Category: English

1 In my last life, I chose my mother. I did it for the ghost of a mother’s love she might one day offer—the one who did nothing but complain about being broke and let life happen to her. Later, she had a change of heart. She started with a small diner and clawed her way up to become a restaurant mogul. My brother, who had begged to go live with our wealthy father, was broken by the crushing pressure of his new life. He jumped from a building and landed on me as I was passing by. When I opened my eyes again, we were both reborn, back on the day our parents divorced. My brother, Sam, clung to our mother’s leg, putting on a performance worthy of an Oscar. “Sis, you go with Dad. Go live the good life. I’m not afraid of tough times! I’m staying with Mom!” He didn’t know the only reason our mother turned her life around was because she’d seen me, riddled with stomach cancer, coughing up blood while still forcing myself to work. So, this time, I don’t want love. I want money. All I want is to close my eyes for the last time in the quiet comfort of a twenty-thousand-dollar custom mattress. Even if that life means a stepbrother who supposedly hates my guts and a father who sees me as nothing more than a nuisance. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have long to live anyway. … The rain was relentless on the day I was reborn. “Oh, Maya, you be a good girl over there, you hear? And don’t you ever forget that Mommy loves you more than anything.” My mother stood in the doorway of our dilapidated apartment, the paint peeling off the iron gate behind her. She looked at me with what was supposed to be deep affection, tears mixing with the rain on her cheeks. Her words were all about how much she’d miss me, but her hand was clamped firmly on Sam’s arm. She held on as if she was afraid the sleek luxury car waiting at the end of the alley would snatch her precious son away. Sam, nestled against her, shot a smug grin in my direction. “Go on, sis. Your new life is waiting!” That gloating look told me everything. He was reborn, too. But I wasn’t angry. I almost wanted to laugh. The familiar, searing burn was rising in my stomach again. I knew I probably wouldn’t make it to adulthood this time either. But it didn’t matter. At least this time, I had a choice. I turned and walked away, my sneakers splashing through the muddy puddles toward the alley’s entrance. A gleaming Maybach was parked there, its polished surface a stark contrast to the decaying neighborhood. A boy stood beside it. That was Caleb, my stepbrother, whom I’d never met. He wore a windbreaker, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other impatiently tapping at his phone. He held an umbrella carelessly, not minding that one of his shoulders was already soaked. When he looked up, his eyes scanned over me as if I were a bag of trash about to be tossed into his car. “Finished with the performance?” he asked as I approached. His voice was cold, but with an undercurrent of teenage rasp. “Making my dad and me wait half an hour for your five-minute tearful goodbye. You must think you’re pretty important.” I didn’t bother explaining. I just tossed my moldy canvas bag into the trunk. “Sorry.” My voice was hoarse, scorched by stomach acid. Caleb raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised by my quick surrender. He let out a short, humorless laugh, then opened the back door and slid in himself, making no move to help me. I wasn’t expecting any chivalry. I’d heard about him in my last life. This kid had a notoriously bad temper and hated anyone invading his space. I opened the door on the other side. The heat inside the car was blasting, but a chill still clung to my bones. My father sat in the passenger seat, his head bent over a file. He didn’t even turn around. “Now that she’s in, let’s go.” His tone was flat, devoid of any emotion. “That’s your brother now. This family doesn’t tolerate freeloaders. You need to prove your worth if you want to have a place here.” I shrank into the corner, watching through the tinted window as my mother and brother continued their dramatic, tear-soaked farewell at the end of the alley. What a show. Too bad the audience had already left. 2 The car moved smoothly, but my stomach was a churning sea of pain. It was a sharp, drilling ache that felt like it was boring into my very bones. I gritted my teeth, digging my fingers into the soft flesh of my inner thigh, trying to drown out one pain with another. Cold sweat trickled down my temples, dripping onto the leather seat. A sharp click sounded beside me. Caleb had his headphones on, idly flicking a lighter open and shut. But I could feel his eyes on me. “Hey.” He pulled one earbud out, his voice low, probably so our father wouldn’t hear. “If you’re going to puke, get out and do it. Don’t mess up my car.” I didn’t have the strength to speak. My hand trembled as I fished a small, unlabeled white bottle from my pocket. I shook out two pills and swallowed them dry. The bitterness as they scraped down my throat made me shudder. Caleb’s fidgeting stopped. He stared at the bottle, then at my paper-white face and my trembling fingers. His expression hardened into one of sharp disgust. “They even deal that crap in a dump like that?” He leaned a little closer, and the clean, fresh scent of his cologne momentarily masked the musty smell clinging to my clothes. “Maya,” he said, his voice laced with contempt, “are you a junkie?” I took a shaky breath. The medicine hadn’t kicked in yet, and the pain was making my vision swim with black spots. “Painkillers,” I managed to whisper, my eyes closed. “Hah.” He scoffed, clearly not believing a word. He put his earbud back in and shifted away from me, as if trying to create a physical barrier between us. “Now that you’re living under our roof, you better clean up your act. If my mom finds out, I can’t protect you.” He added, “Not that I’d want to.” I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the city’s neon lights blur past. A junkie? Whatever. I wasn’t planning on living much longer anyway. It was safer to be seen as trash than as a cash cow. By the time the car wound its way up into the hillside villa community, the agonizing knot in my stomach had finally begun to loosen. I was finally home. My stepmother, Lianne, was waiting at the door. She wore a silk lounge set and looked impeccably maintained, a polite but distant smile on her face. “You must be Maya. Your room is ready. It’s the guest room on the second floor.” No warm welcome, no fake affection. Good. I picked up my bag and headed upstairs. As I passed Caleb, he stuck his leg out, tripping me. Weak as I was, my legs gave out, and my knee slammed hard onto the polished floor. “Whoops. My bad.” Caleb looked down at me, his eyes filled with malicious glee. “Tsk, tsk. Shaky on your feet? Must be a nasty habit.” Downstairs, my father was taking off his coat. He heard the noise and glanced up with a frown but said nothing. Lianne’s brow furrowed, but she only gave Caleb’s sleeve a gentle tug. “Caleb, stop it.” I pushed myself up from the floor. My knee throbbed, but I felt a strange sense of relief. This was it. This was right. This was the life I wanted. Cold, hostile, and indifferent. I didn’t want anyone to bother me. I certainly didn’t need anyone to care about me. As long as they didn’t love me, I could die peacefully in this multi-million-dollar coffin. “It’s fine.” I brushed the dust off my pants and offered Caleb a smile that held no warmth. “I’ll be counting on you to look after me from now on, brother.” Caleb seemed taken aback. He studied me for a moment, then scoffed. “I’m not your brother, so don’t even try.” “And another thing. I don’t like noise, and I don’t like people touching my stuff. You better remember that.” He shoved past me and stormed up the stairs. 3 Dinner was an affair orchestrated by Lianne. It was a long, formal dining table. My father, Grant, sat at the head, with Lianne to his left and Caleb to his right. I was placed next to Caleb. The table was set with exquisite china and food I’d never even seen before. The aroma was tempting, but the smell of meat alone made my stomach clench. “Eat. Don’t be shy.” Grant sliced into his steak without looking up. “You’re part of this family now. I’ve enrolled you at St. Mary’s Academy. You start tomorrow.” It was the best private school in the city. In my last life, Sam had dreamed of getting in. My mother had sold our ancestral home to try and buy his way in, but they didn’t accept new money. “Thank you, Dad.” I picked up my knife and fork. My hand was shaking so badly that the silver clattered against the plate. Caleb shot me a cold glare. His eyes lingered on my trembling wrist, a smirk playing on his lips. Obviously, he was still convinced I was a user going through withdrawal. I managed to cut a tiny piece of steak and put it in my mouth. The prime cut, which should have been tender and juicy, tasted like a rancid dishcloth. I choked it down, fighting back the nausea. The moment it hit my stomach, an explosion of pain erupted. Cold sweat drenched my back instantly. I put down my cutlery and grabbed my glass of ice water, gulping it down in an attempt to quell the rising tide of acid. