oh? Do we have a guest?” The words were a small, soft thorn. It didn’t pierce deeply, but it never came out. Every time I saw her after that, witnessing her effortless access to my nominal home, seeing the unspoken bond between her and Bradon— That small thorn suddenly grew sharp, poking the same spot, again and again. It wasn’t lethal, but it was impossible to ignore. I tried to pretend I didn’t care. Later, Bradon and I were in a secret relationship for four years. Yet, at every family dinner, Rebecca sat beside him. She would often smile at me and say, “If I didn’t cover for you two, Uncle Alexander would have caught you already!” Even at school, everyone assumed they were a couple. I was just the girl who got close to my “brother,” quickly labeled as a home-wrecker. Bradon said, “The truth will speak for itself.” Rebecca said, “They’re just joking.” I was the only one who felt the truth was suffocating. I grew tired of hiding. I wanted to hold his hand in the sunlight. All I got was rejection. In a state of extreme insecurity, I became irrational. Rebecca became a trigger for me. The soft thorn turned into a thicket of prickles all over my body. I constantly badgered Bradon: “Why can she be next to you, and I can’t?” He finally snapped, his voice ice-cold. “Can you just stop making a scene? If you want to go public so badly, go find someone you can be public with!” I loved him to the point of self-destruction, yet I was the one who broke up with him. He was indifferent, convinced I was just being dramatic. I left home without a word, for two whole years. I spent those two years volunteering at a remote foster home. That’s where I met Knox Dalton. He was laid-back, perpetually scruffy, yet strangely popular. Whenever we went out for supplies, young women would blush and ask for his number. He would sling his arm over my shoulder, grinning cheekily. “Sorry, I have a girlfriend.” “Oh? But you don’t look… close?” He’d shrug with mock helplessness. “I messed up. I’m trying to win her back.” I froze. We weren’t a couple, yet he was publicly claiming me. In that moment, I realized the last four years of my life had been a pointless farce. Later, I returned home, having cut most ties with my past. Then my mother brought me a stack of photos of potential suitors. My finger paused on one photograph. The man in the picture was smiling, utterly disarming. My mother leaned in. “That one… he looks a little too much like a player. Maybe we should try someone else?” But I said, “He’s the one.”

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After a car accident, my memory stopped at eighteen. When I woke up, I happened to catch Julian Xu passionately kissing my sister. I found it interesting, snapped a photo, and sent it to the family group chat. My sister saw it and ordered me to delete it. I laughed heartlessly: “Hehe, brother-in-law is so handsome, why are you hiding him, sis?” Julian Xu froze: “What did you call me…” “Brother-in-law? I’m your fiancé.” 1 In my sleep, I heard the sound of passionate kissing. Annoyed by the noise, I reluctantly opened my eyes, only to see my sister straddling a man. The two were kissing inextricably, completely disregarding me lying next to them, making ambiguous noises continuously. I sobered up instantly, eyes wide open. No way, my pure and lovely innocent sister actually has such a wild side. After seeing the man’s face clearly, I couldn’t help but sigh that she eats really well. I picked up my phone and snapped photos fiercely, thinking of sending them to her later. But damn it, I forgot to turn off the flash. Startled by the sudden bright light, both of them looked towards me. Zoe Ye cursed first: “Luna Ye, are you crazy? Playing ghost to scare who?” … Julian Xu frowned and pushed Zoe away, tidied up his messy clothes, and strode towards me. “Since you’re awake, hurry up and come back with me.” Saying this, he reached out to hold my hand. Don’t know why, as soon as he approached me, my heart felt stifled. Almost instinctively, I dodged his touch. Thinking who this person was, someone pushed the door open. The person who came was none other than my mother. My mom sat by the bed, crying with snot and tears: “How could you get into a car accident when you were fine? Fortunately, Julian sent you to the hospital in time. If anything happened to you, mom wouldn’t want to live anymore.” The lust in Julian’s eyes had faded. At this moment, he looked like a modest gentleman: “Auntie, this is what I should do.” My mom nodded with satisfaction. Seeing me indifferent, my mom winked at me. I immediately understood, got out of bed and bowed a standard 90 degrees to Julian, shouting loudly: “Thank you, brother-in-law, for saving my life. In the future, I will treat you like my own brother.” Julian’s face turned black instantly, speechless for a long time. A cold wind blew, I couldn’t help shivering, and rolled back into the hospital bed nimbly. Continued to say smilingly: “Brother-in-law won’t blame me, a patient, right? I’m a patient now, can’t stand the cold.” Julian froze: “What did you call me…” Every time I called him brother-in-law, Julian’s face sank a bit more. My mom was so scared she covered my mouth: “Damn child, what nonsense are you shouting?” Zoe, who had been standing silently beside, suddenly panicked too. “Luna, stop talking nonsense. If you talk nonsense again, Julian will be