Category: English

I’ve been Julian Xie’s canary for three years. I don’t want to do it anymore. Planning to let him kick me out. Need to find a reason. As everyone knows, Julian Xie is a non-marriageist. What he hates most in his life is forced marriage. On my birthday, I hooked his neck, panting softly: “Will you marry me?” The luggage is already packed, just waiting for him to speak and drive me away. I looked at him with starry eyes full of expectation. He frowned slightly, and in the next second, lived up to my expectations. His tone was light: “Good girl, don’t make trouble.” 1 Julian Xie has a younger brother. Not the kind of brother who can fight for girlfriends with him. It’s a brother eighteen years younger than him. After being an only child for eighteen years, he suddenly became a big brother. Because the age gap is really too big, no family property disputes happened at all. He spoils this brother very much. During summer vacation, his parents go out to travel around the world and dump his brother on him. This has nothing to do with me. I am his brother’s piano teacher. Many times, the little brat sits on the piano stool, I correct his posture, and the gaze behind me is burning. Every time I look back, I can always see Julian Xie staring at me. As if afraid I would eat the child. Caught red-handed, he is calm and composed: “Is there anything wrong, teacher?” Nothing. Just uncomfortable being stared at by him. Originally, things should have stopped here. Just one more person listening to my teaching. But later, some very bad things happened. 2 “Baby, I’m back.” I just opened the door, and a slightly drunk body hugged me tight. He shouldn’t have drunk much; the smell of alcohol wasn’t heavy. Looking at him, he was also sober. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “I’ll go make you some sobering soup. Do you want it with apple or ginger?” Julian Xie pinched my chin and deepened the kiss. He picked me up. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. Before he came back, I was playing games. The projector was on, only a dim spotlight left. Eleven o’clock at night, very quiet. He bit me lightly: “Wear a skirt at home next time.” Today I wore a full set of pajamas. I looked at him blurry-eyed, complaining in a low voice: “You are so lazy.” His movements were skillful. I heard the sound of the zipper being unzipped. Next second, his brows relaxed, sighing: “Did my good baby miss me?” Julian Xie held me and walked slowly towards the living room. I bit my lip, suppressing the trembling: “Mm, missed you.” The house is a large flat, not small. Julian Xie detoured to the kitchen midway, took a plate of strawberries and washed them clean. He did everything slowly and methodically. Just looking at his upper body, who could tell his loss of control over me. When we reached the living room, I didn’t have much strength left. He took a strawberry: “Open your mouth.” I obediently bit off the strawberry tip. Julian Xie kissed away the strawberry juice at the corner of my mouth, saying specious dirty love words. “Don’t bite, good baby is so greedy.” My cheeks were burning hot. No matter how long, I couldn’t stand him like this. Seeing me shy, he said more and more excessively. I buried myself in his arms whimpering. Julian Xie went on a business trip for half a month this time, and was immediately pulled to attend a dinner party upon returning to the country. It had really been too long since he saw me. His gentleness didn’t last long. Later, I couldn’t care about being shy, could only look at the ceiling. Mind blank. And he circled me into his arms, content. “Baby, sleep, good night.” 3 Waking up the next day, Julian Xie was by my side. I rested on his chest, using him as a human body pillow. He was hard all over, pleasing to the eye when looked at, but not as good as a pillow to hold. I moved my body, sore all over. He actually again… I looked up, staring blankly at his side face. Trance returned to three years ago. Three years ago, I also lay on the same bed with Julian Xie like this. While I was lost in memories, my head was rubbed. The man’s morning hoarse voice appeared: “Good morning baby.” He propped himself up, lazily pinching my face. “Did my good baby feel it?” How could I not feel it! He approached me very slowly. Julian Xie held my hand and pressed it on his chest. I was stunned. What is he doing? He said: “My heartbeat.” At this moment, he and I were inseparable. The heartbeat under the palm came through a layer of skin and flesh. I heard two heartbeats. His, mine. Julian Xie’s heartbeat was very fast, I suspected the rate could reach 130. The other heartbeat was mine. The steady heartbeat gradually accelerated. Couldn’t tell if it was nervousness or fear. Two heartbeats tended to be synchronized. He lowered his head to kiss me: “Baby, I love you.” Me: …? What’s wrong with him. Suddenly saying such things. I was a little panicked, fortunately the next second he pressed me under him. I reacted. Man got satisfied in bed, what’s wrong with saying some irrelevant love words. Scared me to death. Thought he was going to confess to me. Right, who would confess in this situation. I embraced his neck to cooperate with him. “I love you too.” 4 Julian Xie has been a bit wrong recently. According to past experience, he would be sticky with me day and night after returning from a business trip. But recently, the time I saw him decreased. This decrease was not very obvious. If I didn’t pay attention, I might not feel it. I propped my head, looking at Julian Xie’s reply just received on the phone. [Don’t come to pick me up, I have a meeting to attend, will be home half an hour late] Suffix with a pat head emoji. I looked at this message for a while, finally confirmed, Julian Xie is just wrong. Where did he get the cute emoji. Saved from whom. I chatted with him using only a set of line puppies, his new emoji is Peach Cat. I typed in the chat box: [Are you in love?] Thought about it and deleted it. Who falls in love and doesn’t accompany girlfriend. I changed to: [Are you secretly in love with someone recently?] Seems wrong too. I typed deleted typed deleted, finally sent nothing. Thinking of Julian Xie saying “I love you” in bed these two days, I sighed. Sigh. He never said such things before. Did he suddenly feel guilty towards me? I closed the chat box. Staring blankly at the ceiling. Forget it. He chose to hide from me, I’ll just pretend I didn’t find anything. I have no right to question him either. Just live like this, anyway it’s quite good. 5 Not good at all. The phone reminded me my period should come. Didn’t come. Waited two days, still didn’t come. Waited another two days. Waited half a month, nothing happened. I had a very bad feeling. During the day, after Julian Xie went out, I ordered a takeout. After the delivery arrived, I didn’t go to get it for a long time. Wait until the little person on the projection screen died again and again, I went to open the door and took the pharmacy takeout. So annoying. Don’t want to face it. But what should be faced still has to be faced. I looked at the two bars on the pregnancy test, even more annoyed. Throw it away. Definitely inaccurate! I packed up some things, went to the gynecology department of the nearest hospital for a checkup. Still showed pregnant. Hospital is also inaccurate. Broken hospital. I threw away the pregnancy test report too, prepared to go back disheartened. Passed by the snack street bought two portions of grilled squid to gnaw. Even more finished. I don’t even want to eat my favorite grilled squid. Phone vibrated in pocket, fished out, Julian Xie’s message. [Baby did you go out?] I took a photo of the grilled squid in hand: [Not tasty] He replied: [Send to my company, I help you eat] No. I finished the rest in one bite. Went to buy two new portions, then went to Julian Xie’s company.

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Ethan once dated me for a short while. When we broke up, he sneered: “You knew I only dated you because I lost a bet, why are you so cheap?” I didn’t explain, probably because I hadn’t read enough books and didn’t understand the principle of “leaving room for love.” Later, my mother told me that for two people to be together for a long time, love isn’t important; suitability is. I learned my lesson, listed my conditions, and after years of floating in the dating market, I finally found a suitable man. In the cafe, my date and I had a great conversation, even agreeing to have two children after marriage. Suddenly, an exquisitely dressed little boy popped out from nowhere and hugged my leg: “Mommy, why are you here? I missed you so much!” My date’s eyes widened in shock: “You have a child?” Before I could deny it, the little boy put his hands on his hips and answered righteously: “Of course I’m Mommy’s child, my daddy can prove it!” I followed his gaze and saw Ethan standing quietly not far away, hands in his pockets. Congratulations to me, six years after the breakup, I became a mother. 1 “Is this child really not yours?” My date was very skeptical. Of course, I understood his concerns. After all, the dating market is a mixed bag, full of all kinds of people. So I reasoned with him: “Look at me, look at this kid, and then look at the kid’s dad. Do you think we look like a family?” Ethan was too outstanding. He was the kind of outstanding that could be spotted instantly in a crowd even wearing a hat, mask, and the most ordinary T-shirt and jeans. This kid also had red lips and white teeth, and even a Gucci logo on his little leather jacket. My date looked at me, then at Ethan, and nodded convinced: “Indeed, you don’t look like a family. You’re better suited with me.” “I don’t know this kid, but his dad is my high school classmate. Haven’t seen him for years; he’s probably playing a joke on me.” I smiled and patted the kid’s head. My date was more reassured. Just as he was about to sit down and continue chatting, he received an urgent call from his company. I expressed understanding and said we could meet another time. “I’ve already paid the bill. Take your time eating, you can share with the kid too.” “Thank you, next time it’s on me.” I was really satisfied with this date, but as soon as he left, I heard the little boy say: “Your taste is really bad. He’s far worse than my dad.” I smiled and didn’t reply. Just as I was about to send him back to Ethan, I saw Ethan walking towards us. He called the waiter and asked to clear the desserts on the table. “These haven’t been touched yet. Waiter, please pack them for me,” I said gently. Ethan was a germaphobe; he wouldn’t touch anything others had touched. Of course, he had the capital for that. But I didn’t. I thought it was a pity to throw away perfectly good food. “You like these?” Ethan finally spoke, saying his first sentence to me. I looked at him in confusion. “Reorder the desserts on the table, pack them all for this lady.” Ethan opened the payment code on his phone and handed it to the waiter. “Throw away the ones on the table.” “I don’t really like sweets. If you order them, give them to the kid. But don’t let him eat too much; it’s bad for his teeth.” Saying this, I picked up my bag and nodded as a goodbye. “We haven’t seen each other for so many years. After all, we were lovers once.” Ethan tapped his fingers on the table a few times and looked up at me. “Don’t you want to sit down and catch up, Sarah?” 2 I sat back in the chair. The waiter was quick and soon served new drinks. Ethan’s son sat next to him, quietly scooping cake with a spoon. I felt the atmosphere was a bit awkward. He said catch up, but he didn’t speak. “You’re married? How old is your son?” “Four.” I calculated the time and was a bit surprised: “So you got married before graduating college?” Quite unexpected. I thought Ethan was against marriage, but it turned out the rules were for outsiders. When he met the right person, all principles could be compromised. “Were you on a blind date just now?” “Ah? Yes.” I nodded. “How was it? Satisfied?” “Pretty good. We have quite a lot in common.” Both pragmatic and sincere. Ethan sneered, his tone mocking: “Seems you really reached that age where any man will do.” I stopped stirring my coffee, staring at the whirlpool in the liquid for a few seconds, then looked up with a smile and admitted frankly: “Yeah, I’m not young anymore. I want to settle down quickly, otherwise, it will be hard to recover from childbirth when I’m older.” Ethan’s lips pressed into a straight line. This was a sign that he was very unhappy. Normal. He was unhappy most of the time in front of me. I used to be terrified of this and always racked my brains to make him happy. “Don’t you think he looks familiar?” Ethan suddenly pointed at his son and asked me. I listened to him and observed carefully. “Your son doesn’t look much like you. Is he more like his mom? Do I know his mom too?” There were only a few girls close to Ethan that I happened to know. I guessed one by one, but Ethan’s face grew darker and darker. Finally, I shut up tactfully and smiled awkwardly: “Sorry, I don’t have much contact with high school classmates. I don’t remember many of them. How about a hint?” Ethan didn’t speak, and the atmosphere became more and more suffocating. The kid opened his big eyes, looking at me, then at his dad. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by Ethan: “Forget it.” He breathed rapidly for a few seconds, then quickly calmed down and handed his phone to me: “Add me on WeChat.” Actually, I didn’t really want to add him. But he kept staring at me, as if he wouldn’t take back his phone unless I added him. I could only take out my phone, scan the code, and send a friend request. “Let’s go.” Ethan put away his phone with satisfaction, stood up, and left first. The kid slid off the chair nimbly and trotted to keep up. After a few steps, he turned back to look at me. I smiled and waved goodbye to him. Actually, I wanted to tell Ethan to pay attention and not let the kid call anyone mom. Then I thought, what does it have to do with me? Why worry about things that don’t concern me. 3 I chose to pack the table full of desserts in the end and shared them with my colleagues at work the next day. “Wow, this dessert shop is expensive. Did you win the lottery?” “Your date bought it, right? This one is generous, unlike those stingy guys before.” “Right, almost forgot you have blind dates every week. How about this one? Did you like him?” I smiled and nodded: “I think this one is pretty good.” “What are his conditions?” I told the truth, and saw my colleagues looking disappointed: “You even consider these conditions?” “But compared to the previous ones, this one is already pretty good.” They chattered, eating cake while discussing my marriage. Perhaps I was a weirdo in their eyes because I had been going on blind dates since graduating from college. Not forced by relatives or friends, going through the motions to save face, but very seriously filtering and chatting. They thought women who were so determined to enter the grave of marriage in this era were fools. But I just knew very clearly what I wanted. I wasn’t a celibate, didn’t reject marriage, nor was I a very firm person who might not withstand the pressure of marriage urging from relatives and friends. Instead of being chosen by men when I’m older, it’s better to take the initiative while young and try to pick one I’m satisfied with. After all, a woman’s age is like a man’s wealth; it’s hard currency. My colleagues said my dates were low quality, nothing outstanding. But I was just a very ordinary woman, with nothing outstanding about me either. People always need to have self-knowledge. 3 After adding Ethan, I never chatted with him. He posted on Moments every now and then, from rock climbing to racing, always surrounded by beautiful women, living a colorful life. I liked liking posts; I found watching other people’s lives interesting and wasn’t stingy with small kindnesses. But I never liked Ethan’s posts. After all, given Ethan’s dislike for me, my like would probably only ruin his good mood. I met my date a few more times, had meals, watched movies, and we both had high approval of each other. On a gentle moonlit night, he asked me nervously and seriously if we could date with marriage in mind. I agreed. Mom was right. Marriage isn’t always about loving each other and living happily ever after. It’s the union of two families to increase the ability to resist risks, while also satisfying the instinct of human reproduction. Many of my colleagues and friends didn’t want children. They said only people whose brains haven’t fully evolved would be full of thoughts about children. Well, maybe my brain hasn’t fully evolved. Dragging down humanity, truly a bit embarrassed. On Monday, I specially took half a day off to go to the hospital. My health wasn’t very good, with irregular periods and dysmenorrhea. Thinking that since I planned to get married, I should check my body first, regulate it in advance, and prepare for pregnancy in the future. The doctor looked at my medical record, wrote some slips quickly, and asked me to come back for a follow-up with the test results. I walked while flipping through the test slips. Before seeing clearly where to do the tests, I heard someone call my name: “Sarah?” I looked up subconsciously and took a few seconds to remember who she was. Bella Feng, a high school classmate. She was pushing Ethan in a wheelchair, just walking out of the elevator. Don’t know what happened to Ethan; his face was a bit pale, and his leg was in a cast. “It really is you. I thought I saw wrong.” She looked me up and down. “You haven’t changed at all.” I knew what she meant. Most girls would undergo a transformative change after college and graduation compared to high school. But I didn’t. I still wasn’t good at makeup, didn’t dress up much, even my hairstyle was the same as in high school, bangs, short bob. “Hello.” I greeted politely. “Long time no see.” There were many test slips in my hand. I didn’t hold them steady for a moment, and they all fell to the ground. Bella subconsciously wanted to help. “No need, no need, I’ll do it myself.” I squatted on the ground picking up the slips one by one. One of them happened to drift to Ethan’s feet. Bella bent down to pick it up, glanced at it, and said in surprise: “Sarah, I thought you were very conservative and absolutely wouldn’t accept premarital sex. You actually had an abortion?” 4 People around looked over. Abortion isn’t shameful in this era, but I still felt inexplicably ashamed. I hurriedly took the slip from her hand, lowered my head, and wanted to leave. “Don’t go.” Bella grabbed my arm. “Are you in a hurry? Haven’t seen each other for so many years, let’s catch up?” Catch up again. Not even a good relationship, what “old times” are there to catch up on? “I’m in a hurry to get back to work.” I broke free from her, forced a smile, stuffed the slips into my bag, turned, and left. I could roughly guess that I would probably become a gossip figure in their small group again. It was the same when I was with Ethan back then. I was too love-struck then, reluctant to separate from Ethan, and because of my cowardly personality, I silently endured a lot of ridicule and eye-rolling. A short scream suddenly came from behind, followed by a heavy “thud.” I looked back subconsciously. Bella had a mix of surprise and fear on her face, standing awkwardly beside Ethan. Ethan was still sitting in the wheelchair, looking calm. Not far away, a phone broken in half lay quietly. Sensing my gaze, Ethan looked up at me expressionlessly, then withdrew his gaze, pressed the switch on the wheelchair, and left in the opposite direction. Bella picked up the phone and trotted to catch up. I thought Ethan was only moody in front of me. Turns out he’s like that with others too. For some reason, there was a subtle balance in my heart.

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The loan sharks kicked the door in, demanding the enormous gambling debt my protégé, Travis Miller, had racked up. But it was my childhood sweetheart, Sloan Beckett, who shoved me forward. Her voice was cold, distant. “He’s the one you want. Owen Reed. Take him.” In the dark, suffocating backroom of the illicit gambling operation, they stripped my dignity first. They tore my fingernails out, then used a steel pipe to methodically shatter my ribs, one by agonizing one. When the pain crested, I was a whimpering mess, groveling on the concrete floor like a beaten animal. Utterly without honor. They offered me one moment of “mercy”: a chance to call for help. Holding onto a sliver of hope, I dialed Sloan. Her voice on the line was colder than the ice in my veins. “If you hadn’t been so selfish, Travis would never have been desperate enough to gamble.” “Even if you die in their hands, you’ll just be getting what you deserve.” The dial tone, flat and final, was the last sound I heard in my world. Later, I did die, just as she predicted. Yet, Sloan didn’t wear a single smile. She seemed to go mad, her eyes bloodshot, tearing through every back-alley operation in the city. Sloan, why would you cry for me? 1 When my little sister, Lily, carried my ashes home, Sloan kicked the door open. She scanned the empty living room, her tone icy. “Where is Owen Reed? Tell him to get out here.” Lily huddled in the corner, clutching the urn tighter to her chest. She looked up and smiled at Sloan. “Brother’s right here.” Sloan’s brow furrowed sharply. Her gaze fell on the cheap wooden box, then moved to Lily’s innocent, tear-stained face. She let out an impatient, low scoff, reaching out to snatch it. “Don’t be an idiot. Where is he hiding? He’s using you and this piece of junk to fool me.” Lily clung to it desperately, tears welling up in her eyes. “Brother is here. Inside. Be gentle, you’ll hurt Brother.” Sloan looked as if she’d heard the funniest joke in the world. She roughly swatted Lily’s hands away. The wooden box dropped. My ashes spilled across the floor. “Owen Reed, that parasite, you think he knows pain? When he was ruining Travis, did he ever consider how much he hurt others?” “Stop this pathetic act. Tell him to come out now.” Lily froze. She stared blankly at the ashes scattered on the ground. After a few seconds, she lunged forward, scrambling on the floor, trying to scoop up the gray dust with her bare hands. “Brother, Brother, don’t be scared. Lily will protect you.” Sloan watched her dirty hands and her tear-streaked face. The last vestige of her patience snapped. “Keep acting, keep playing the fool. A retard and a viper, what a perfect match.” She sneered, tipping her head toward her bodyguards. “Search the place. I want him dragged out. He thinks he can fake his death and trick me? I’ll make him kneel and beg Travis for forgiveness.” The bodyguards moved instantly. Furniture was roughly toppled. Dishes shattered. The entire house descended into chaos. Lily screamed in terror, trying to stop them, but they pushed her aside easily. She could only curl up beside the ashes, attempting to shield me with her small body. I clenched my back teeth, charging toward Sloan. “I’m dead! You got what you wanted! Why won’t you leave me alone?” But she didn’t even glance my way. I stared blankly at my transparent, useless hands, my entire being freezing in place. Right. I was dead. The bodyguards didn’t find me. Sloan’s rage peaked. She walked up to Lily, looking down at her. “Where is your brother?” Lily sobbed, digging something out of her pocket, holding it out carefully. “Brother’s signet ring. Take it. Don’t hit Brother.” It was the vintage silver signet ring Sloan had personally put on my finger on my eighteenth birthday. I hadn’t taken it off since that day. Now it lay, covered in dust, in Lily’s small, grimy hand. Sloan’s pupils contracted, and she snatched it away. She stared at the ring, her chest heaving. The next second, she violently smashed it against the floor. The silver ring cracked and fractured into several pieces. “He’s even willing to use this for his act? He’s really throwing everything he has into this!” Her voice was raw, whether from anger or something else, I couldn’t tell. “No! Brother is dead! Brother is gone!” Lily crawled over, trying to fit the pieces back together. Sloan’s eyes fixed on Lily’s face. “Still lying.” “Lock her in the basement. As long as Owen doesn’t show up, she doesn’t eat. I want to see how long he can hide.” A bodyguard grabbed my sister, who was crying hysterically, and tossed her into the cellar. Lily lay on the cold floor, unable to get up for a long time. I floated down and looked at her. My spectral eyes immediately welled up. To retrieve my ashes, she had gone to the loan sharks. There was no way those men would let her leave easily. For three days and three nights, she endured. When she finally walked out, her legs were shaking. But she hadn’t cried. She had smiled, hugging my urn to her chest. She said, “Brother, I’ll protect you from now on.” I watched as she carefully opened her palm. The fragments of the signet ring had sliced her skin, drawing blood. She just smiled a little. “Brother’s favorite ring. I’ll keep it for Brother until he comes back.” She was visibly shivering from the cold, but she tucked the fragments safely into her pocket. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I cried out, a soundless, desperate wail that no one could hear. After our parents died in that car crash when I was eighteen, the trauma had kept Lily’s mind fixed at the age of eight. We only had each other. I never imagined she would go to such lengths for me. I looked at my sister. I didn’t want anything anymore. I just wanted my sister to live. The next day, Sloan didn’t send food to the basement. Naturally, she didn’t see that Lily had already collapsed with a fever. It was three days later when Sloan finally remembered the girl locked below. The basement door was pushed open. The smell of mildew and a faint metallic, bloody scent rushed out. Lily was curled up in the corner. Her face was flushed crimson with fever, her lips cracked and bleeding. Her breathing was so shallow, the rise and fall of her chest was barely visible. Sloan’s footsteps paused. Her brow instinctively furrowed. “How did she get like this?” Just as she was about to turn and call someone, Travis Miller’s voice, choked with tears, came from behind her. “Lily.” He rushed forward, then stopped a few feet away. The corners of his eyes were red, his body shaking. “It’s my fault, Sloan. I shouldn’t have crossed Owen. Now Lily is paying for it.” “I’ll go to Owen now. I’ll apologize, I’ll get on my knees, I’ll do anything he wants. Just tell him to let Lily go.” As he made to fall to his knees, Sloan grabbed him instantly. “You did nothing wrong. The fault lies entirely with the selfish, cruel Owen Reed.” “He’s willing to use his own sister’s life as a bargaining chip just to avoid apologizing? How despicable.” She actually thought I had caused Lily’s illness? Sloan sneered. “Fine. If he’s willing to sacrifice her, I have nothing to lose. Close the door.” She gave my sister one cold glance on the floor and turned to walk away. I rushed forward, shouting in front of her. “No! Sloan Beckett, don’t!” “Save my sister! Please save her!” “She always called you Sister Sloan! Do you really have the heart to do this?” Just as the words left my ghostly mouth, Sloan paused. A flicker of hope sparked in my heart. I thought she’d finally found her conscience. But she turned around, her voice dangerously cold. “Who gave her this water? Didn’t I say not to give her any food or drink?” The housekeeper hurried in from outside. “Ms. Beckett, it was me. The young lady—” She was cut off before she could finish. “Remember who signs your paycheck. If I ever find out you give her anything again, you’re fired.” The housekeeper’s eyes flashed with sympathy, but she lowered her gaze. Sloan lifted her foot and viciously kicked the bowl away. Water splashed onto Lily’s sleeve. The shock made Lily stir, and she let out a painful moan. A crumpled piece of paper fluttered out of her hands. It was my official death certificate. Sloan’s gaze slammed onto it. Her pupils shrank. She stood frozen for several seconds, completely motionless. Travis saw it too. His face paled, but he quickly stepped forward. “Sloan, this must be something Owen made to trick us. We haven’t received any official notification of his death.” Sloan seemed jolted awake by his voice. She looked at Lily again, her eyes filled only with annoyance. “I underestimated the acting skills of this idiot.” “A death certificate that shows up now, of all times? It’s too convenient.” She cast a final glance at my barely breathing sister on the floor, turned, and didn’t hesitate. “Leave her there. If Owen doesn’t show up, don’t open that door for anyone.” My whole body trembled. I was already dead. Yet, in that moment, I felt the searing taste of a broken heart. I rushed over, kneeling before the woman who couldn’t see me. “No! Don’t do this!” “Save my sister! She’s dying!” Lily was being ravaged by an unstoppable fever. Now, without food or water, she wouldn’t last. But no one could hear my cries. I could only watch as the door slammed shut again. I stood there, spinning in frantic, useless circles. Then, I heard a faint whisper. “Brother.” It was Lily calling me. I flew to her side and saw her eyes flutter open. She was looking in my direction, her eyes bloodshot. “Brother, is that you?” Before I could speak, she smiled faintly. “I must be seeing things. Brother hasn’t come back yet.” She reached out a hand. “Brother, Lily hurts so much. I can’t hang on anymore.” She closed her eyes again. This time, no matter how desperately I called her name, she didn’t answer. And just beyond that closed door, I heard Sloan, using a tone of voice I had never heard before, speaking to Travis. “Don’t be afraid, Travis. I’m here. No one will ever hurt you again.” “I promise you, I’ll drag him out and make him kneel before you and apologize.” Hearing that, my heart was utterly still. The pain had finally numbed me. Before my parents’ accident, Sloan and I had grown up together, inseparable. The year the crash happened, and my uncle stole our company, I fell apart. Sloan held my hand and promised she would always stand by me. I thought that was forever. But when Travis Miller appeared, her focus slowly shifted away from me. He was the scholarship student our family had sponsored. Even after my parents died and my uncle took everything, I still scrimped and saved to help pay for his university education. Yet, he spread lies that I abused him, starved him of living expenses. I became the villain in everyone’s eyes. Even Sloan began to favor Travis. Looking at Sloan’s profile now, I had a sudden, morbid curiosity. Would she regret my death when she finally knew the truth? 2 Sloan used every connection she had, but she couldn’t find a single trace of me. That crumpled death certificate was the only lead. In the hospital, the scent of antiseptic was acrid. Sloan marched straight to the doctor on duty. “Have you had anyone brought in recently from the downtown gambling dens?” How ridiculous. The den was practically on Sloan’s territory. She could have freed me with a single word. Instead, she let me be tortured. The doctor pushed up his glasses, recalling the case. “Yes, about five or six days ago. A young man. He was already beyond help when they brought him in.” “It was gruesome. Almost every bone in his body was broken. All ten fingernails had been pulled out. His skin… there wasn’t a single clean patch.” “He died from massive blood loss and organ failure. We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save him.” Sloan’s heart plummeted. Her fingers went icy cold. “What… what did he look like?” The doctor shook his head sympathetically. “His face was unrecognizable, damaged beyond repair. He seemed like a tough one, though. Didn’t cry out once, even at the end.” “It couldn’t have been him.” Sloan abruptly cut him off. “He’s not that strong. He’s not that tough.” Sloan desperately tried to convince herself. But deep inside, something began to fracture. She all but fled the hospital, driving back to the house where Lily was imprisoned. She pushed the door open. A suffocating silence. She rushed to the basement. The steel door was slightly ajar. Lily was curled in the corner. Her clothes were torn and disheveled. The exposed skin was covered in vivid bruises. She was hugging herself tightly, her eyes vacant, her body uncontrollably shaking. Standing over her, Travis’s clothes were rumpled. What had happened was clear to anyone with eyes. My spectral eyes went blood red. All my ghostly composure evaporated. I wanted to devour his flesh and drink his blood. Travis quickly offered an explanation. “Sloan, you have to believe me. I didn’t do anything.” “I was just so worried about her. I came down to give her some water, and the second I walked in, she started taking her clothes off.” “Lily isn’t right in the head. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. How could she accuse me of something like that?” It was a transparent lie, yet Sloan believed him instantly. “Disgusting!” She took several steps forward and delivered a vicious slap across Lily’s face. Lily was already terribly weak. The impact sent her tumbling to the ground, her forehead smashing hard against one of the broken signet ring fragments. Lily lay on the floor, instantly losing consciousness. Sloan finally panicked. She ordered the bodyguards to rush Lily to the hospital. They had barely arrived when they ran right into the leader of the gambling operation. “Well, well. Ms. Beckett, didn’t know you knew this little lady.” Sloan leaned against the wall, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. “What are you talking about?” The loan shark licked his lips. “Gotta say, she’s simple, but she put on quite a show for the guys, trying to get her brother’s ashes back.” “Shame, her brother—Owen Reed, was it?—didn’t have the stomach for it. Tapped out in a few days. But this little dummy, she was resilient. Kept the boys company for three days and three nights.” “What are you saying?” Sloan’s voice was high-pitched and sharp. The casino men exchanged amused glances, snickering. “Did Ms. Beckett forget? It was you who personally delivered Owen Reed to us.” “A debt’s a debt. The kid just had soft bones, couldn’t take it, and died.” “The simple one, though, she was loyal. Just had to get that box of ashes back…” “Impossible!” Sloan stumbled back, hitting the wall. Just then, the light above the operating room flickered off. The doctor walked out, pulling down his mask, his face expressionless. “I’m sorry. She was brought in too late. Severe internal hemorrhage combined with high fever. The trauma was too much. We couldn’t save her.” Sloan froze completely. After a long moment, she violently grabbed the doctor’s collar.

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I was about to start the board meeting when the new intern sat at the head of the table. She told me I was unqualified to be CEO and demanded I step down. She claimed that as a woman, I was only good for a political marriage, not for inheriting the family empire. She also announced she was pregnant with my father’s son, and that everything in the company belonged to her unborn child. A shareholder stood up, furious. “Security! Drag this crazy woman out!” But she calmly displayed a family photo on the big screen. In the photo, she was wearing a wedding dress, my father’s arm around her, standing behind my grandparents. Then she accused the shareholder and me of having an affair, claiming we had imprisoned my father just to embezzle the company’s assets. I rushed up and slapped her across the face. She immediately video-called my father to complain. My father roared through the phone, calling me unfilial for hitting my stepmother and demanding I kneel and apologize. I was stunned. My father died in a plane crash five years ago. I identified the body myself. 1 “Chloe Vance, your father wants me to take over as CEO.” Jessica Miller crossed her legs, twirling her hair while speaking in a provocative tone: “Since you’re a daughter, you’re only useful for marriage alliances, not for inheriting the business.” “Now that I’m carrying your father’s son—the only male heir of the Vance family—your father said the company is mine to manage.” Listening to this absurdity, I couldn’t help but ask: “My father died five years ago. Did you not do any research before coming here to cause trouble?” Five years ago, my father went on a business trip abroad and died in a plane crash. When I arrived, all that was left was a charred body. Though I couldn’t believe it, I had to accept the facts. I watched him being pushed into the crematorium. I buried him with my own hands. Five years later, someone claims to be pregnant with his child? How is that possible? Even if it were his, has she been pregnant for five years? Everyone in the conference room looked at Jessica with disbelief. New employees whispered in the corners, but most people looked at her like she was insane. The accident was huge news back then. Every major media outlet reported it. The company’s management knew clearly about my father’s death. If I hadn’t taken over back then, Vance Corp would have been eaten alive by competitors. Uncle Zhang, my father’s former partner, couldn’t help but speak up: “I saw Robert’s body. It was burned beyond recognition. I helped his niece handle the funeral. How could he have a child with you?” My assistant, sensing the mood, stepped forward to ask Jessica to leave. Suddenly, she stood up, lifted her shirt to reveal a baby bump, and pointed righteously at the assistant. “I’m pregnant! You can’t touch me!” Everyone froze. No one dared to use force on a pregnant woman. I looked at Jessica coldly and said: “My father has been dead for five years. Everyone here knows it. I don’t care whose child you’re carrying, but it’s impossible to be my father’s.” “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police!” Jessica sneered. “Tch. That’s just your side of the story. Who here attended your father’s funeral?” “I’m here today to get justice for your father!” As soon as she said this, whispers started, and people looked at me with suspicion. I was angry but helpless. Recovering my father’s body from the crash site had taken days. Because of the delay and condition of the body, the funeral was very simple, known only to the closest family members. A memorial service was held three years later. “Speechless, right?” Jessica looked at me triumphantly. “Do you have evidence that it’s my father’s child?” I asked curiously. “Hmph, I knew you wouldn’t cry until you saw the coffin. This is the disownment letter your father wrote!” Jessica slammed a document on the table. I picked it up immediately, wanting to end this farce. But when I saw the signature, my mind went blank. It was my father’s handwriting, stamped with his personal seal. But my father has definitely been dead for five years. What is going on? 2 Looking at Jessica’s arrogant face, a doubt surged in my heart. Did my father come back from the dead? But that’s impossible. Uncle Zhang looked at the document and frowned. “This isn’t right. Robert’s seal was buried with him.” I remembered. All my father’s personal items were buried with him. Including his