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” Lianne’s sharp eyes had noticed my distress. I quickly shook my head, flustered by her attention. “No, it’s delicious.” I forced a smile, though my face probably looked paler than a corpse’s. “Just a little carsick, that’s all.” “So delicate,” Grant muttered, clearly displeased. “How do you expect to survive in this world if you’re so weak?” “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, looking down. He ignored me, turning his attention back to his wife and son, and the three of them were soon lost in conversation. I only had two bites of that meal. After dinner, I fled to my room. I shut the door and locked it. I ran to the bathroom and threw up the two mouthfuls of meat I’d forced down. The vomit was streaked with red. I collapsed onto the floor next to the toilet, my hands shaking as I pulled the bottle from my pocket. I took out three pills. That was my limit for the day. Any more would cause irreversible kidney damage. Not that my kidneys were likely to last that long anyway. I swallowed the pills and lay down on the twenty-thousand-dollar mattress. It was so comfortable. If only I could just fall asleep and never wake up. 4 When I came downstairs the next morning, Caleb was on the sofa, pulling on his shoes. He paused when he saw me. His eyes landed on the vitamin bottle in my hand, which I hadn’t had a chance to put away. It was my disguise, filled with high-strength painkillers. “Breakfast of champions?” he drawled, a smirk on his face. “Too many vitamins can be toxic, you know. Common sense.” I shoved the bottle into my pocket, ignoring him. “Thanks for your concern, brother.” The driver took us to school. Caleb clearly didn’t want anyone to know we were related. He made me get out a block away from the school gates. “Walk the rest of the way,” he ordered, rolling down the window. “And don’t tell anyone you know me. I have a reputation to maintain.” Fine by me. The moment I stepped into the classroom, I could feel the hostility. Dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on me. “So that’s her? The illegitimate one?” “I heard she’s not just illegitimate, she grew up in the slums. A total delinquent.” “God, how did someone like her get in here…” I walked to an empty seat at the back of the room and sat down. So childish. But I knew who was behind this. Sam couldn’t get into this school, but he had plenty of friends who could spread rumors for him. He wanted to ruin me. I didn’t care. As long as they didn’t bother me while I was trying to sleep, they could say whatever they wanted. I rested my head on the desk. The pain was returning, a dull ache in my stomach as the medication wore off. I fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake until someone shook me violently. I opened my eyes to see my homeroom teacher, a snobbish middle-aged woman, glaring down at me. “Maya! It’s your first day and you’re sleeping? What do you think this is?” She pointed to a problem on the blackboard. “Get up there and solve it.” I squinted at the board. Calculus, all in English. In my last life, I’d taught myself university-level math to tutor Sam. This was easy. But I didn’t move. It hurt too much to stand. “I can’t,” I said simply. The class erupted in laughter. “What a dummy.” “Waste of a spot.” The teacher’s face turned red with anger. “If you can’t do it, then get out and stand in the hall! Don’t be an eyesore in my classroom!” I slowly got to my feet, picked up my water bottle, and walked out. The hallway was filled with sunlight. It was nice. Warmer than the classroom. I leaned against the wall, soaking up the sun like an old woman on her deathbed.

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My husband claimed he’d been reborn, warning that in his past life, my long-lost parents stole my $10 million lottery win, ruined us, and had us killed. He insisted I transfer everything to his name and divorce him to stay safe. Trusting him, I gave up all we owned. The day the divorce was final, he blocked our door, smirking. “Reborn? Parents? Did you really believe that? I’ve been cheating for years. Lina is pregnant, and I’m marrying her.” Then our eight-year-old son Leo shoved a paternity test at me. “My real mom is your boss. You’re just a fool.” They laughed as if I were a clown. I swallowed my words. So, the rebirth was a lie. But the lottery win and finding my birth parents? That’s real. And that boss he’s marrying? She embezzled millions, was fired, and is now scrambling to repay it all. 1 “If you get it, then get lost,” Liam said, kicking a duffel bag of my belongings onto the lawn as if it were trash. “Lina will be here any minute, and the sight of you will just ruin her mood.” “I’m so sick of you,” he seethed, his face twisted with a resentment I’d never seen before. “Always that same dead look on your face. It makes me want to puke. And in bed? A total corpse. No passion, nothing.” He wasn’t finished. “And you, an orphan with no family to speak of, trying to teach me about social etiquette? That’s hilarious. While my parents were teaching me how the world works, you were still begging for scraps in an orphanage!” His words were venomous, fueled by a rage I couldn’t comprehend. But all I felt was a hollow, bitter amusement. When we got married, he swore he’d cherish me forever. After a traumatic birth left me with physical and emotional scars, making intimacy difficult, he’d said he understood, that he could handle it. The “social etiquette” he was so incensed about? It was me, gently suggesting he attend a company party to be more of a team player. I couldn’t fathom how these small, forgotten moments had curdled into such a deep-seated hatred. Seeing my silence, my son Leo must have thought I was planning to stay. He exploded. “Are you just waiting here to cause trouble for my mom?” he shrieked. “The house, the car, it’s all ours now! It has nothing to do with you!” He glared at me, his small face a mask of contempt. “If it wasn’t for the money you make, I would’ve been disgusted to even call you ‘Mom’.” “My real mom is a big-shot executive! She’s going to sell this dump and buy us a mansion!” A mansion. They had no idea. The “big-shot executive” he was bragging about was already drowning in debt after being fired for embezzlement. And my lottery win was real. Thirty million dollars. If things had been different, Leo would have been the heir to a fortune. But it seemed fate had other plans for him. I looked at the father and son, a derisive smile touching my lips. “What you’ve done is called fraud. I’ll be suing. Expect to be served.” Liam’s face darkened. “You transferred everything willingly. The bank tellers, the notaries—they can all testify to that.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Don’t be pathetic, Stella. You have no family, no one to back you up. You should be more concerned with where you’re going to sleep tonight.” Just then, a woman rushed up, throwing her arms around Liam in a triumphant embrace. “Liam! You really did it? You divorced that bitch?” she squealed. “The house, the car, the savings… it’s all in your name, right?” It was Lina. My best friend. My boss. We’d been roommates in college. She came from a poor, rural family, and we’d worked countless part-time jobs together, forging a bond I thought was unbreakable. I helped her get a job at my company, and within a year, she’d climbed the ladder and become my direct superior. She was a frequent guest in our home, always helping with Leo. I was so grateful to her. I never imagined the three of them were playing me for a fool, right under my nose. Even worse, I now suspected they’d swapped the embryos during my IVF treatment, letting her become a mother without any of the pain. Seeing my things scattered across the lawn, Lina dropped all pretense. She draped herself over Liam, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Stella, thank you so much for taking care of my husband and my son all these years. It must have been so much work for you.” 2 Before I could react, Liam spoke, his voice cold and sharp. “Why thank her? If it weren’t for me and Leo, she’d have spent her whole life never knowing what a real family feels like.” He pulled Lina closer, stroking her hair. “You’re the one who suffered, my love. Putting up with this for ten years, just to spare her feelings.” He looked at her with feigned adoration. “You’ve given so much for this family. From now on, Leo and I will treat you like a queen.” The words made my stomach churn. Liam was a university professor, a man who cloaked himself in an air of intellectual superiority. Yet in over a decade, he’d never managed to get tenure and was