angry. Have you forgotten the consequences of making him angry last time?” I don’t understand, why would he be angry? And why can’t I make him angry? What consequences can there be for making him angry? They are all so weird. Instead, Julian said without changing his expression: “What trick are you playing again? I’m not in the mood to play with you here.” My mom looked at Julian nervously and apologized to him: “Julian, don’t lower yourself to Luna’s level. She might just be throwing a tantrum with you. Coax her, she will definitely go with you immediately. Never get angry with her.” What my mom said left me confused. Under my mom’s persuasion, Julian’s attitude softened: “It’s my fault this time. Be good, come home with me.” Saying this, he reached out to brush away the broken hair on my forehead. My mom looked at us with relief. Zoe behind seemed to have poison in her eyes. Meeting her gaze, I sobered up instantly, leaned back, didn’t sit firmly, borrowed force to kick Julian’s chest to avoid hitting my head. Julian was kicked to the ground by me, his waist hitting a sharp point, almost unable to straighten up for a moment. The distress in Zoe’s eyes was about to overflow: “Luna, are you crazy!” My mom ignored Julian and stepped forward to check my body. “Baby, let mom see, are you hurt?” Zoe complained: “Mom, look at her, does she look hurt at all? I think she’s faking it.” Julian also completely lost patience: “Luna, it seems you still haven’t learned your lesson. If I come to see you again, I’m a dog!” 2 Since childhood, I haven’t been pointed at and scolded like this. I can’t swallow this breath. I jumped up from the hospital bed and gave him a downward chop directly. Black belt in Taekwondo is not practiced for nothing. “Who wanted you to come? Aren’t you my sister’s boyfriend? What, still want to play the game of taking both sisters?” My mom turned pale with fright and hurriedly dialed my dad’s number. “Husband, come quickly, our daughter is silly.” My dad, who was paying the bill, rushed into the ward with the doctor in a panic. A crowd of people surrounded me, examining me carefully. The conclusion obtained was – brain knocked into amnesia. After hearing this diagnosis, my parents actually laughed out loud. Hurriedly asked the doctor: “What is the probability of not recovering memory?” The doctor was stunned. Generally, parents ask about the probability of recovering memory. Parents asking about the probability of not recovering memory, mine are probably the first. “About twenty percent. “There is only a slight blood clot in the patient’s brain. When the blood clot dissipates, she should be able to remember.” My parents instantly deflated like leaked balls, becoming listless. Hearing the doctor’s diagnosis, Julian sneered: “Amnesia? Thanks for thinking of it. Don’t think I can like you like this.” The picture of him passionately kissing my sister flashed in my mind. I couldn’t help shivering. “Don’t worry, brother-in-law, I’m not interested in married men.” Julian froze, then gritted his teeth: “Brother-in-law? I’m your fiancé!” Seeing this, my mom kept comforting his emotions in a humble posture. It can be seen that my mom is really afraid of him getting angry with me. My dad also started to scold me: “What nonsense, your sister has a boyfriend, relatives and friends have seen him. Saying this is bad for your sister’s reputation.” I couldn’t bear it anymore, blurted out: “Mom and Dad, what I said is true. I even took a photo just now.” My parents looked puzzled, waiting for me to find the photo for them. Zoe came over to snatch my phone at this time. “Luna, haven’t you played enough of this slanderous trick? “Aren’t you afraid Julian will hate you more?” I turned slightly, letting her pounce on nothing. She still didn’t give up, pressing me directly onto the bed. During the struggle, my finger swiped wildly on the screen. After a while, the phones of my parents, my sister, and Julian rang at the same time. At this time, their brows frowned into a “river” character in unison. My dad pulled Zoe away and slapped her: “Beast, he is your sister’s fiancé, how could you do this?” It turned out that during the struggle just now, I accidentally sent the photo to the family group chat. 3 Suddenly, the family group chat became lively. Everyone came online to eat melons (gossip). Chatting one sentence after another. [Big cousin, didn’t see that coming, playing so open privately.] [Holy crap, did I see it wrong? Isn’t this Luna’s fiancé? Why is he gnawing with Zoe?] [No way, big cousin can even seduce her own sister’s boyfriend, truly an ungrateful wolf.] Zoe looked at the scrolling messages on the screen, face flushed for a while, not knowing how to explain, looking helplessly at Julian. But Julian didn’t even give her a look. She pointed the spearhead at me again. “Luna, retract it quickly, do you want to ruin me?” I laughed heartlessly: “Hehe, brother-in-law is so handsome, why are you hiding him, sis? “Look at the photo I took of you two, quite aesthetic. No need to thank me, save it quickly. Isn’t it a beautiful memory to watch together lying in bed when old?” Zoe jumped with anger: “Didn’t you hear mom and dad say? He is your fiancé.” I was amused. “Sis, you are also teasing me with mom and dad. “If he is my fiancé, then why did you kiss together? “Could it be like what uncle said, you screwed my man behind