personal seal. Handwriting can be forged, but to get the seal, someone would have to rob the grave. Uncle Zhang was experienced. He quickly deduced everything. He took out his phone and called the cemetery manager. “Check Robert Vance’s grave. See if it’s been disturbed.” The manager replied quickly: “Mr. Zhang, please wait a moment. I’ll check right now.” Uncle Zhang hung up and tossed the asset transfer document aside. “Little girl, Robert is dead. His seal was voided. Even if someone robbed the grave, this document is invalid.” Soon, the manager sent a video of the grave. Uncle Zhang played it. My father’s grave was intact. Not robbed. So how did she get the stamp? I stared at the video, lost in thought. Jessica glanced at the screen, her face twisting into a hideous expression. She snatched Uncle Zhang’s phone and smashed it on the floor. Smash! The screen shattered into a spiderweb. “Chloe Vance, you’re really something! To steal the company, you conspired with outsiders to build a fake grave!” “Are you two sleeping together?” “Zhang, you have no shame, sleeping with your partner’s daughter.” She pointed at us and cursed. Uncle Zhang, over fifty years old, turned red with rage at being insulted by a young girl. “The airline notified Robert’s niece to identify the body. We even did DNA testing. It was undoubtedly Robert.” “Do you think we wouldn’t know these things?” I couldn’t help but remind her. “Jessica, were you scammed?” Unexpectedly, this sentence poked the hornet’s nest. She became even more agitated. “You are the biggest liars!” “You lied to everyone saying your dad died, but he’s alive! You’ve been keeping him prisoner in the old mansion!” “Once I control the company, everyone will know about your collusion!” I couldn’t tolerate Jessica’s nonsense anymore. I shouted, “Enough!” “I don’t care where you heard these lies or whose child you’re carrying.” “This has nothing to do with me or Vance Corp. But I will investigate where you got that seal!” Instead of waking up, she sneered sarcastically. “You adulterous couple are scared now.” “You think I don’t have proof? Fine, look at this!” She took out her phone, opened the gallery, and shoved it in my face. Looking at the photo on the screen, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. It was a photo taken inside the Vance family estate. Jessica was wearing loungewear, relaxing on the sofa. On the table sat my father’s favorite antique vase, worth millions. What shocked me more was the next photo— She lifted her shirt to reveal her pregnant belly, and a smiling man was leaning close to it. It was my father, who had been dead for five years. My face turned ashen instantly. 3 Seeing that photo, I felt nauseous. I suppressed my anger and asked, “How did you get into my house? Who is this man?” She laughed contemptuously. “How else? Your dad let me in.” She held out her right hand. On her finger was a jade thumb ring. “Recognize this?” My heart clenched. That was the Vance family heirloom ring. My father used to joke that if he couldn’t give me a brother, he’d take this ring to his grave. After his accident, I really buried it with him as a funerary object. But now, it was on Jessica’s hand. I stared at the jade ring, rage boiling in my chest. “Take it off! That’s the Vance family heirloom. How do you have it?” I shouted sternly and reached out to grab it. Jessica dodged nimbly. She wagged her finger smugly. “Your dad put this on me personally.” “He said it’s the family treasure, to be passed down to our son.” “Besides, you’re just a girl. What right do you have to compete with my son?” “The Vance family assets belong to my son. Even if you steal them, you’ll have to give them back.” “Can you afford to pay if you lose such a precious item?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I lunged to snatch the ring. Jessica dodged suddenly. I fell hard onto the floor, my elbow hitting a chair. I gasped in pain. She, on the other hand, lay on the floor and started wailing. “Murder! Chloe Vance is killing people!” “To steal the inheritance, she’s killing her unborn brother!” Jessica’s scene made everyone look at me strangely. They had seen her evidence and started to believe her, pointing fingers at me. “CEO Vance is ruthless. Imprisoning her dad, conspiring to steal the family fortune…” “The Vance family raised an ungrateful wolf. Looks like we have to cancel our contracts with Vance Corp.” “But she is capable. Expanded the company several times in a few years.” “Who knows if Zhang helped her? Serves him right for doing all the work for someone else!” Uncle Zhang was slandered as having an affair with me. Partners demanded to cancel contracts. He couldn’t defend himself, so he turned to Jessica. “Miss, I have no grudge against you. Why slander me?” Jessica climbed up from the floor, smugly saying: “Who’s slandering you? It’s a fact you two are sleeping together.” “Also, I called the police when I arrived. You adulterous couple wait for jail.” Then Jessica made a video call. “Honey, what’s wrong? Is Chloe bullying you?” The voice from the phone made my eyes wet. It really was my father’s voice. I snatched the phone and saw the man on the screen. I couldn’t believe it was real. But the man’s face changed instantly. “Chloe Vance, you have the face to see me? You locked me in the mansion for five years. If not for Jessica, I wouldn’t know when I’d get out.” “Resign immediately! Let Jessica take over!” “And Zhang, taking advantage of my injury to say I died. I will settle this score with him!” Jessica snatched the phone back, arrogant. “Hubby, these dogs are terrible. They still won’t step down.” I finally lost it and slapped her face. Jessica clutched her cheek, looking at me in disbelief. “You dare hit me?” “Do you know who I am? Technically, I’m your mother! Your father’s child is in my belly!” She cried, screaming hysterically: “Come to the company quickly! Your daughter is killing me!” “You wait! When your dad gets here, I’ll have him kick you out first!” I slapped her again. Gritting my teeth, I said, “My father is dead. How can that man be my father?” She sneered. “If he’s dead, how did he sleep with me? How did I get pregnant with the Vance heir?” I froze. If that man isn’t my father, how does he look exactly like him, sound exactly like him? Who is orchestrating this? What is their goal? I wanted to question Jessica, but Uncle Zhang stopped me. “Wait for him to come. Let’s see if it’s really Robert. If not, I won’t spare them!” Just then, a squad of police officers pushed open the door. “Chloe Vance, David Zhang. We received a report that you imprisoned Vance Group CEO Robert Vance.” “Please come with us.” I was shocked. Uncle Zhang was furious. “Do you have evidence? I’ll file a complaint for false arrest!” Uncle Zhang was quickly subdued and pinned to the table. “Since we are here, we have evidence.” They showed their badges and the report evidence. Photos were spread out, all showing my father in the Vance estate. Jessica seized the moment. “I also want to report that Chloe Vance conspired with David Zhang to build a fake grave for my husband.” “They are having an affair and want to steal Vance Group!” “Just now, Chloe Vance assaulted a pregnant woman, almost causing a miscarriage!” I felt cold all over. Uncle Zhang shouted about injustice to no avail. The evidence was there. We had to be taken away. The conference room was chaotic. Some gloated, some rushed to distance themselves. In an instant, Uncle Zhang and I became public enemies. Suddenly, Jessica rushed towards the door. “Hubby, you’re finally here!” Everyone looked. The room went silent. When I saw the person clearly. I froze too. It was him?

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Gabriel was hosting a birthday dinner for his “White Moonlight”—the one who got away—at the restaurant where I worked. He tipped every staff member generously. I stood in the line-up, bowing with everyone else. “Happy Birthday, Ms. Sterling.” “Wishing you both a long and happy life together.” Gabriel looked at me for two seconds longer than necessary, but said nothing. After work, I wrapped my puffer jacket tight and walked onto the snowy streets of Manhattan. I remembered the day I found out I was pregnant. My friend Sarah had urged me: “Don’t rush to get rid of it. How do you know Gabriel won’t want it?” “Anyone with eyes can see he’s spoiled you rotten these past few years.” “Just tell him. Maybe he’ll propose on the spot.” The indulgence of the last few years had made me delusional for a moment, thinking we might have a future. I sighed silently. I took out my phone and booked an abortion appointment. 1 Until they finished their meal. Gabriel didn’t seem to notice my presence. Or maybe the grand piano blocked me from his view. I was a part-time pianist here. Even though Gabriel gave me a $50,000 allowance every month. My “sugar baby” contract with him was expiring in a month. I would need to find a real job soon. Adapting to society a bit early was tough, but necessary. Before they left, the manager nudged me forward. “Mr. Vance’s girlfriend praised the birthday setup. He’s very happy and tipping everyone $1,000.” “Go on, thank him with the others. Say something nice.” There was no escape. I stood up and joined the line of servers. Gabriel glanced up casually. Then, his gaze slowly locked onto me. I kept my head down, bowing in unison with the others. “Happy Birthday, Ms. Sterling.” “Wishing you both happiness and a long life together.” Serena Sterling rested her chin on her hand, smiling radiantly. “Thank you all.” “But you’ve misunderstood. We aren’t a couple.” She glanced at Gabriel subconsciously. “What’s wrong? What are you looking at?” Gabriel withdrew his gaze indifferently. “Nothing.” 2 Gabriel had booked the entire restaurant for the evening for Serena. So after they left, we could clock out. Pianists have specific performance gowns. I changed back into my own down jacket in the locker room. My hand instinctively reached into my pocket. I touched a piece of paper and froze. I walked to the bus stop before pulling out the warm, crumpled paper. It was the pregnancy test result from a week ago. It read: Positive. Estimated 8 weeks. 3 Hospital hallway. After the initial shock and panic of finding out I was pregnant, my first reaction was to book an abortion. Sarah stopped me. “What are you doing?” “The contract with Gabriel says: accidental pregnancy means immediate termination.” She poked my forehead in frustration. “Are you the only person in the world who strictly follows that stupid sugar baby contract?” “Anyone can see Gabriel spoils you to death now.” “What sugar baby gets treated like this?” She counted on her fingers. “Last time you went to Boston for a concert and there was a blizzard? He couldn’t reach you, went crazy, canceled all his meetings, and drove seven hours to find you.” “He drove through a storm when planes were grounded. Did you forget?” Sarah listed three examples in a row. I listened quietly, my fingers rubbing the paper. She took a deep breath and concluded. “At least ask Gabriel for his attitude.” “In my opinion, he won’t let you get rid of it. He might even be happy enough to propose.” My friend’s interruption made me miss the clinic’s hours. Plus, I had been busy this week. I had almost forgotten about it. Sarah said to ask for Gabriel’s attitude. Serena’s appearance was his answer. I took out my phone and rescheduled the abortion for next week. The bus arrived. My reflection in the window was calm. No ripples. Giving up on something turned out to be this simple. I got on the bus and found a seat. Suddenly, I felt that loving Gabriel was something that belonged to a previous lifetime. 4 Junior year of college. Several classmates and I interned at Vance Group. Gabriel treated me with special care. But he also seemed to avoid getting too close. I suffered daily from the uncertainty. I overheard the truth by accident. I went to deliver files to Gabriel. Before knocking, I heard my name mentioned inside. My hand froze in mid-air. “Gabe, you’re using that little girl, Nora, as a stand-in for Serena, aren’t you?” “Don’t deny it. The face isn’t similar, but that vibe she has… it’s definitely there.” Gabriel spoke: “Not really similar.” His friend continued: “True, she can’t compare to Serena. Serena is so noble.” “You fought your family for her, finally got them to accept her, and she dumped you to pursue her ‘art dreams’ in Paris.” Gabriel was silent. His friend advised: “But if you think Nora is okay, just keep her around. I can’t stand seeing you look like a lost soul anymore.” “Besides, you can tell that little girl really likes you.” I stood there, numbly listening to everything. Reason told me to stay away from Gabriel. But the pain of sudden withdrawal came like waves, drowning me. So, when Gabriel pushed the “arrangement” contract toward me, I was silent. Gabriel assumed I refused and nodded gentlemanly. “I apologize. I overstepped.” I snapped back to reality. I took the pen, signed, and smiled. “No, I was just shocked by the amount you offered.” I brainwashed myself: I’m with Gabriel for the money. I don’t like him at all.