practically a pariah in his department for being so difficult. He loved hosting pretentious “academic salons” where he and his colleagues would get drunk, pouring his entire salary into fine wine and cigars. The mortgage, the car payments, Leo’s expensive tutoring, the housekeeper… every single bill was paid by me, working overtime, chasing bonuses, keeping our heads above water. And now, with a few careless words, he had erased a decade of my sacrifice. I remembered the first time I met him. I was working a late shift at a greasy spoon diner, and he stepped in to chase off some guys who were harassing me. His quiet intensity, that scholarly charm… I was completely captivated. And for that, I had spent ten years supporting him without complaint. So when he told me his bizarre story about being reborn, begging me to transfer our assets, I didn’t question it for a second. I just did it. I never thought my trust would be met with such a profound betrayal, my devotion turned into a punchline. I took a deep breath, my gaze shifting to Lina. A cold, sharp smile spread across my face. “Liam’s drinking and smoking habits run about ten grand a month. Leo’s tutoring is another five. The mortgage is ten, the housekeeper is eight, and miscellaneous expenses usually hit around twenty. All in all, you’re looking at over fifty thousand a month.” I let the numbers hang in the air. “You’ve been fired, Lina. Can you really afford these two money pits?” “Fired?” Liam’s confident smirk vanished, replaced by confusion. He turned to Lina. “What is she talking about?” I watched, waiting for her to squirm her way out of this one. Lina shot me a venomous glare before forcing a smile for Liam. “Honey, I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been so stressed with the divorce, I was going to tell you later.” She put a hand on her stomach. “Besides, I have skills, I have experience. I’ll find a new job in no time. And don’t forget… I’m carrying your baby.” The mention of another child instantly erased Liam’s concerns. His face lit up. “You’re right! You’re pregnant with our baby. You should be quitting any job you have, not looking for a new one.” Leo’s face, too, was a picture of relief and excitement. “That scared me! If Mom was broke, what would I eat? What would I wear?” he chirped. “It’s okay, after the new baby comes, Mom can just go back to work.” Then, his eyes fell on a rock by his feet. He snatched it up and hurled it at my head. It missed, but the intent was clear. “You evil witch!” he screamed. “Mom worked at the same company as you! You must have gotten her fired! She didn’t tell us because she didn’t want us to worry, and you just blurted it out to make Dad and me feel sorry for you! You wanted us to choose you over her!” His face was red with fury. “You’re the most wicked person I know!” He then ripped a small, woven charm from his neck, a talisman I had gotten for him, and threw it to the ground, grinding it under his heel. “Take your junk back!” he yelled. “My real mom will buy me something better, something expensive. I’m too good for cheap trash like this!” That talisman… I remembered Leo running a dangerously high fever. I had spent an entire night kneeling in a cold chapel, praying, and paid a fortune to have it blessed by a renowned priest. My love, my devotion, stomped into the dirt. The question I had been burning to ask—Why do you hate me so much?—died on my lips. At this point, it didn’t matter. There was nothing left to say. “Well then,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “congratulations to you both on marrying into such a prestigious family.” I picked up two small, important items from the pile of my discarded life and walked away without looking back. The thirty million dollars from the lottery was already in my new bank account. The first thing I did was book a flight to Scandinavia to see the northern lights. While I was gone, Liam posted a picture on social media: his marriage certificate with Lina. The caption read: After all this time, I’ve finally found my way back to you. No one could ever keep us apart. I liked the post. And I left a comment: “Congratulations! Paying off massive debts is always easier with two incomes instead of one.” Lina, predictably, blocked me. Then, I called the best divorce lawyer in the city. “Money is no object,” I told him. “I want them to give back every single thing they took from me. And then some.” 3 A week later, my lawyer had a plan. “Ms. Evans,” he said, his voice crisp and confident, “your evidence is impeccable. We can absolutely file to have all assets returned. And if you wish, we can also sue for a substantial amount in emotional damages.” I transferred his ten-thousand-dollar retainer without a second thought. Soon after, a legal notice arrived at Liam’s doorstep. His enraged call came moments later. “Stella, are you insane? Drop this lawsuit right now!” I hung up. Three days later, he ambushed me outside my office building. “We need to talk,” he hissed, blocking my path. “Or I’ll make a scene right here, and you’ll be too embarrassed to ever show your face at work again.” A laugh escaped my lips, sharp and humorless. I remembered our anniversary one year when he’d bought me a set of expired, high-end makeup. I’d gone to the department store to return it and gotten into an argument with the clerk. He’d stood by, mortified, claiming I was embarrassing him before leaving me there and driving home alone. Now, he was acting just like that shameless clerk. Liam stared at me, confused. “What’s so funny? Don’t think you’ve won just because you hired some lawyer. Let me tell you something—Lina is the true heiress to the Sutton fortune!” He puffed out his chest. “That’s Sutton Corp, Stella. You drop this now, while you still can.” The long-lost heiress? Lina’s parents were migrant farm workers. I’d met her mother in college; they were practically identical. But Lina had always spun these fantasies about being a secret princess, swapped at birth. I looked at Liam, intrigued. “You’re a professor, an intellectual. You can’t possibly believe everything she tells you.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “I’m warning you, you can come after me, but you leave Lina out of this!” He looked me up and down, a contemptuous sneer on his face. “I know your type. An orphan, desperate for love. This whole lawsuit is just a pathetic attempt to get me back, isn’t it?” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Remarrying you is out of the question. But… you could come back as our live-in nanny. Leo misses your cooking, and I don’t want Lina to overwork herself.” I laughed again, this time a full-throated, incredulous sound. “A nanny? Liam, you’ve really lost your mind.” He mistook my shock for coyness. “You take good care of the house, and I might consider… playing the husband for you every now and then. Maybe even let Leo call you ‘Mom’ again.” He straightened his collar, radiating smug self-importance. “Considering our ten years together, this is the best I can offer. Don’t push your luck.” Before I could respond, Lina appeared, materializing at his side as if on cue. She planted a kiss on his cheek, then took my hand, her face a mask of magnanimity. “Stella, we’re best friends. I’m willing to share my husband with you.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “Honestly, I’ve wanted to say this for a while. I’m not here to break you up; I’m here to join you.” She looked at me with pity. “There will always be a place for you in this family.” Her performance of a kind, generous victim instantly moved Liam. He wrapped an arm around her, glaring at me. “See? Even Lina doesn’t mind. You can move back in tonight.” He paused, adding, “But just so we’re clear, Lina will always be number one in my heart.” I almost choked on my laughter. Join them? Join them in their mountain of debt? I didn’t have a poverty fetish. That afternoon, Liam sent me a voice message. “From now on, you can live in the storage closet. Rent’s two thousand a month.” The storage closet was barely big enough to turn around in. He wasn’t just insulting me; he was trying to dehumanize me. I deleted the message, blocked his number, and moved on. I worked late that night. When I finally got back to my new apartment, I opened the door to a scene that froze the blood in my veins. The entire place had been stripped bare. It looked like it had been professionally robbed. My hands shaking, I pulled up the feed from the hidden security camera I’d installed in the bedroom. What I saw made my entire body tremble with rage. Just then, my phone rang. It was Liam, and he sounded furious. “Stella, who the hell do you think you are, living alone in a 1,600-square-foot penthouse? Do you think you deserve that?” “I always thought you were a simple, frugal woman. Look at what you’ve become!” “I asked a friend about that sofa I saw on the camera feed. Thirty thousand dollars! Where did you get that kind of money?”