my back?” Zoe didn’t speak. Suddenly her eyes rolled, kneeling in front of my parents: “Just now was a moment of urgency. Julian had an asthma attack. He didn’t bring a ventilator. I was giving him artificial respiration.” “Sister likes him so much, how could I rob him from her? Mom and Dad, believe me.” No way, hand reached into other’s clothes just now, whose family does artificial respiration with French kiss. Blue Sky Lord (Heavens), only fools would believe this. Result my mom asked Julian suspiciously: “Julian, is it like what Zoe said?” Julian hesitated for a moment, nodded. My mom breathed a sigh of relief instantly, muttering to herself: “I knew it, you are not that kind of people.” Okay, my own mom is that fool. My dad’s face was black, wanted to say something more, but was pulled by my mom. My mom signaled with her eyes, shook her head. My dad looked at me deeply, sighed, and eventually didn’t say a word. Their eyes gradually turned red, holding my hand: “Luna, it’s all a misunderstanding. Don’t think too much. Mom and Dad won’t harm you.” I looked at them in confusion. Why do they believe such a clumsy lie? Then they apologized to Julian again: “Luna has amnesia now. Bear with her more. Hope you won’t hurt her again after she recovers her memory.” Heavens, did this person save our whole family’s lives? 4 Mom and Dad played dumb, saying they had something to do and left first. Before leaving, didn’t forget to instruct Julian: “Julian, take good care of Luna. Maybe if you chat more, she will remember.” Zoe was pushed out of the door by them: “Go quickly, don’t disturb them two.” She was full of reluctance, but dared not flare up in front of parents. After the ward door closed, only Julian and I were left in the room. Julian looked at me wordlessly, with scrutiny in his eyes. I was stared at until goosebumps rose, didn’t know what to say, smiled awkwardly at him. He was slightly stunned, with a trace of inquiry in his tone: “Luna, really don’t remember me?” I shook my head. He asked again: “Then what do you remember now?” I lowered my eyelids, thought for a while: “I remember I scored 700 in the college entrance exam, then several famous schools came to my house to snatch me.” Recalling that scene, I giggled foolishly, so much face. But disgust inexplicably rose in Julian’s eyes, saying coldly: “A dog can’t change eating shit. Even with amnesia, you can’t change the bad habit of lying.” I immediately stopped smiling, angry out of nowhere: “Why do you say I lie? Don’t believe it, right? Let’s check now. The score checking system won’t lie to people.” Julian looked like he didn’t want to pay attention to me, and mocked me: “The one who scored 700 is Zoe. You just like to occupy the magpie’s nest (take credit for others).” Just kidding, if Zoe can score 700, I’ll handstand and eat shit. Usually scoring 300, my parents are already happy to bloom, still 700? This kind of insult to intelligence, can’t bear a bit. “Brother-in-law, you can’t invert black and white just because you like my sister, right? “Open the student information network, let you see this girl’s true level.” Julian opened his mouth to refuse me, I didn’t give him a chance at all. Excitedly pulled him to sit on the bed, clicked into the “Student Status and Education” module in front of him. Unknowingly, Julian revealed a shallow smile. At the critical moment, the internet speed stuck, kept spinning on the entering page. I slapped my thigh anxiously. But heard Julian groan in pain, almost gritting his teeth: “Luna!” I smiled sheepishly, just at this time the page refreshed. “Look look, it’s out.” Written clearly on the screen— Luna Ye total score column 700 points. Julian was dumbfounded at once, picked up my phone and refreshed again and again, even suspecting I created a fake website for him. I rolled my eyes: “Is it true or not? Put your own identity information in, won’t you know?” Julian seemed to react, fingertips quickly tapping the 26 keys. After pressing “Confirm”, I obviously felt his nervousness. Next second, his score also appeared on the screen— Julian Xu total score column 692 points. I almost laughed out loud at once: “Hahaha, weak dog, so you were afraid my score is higher than yours.” Julian stared tightly at the screen, talking to himself: “So you didn’t lie to me at that time.” I didn’t understand what he was saying, slapped his thigh again, saying word by word: “Of—course—la!” Julian’s face grimaced, removing my hand: “Speak if you speak, don’t use hands.” I immediately shrunk my hands into sleeves, looking at him pitifully: “Okay okay brother-in-law, wasn’t I too excited?” Julian’s face darkened: “Don’t call me brother-in-law again, I’m your fiancé.” I quickly pushed him off the bed: “Brother-in-law joking again. Although I have amnesia, you don’t look like my type, so don’t lie to me.” This fall seemed quite serious. He fell on the ground and couldn’t get up directly, swaying in pain. I asked guiltily: “Brother-in-law, get up quickly, stop pretending. My sister is not here now, no one here will feel sorry for you.” Seeing the cold sweat on his forehead becoming denser, I realized something was wrong and pressed the call bell by the bed. Finally he was carried away by several nurses on a stretcher. I called my parents weakly: “Mom and Dad, I seem to have caused trouble.”

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