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I was born with a certain deficiency, a lack of social radar. When people speak, I take them at their literal word. As a child, my cousin tried to snatch my favorite toy and declared, “If I can’t take this, I’ll just die right here.” So, I handed him a butter knife and, ever the helpful one, even pointed out the location of his femoral artery and dialed 911. My ex-boyfriend once whispered, “Without you, I can’t breathe. I’ll suffocate.” I promptly held his head under the swimming pool water for three minutes, purely to test the limits of human physiology. That tendency is how I found myself facing my supposedly “good-guy” husband, Grant, as he brought our neighbor, Sierra, and her son home for dinner. At the dining table, Sierra served the boy, then Grant, smiling with a saccharine sweetness that made my teeth hurt. “Oh, look how much Leo and Grant resemble each other,” she cooed. “Anyone would think we were the family unit. Oh, wait, Anya, don’t mind me, it’s just silly talk from a tired mom.” I put down my fork, my expression blank, and reached for my car keys. “I don’t mind.” “We’re going to the clinic now for a paternity test. If it’s true, I’ll file for bigamy against Grant. If it’s false, I’ll sue you for defamation.” “Also, Grant, to prevent any such future confusion, you’ll schedule a vasectomy tomorrow. We agreed to be childfree, and whoever breaks that oath is dead to me.” 1 Grant Abbott brought Sierra Davis and her son back to Stonegate Estates while I was in the living room, reviewing the quarterly earnings report by the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Anya, honey, look who’s here!” Grant’s voice held an unnaturally high pitch of forced excitement. I looked up. There were three figures at the front door. Grant was struggling with two overflowing grocery bags. Sierra wore a faded, slightly stained floral sundress and clutched the hand of a five-year-old boy named Leo. Leo was holding a grimy soccer ball and staring, wide-eyed, at the six-figure Murano crystal chandelier illuminating our entryway. “Oh, Mrs. Wells, you’re home?” Sierra offered a nervous, self-deprecating laugh, smoothing down her already slicked-back hair. “I just ran into Grant at the market. He said he was making Australian lobster and insisted Leo and I come over. I hope… I hope we’re not intruding?” I closed my laptop, my gaze landing on Grant. He kicked off his shoes and gave me a frantic, pleading look. “Her building has a water shut-off, honey. The management said it’s out until tomorrow. A single mom, can’t even cook dinner. We’re neighbors, Anya. We help each other out.” A typical wife might have forced a smile to save her husband’s face. I simply looked at my wristwatch. “The HOA email notification stated the water shut-off for Section A was from nine a.m. to eleven a.m. today. Service has been restored for seven hours.” I stated the facts calmly. “Also, Grant, I am severely allergic to shellfish. We haven’t had lobster in this house since we moved in. If your purchase is for guests, please ensure it is cooked and consumed in the back kitchen. I will not have that allergen in the dining room.” The air seized up, the silence a weapon. Sierra’s shaky smile disappeared. She immediately pivoted to a look of wounded, doe-eyed martyrdom, gazing down at Leo. “Oh dear. It seems I misremembered the time. Leo, sweetie, we should leave. We don’t want to upset the lady of the house.” Leo, oblivious to the adult subtext, wailed at the thought of leaving. He threw himself onto the floor, rolling wildly on the antique Persian Tabriz rug. “No! I want the big lobster! Grant promised big lobster!” That last word, “Grant,” sounded strangely loud, echoing the name of a father figure. Grant’s face flushed crimson, not from shame, but from sheer panic. He grabbed Sierra’s arm. “Don’t you dare leave! You’re here now! Anya is just stressed from work, she doesn’t mean it. I’m the man of this house. Don’t I have the right to invite two neighbors over for dinner?” He turned to me, a note of accusation creeping into his voice. “Anya, seriously? Sierra is a single mom, trying her best. Can’t you just not eat the lobster? Why do you have to be so ridiculously difficult, especially in front of a child?” I looked at the wailing, grubby child currently grinding dirt into our seven-thousand-dollar rug and at Grant’s sudden, rare burst of entitled masculinity. I rose slowly from the sofa. “If the man of the house has made a decision, I respect it. The rug cleaning fee is seven thousand, five hundred dollars. I will deduct it from your monthly allowance.” Grant clenched his jaw, swallowing his retort. The dinner was bizarre. Grant, apron tied around his waist, sweated in the kitchen, while Sierra made herself perfectly at home. She knew exactly which spot in the high-end disinfection cabinet held the formal silverware and, worse, accurately located Grant’s bespoke Italian espresso cup to pour Leo some juice. “Anya, please, don’t just sit there,” Sierra chirped, placing a piece of Grant’s braised short rib onto my plate. “Grant’s cooking is amazing. Whoever married him is… oh, I mean, you’re a very lucky woman, Mrs. Wells.” As if that wasn’t enough, she fed another piece of the meat to Leo, then turned her full, misty-eyed attention to Grant, who had just emerged with the finished lobster. In the soft glow of the dining room chandelier, her eyes became hazy, her mouth curved into a suggestive smile. “Look at them,” she murmured, gesturing from Leo to Grant. “The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it? Especially the nose. It’s like they were cut from the same mold.” She covered her mouth, a small, silver-bell laugh escaping her lips, her eyes flicking between me and Grant. “Anyone would think we were a family unit. Oh, darling, please don’t mind me, it’s just a silly joke.” Grant’s hand, holding the lobster platter, visibly shook, and a few drops of butter sauce spattered the linen tablecloth. He shot me a desperate glance and attempted a weak chuckle. “Sierra, come on. It was just a casual comment. Anya, why are you looking so intense?” I placed my chopsticks down and slowly pulled a moist towelette from the dispenser, using it to meticulously clean each finger. The movement was painfully deliberate, drawing out the tension until Grant’s forced cheer evaporated, and Sierra began to fidget. “I don’t mind,” I repeated, my voice even. I tossed the used wipe into the small, built-in trash receptacle and looked up at them. “Since Ms. Davis proposed a hypothesis, and Grant, you failed to immediately refute it, I have a logical basis to suspect this is a fact-based trial balloon.” I retrieved my keys from my handbag and stood. “We are going to the hospital now. If Leo is your biological child, it raises critical issues regarding the preservation of my assets as your legal spouse and the succession risk to The Wells Group shares. Bigamy is not merely a moral issue; it is a felony.” “If it is false, Ms. Davis, your comments constitute defamation against both Grant and myself, as well as malicious interference with my marital contract. I will have my attorneys serve you with a formal notice to pursue legal damages.” 2 Grant froze, and the lobster platter slipped from his grasp, crashing to the floor. Leo was startled, letting out a piercing, terror-stricken cry. “Anya Wells, have you lost your mind?” Grant shrieked, pointing a furious finger at me. “Over one innocent joke? You’d drag us to a hospital? How humiliating is that for Sierra? How am I supposed to hold my head up in this neighborhood again?” Sierra was also panicking. She hugged Leo, tears springing to her eyes immediately. “Mrs. Wells, I’m so sorry, I spoke too fast… Grant and I are completely innocent! How can you be so cruel? Leo is just a child!” She sobbed into the boy’s hair, sending a frantic, helpless look Grant’s way. “Cruel?” I took out my phone and tapped an app, executing a few quick commands. “Verifying innocence is the single greatest protection of one’s reputation. If you are innocent, the paternity report is your most powerful weapon. Why would you fear it?” “I’ve already ordered an emergency, in-home sampling service from Precision Diagnostics. Since you find the clinic humiliating, they will come here. The rush fee is double, which I will cover.” “I won’t do it!” Grant roared, the veins bulging on his neck. “This is an insult to my character! Anya, you disappoint me. After three years of marriage, is this who you think I am?” “Data doesn’t lie, people do.” I walked over to the front door, engaged the deadbolt, and leaned against the frame, crossing my arms. “No one is leaving until the sampling technicians arrive. Should you attempt to force your way out, I will take Ms. Davis’s comment as a de facto statement of truth. In thirty minutes, The Wells Group legal team will formally intervene and freeze all joint accounts.”

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The Stanton Confessions Board blew up with an anonymous post. No photo, just a block of text dripping with passive aggression: [Saw the girl I’ve been crushing on for a year get into a Maybach outside the campus gates. Guess I should’ve known she wasn’t worth my heart.] [Some of these campus ‘queens’ really know how to leverage their assets to skip twenty years of the grind and jump straight into a penthouse apartment.] [Meanwhile, guys like us are eating the ten-dollar cafeteria special while the gold-diggers are sipping on thirty-dollar Starbucks lattes.] [P.S. I looked up the car. The owner is a fifty-something dude, married, family man. Some people better watch their backs.] The post instantly rocketed to the top of the trending list. The comment section was a storm of outrage: “Don’t worry, man, she’s not worth it!” “Which college? Spill the tea, dude! Can’t stand gold-diggers!” The anonymous poster replied with a mock sigh: “Hey, let’s give the girl some privacy. I won’t drop the name.” “I’m just disappointed. I really thought she was different. I mean, she walks around acting like a total angel, but behind the scenes… ugh.” I read the thread right after stepping out of the shower. My roommate, Piper Reynolds, leaned over my shoulder, face mask slipping slightly. “Izzy, look at this… that description sounds kind of like you, doesn’t it?” She blinked. “Wasn’t there a black sedan that picked you up last Friday when it was raining?” I paused, the towel in my hand stilling. That was my family’s driver. 1 The next morning, in my 8 AM Architectural History lecture, I felt the atmosphere shift immediately. A few guys in the back row kept glancing over, whispering, and letting out these little, smug chuckles. I sat down, and my phone vibrated. A new message popped up in our college group chat. It was the anonymous poster. “Some people acting like nothing happened, huh?” He tagged everyone in the class. “Fine, I’ll name names.” “@ArchitectureMajorIsabelleVaughan.” “Last Friday, 4 PM, East Gate. Black Maybach S680, license plate ends in 888. Do I need to post the video?” The group chat went dead for three seconds, then exploded. “Wait, seriously, it’s her?” “She always seemed so… wholesome.” “A Maybach S680? That’s like, half a million dollars, easy.” “No wonder she never went to any of the mixers. She thought we were peasants.” My fingers were ice cold, trembling as I typed: “That is my father’s car. Do you have a problem?” He instantly replied: “Here we go! The classic ‘it’s my dad’ line!” “Why don’t you just say it’s your sugar daddy?” “I did my research. The owner’s name is Davies, fifty-something, real estate mogul. Isabelle Vaughan, did your dad change his name?” I froze. Mr. Davies was indeed the family driver, and he’d been with us for over a decade. But how was I supposed to explain that? Saying “he’s my family’s chauffeur” would sound even more like a pathetic cover story. Seeing my silence, the poster’s bravado surged: “Nothing to say now? Fine. Be a gold-digger, be a mistress, but don’t act like a holier-than-thou saint.” “Just so you know, that guy has a wife and kids. Pull back before you wreck a family!” Piper Reynolds chimed in: “Guys, let’s not be so harsh on Izzy… maybe she’s just covering her rent with creative side hustles.” “Society’s tough these days. You have to respect a woman for taking shortcuts… right?” I almost laughed, the fury turning my insides to ice. I rushed to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, trying to calm down. But I heard distinct voices from the stall next to mine: “That’s her, huh? Looks so innocent.” “Innocent? Honey, she’s got a talent for leveraging that image. I heard Braden Miller chased her for a whole year, flowers, coffee runs, everything, and she wouldn’t even look at him. Turns out she was just holding out for bigger money.” “Poor Braden, feeding his heart to a beast.” “But wow, trading up for a guy old enough to be her grandfather… she’s got the stomach for anything, I guess.” I leaned against the stall door, feeling a chill run through me. Braden Miller. The guy I had explicitly rejected multiple times, who had then devolved into an irritating stalker. Now, he was the “heartbroken victim”? Back in the lecture hall, the atmosphere was suffocating. The class rep, Maria, came over, lowering her voice: “Izzy, Professor Martin wants to see you in his office.” In the office, Professor Martin’s face was grim. The Confessions Board page was up on his monitor. “Ms. Vaughan, this is a very poor look for the department. Several students and faculty have already brought it to my attention. The university is concerned. Can you explain this?” I waited. “Now, Braden, he was a little harsh with his words.” He adjusted his glasses. “But you have to see, stepping out of a car like that, on campus, it’s going to generate gossip, right? You have to consider appearances.” “So, it’s my fault?” I countered. He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m just saying, you need to be mindful of the impact. This is a conservative school. A young woman must protect her reputation…” I cut him off: “Professor Martin, Braden Miller publicly defamed me in a class-wide chat, accusing me of being a mistress. That’s grounds for disciplinary action, according to the student handbook.” Professor Martin’s smile froze. “Well… Izzy, Braden comes from a disadvantaged background. His parents are blue-collar workers, and he’s on a full-ride scholarship.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “If you pursue this, he’ll have a mark on his record. It could ruin his career prospects…” “So, because he’s poor, he has the right to spread slander?” I stared at him. “Don’t put words in my mouth!” Professor Martin snapped, his face hardening. “I’m trying to protect you! Your reputation is everything! Do you really want to drag this into the Dean’s office? The whole campus will know you stepped out of a luxury sedan—is that the narrative you want?” “That car belongs to my father’s comp—” “Enough!” He waved his hand impatiently. “It doesn’t matter who owns the car, you should have been more discreet! Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll make Braden apologize, and we’ll let this whole thing die down. Agreed?” “What if I don’t agree?” He glared at me. “Isabelle Vaughan! Why are you being so difficult? Do you want to take this to the Dean? I’m telling you, if this blows up, you will be the one who suffers the most!” My phone buzzed. I glanced down. It was a text from my father. “Izzy, I heard someone at school is giving you trouble? Do you need me to handle it?” I took a deep breath and replied: “No. I can handle it myself.” Then I looked up at Professor Martin. “Since you can’t resolve this, I will proceed in my own way.” “What… what are you going to do?” he called after me. I didn’t look back. 2 Almost instantly, my dad called. “Izzy, if you’re unhappy, just walk away. I’ll get the transfer papers ready. You can go to any school you want. Also, I recall Stellar Industries pledged a one-billion-dollar endowment to Stanton last year, correct? I think we should hold that up. A student body with this kind of toxic culture…” “Dad!” I interrupted quickly. “Don’t stop it.” My father paused. I inhaled, trying to keep my voice steady. “That money… there are students in my class who genuinely need it. Sarah’s mom has late-stage cancer. Mike worked construction all summer just to pay tuition. We can’t let those who actually need help lose hope just because of a couple of toxic people.” I hesitated, my voice dropping. “But the transfer, I do want to think about it. I… I can’t stay here.” After a long silence, my dad sighed. “If anyone lays a finger on you again, tell me. Money can be donated, and it can also be withdrawn.” Hanging up the phone, I finally felt a flicker of warmth. I opened my contacts and found Braden Miller’s number. “Braden, delete your defamatory post immediately and issue a public apology and factual clarification across all relevant platforms.” He sounded like he’d heard the funniest joke in the world, his voice spiking. “Isabelle Vaughan, are you delusional? Defamation? Everything I said is true! Everyone can see it!” “That was my father’s assigned driver!” My voice shook with anger. “Driver? Ha ha ha!” He burst into malicious laughter. “Keep spinning that yarn! Why don’t you say he’s your long-lost father? I’m telling you, I’ve seen countless vain girls who pretend to be pure. I was blind to think you were different! Turns out, you’re dirtier than the rest! At least they’re honest about the price. You? You want to have your cake and eat it too!” “This is slander!” I yelled. “Slander? Go ahead and sue me!” He sounded completely unconcerned, even thrilled by the confrontation. Then, he hung up. That night, the campus Confessions Board updated. It was an audio link with the caption: “Forced to apologize due to pressure. Sorry everyone, I shouldn’t have told the truth. Her ‘sugar daddy’ has too much power. A poor kid from a small town like me can’t fight them. [Crying emoji] Hope Ms. Vaughan and her people will take pity on me.” I clicked the link. It was a maliciously edited snippet of our conversation. The comment section was completely lost. “Oh my God, he’s such a victim!” “Isabelle Vaughan is a bully! Using her wealth and connections to threaten students?” “No wonder the professor wouldn’t touch it. She’s connected!” “@UniversityOfficial, do something! Protect Braden Miller!” I dragged my exhausted body back to the dorm. The moment I pushed the door open, a force shoved me backward. Piper Reynolds stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, flanked by the two other roommates, their faces cold and hostile. “Isabelle Vaughan, don’t you dare come in!” Piper’s voice was sharp. “You’ve been sleeping around, who knows what you’ve picked up? We don’t want your filth here!” “Seriously! Get out now!” “You’re disgusting! We actually thought we were friends!” The other two roommates chimed in, roughly pushing my suitcase out the door. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t let me speak. I watched helplessly as they shoved me out and slammed the door shut. I had no choice but to call Mr. Davies to come pick me up and take me home, making sure to ask him to drive a less conspicuous car. I slept for a day, feverish and heavy, finally waking up the next evening as the fever broke. I opened my phone. A new message was pinned to the top of the group chat: [Stellar Industries $1 Billion Poverty Relief Fund has been disbursed! Every student in this class is on the list, receiving $50,000 annually for the next four years!] 3 The chat exploded with cheers, dozens of screens flashing with “Thank you, Stellar Industries!” and “Best surprise ever!” Many of the quieter students posted with excitement, detailing how the money would relieve their family stress and allow them to focus purely on their studies. I was on the list, too. After an attempted kidnapping when I was a child, my father had insisted I maintain a low profile, so I was officially registered as a regular student, technically qualifying for the aid. Just then, two jarring messages cut through the noise. Braden Miller: “@ClassRep @ProfessorMartin I think this list needs a second look, don’t you? Some students clearly do not meet the ‘disadvantaged’ criteria, and some have serious moral issues. Giving them scholarships would be an insult to the donor’s intent. @IsabelleVaughan.” Piper Reynolds immediately backed him up: “Braden is right! Scholarships are for hard-working, needy students with good character! Some people are riding around in Maybachs and collecting poverty aid. That’s gross! I suggest we revoke @IsabelleVaughan’s eligibility, for the sake of integrity!” The previously festive atmosphere in the chat instantly froze. A few seconds later, someone tentatively posted: “…Honestly, Braden has a point.” “Izzy doesn’t look like she needs financial aid…” “And the character issues… that’s a bad look.” I stared at the screen, a profound exhaustion washing over me. I didn’t even have the energy to argue. I typed, then hit send: “I voluntarily forfeit my eligibility for this scholarship cycle. I wish everyone the best.” Then, I muted the group chat. The silence lasted less than two minutes. Piper Reynolds’ private message window started flashing wildly. I opened it. It was a selfie: Braden Miller, turning his head, kissing Piper on the cheek. Piper’s smile was saccharine, the caption cruel: “Braden says some people are born low, only fit to look up at other people’s happiness from the gutter. Oh, and I forgot to tell you—Braden’s not only top of the class, his family’s old house is in the new development zone. He’s major up-and-coming stock, babe. Some gold-diggers must be kicking themselves right now, huh? Too bad, you didn’t measure up.” I looked at the smug photo and the vicious text, completely unmoved. In fact, I felt a faint urge to laugh. I didn’t reply with a single punctuation mark. I blocked the number and deleted the contact. Clean. Decisive. The day of the relief fund distribution ceremony arrived. My father, as the CEO of Stellar Industries, was scheduled to speak at the university auditorium, which was packed with over thirty thousand students. I was submitting my transfer application paperwork to the advisor’s office and purposefully walked the long way around the main auditorium. Still, I ran right into Braden and Piper on a side corridor. “Well, well. Said no to the scholarship, but you’re still hanging around? Isn’t your sugar daddy giving you enough allowance?” Braden sneered, looking me up and down with open contempt. I didn’t want to engage and tried to step past them. Piper suddenly lunged forward, blocking my path, her voice shrill: “Isabelle Vaughan! How dare you show your face here? If it wasn’t for you, Braden wouldn’t be getting judged by everyone! You did this to him!” “Move.” I said, my voice cold. “Apologize to me!” Braden suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight. Piper stoked the fire beside him: “Braden, why are you being gentle with her? A tramp like this needs a lesson! Scratch her face off! Let’s see her try to seduce old men now!” Then, Braden seemed to completely lose control. He violently shoved me against the wall. Piper jumped at me too, her sharp nails aiming for my face and neck. “Bitch! You think you’re so great! I’ve been waiting to do this to you.” “I’ll beat you up! See if you can keep acting so pure!” “Tear her clothes off! Let everyone see what she really is!” I fought back desperately, but my fever-weakened body was no match for their manic assault. In the struggle, we slammed against the slightly ajar safety exit door, tumbling down a few steps. I hit the floor, my vision blurring, my bones screaming in protest. “Drag her up!” Piper shrieked. “Drag her into the auditorium! Let the whole school see what a wreck she is! Let’s see her try to stay here after this!” Braden grinned, a nasty, contorted look, and he and Piper grabbed me by my arms, roughly dragging me like a sack of trash. I had almost no strength left, my consciousness fading. They dragged me to the side entrance of the main auditorium. Inside, the lights were blinding, the hall packed, the ceremony in full swing. I stumbled and fell onto the smooth, cold marble floor, right in the center of countless converging gazes. For a split second, the entire auditorium fell silent. Then, I heard a loud crash from the stage—a microphone had been knocked over. In the final moments before I blacked out, I saw my father’s horrified figure racing towards me. His voice thundered, raw with rage: “It seems this university doesn’t need our endowment after all!”

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My stepbrother seemed to be bound to a System. He often complained to the System: [That woman made me hand-wash her clothes again.] [I have to heat milk for her every night.] [Her hands are so small, her slaps feel like tickles.] System: [What? She slapped you too? How are you going to take revenge?] My stepbrother said while drugging the milk: [Adding a little something to the milk to make her pupils lose focus.] 1 When Noah was brought in, I was selecting a nude model. I furrowed my brows, asking them to extend their hands. “Tsk, nails too long, no.” “Dirt under the nails, scram.” The male models I yelled away scattered. “Too fat, too dry.” “Adam’s apple too small.” “Nose bridge too flat.” “Not a virgin.” “Get out, get out, get out!” The butler chased after me to put on my shoes. Until I stepped on Noah’s instep with my bare foot. I looked him up and down and asked, “Are you a virgin?” Noah was stunned. He lowered his head, his face flushed red. His denim jacket was washed white, and so was his backpack. There was a smell of laundry detergent. Not too unpleasant. Good, this cheap stepbrother of mine was quite clean. “Extend your hand.” On the fair and slender knuckles were round, neatly trimmed nails. The butler advised from behind, “My eldest miss, he’s not here to audition, he’s your brother.” I tsked impatiently. Turned my head and asked the butler, “Is there a difference?” Is there a difference? His mom hooked up with my dad. If not for our family’s money, was it for my dad’s stubble? Now his mom hasn’t even entered the door yet, but she sent this baggage here first. The butler saw my “kind” eyes and shut up. I stood in front of Noah and ordered, “Take off your clothes.” His eyes were complex, and he didn’t move for a long time. My anger shot up instantly. I lifted his jacket and asked word by word, “You take it off or I take it off?” The butler seemed to want to stop me. I screamed and shouted, “I can’t allow unclean people into the house!” I grabbed Noah’s collar. Finally, after a while, he compromised. Jacket, white T-shirt. When he was about to take off his pants, he was silent for a while and finally asked, “Can you ask others to leave?” Troublesome. 2 After the prospective nude models left, he took off his trousers. Only a pair of boxers remained. I carefully examined him. His figure was slender and well-proportioned, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His muscle lines were smooth and full of power. His legs were long and straight, very youthful. No tattoos, no scars, combining strength and beauty. I reached out my cold hand and touched his abs. He shrank back, gasping for breath. His eyes were dark and obscure… Fingertips tracing the contours of his abs. Good, like a natural work of art. There was vigorous tension between the muscles, very suitable for figure sketching. Then chest muscles, abs, back muscles. I traced them all with my fingertips. He lowered his head, looking gloomy, not knowing what he was thinking. I was too lazy to care if it was a humiliating expression. I walked behind him, curled my fingers, and scratched his lumbar dimples. He groaned without warning, “You…” I snorted contemptuously. So useless. “Alright, put on your clothes. You can’t be this sensitive when you strip for sketching later.” I put on the slippers handed over by the butler. “My dad and your mom are not home now, so from now on you have to listen to me.” “It’s too late, I want to drink milk now.” Noah pursed his lips and stood still. Did he not figure out his status yet? Did he think he came here to be a young master? I winked at the butler, and Noah was dragged to the kitchen by the butler. A quarter of an hour later, Noah came to my room. Handed over a glass of milk. I just touched the cup wall and splashed the milk back. “It’s over 113 degrees Fahrenheit. Are you trying to scald me to death?” Noah was drenched from top to bottom, even his eyelashes were stained with pure milk, his eyes slightly shocked. He didn’t move. I said angrily, “What are you staring at? Reheat it.” 3 Before he left, I heard a slight electric current sound. I am very sensitive to all sounds. And I definitely didn’t hear it wrong. The electric current sound came from Noah’s body. Although it was a mechanical sound. But I still heard the words “vicious female supporting character”. Interesting. Another fifteen minutes later, Noah handed over a glass of milk again. I knocked on the dressing table and said, “I don’t want to drink it anymore, get out.” Noah didn’t speak, his face sunken, turned and left. Opened the door with one hand. Listening to the footsteps, he should be a little angry. Just then, I heard the electric current sound again: [Host, bear with this Beagle a little longer!] If Noah is the so-called host, I should be the vicious female supporting character in the System’s mouth. Vicious female supporting character plus Beagle persona. I laughed out loud. Being called a Beagle, could anyone expect me to be normal? The next day, Noah was reading in the study. I smiled and said, “Time to work.” Yesterday I measured with my hands. His figure simply fits human aesthetics too well. It is the best art piece. He lowered his head, his eyes covered by fine bangs. I couldn’t see his expression clearly and tsked. Sprayed a handful of hairspray in my hand, walked over and lifted his bangs up, grabbed a few times casually, and set the shape. Finally, he looked at me sternly. “Don’t move.” I ordered. I measured his facial proportions with my fingers, moving slowly on his skull. His breath hitched, and he didn’t move again. I reached out my other hand and held his neck. His Adam’s apple slid up and down in my palm, seeming to herald the vitality of life. I slowly rubbed his skull and neck. A weird feeling surged up. It seemed that with a gentle twist, he could forever remain in the youngest and most vivid state. I gently outlined on his thin lips, and his breathing stopped instantly. The tips of Noah’s ears turned red, and the electric current sound in his body seemed to be clamoring. [Female supporting character, don’t bully our host!] I patted his face and let go of him. Took him to the basement studio. Opened all the curtains to let the sunlight in. I opened the drawing board and paint box, mixing colors while saying to Noah, “Sit on the stool, take off all clothes.” I saw him half-close his eyes and take a deep breath. Took off his shirt and trousers. I pointed at his only remaining, fully stretched underwear with a paintbrush. Very impatiently: “What about this? Do you want me to help you take it off?” 4 Noah looked cold, his thin lips pressed into a straight line. Finally, he looked up, his dark and beautiful eyes looking straight at me. “No…” His voice was very unhappy. Rejecting me? But immediately I heard the electric current sound communicating with him. “Host, if you annoy this Beagle, you won’t be able to complete the mission.” He seemed to clench his fists. Finally, he compromised: “No need, I’ll do it myself.” I narrowed my eyes. So he has a mission. Satisfied, I sat five meters away from him. Sunlight hit Noah. Projecting the shade of the trees outside the window, natural shadows appeared on the muscles of the body. Very vivid appearance, worth recording. I held my breath, picked up the paintbrush, and gestured Noah’s body proportions in the air. From the angle Noah was sitting, the tree shade covered part of him. Plus the curve of the body folding, it just blocked some key parts. His expression improved slightly. Under the stare of my impatient eyes, Noah sat still for half an hour. The general outline of the body was drawn. “Chirp—” The sound of cicadas suddenly rang outside the window. My pen tip trembled. Accidentally touched the canvas, and my hand began to tremble unconsciously. I put down the paintbrush and wiped the fine sweat on my forehead. Reaching out fingers stained with paint, I caressed the outline of the human body just drawn. Tore it down, eyes flashing with almost fanatical light, and then tore the canvas to shreds under Noah’s puzzled gaze. The strength was great, so great that it seemed to tear the world into fragments in the next second. “Get out! Get out!” I screamed at Noah, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. “Nina, you…” He stood up immediately. Wearing nothing. It looked like he wanted to come over. But because he was wearing nothing, he paused in place. Although my body couldn’t help trembling, my strength was amazing. Tearing the canvas, stepping on the drawing board, throwing paint everywhere. I only had one thought, wanting to catch that cicada. Then throw it into the oil pan and fry it. Then crush it and air-dry it. But I couldn’t catch it, yet it was watching me all the time. Went crazy for a while, and the cicada sound finally quieted down. I also quieted down, leaving the studio as if nothing happened. Only Noah was left standing there silently, looking a bit complicated. He and the System inside him seemed to be frightened. I even heard the whimpering sound of the System, saying I was scarier than a Beagle.