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While sorting through my late brother’s belongings, I found his diary. On the very last page, he wrote: 【In the next life, I don’t want to be Autumn Vance’s brother.】 I froze. Brother really hated me until death. If I hadn’t insisted on marrying Cole Sterling, inviting a wolf into the house… The Vance family wouldn’t have gone bankrupt, and Brother wouldn’t have gone to prison. Suddenly, a floating comment appeared on the diary. 【You don’t think “not wanting to be your brother” means he hates you, do you?】 【Flip a few pages back and see.】 I turned back to the entries from his college years. It read: 【Loving your own sister makes you a beast.】 Tears instantly welled up in my eyes. The comments appeared again. 【We’ve reached 1000 likes! We can help you be reborn back to your college days!】 【Go back quickly! Your brother is about to crash his car!】 I bumped right into Cole Sterling, who had just come home. A comment floated by: 【Remember to teach this scumbag a lesson when you go back!】 1 Cole, reeking of alcohol, sneered and grabbed me. “I heard Julian Vance died. I came back specifically to see your miserable state.” He squinted at me. But he couldn’t find the expression he wanted on my face. He frowned, “Where are you going? What are you hiding in your arms?” I wiped my tears and said coldly: “To find my brother.” Cole was startled and loosened his grip slightly. I took the opportunity to push him away. Following the prompts from the floating comments, I arrived at a racetrack. I wasn’t unfamiliar with this place. It was where my brother used to race and eventually crashed during college. I waited under the scorching sun for a long time. The sun made my vision go black, and I fainted on the ground. When I opened my eyes again, a familiar figure walked by. Tears flowed uncontrollably. I stumbled forward and spoke to the person’s back. “Brother… is it really you? Turn around and look at me.” I really was reborn back to my college days. Julian Vance stood with his back to me, his voice faint. “What? Here to settle scores for Cole Sterling again?” I froze. During the four years of college, Julian and I had argued countless times because of Cole. I even smashed Julian’s computer for Cole. Destroying the model he made for the national competition. It was only right that he didn’t believe me. “No… I came for you. “Brother, I’m sorry… I hurt you. “I won’t like Cole anymore. I’ll listen to you and stop pestering him.” Julian’s back stiffened. “Autumn Vance, what kind of act is this?” His words sounded sarcastic. But listening closely. I could hear a trace of imperceptible trembling. The comments reminded me: 【Act coquettish. Your brother is secretly overjoyed that you’ve found your way back.】 “Brother, Autumn came to ask you for dinner.” He finally turned around. But he was stunned. “What’s wrong with you? Dressed like that, you don’t look like a college student.” I tugged at Julian’s sleeve. “Brother, I want to eat at that food stall near our high school. “After eating, will you accompany me to buy some clothes, okay?” Julian’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he coldly pulled his hand away. “Want to drug my food again and send me to the hospital?” 2 I froze. So besides smashing his computer. I had done even worse things to him. “Brother, I wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what! You still want to send Julian to the hospital!” Before I could finish, I was interrupted. Mia Lane walked over and slapped my hand away. “My business with my brother is none of your business.” “I’m Julian’s girlfriend, how is it none of my business? As for you, you’re just the adopted daughter of the Vance family, always opposing Julian. “Julian might not hold it against you, but I won’t spoil you.” Comments flashed by. 【What is the vicious female supporting character being arrogant about? The male lead only tolerates her because she took care of him when he was hospitalized. Calling herself his girlfriend?】 【The heroine misunderstood this before. She thought her brother and Cole both liked Mia, and that her brother hated her.】 Julian’s eyes were dark. His gaze fell on the back of my hand, red from the slap. In the end, he didn’t say a word. In the silence. The roar of an engine approached. A man with dyed white hair walked over. Arms around two women, one on each side. “Yo, Young Master Vance brought two today too? “I say you should have done this long ago. Hang out with us more. “The heir to the dignified Vance family, messing with competition modeling every day, pretending to be a model student. “Chasing after an adopted sister who doesn’t even look at you, what’s the point…” Julian shouted sternly: “Shut up! Don’t talk nonsense to my sister!” White Hair looked at me. “So this is the sister. “Young Master Vance has skills. Took her down so fast. “What’s that saying, men aren’t bad, women don’t love.” “I said shut up!” Julian’s fingers curled slightly at his side, knuckles turning white. White Hair spread his hands, smiling indifferently: “Okay, okay, not talking. Are we racing or not?” Julian’s expression softened, “Of course, same rules.” I suddenly realized. This wasn’t Julian’s first time racing. After I ruined his competition projects multiple times. He had changed from that gentle and jade-like top student. Into a school tyrant who skipped class all day. “No racing.” I pulled Julian’s hand down. “Brother, I’m still hungry. That food stall is moving soon. Let’s go one more time.” Julian smiled mournfully. “A week ago, you used every trick to get me to eat with you, and then I ended up in the hospital getting my stomach pumped, missing the debate finals. “Autumn Vance, I won’t believe you anymore.” 3 Julian left me behind. Taking Mia towards a dazzling red supercar. Halfway there. His steps suddenly paused, he stopped and looked back: “This isn’t a place for you, go back to school.” I called out to him. “Julian Vance, what if I don’t go!” This time, he didn’t look back. Just waved his hand with his back to me, “Suit yourself.” Comments flashed. 【The person he likes keeps hurting him, who wouldn’t be depressed? So he developed the habit of racing.】 【But after crippling someone in this race, he spent half a month in detention and was completely abandoned by the Vance parents.】 【Then the heroine brought Cole to seize power, it makes me so mad.】 Watching Julian start the car. I rushed onto the track. Standing in front of Julian’s car. A sharp braking sound. The red supercar emergency stopped 0.01 cm from my knees. The heat burned my knees. Julian opened the car door. Eyes red, looking like they were about to bleed. Walking towards me furiously. “What are you doing? What if I couldn’t stop!” My legs went weak, and I fell forward. Julian instinctively supported me. “Brother… if my death can make you forgive me, then I wish I was the one who died…” I don’t want to see the Vance family go bankrupt and you commit suicide in prison a few years later. Julian was confused, “Autumn, what exactly are you playing at?” I pushed him away and walked towards the car. Opened the passenger door. “Mia Lane, get out.” Mia’s face was ashen. But Julian said nothing. She could only silently agree. After she got out. I sat in the passenger seat. Mia’s face changed drastically, “What do you mean!” Julian also frowned at me. “If you want to race, I’m coming with you.” Julian’s jawline tightened. In the stalemate. Cole Sterling somehow found his way here. “Mia! I finally found you. I heard you went racing with Julian, listen to me, don’t go.” Cole grabbed Mia outside the car door. Only then did he discover me and Julian inside the car. I raised my eyebrows, meeting Cole’s gaze. He was my college boyfriend, former husband. But I wasn’t unfamiliar with his obsession with another woman. He stammered: “Autumn, why… why are you here too?” I laughed: “Julian is my brother, is it strange for me to be in his car?” 4 Four people, eight eyes meeting. The air solidified. In the past four years of college, I chased after Cole. But his heart always held Mia. Mia looked down on Cole’s ordinary background. She chased after my brother, wanting to climb the high branch of the Vance family. I loved him, he loved her, she loved him. Such a dead loop. Ended with my marriage to Cole. Just when I thought my devotion had borne fruit. Cole sold the Vance family’s trade secrets. The Vance family faced bankruptcy. Only then did I know. Cole married me just to revenge on Julian, revenge on the Vance family. He took everything from the Vance family for himself. Turned around and gave it all to Mia. Confessed to her in high profile. Julian went to settle scores with him, was sued for injury, and sentenced to twenty years. After that, I received news of my brother’s suicide in prison. … Thoughts returned. This time I must keep myself and Julian far away from Cole and Mia. I said to Cole: “Aren’t you here for Mia? She’s here, take her away.” Cole’s voice trembled a little. He grabbed my hand. “Autumn, I’ll explain to you later… you get out too, listen to me, okay?” Julian clicked his tongue impatiently. I quickly pulled my hand away. Pushed Cole hard. Closed the car door. Julian looked at me. Emotions I couldn’t understand surged in his eyes. Finally, he smiled self-deprecatingly. Leaned over and fastened my seatbelt.