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Three years after breaking up with my childhood sweetheart, my mother cooked his favorite meal: hairy crab. “Lily is coming over today. Don’t cause a scene with her.” Lily was the poor student my mother adored. Caleb was the boy I had loved for ten years. Seeing me sit silently in my wheelchair, my mother raised her voice, trying to mask her guilt: “Lily changed your college application back then for your own good. But becoming a war correspondent was your own choice. You can’t blame others.” I just smiled and said calmly: “Mm.” “I can’t reverse the past, but I am moving forward, after all.” 1 Seeing that I didn’t throw a tantrum or scream like I used to, my mother still wasn’t reassured. She continued to hammer her point: “Lily and Caleb have a great marriage. Don’t you dare become the third wheel. I can’t afford to lose that face.” My mother had always been like this. Always standing on the outsider’s side. Treating her own daughter like an enemy to be guarded against. Caleb met me first. We were neighbors, childhood sweethearts. We grew up holding hands. He kissed me under the jacaranda tree and confessed his love. We always liked each other. He said he would definitely marry me. But my mother, who was also my homeroom teacher, brought the impoverished student Lily home. From that day on, she permeated every corner of my world with Caleb. My mother took half the credit for this. Whether I went to the library or shopping with Caleb, she insisted I bring Lily along. She was even the witness at their wedding. I opened a bag of cucumber-flavored chips, my gaze indifferent. “Mom, if you’re so worried, why force me to come back here to recover?” “You ungrateful girl, your wings have hardened, dare to talk to me like that?” She habitually raised her hand, wanting to poke my forehead. I turned my head to dodge. Someone was punching in the code at the door. My mother switched to a smiling face and went to welcome them. 2 Lily and Caleb walked in, fingers interlaced. “Ms. Yan, I can smell the food! Sorry we’re late, couldn’t help you out.” “Good children, come in quickly. I made Caleb’s favorite hairy crab, and your favorite scrambled eggs with onions.” Entering the living room, they seemed to finally notice my existence. Lily, just like the first time she came to my house, subconsciously shrank back. As if I were some monster that eats people. My mother glared at me, signaling me not to put on a cold face and to greet the guests. I didn’t move. Caleb instinctively looked at my foot wrapped in thick gauze, his tone concerned. “Zoe, is your injury better?” I nodded politely. At the table, my mother seated them in the best positions to reach the dishes, then ordered me: “Go to the fridge and get the mango juice. It’s Lily’s favorite.” Lily glanced at me and spoke awkwardly: “Ms. Yan, no need.” “Are you worried about her leg? Ignore it. She deserved it, running off to such a chaotic place abroad.” “No, it’s just that I can’t drink cold things today, and I can’t eat crab either.” Lily touched her lower abdomen, looking shyly at Caleb, announcing she was pregnant, just three months along. Caleb lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable. My mother was more excited than if she were pregnant herself, rattling off a list of precautions, wishing she could have Lily move back here to rest. “I still kept your room. Caleb won’t be home for lunch, you can come over to eat and nap.” My home was a small three-bedroom apartment. The day after Lily moved in, my mother used the excuse that Lily had suffered too much as a child to give her my sunny room. During her four years of college, Lily studied in the city and came back often. So, I didn’t move back into the room that originally belonged to me. I still lived in the small room without windows. Seeing I didn’t react, Lily asked cautiously: “Zoe, are you staying for good this time? Ms. Yan says she doesn’t miss you, but she often looks at your photos on social media!” “I so envy you photographing the scars of war in ancient Syrian cities, and chasing armed evacuations in the Libyan desert.” “Unlike me, I can only be a useless person pampered by Caleb. It feels like high school again, with Ms. Yan and Caleb giving me special treatment!” 3 In the past, I was easily provoked by Lily’s “green tea” bitch words. Because the way my mother treated Lily showed me she had a gentle, maternal side. Unlike the extreme strictness she showed me. I am allergic to onions. But my mother loves them. To test my obedience, for an entire summer vacation, the dining table only had white rice and various dishes stir-fried with onions. Even the chicken soup had to have a few onion petals thrown in. Born into a single-parent family, I never met my biological father. My mother never let me mention him. To what extent? The kind where a mention would earn me an immediate slap in the face. When I was wronged, only Caleb comforted me. For a long time, I had a deep attachment to him. The year I was punished by the onion family, I was ten. Caleb’s parents did business out of town, so he asked his grandma to make me egg fried rice. Since then, I became his little glutton. His pockets were filled with milk, strawberry cakes, and spicy strips, feeding me until I was full. We agreed to go to Beijing University together, marry upon graduation, and let Grandma hold a great-grandson early. Until my mother brought Lily home. Her family was very poor. She tested into the city from a remote mountain area with great effort. My mother admired her perseverance, stopped my guzheng lessons, and paid her tuition and tutoring fees. I hated Lily, always using her pitiful look to win my mother’s sympathy. I never initiated conversation with her. Caleb patted my head, promising to always stand by my side. Until that day after school, he saw Lily squatting on the playground eating pickles with cold rice. At that moment, his expression was complex, shocked, and unbearable. But at my house, my mother cooked Lily’s favorite pasta dishes in various ways. There was no way she wasn’t full. Caleb chose his words carefully, as if for my own good: “Zoe, don’t you think you’re being too petty?” “Your mother is good to everyone, except you. Shouldn’t you reflect on that?” I had been gaslighted by my mother for so long that I really started to think it was my problem. At the same time, Caleb used my mother’s name to stand me up and tutor Lily. He could also give up celebrating my birthday because Lily said she had never been to an amusement park. I was kept in the dark about all these maneuvers. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have maintained a long-distance relationship with Caleb for four years. Until the year of graduation, I came home early with my luggage and saw Lily and Caleb in my room, disheveled and hugging each other. I cried all night, as if my faith had collapsed. Over the four years, Caleb flew to see me many times, vowing to marry me right after graduation. How could feelings change overnight? I screamed and shouted, wanting to kick Lily out. My mother slapped me hard, saying she bought the house, and I had no right to decide who stayed or left. In a fit of anger, I broke up with him and applied to be a war correspondent abroad. My mother not only didn’t blame Lily but planned to adopt her as a goddaughter. It was only dropped because Lily’s parents didn’t agree. 4 I ate a few mouthfuls tastelessly and went back to my room. Behind me came my mother’s scolding about my failure to meet expectations, and Lily’s subtle adding fuel to the fire. Caleb came in with a plate of strawberries. I ignored him. “Zoe, are you still blaming Lily? You didn’t say a word to her today. You’re going to overthink things again.” If it were before, I would have screamed: Shouldn’t I blame her? She changed my college application without permission, stole my boyfriend, and my mother wouldn’t even let me call the police, or even get angry at her. When I was hit by stray bullets in Syria and almost died. I figured it out. To people who don’t care about you, whatever you say is just air. I remained silent. Caleb thought I was taking my anger out on him and kept explaining: “I always knew Auntie Yan hated Beijing. You wanted to apply to Beijing University to escape her.” “Lily didn’t want you mother and daughter to fall out, so she memorized your password and changed it for you.” Yes! Her “good intentions” changed my Economics major at Beijing University to a niche Journalism major at a university 2000 kilometers away. Caleb was still rambling: “Zoe, even if I had gotten into Beijing University with you, I would have advised you to change your application.” I was really annoyed listening to him, so I casually said: “Did you deliberately test poorly to stay and accompany Lily?” His voice stopped abruptly, like a wild duck choked by someone. He didn’t know how I knew. Because he never saw clearly that the seemingly strong and innocent Lily was not the little white rabbit he knew at all. After finishing university, when Lily no longer needed my mother’s financial support, she sent many messages to provoke me. Like in high school, how Caleb deceived everyone to take her to the amusement park, the movies, and the ocean park I longed for behind my back. During university, Caleb, who got his driver’s license, used weekends to take her on trips around the area. If I called to check on him, he would use the hotel curtains to lie.