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During a livestream, I connected with a top celebrity filming in Southeast Asia. He was hiding in his hotel room, looking sickly green, his expression terrified: “Streamer, I think I’ve encountered something unclean!” I pondered for a moment: “Indeed, there is something unclean…” Fans frantically flooded the chat, begging me to save their idol. I dipped my brush in cinnabar, drew a talisman with fluid strokes, and held it up to the camera: “An anti-diarrhea talisman. Screenshot it and use it as your phone wallpaper; it will protect your stomach in Southeast Asia. “The director told you to do a light fast, not to lightly bite off unclean food at the night market, okay?” 1 Hearing me say this, the celebrity visibly tensed up, repeatedly making a “shh” gesture at the camera. “Julian Thorne! “Didn’t you say you went to the gym last night?!” A hand as white as porcelain reached into the frame, expertly twisting Julian’s ear half a turn, making him yelp in pain. “Sis, Sis, I was wrong! “I just went to eat some raw marinated seafood. It didn’t have an ingredient list, and you said if it doesn’t have a label, it’s zero calories!” Julian twisted and dodged, accidentally bringing his sister into the frame. 【Oh my god, my carb-loving idol. Have you guys forgotten how he warned everyone right after debut to cherish the time while he was still thin?】 【Stop laughing, guys. Dieting is really hard. Only our brother knows the spicy and savory joy in that food!】 【Sister Thorne has such an authoritative face! Petition for Julian to switch to mukbang and let Sister Thorne debut!】 Seeing she was also on camera, Sister Thorne resentfully released her grip on Julian. Julian covered his ear with a mournful face and asked me for help: “Streamer, it’s true I ate something bad, but I really encountered something unclean. “Last night, I got up in the middle of the night with diarrhea. The TV was on, the screen full of smoke, and I could faintly hear people screaming. I thought I forgot to turn off the TV before sleeping, and couldn’t find the remote, so I just unplugged it. But when I got up again for the bathroom, the TV was still on, showing the same scene!” I explained: “The south side of your room corresponds to the Li trigram, meaning excessive fire energy, and the Five Elements belong to Wood. Such a building is best balanced by being built near water. But there is no sign of water around you. This kind of hotel location, if it encounters the Flying Star of the year, is prone to ‘fire disasters.’ This place must have suffered a devastating fire in the past, causing great loss of life.” Julian’s face grew uglier as he listened. He took out another phone to search online. “Damn, a tanker truck overturned downstairs before, exploded, and caused a huge fire that burned hundreds of people to death!” Julian’s face turned pale, looking at his sister in disbelief: “Sis, I’m your biological brother. How could you set me up like this?!” Sister Thorne rubbed her forehead, unable to force a smile: “Did you forget we’re filming a horror movie? The director designated this location for shooting! When you were interviewed, didn’t you look forward to staying in a haunted hotel?” Julian clutched his head and wailed: “I thought it was just hype! Other camping variety shows film in the wild but go back to sleep in hotel suites. How was I supposed to know that filming a horror movie meant actually staying in a hotel where a fire happened?! We don’t need to be this immersive!” 【Go! Go! Go! Let’s go, see how strong the ghost hotel vibe is…】 【First time seeing a team not revolving around the artist but playing the artist like a fiddle.】 【You guys really have no heart. Am I the only one worried about my brother’s safety?】 Seeing too many anxious comments, I spoke up to comfort them: “Don’t worry, the fire was many years ago, and the hotel has been renovated. Your Fortune Palace is full, your Yintang is wide and upright without lines, indicating a life of prosperity. If it weren’t for your physical discomfort depleting your Yang fire, you wouldn’t see these things at all. “Use the anti-diarrhea talisman. After a sleep, you won’t be affected anymore. Just place your slippers, one facing forward and one backward, in front of the bed. This indicates you are just passing through, and they won’t disturb you again.” Julian gripped his sister’s arm tightly, shaking his head like a rattle drum: “I won’t listen, I won’t listen. I absolutely refuse to stay in this room tonight!” Sister Thorne was helpless: “Then let’s swap rooms, okay?” The boy nodded vigorously. Sister Thorne broke free from his grip and solemnly thanked me facing the camera: “Thank you so much today. When Julian’s movie is released, we’d like to invite you to the premiere. Is that okay?” As she spoke, a necklace accidentally revealed from her collar caught my attention. 2 “Point the necklace you’re wearing at the camera. Let me take a closer look.” Sister Thorne obediently took off the necklace, held it in her hand, and brought it close to the lens. Two trapezoidal jade pieces formed a rectangular gilded locket, intricately carved with a figure of a shapely woman, with fox tails faintly visible behind her. “You’d better not wear this necklace anymore.” Sister Thorne looked troubled: “I just got it from an Archan (Thai master) yesterday. He said after bonding, I must wear it every day.” I frowned: “Your Career Palace is ruddy and full, indicating career success. Look at you, daring to bring your brother into a haunted hotel for a more perfect horror movie. Such determination and courage confirm this. “But your Marriage Palace is dim and gloomy, indicating separation. Don’t blame me for being blunt, but whenever you fall in love, you inevitably meet a scumbag.” Julian forgot his fear and nodded repeatedly: “Master, you are so accurate. The boyfriends my sister dated… one was a mama’s boy who asked his mom what to wear, one seamlessly moved on to his first love, and the current one… mmm…” Julian, having his mouth covered by Sister Thorne again, started struggling in vain. The chat room was buzzing. 【How pretty do you have to be to be loved?】 【The value of the phrase ‘the result is the same anyway’ is still rising.】 【Am I the only one curious why Sister Thorne shouldn’t wear the necklace?】 “When you requested this necklace, were you told it was a Fox Immortal amulet, a highly spiritual wild nine-tailed fox that would make your love life smooth and your boyfriend devoted to you?” Sister Thorne blushed slightly and whispered “Mm-hmm.” I gave my conclusion directly: “It’s impossible for fox fur to be sealed inside the pendant. Think about it, is the climate in Southeast Asia suitable for wild foxes? If we’re talking about Fox Immortals, Northeast China haven’t even spoken up yet, and somehow Southeast Asia produced a nine-tailed fox?” A faint embarrassment colored her exquisite brows, but she suppressed her temper: “But right after I put on the necklace, he immediately apologized and begged for my forgiveness!” “That’s because the Archan used the method for making Yin amulets. With such heavy evil energy, what’s sealed in the pendant is either the hair of a woman who died tragically unmarried or corpse oil refined from a premature fetus. Either one has the ability to let you feel the effects immediately. “The more effective they are, the bigger their appetite. Ordinary offerings cannot satisfy them at all. You will only sink deeper step by step to meet their demands, eventually reaching a point of no return. Is it worth it for a man?” Hearing this, Sister Thorne took a deep breath, barely controlling her trembling hands, and carefully opened the pendant. Inside rolled a bead filled eighty percent with a brownish-black liquid, in which strands of hair were indeed visible. Seeing this, even I couldn’t help but sigh: “Small workshops really go hard on ingredients. Corpse oil and corpse hair, a double dose.” Fear flickered in Sister Thorne’s eyes, and she flung the necklace away violently. Taking advantage of his sister being distracted, Julian secretly sent me a photo of her boyfriend. I clicked on the photo, scrutinized it for a moment, and shook my head even more: “The person you are dating now has sunken temples, indicating he is often a groom. Even wearing ten necklaces won’t make him loyal to you.” Sister Thorne hadn’t recovered from the shock of wearing a corpse oil necklace close to her body and looked at me blankly. A new message notification popped up on her phone. Julian snatched it before she could react and read the content word by word: “If you trust me, check, check, your boyfriend.” With one shock after another, Sister Thorne calmed down instead, but her voice was icy cold: “Ask the other side—you three, me three?” Julian looked at his sister with some worry before replying as instructed. The other side seemed to be waiting by the phone and replied immediately. “I’m three, you’re four. The eldest is taking care of the kids back home, the fifth is a junior schoolmate.” The chat exploded. 【Hello, I am Netizen Number Six.】 【I know three and four, but together they seem a bit unfamiliar.】 【Anything discovered before marriage should be treated as good news. Cut it off early, grow early!】 【Does this scumbag’s family run an antique shop? Why does he call everyone ‘Baby’?】 At this point, Sister Thorne calmed down a bit more, pressed the angry Julian into the chair in front of the camera, and said to me: “Master, thank you so much today. When our work here is done, we will definitely come to thank you in person.” After speaking, she slapped the back of Julian’s head again. Julian subconsciously put on his business smile: “That’s it for today’s livestream, babies don’t worry. See you in our work in 2025!” 3 【Little Tang, is Sister Thorne’s boyfriend really that scummy?】 As soon as I went offline, my best friend Grape sent a gossipy WeChat message. 【Not only is her boyfriend a scumbag, but the guy chasing you isn’t a good match either.】 Speaking of this, I couldn’t help but lecture her. After I came down from Heming Temple, I briefly set up a stall at a suburban night market. She was my first fortune-telling customer. I was the one who dealt with her scum ex-boyfriend back then. Later, when she came to visit me at Heming Temple, a handsome guy with vertical pupils diligently picked her up and dropped her off. If she hadn’t told me in time that the guy was a professional cosplayer and actually a girl who was just tall and loved wearing unique colored contacts, I would have almost summoned lightning to strike. 【Don’t worry, a relative introduced him. It’s just going through the motions to placate the parents. Little Tang, did you calculate some gossip about him? Tell me quickly!】 I found typing troublesome, so I sent a voice message, concise and comprehensive: “That man claims he studied abroad when he was young, and his parents were lonely so they had a second child. Actually, the little son is his. The child’s biological mother is a hostess at a nightclub who gave birth and dumped the child on him before running away. His parents are getting older and don’t have the energy to raise the child for him anymore. The family then discussed getting married quickly to find a nanny who can take care of both the old and the young.” “Oh my god, that’s great!” “?” “This is a ready-made excuse. I’d like to see who dares to introduce me to a blind date again!” “Don’t worry. When you meet your true love, when the Red Phoenix Star moves, I’ll tell you.” “You’re the best!” … 4 After reciting the morning scriptures, I started the livestream on time. As soon as I went online, a user named “Heaven Rewards Diligence” bought the link. After confirming via private message that he was willing to show his face, we started a video connection. “Hello, what would you like to divine?” “Heaven Rewards Diligence” was a simple and honest middle-aged man, his eyes full of hope: “Streamer, can you help me look at the fruit orchard behind me? I want to contract it.” I carefully examined his face and gave my conclusion: “Your cheekbones are ruddy and your eyes are like stars, indicating your career will gradually prosper. Judging by your age, you should be over thirty. From thirty-five to forty, you rely on your eyes for luck. With your phoenix eyes and high eyebrows, I won’t say you’ll own vast lands, but at least your family will be well-off, with no worries about food and clothing…” Despite the good words, “Heaven Rewards Diligence” seemed increasingly disappointed. Hearing “no worries about food and clothing,” he couldn’t help but smile bitterly, shaking his head to interrupt, showing his lunch to the camera—a plain steamed bun with preserved vegetables. “Streamer, you seem to have misjudged this time.” 【Oi, the famous Daoist Master Fang Tang flipped over? What, ran out of scripts?】 【Actually, taking a step back… taking ten thousand steps back is pretty tiring…】 【Don’t play abstract. Watching Fang Tang’s stream for so long, this is the first time she’s been inaccurate. There must be something strange!】 I ignored the netizens’ doubts and continued: “Your face was originally very good, but that scar on your left eyebrow cuts through the Sun Horn. Coupled with the uneven height of your Sun and Moon Horns, it indicates your father should have passed away. And your chin is round but forehead narrow, meaning you left your hometown for study and work after growing up, unable to show filial piety at your parents’ knees.” A flash of pain passed through “Heaven Rewards Diligence’s” eyes, and he spoke with some shame: “Sorry, streamer, I was rude to say you misjudged earlier. “I indeed left home young to study in Beijing, and stayed there to work and start a family after graduation. I brought my parents to Beijing to live for a while, but they were never accustomed to it, so I paid for them to build a house in our hometown. “After the house was built, I brought my wife and child back for a short stay. Unexpectedly, within half a year, my father… “I couldn’t accept the blow of losing a close relative, living in a daze all day, and accidentally made a big mistake at work, getting fired. My wife, in anger, took the child back to her parents’ home. I thought it would be good for everyone to separate and calm down, so I returned to my hometown.” Several major hardships of middle age pressed on “Heaven Rewards Diligence” simultaneously, leaving him almost breathless. “Can you film the self-built house you mentioned?”