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Six years later, I saw Serena Hartley again at the alumni mixer. She was standing just outside the restaurant entrance, shivering slightly in a crisp, light designer dress, stamping her feet to keep warm. “Liam, I’m so happy you actually came.” She rushed toward me, her voice the soft, melodic murmur I remembered. “You still remember the maple-pecan cinnamon rolls from the Old Town Bakery, right? I got up at the crack of dawn and waited in line forever for them.” She held out a steaming paper bag. “Hurry, try one. Tell me they still taste the same.” I pushed the bag back, my expression flat. “I haven’t liked those in years.” Serena’s smile froze mid-frame. She reached out and took my arm. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay?” Her voice dropped to a plea. “Let the past stay in the past. Please?” She paused, her eyes searching mine. “I told you, no matter what, you will always be the most important person in the world to me.” Watching her gently wipe away a manufactured tear, the platinum band on her ring finger catching the light, I shook my head. “No, it’s not going to pass.” The story went sour, crashed, and burned six years ago. There was no point in talking about what-ifs anymore. 1 “When you left for San Francisco without a word, I worried about you for so long.” I raised my eyes to Serena. She was wearing a meticulously tailored tweed suit—Chanel-adjacent—and speaking with that same gentle, almost liquid softness. Everyone always said Serena was the ideal wife, the perfect partner. I used to believe it, too. She was thoughtful, attentive, always sensing what people needed. She was the Campus Queen, the ultimate sweetheart, the Golden Girl everyone put on a pedestal. When she became the Student Body President, her popularity skyrocketed. I genuinely felt that if I hadn’t snagged her early, a perfect girlfriend like her would have been completely out of my league. That’s why, when she’d stammered out her wish to keep our relationship a secret, I’d agreed without a second thought. “Liam, if our dating goes public, I’m afraid of too much attention. It’s for us,” she’d insisted. Back then, I just thought she was being considerate of our privacy. “Liam, sit here. You get cold easily; that spot by the vent is too drafty.” As I walked with Serena toward our designated table, she thoughtfully handed me a warm, damp cloth to clean my hands. I glanced at the seating chart. Myself, Serena, and Harrison Pierce were all seated together. Good. That made tonight’s plan much more convenient. I hadn’t come to this reunion to catch up; I’d come to finally settle a score. “Well, well. Look who the cat dragged in. The home-wrecking male gigolo.” That familiar, abrasive voice. I turned and there he was: Harrison Pierce. He draped an arm possessively around Serena, staking his claim. “Six years later, and you’re still shameless enough to chase her all the way here?” Serena patted his arm, her voice gentle. “Harrison, please don’t. Liam has probably had a difficult few years on his own.” The rest of the alumni at the table started buzzing, their eyes darting between us. I didn’t acknowledge Harrison. I just smiled faintly and took my seat. Harrison’s face darkened, but he just tugged Serena down into the seat directly opposite me. The small talk started up immediately. “It’s great to finally have a full reunion this year.” “I heard not only is Liam Hawthorne here, but even the old class secretary who moved overseas is joining us.” “Hey, Serena and Harrison, you’ve been married for years now. Why haven’t you had a baby yet?” “Such a gorgeous couple. It’d be a shame not to have a few more little ones.” At that, the polished smile on Serena’s face flickered, showing a split-second of unnatural stiffness. Harrison quickly jumped in. “That’s on me. I’m afraid if Serena has a baby, she’ll split her love for me.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ve faced so many challenges and still made it through.” He then turned to me, lighting a cigarette with a deliberate air of nonchalance. “Isn’t that right, Liam?” He blew out a plume of smoke. “After all this time, you’re not still fantasizing about my wife, are you?” 2 Harrison had raised his voice. The entire room heard him. All eyes in the room were now focused on me. Serena’s eyes, bright with a strange anticipation, seemed to be waiting for my answer, too. My phone chimed. I used the notification as an excuse to avoid answering, pretending to check a call. My wife was texting: Almost there. Knowing she was about to join our table, I quickly snapped a photo of the room and sent it to her. Serena caught the movement. “Liam, you went completely off the grid these past few years. What were you doing?” She leaned forward, concern etched on her perfect face. “Did you run into some trouble?” “You don’t have to pretend everything is fine. You can tell us. We’re classmates; we’ll help if we can.” Harrison chimed in, feigning camaraderie. “Yeah, Liam, no need to put on an act for your old college buddies.” He gestured dismissively at my suit. “This whole ‘bespoke’ thing, these unheard-of labels you’re wearing…” He chuckled. “I get it. After all these years, a guy cares about his image and his status.” Watching Harrison go on and on, I cut him off, my voice even. “After all those years with Serena, you two really have become exactly alike.” “So incredibly fake.” Harrison shot up from his chair, ready to charge across the table. Serena quickly grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. The other alumni started playing peacemaker. “Liam, you dropped out so early. Without a degree, it must be tough to find work, right?” “Look, you can’t blame everyone else for what happened back then. You did kind of cross a line…” The chatter went on, a cascade of thinly veiled accusations and casual cruelty. Not one person seemed to care about how I felt. I let out a short, hollow laugh, which made everyone pause. When the room fell silent, I spoke, my voice calm. “That thing? Are you referring to the time I was slandered as the ‘home-wrecking male gigolo’?” Serena spoke softly. “Liam, you’ve changed so much. You never used to want anyone to bring that up.” She looked at me, still the picture of gentle solicitude, her expression full of concern. Unfortunately, it was that exact brand of soft, gentle cruelty—her velvet-gloved strike—that had destroyed me over and over. 3 Serena and I grew up as neighbors. Unlike the flawless Campus Queen everyone saw in college, her home life was sordid and fractured. Her father was constantly cheating, and their home was a battlefield of fights and abuse. After he tried to sexually assault her during a drunken rage, she convinced her mother to divorce him and they moved near my family to escape his harassment. My mother constantly praised Serena—a good, sensible girl who took care of her family. My mother gave her free tutoring and always made her a hot meal when no one was home. Slowly, over time, we fell for each other, and after graduation, we became official. Serena always said that the moment she first saw me, she knew I was the man she could trust her life to. She’d claimed that, aside from her mother, I was the most important person to her in the world. She became the perfect girlfriend, attentive and doting, terrified of me suffering even the smallest slight. My mother used to say I must have been a saint in a past life to deserve Serena. So when she cried and begged me to go to the same university as her, I didn’t hesitate to change my enrollment. I gave up my spot in the pre-law program I loved to follow her to a less competitive school. I was young then, and I believed that true love was invincible. If she hadn’t been blinded by Harrison Pierce’s relentless pursuit, I truly thought we would be together forever. In the beginning, Serena was annoyed by Harrison more than interested. “Harrison is like a mosquito, I can’t get rid of him,” she’d complain. “My personality is too soft. If I try to be harsh, he thinks I’m playing hard to get.” She started avoiding him, but that only seemed to encourage Harrison. He kept up a steady stream of expensive gifts, and soon, everyone on campus was shipping them as a couple. Slowly, I noticed her attempts to avoid him turn into quiet companionship. The luxury jewelry she’d once refused was now draped around her neck. I confronted her about it a few times. Each time, her eyes would well up, and she’d cry, “You know boys are so sensitive about their pride, Liam. If I reject him too harshly, I’ll devastate him. He likes me so much; I can’t be that cruel.” But the real turning point was when she voted for Harrison for the Student Body Vice Presidency, a position I had desperately wanted. I was furious and demanded an explanation. Her beautiful, crescent-moon eyebrows furrowed slightly, but her voice remained soft and musical. “Harrison is so impulsive. If I didn’t vote for him, he’d throw a massive fit and cause a scene. You know he’s like a pampered toddler; it takes so much effort to calm him down.” As she spoke, the corners of her mouth curled up in a tiny, gentle smile, an expression filled with subtle, unfamiliar warmth. I had seen the way she used to love me. I knew her heart had shifted. Yet, I still tried to cling to any proof that she was still mine. I started manufacturing problems and petty drama, just so she would have to use her energy to fix them—just so I could see her still fighting for me. The final hammer blow came when my tablet synced with her electronic journal. The cold, unforgiving digital text documented her anxiety and frustration: 【Job hunting failed again. Is it true that people from ordinary backgrounds can never get ahead?】 【Harrison pulled strings with his family. I’m interning at Pierce Group without even an interview.】 【I shouldn’t betray Liam, but… what can he really give me?】 【Liam started trouble again today. I must have spoiled him too much before.】 【The scarf Harrison gave me was over four figures. He really does love me.】 【I’m so sorry, Liam…】 The journal entry stopped on the day of the student election. I’d always believed you should cherish what you have when you find it, but the result told me that people change. My girlfriend was gone. 4 I broke up with Serena. She cried and pleaded for me to stay, but I walked away. I finally accepted the fact that Serena had only loved me briefly. However, Serena became the one who wouldn’t let go. Beyond the daily flood of texts and calls, she began showing up everywhere I went. I asked her what she wanted, and her eyes would fill with tears. “Liam, you can let go of three years of history so easily, but I can’t.” Her body would tremble, and the tears would slide down her cheeks, a single drop landing on my heart, making it waver. I told her to give me three days to think. That very night, Harrison posted their official announcement on social media. I laughed coldly and blocked her everywhere. The anger and humiliation festered, and I fell ill the next day. As I drifted in a feverish sleep, I heard someone screaming my name outside. It was Serena. Unable to contact me and hearing I’d taken a leave of absence, she’d bought me medicine and rushed it over. “Liam, you never take care of yourself, you get sick easily, and you hate taking pills,” she called up. “I’m going to wait here until you come down.” The neighbors started peering out curiously. I stumbled out the door to grab the medication. That evening, Harrison posted about me online: 【Look how shameless the campus gigolo is now @LiamHawthorne】 The post included a badly-timed photo of me accepting the medicine from Serena, making it look like I was trying to pull her into a hug. He included dozens of screencaps of my sweet, loving texts to Serena from years ago, carefully omitting all the time stamps. He even uploaded several heavily AI-edited, suggestive photos of me, implying I was some kind of male prostitute. The comments were immediately filled with “insider” details: 【He rents a place off-campus just to bring girls home.】 【Don’t let the innocent face fool you. He’s been the cheapest date on campus for years.】 People didn’t care about the truth; they just gorged on the gossip. The post went viral instantly. Walking around campus, I was met with whispers and looks of disgust. “God, the nerve of that sleaze… a third wheel and a gigolo.” I tried to act tough, but every night I had to take an aggressive dose of sleeping pills just to fall asleep. I was the victim of the failed relationship, yet a simple rumor had successfully branded me as the detested other man. I started to fear leaving the apartment, hiding in my rental, hoping the rumors would eventually die down. One day, in the cafeteria, one of Harrison’s cronies emptied a box of condoms into my tray of food. I couldn’t take it anymore. I unblocked Serena and sent a single text: 【Please, help me.】 5 Serena replied quickly: 【Liam, Harrison is just a little childish, he’s not a bad person.】 【Don’t worry, I promise I’ll clear all this up for you.】 Soon after, the post vanished, and Harrison stopped harassing me. I tentatively started leaving the house. The other students had new gossip, and I faded back into anonymity. The period of cyberbullying felt like a terrible, surreal interlude. Just when I thought it was all over, a video was uploaded to the campus forum. It was Serena. She was gently draped around Harrison, her voice soft and pure. “My heart has only ever been yours, Harrison.” “Liam and I had a brief acquaintance, but I had no idea about any of the feelings he had for me.” Her statement sealed my fate, confirming to everyone that I was the shameless, unwanted third party in their perfect relationship. The wave of cyberbullying crashed down again, stronger than before. My hands trembling, I tried to contact Serena, only to find I was blocked again. Then, one afternoon, Harrison’s entourage surrounded me in a dark alley, yelling at me to drop my pants. “What are you pretending for? They already posted pictures. Let us see if you’re as big as they say.” “Don’t be a jerk, man. Gender doesn’t matter. Let me get my rocks off; maybe I’ll feel bad for you then.” The group roared with laughter, pinning me to the ground. Several of them roughly started pulling down my jeans. I grabbed a jagged piece of rock from the ground and plunged it into the nearest guy. In the ensuing panic and yells of pain, I scrambled up and ran for my life. Because of the incident, my mother was called to the school. Watching my middle-aged mother bow and scrape, apologizing repeatedly to the teachers and the parents of Harrison’s friends, broke me. What had I done wrong? In the end, I was forced to drop out. I sank into a deep, debilitating depression, hiding at home. The early-morning wake-ups were harder than the sleepless nights; I would sit alone, waiting for the first hint of daylight before I dared to close my eyes. My mother never blamed me; she only told me to rest. Engulfed in the failure of my own love story, I failed to see how hard she was struggling to support me. One day, a phone call woke me from a deep sleep: “Liam Hawthorne? Your mother was in a car accident. You need to come down.” 6 To smooth things over with Harrison’s friends and their parents, my mother had used up all her savings to pay a massive settlement. To take care of me, listless and depressed at home, she had picked up two extra part-time jobs. Our schedules were completely out of sync, and I rarely saw her when I was lucid. When I saw her body in the morgue, I realized how utterly selfish I had been. In those six short months, she had aged terribly, her hair streaked with white. I took her now-icy hand and felt the thick, hardened calluses. My mother had always been meticulous about her hands, calling them a person’s second face. When had she stopped caring about herself for my sake? I listened, dazed and heartbroken, as the police explained the case. I only vaguely remembered something about a Porsche whose brakes failed, hitting my mother as she crossed the street. While going through her meager possessions, I saw the small, silk prayer charm I’d bought for her when I was eighteen, now stained dark red with blood. My emotions finally broke. I sobbed and raged, demanding to see the person responsible. But the driver was just a frail, middle-aged man who worked at a car wash. He claimed he’d taken a client’s car out for a late-night drive and the accident was a terrible coincidence. He was prepared to take the blame. But when I saw the accident vehicle, I knew it was no accident. It was the Porsche Harrison always drove around school, the one he constantly showed off. I’d seen Serena in the passenger seat hundreds of times. I knew the license plate number by heart. I immediately filed suit, insisting this was not an accident. Harrison was brought in for questioning, but he was released again almost immediately. The person who provided his airtight alibi was Serena. “Why, Serena? Did you forget everything my mother did for you when you were a child?” I yelled, grabbing her arm. Serena only stood there, gently weeping, then softly put her arms around me. “Liam, you can’t accuse Harrison of something so terrible based only on suspicion.” She pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes. “I promise I will stay with you, right by your side, until you get through this. Okay?” After hearing those words, I suddenly felt a profound calm. Why bother with a broken umbrella when you’re already drenched? In that moment of total despair, I stopped complaining. I left for San Francisco, cutting all ties. At the table, the class president, oblivious, excitedly announced the formal start of the reunion, snapping me out of my memory. My wife texted: I’m at the door. Harrison then stepped onto the small stage, snatched the microphone from the president, and yelled: “Liam Hawthorne! Six years later, are you still trying to be the home-wrecker?”

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