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The moment I turned eighteen, I walked in on my mother, then-General Eleanor Beaumont, in the back of her official, armored SUV, servicing one of her junior officers. She simply looked at me, her eyes flat and cold, and said: “Rhys Beaumont, don’t take this to your father. He’s the one who will be destroyed.” I didn’t believe her. Crying, I told my father the truth. That night, he jumped. In that instant, my world fractured and collapsed. I drove a stolen SUV straight through my mother’s second wedding reception, smashing the ballroom to hell. The next day, she put me on a plane to Berlin. My wildest years were spent overseas. I tasted every flavor of blonde bombshell and went through lovers like clean socks. The line of people chasing me stretched from Ibiza to Paris. But just as a stunning girl in a silk slip was sitting on my lap in a penthouse suite, a curt wire from my mother summoned me back to Capitol City. Her demand: I was to marry Major General Stella Kincaid. I knew the rumors. She was ice. Stoic, famously ascetic, and rigidly disciplined—a woman who had never, they said, let a man touch her hand, let alone her. The thought of marrying someone so utterly joyless choked me. I did everything I could to derail the engagement. I hired the most expensive escort in the city and brought her to a military gala as my date. Stella, in her razor-sharp dress uniform, merely walked in, gave me a look that could freeze water, and silently led me back to The Compound. I deliberately caused a scene—a full-blown, drunken riot—right outside the base gates. She personally appeared at the Joint Chief’s office the next morning to smooth it over, silencing the scandal before it could even whisper. I was the disaster, and she was the cleanup crew. It wasn’t until I got thrown into the city jail for a bar fight that she finally broke a mission for me. She interrupted a massive combat drill, leaving over a thousand troops mid-exercise just to come get me. As she bandaged my torn knuckles, her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “I don’t care how much trouble you cause, Rhys. Or how many headlines you make.” “I can manage all of that.” “I only care if you are hurting, here.” 1 My heart seized in my chest. No one had ever truly cared about me. Not with that sincerity, not since my father. Stella Kincaid’s single sentence shattered every one of my defenses. My voice was hoarse when I finally spoke. “Do you have an unfinished love? A ghost of a soulmate you couldn’t keep? Because the woman I marry can only have room in her heart for me.” Stella’s gentle gaze rested on my face. “No. Only you.” And so, I married her. After that, a saying circulated in the social circles of Capitol City: Don’t cross Major General Kincaid’s husband, Rhys Beaumont. Because no matter the scope of the mess I created, the Ice General would always be standing behind me, using her formidable power to protect me. I really thought that my small, fragile light had finally penetrated her cold heart. It wasn’t until I went to the base to drop off some forgotten files that I overheard a conversation between her and a colleague. “Major General Kincaid, what’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?” Stella was silent for a moment, then she slowly replied: “Someone once asked me if I had an unattainable, lost love.” “I lied and told him I didn’t.” Boom! A sonic boom detonated in my skull. I froze instantly. She had someone? Then why the hell did she lie to me? Just as I was about to burst in and demand an explanation, an aide rushed in and whispered something to her. Stella’s usually perfect composure fractured. Her face went tight, and she rushed out. I hailed a cab and followed close behind. The car stopped outside an abandoned, half-finished building on the outskirts of the city. A distraught man was holding a boy hostage with a knife. The moment Stella saw the boy, her voice went taut, vibrating with an intensity I’d never heard. “Let him go!” The captor sneered. “Stella Kincaid! They say your greatest love is Rhys Beaumont, but I know the one you truly carry in your heart is him—Leo Sinclair! You busted my operation, drove me to the wall! Today, I’ll show you what true despair tastes like!” Stella fought to maintain her calm. “Your fight is with me! Let him go and come for me!” “Let him go? Fine!” The man kicked a military-issue blade toward her. “Stab yourself once in the heart! Then I’ll consider it!” Stella didn’t hesitate. She bent, scooped up the knife, and plunged it—hard—toward her own heart. I was hidden in the shadows, my nails digging crescent moons into my palms to stifle a scream. She was willing to sacrifice herself—to kill herself—for another man? The captor roared with insane laughter. “It looks like you truly do love him desperately! All the more reason to kill him!” But as he raised his knife, the embedded Special Forces team swarmed in and subdued him. Sirens wailed as the ambulance rushed in to take Stella away. Through the chaos, no one noticed me—the man standing in the corner, his face ghost-white. Just then, Leo Sinclair walked over. I stared, rigid. “What… what exactly is your relationship with Stella Kincaid?” Leo offered a bitter, self-mocking smile and laid out the sickening truth. Two years ago, he and Stella were deeply in love and planning to marry. But then he was diagnosed with a rare, aggressive blood disease. The only cure was an incredibly scarce, breakthrough gene therapy drug called Novagen. The only person in the entire city with guaranteed access to the Novagen supply was my mother. Stella had gone to her, pleading for the drug. My mother’s condition: Stella had to marry me and conceive a child with me. The truth hit me like a lightning strike. No wonder she was so relentlessly and abnormally fixated on our intimate life, almost every night… The colossal shame and heartbreak nearly tore me to pieces. I spun around and marched straight into General Beaumont’s penthouse. My mother paused in surprise when she saw me, but I went straight to the point. “Did you use that Novagen drug to force Stella Kincaid to marry me?” Eleanor Beaumont smiled, utterly unbothered. “So what if I did? I did it for you! Stella is a Major General, a rising star! You have no idea how many—” I slammed my hands down, flipping the solid wood table. My eyes were burning red. “I’m giving you two options! First: you give the Novagen to Stella Kincaid! Second: you use every ounce of your influence to grant Stella and me the fastest divorce possible!” “Otherwise, I will level this place, and none of us will walk away.” My spine rigid, I turned and left. I didn’t go back to The Compound. I went straight to the nightclub I frequented. For three days straight, I drowned myself in the haze of the club, drinking and dancing, trying to numb the growing emptiness and coldness in my chest. A girl sidled up. “Hey, handsome. Drinking alone is boring. How about I keep you company?” I frowned, annoyance flaring, ready to tell her to get lost. The next second, a sickening crack of bone snapped through the noise, and the girl screamed, crumpling to the floor. I looked up into the cold, stunning face of Stella Kincaid. “Go. If I see you touch him again, I’ll make sure you don’t walk.” The woman scrambled away, terrified. But my heart was a block of ice. “What are you doing here?” My voice was devoid of warmth. Stella’s brow furrowed. “I was on an urgent deployment for the last few days. I got back and heard you’ve been here for seventy-two hours. There’s a limit to how much you can indulge your temper, Rhys. It’s time to come home.” Urgent deployment? My heart felt like it had been shredded by a thousand micro-bullets. Was ‘urgent deployment’ her code for ‘getting a knife to the chest for your sweetheart?’ I didn’t call her lie. I turned my face away, my tone flat. “I’m not going back.” I pushed past her, trying to walk out. But Stella’s arm shot out, grabbing my waist and hauling me back to her. “Stella Kincaid! What the hell are you doing!” I was shocked and furious, thrashing against her. Ignoring my struggle and kicks, she pulled me deeper into a dimly lit corner behind the main dance floor. “Rhys…” Her voice was raw, her breath ragged. “Do you know how long it’s been since you performed your duties as a husband?” “If you won’t come home… we’ll do it right here…” “No! I won’t! Stella Kincaid, if you touch me today, I will hate you forever!” My shame and rage were immense, but they were eclipsed by the crushing pain in my core. “Don’t be scared… the lights are dim. No one will see us…” She gave me no more chance to resist, forcing me to push into her. The dry, abrasive friction made my body instantly tense, and a choked cry of pain escaped me. “Just endure it…” Stella’s voice was thick with suppressed need. “I can handle this pain, you can handle this. We still have a child to conceive.” A child to conceive… Those three words were a poisoned blade, plunging deep into my chest. I lifted my head suddenly, my voice deadly. “Stella Kincaid, what if I told you… I don’t want to have a child with you?” Stella’s movements instantly stalled. “Rhys, I can yield to you on everything else, but not this. This is non-negotiable.” Her words, which were meant to sound so deep and loving, became a sharp, mocking tool in my ear. She couldn’t see my pain, my despair, my terror. All she saw was Leo Sinclair’s survival. Suddenly, a scream ripped through the corner. I twisted my head. Leo Sinclair was standing not far from us, his face chalk-white, tears streaming down his cheeks, looking right at us. The next second, he spun around and ran, sobbing. Stella’s face instantly changed. She pulled away from me almost instantaneously and ran after him! I staggered to my feet, adjusting my wrinkled clothes, feeling like a lifeless puppet as I walked out of that repulsive corner. But as I exited the club’s back door, I heard a shout from above: “Someone jumped!” I instinctively looked up, and saw a figure plummeting from the roof of the club. CRASH—! A heavy, sickening thud. The falling body landed squarely on me. I didn’t even have time to scream before I lost consciousness. I woke up in the military hospital, hearing the frantic voice of a nurse. “Both patients are severely wounded! Internal bleeding, multiple fractures… but we only have one operating room left! The patient who goes second has a high risk of death! Major General Kincaid, you must choose… who do we save first?” Then, I heard Stella’s hoarse voice. “You have to save both! Can’t we arrange a transfer?” “We can’t, Major General! Their condition is too unstable for travel! You… you must make a choice now…” A suffocating silence. Finally, I heard Stella Kincaid speak, one word at a time: “Save… Leo. First.” I already knew the answer. But hearing her make that choice, with my own ears, my heart felt like it was instantly ripped apart. I couldn’t breathe. When I opened my eyes again, Stella was sitting by my bedside. She leaned in immediately when she saw I was awake. “You’re up? How are you feeling? Anything else hurt?” I slowly turned my head, avoiding her touch. “You already gave up on me at the operating room doors. You chose to save him. Why are you putting on this performance of concern now?” Stella’s body stiffened. Clearly, she hadn’t expected me to overhear. “Leo is a close, old friend. He was gravely ill, and his body has been very weak. In that situation, if he didn’t get surgery immediately, he would have died… That’s why I chose him first.” She paused, then looked back at me. “But I immediately called in the military’s mobile surgical unit, so you received timely treatment as well… Rhys, I didn’t abandon you.” I laughed coldly. “Stella Kincaid, if he’s just an old friend, then why did he lose control and jump when he saw us together?” Stella fell silent again. After a long moment, she said, “Leo once had a deep love, a partner he couldn’t be with for many complex reasons. His emotions have been unstable. Seeing us that night… perhaps it triggered something, making him act rashly.” I hadn’t realized she was such a good liar. I remembered vividly on our wedding night, when I’d half-jokingly, half-seriously said: “Stella Kincaid, I hate being lied to more than anything. My father lived and died by my mother’s lies. If you lie to me, I’ll walk away and never look back.” She had gently stroked my cheek, her voice low. “I won’t lie to you.” And now, the lies were piling up. Love, to me, had always been optional. If it worked, great. If not, I’d move on. The second I confirmed she was lying, she was already gone from my world. Seeing my silence, Stella changed the subject. She pulled out a polished wooden box containing a set of shimmering military medals. “I remember you said you were looking for your father’s belongings that your stepfather sold off.” Stella offered the box to me, her voice gentle. “I searched everywhere, finally tracking them down at a military museum overseas. I completed the set for you.” My eyes flickered, resting on the familiar, aged gold. My heart was lightly squeezed by an invisible hand, and a wave of soreness hit the back of my throat. I reached out and took the box. “I’ll take the gift, but I won’t say thank you.” “Because soon, I’ll be sending you one hell of a gift, too.” Stella frowned, about to ask what I meant, when an aide knocked and reported a few urgent details. Her face immediately hardened. She stood up. “Rhys, I have an emergency task. I have to lead the team. Rest well.” Watching her hurried exit, my mind was crystal clear. Emergency task. It was just code for rushing to the next room to comfort the fragile soulmate she prioritized over everything else. The following days were spent in quiet recovery. I walked past Leo Sinclair’s room countless times, and through the slightly ajar door, I always saw Stella meticulously, personally, taking care of him. I would just glance over and move on, a calmness settling in my heart. After all, she would soon no longer be my wife. Who she cared for was none of my business. One afternoon, I returned from a checkup to find my bedside table had been moved. My stomach dropped. I yanked the drawer open. My father’s war medals—gone. I grabbed the nearest nurse. “Who was in my room? Where are my things?!” “It… it was Mr. Sinclair. He said he was retrieving something for you…” My eyes turned to ice. I stormed straight toward Leo Sinclair’s room. Leo was leaning by the window, and he looked at my frigid expression, seemingly having expected me. “Where is it? What did you do with the box?” Leo stared back, speaking softly. “I left it in the hospital’s morgue.” “If you want it, you can go get it yourself.” The hospital morgue was on the second basement level—cold, dark, and silent. I have claustrophobia, and I’ve been terrified of the dark since I was a child. A primal terror shot through me. Gritting my teeth, I shoved open the heavy, freezing metal drawers one by one. In a cabinet tucked away in a corner, I saw the familiar rosewood box. I sighed in relief, snatched the box, and turned to leave, but then I heard a heavy CLANG. The steel door of the morgue had been locked from the outside. “Leo Sinclair! Open the door!” I threw myself against the door, pounding and screaming hoarsely. Leo’s voice, laced with a smug chuckle, drifted through the steel. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Beaumont. You’ll have plenty of company down there…” His footsteps faded into the distance. “Let me out! Open the door!” I threw all my weight against the door, shouting, but the only response was the deafening silence and the bone-chilling cold. My injuries were unhealed. The fear and the cold rapidly depleted my strength. Eventually, I slumped against the freezing metal door, my consciousness fading until I passed out. I don’t know how much time passed, but I dimly woke to muffled voices outside the door. “Stella… I’m so sorry. I only meant it as a joke, telling him I left his stuff in the morgue, I didn’t think he’d actually go in… Now the police are here, saying I’m facing unlawful detainment charges… What should I do?” Then came Stella’s low voice. “I already signed the waiver of prosecution as your family member. It’s handled. Don’t worry.” Lying on that cold floor, listening to their exchange, my heart turned to ash. Leo Sinclair almost killed me in here, and Stella Kincaid had casually signed a waiver for him? An uncontrollable rage surged, shooting straight to my head. I grabbed a glass bottle from a nearby utility cart and hurled it, shattering it against the steel door. The door flew open instantly. Stella walked in, with Leo right behind her. I pushed myself into a sitting position, my weak body shaking, my eyes fixed on Stella. “He nearly killed me. What right did you have to sign that waiver?!” Stella looked at my pale face, a complex flicker in her eyes. “Rhys, Leo’s intentions were innocent. It was a misguided joke. He didn’t think you’d take him seriously.” “A joke?” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Stella Kincaid, you know me. This isn’t over!” Stella pressed her temples, her voice strained with fatigue. “What do you want?” I ignored her and ordered the aide standing by the door. “Go. Bring me ten buckets of ice water.” Soon, buckets of steaming cold, icy water were brought in. I pointed at the water, my gaze on Leo Sinclair. “You. Pour all ten buckets over yourself, from head to toe. When you’re done, this is over.” “What?!” Leo’s eyes went wide with disbelief. He turned to Stella, pleading. “Stella, I… my body can’t handle that! The doctor said I can’t get cold!” Stella immediately turned to me. “Rhys, stop this madness! You know Leo’s condition. This will kill him!” “Did he think about whether it would kill me when he locked me in the morgue?!” Leo looked at the buckets of ice water, trembling, his eyes filling with tears. Stella took a deep breath, removed her dress uniform jacket, and reached for a bucket. “Fine. If you insist on this, I’ll do it for him.” “Stella! No! Your stitches haven’t healed!” “It’s nothing.” Watching her willingness to go to such lengths for Leo Sinclair, my heart was instantly crushed, pain turning to numbness. Stella lifted the bucket, looking at me, her eyes warning. “After I do this, I expect you to stop harassing Leo.” I didn’t speak. I just watched her, frigid. Stella raised her arm, about to dump the ice water over her head. But in that instant, I lunged, grabbed the trembling Leo Sinclair beside her, and with all my strength, poured the entire bucket of ice water over his head! “AHHH—!” Leo shrieked, soaked instantly, shivering violently. Stella spun around at the sound. Seeing the sight, her face turned to fury. “Rhys Beaumont! What did you do?!” I looked at her, my expression cold and resolute. “He seems to enjoy the icy atmosphere of the morgue. I was just being kind and letting him experience it again.” A flash of pure, burning anger ignited in Stella’s eyes. But she had no time to scold me. She immediately grabbed her uniform jacket and wrapped Leo in it. But in her frantic rush, her elbow struck my unhealed wound with brutal force. I was caught off guard, stumbling backward. Thud! My forehead slammed into the sharp corner of the nearby coffee table. Excruciating pain shot through me. Warm liquid immediately flooded my face, staining the white tile floor crimson. My vision swam. I looked up to see Stella anxiously wiping Leo’s face, holding him carefully in her arms to warm him, never once glancing at me, the man bleeding out on the floor… I bit back a cry, covering the gushing wound with my hand, forcing myself to stand despite the pain and dizziness. Step by step, I turned and walked out. Later, I received nine stitches in the ER. The nurse bandaged me up, sighing. “How did you get so badly injured? Where is Major General Kincaid?” I closed my eyes and didn’t answer. During my hospital stay, I could still overhear the nurses whispering about how Stella Kincaid was tirelessly caring for the feverish Leo Sinclair. I listened, my heart a barren landscape. I couldn’t even feel the sting of sadness anymore. Before my stitches were even removed, I checked myself out. As I walked out of the hospital, I got a call from my mother, Eleanor Beaumont. “The divorce papers have been approved.” “I’m releasing the official divorce statement online tomorrow. When that’s done, I will deliver the Novagen to Stella Kincaid.” She paused, her tone laced with a final warning. “Once you have the signed papers, you will disappear and stay gone! Do not come back and cause any more trouble for me!” Hearing her cold voice, my numb heart felt no stir. I spoke into the receiver, my voice icy. “Eleanor Beaumont, you are truly sickening.” Without waiting for her reaction, I hung up. I picked up the luggage I had packed long ago. Without a single moment of lingering, I drove straight to the airport and boarded a flight to a foreign country. From that day on, Rhys Beaumont was erased from Capitol City. Meanwhile, Stella Kincaid had cared for Leo Sinclair in the hospital for days without sleep, until an emergency military operation finally demanded her attention. She hadn’t even reached the door to her office when she saw a group of her colleagues—Brigadier Generals, Colonels, even a Joint Chief—all gathered, discussing something with agitated excitement. A particularly outgoing Colonel saw her and immediately rushed over, his face glowing with anticipation. “Major General Kincaid! Perfect timing! Is it true what the internet says?” “Now that you and Rhys Beaumont are done, does that mean the rest of us get to fairly compete for him?” “Stella, Mr. Beaumont is gorgeous and his spirit is so bright and wild. There isn’t a single person in the city who doesn’t secretly adore him. I’ve been crushing on him forever! I only held back because he was your husband! Now I’m finally free!” “Exactly! Introduce us! We are all lining up already!” They spoke over one another, their words overflowing with admiration and a fierce determination to win Rhys. Hearing their excited chatter, Stella felt a tidal wave of never-before-felt, savage rage surge through her, burning her composure to the breaking point. “Introduce him? Compete? Line up?! Do you know what you are saying?!” Her voice was bone-chilling, radiating a terrifying authority. “Rhys Beaumont is my husband!” They were startled by her sudden, violent fury, looking at each other in confusion. A close female colleague cautiously showed her a phone screen. “You… you don’t know? Mr. Beaumont’s mother already posted your divorce statement online today…” Stella snatched the phone, her eyes locking onto the bold, black letters on the screen. BREAKING: KINCAID-BEAUMONT POWER ALLIANCE COLLAPSES! Major General Stella Kincaid and Socialite Rhys Beaumont File for Divorce Today.

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My husband left work early to pick up our daughter, while I prepared a birthday surprise for her at home. Just as I started steaming the Boston lobsters and king crabs, my husband messaged me: “Hurry, turn off the heat, don’t steam them yet.” I understood immediately; our daughter’s classmate had followed along again. It’s not that I’m stingy and don’t want to share. Our daughter’s classmate lives right across from us. In the past few months, she and her brother have been freeloading at our house. Yet, her mother is so stingy she won’t even give my daughter a popsicle. I immediately ran to the kitchen to turn off the heat. Good stuff, our family will eat it tonight. 1 For my daughter’s twelfth birthday, we planned to celebrate simply at home. It just so happened that my husband’s performance exceeded the target recently, and his boss sent him two boxes of seafood. The most expensive ones inside were Boston lobsters and king crabs, totaling over a thousand dollars. My husband and I have lived for almost half a lifetime and never eaten these. My daughter had craved them after watching mukbangs before. Seeing that our family of three was about to feast today. “She insisted on taking my car. I couldn’t help it. She’s already in the car, can I kick her out?” My husband messaged me while waiting at a red light. He drove the four-wheeler to pick up our daughter today, intending to shop at the mall with her, but ended up being entangled by Sharon’s daughter. “It’s okay, just don’t let her in later.” I’ve known the neighbor across the hall, Sharon, for a year because our children are in the same class. Her daughter, Penny, often visits our house, mostly around meal times, always asking cheekily what we are eating. Then she asks eagerly, “Auntie, can I eat some?” In front of my daughter, I couldn’t refuse. After repeating this several times, I told Penny not to knock on the door at meal times, but she never listened and kept ringing the doorbell. When doing homework, my daughter would bring out her snacks to share with her, and Penny always wanted to take an extra portion back for her brother. I told my daughter not to share everything with friends. A box of 24 bottles of milk usually lasts my daughter a month, but now she shares it with Penny, and at the fastest, it’s consumed in a week. Milk, cookies, cakes, although these things aren’t expensive, the consumption rate is fast, and it adds up to an expense over time! My daughter was unhappy, “Mom, she is my best friend in class, and she shares things with me too.” I softened my heart, thinking that since my daughter values friendship so much, I shouldn’t interfere too much. Penny is considered a polite child, except for being a bit thick-skinned. Until a month ago, I heard Sharon talking to her daughter in the hallway. “The neighbor bought pig trotters today. Go over tonight and have a good meal.” “Bring some snacks back for your brother too.” “Come back after doing homework until 9:30, save some electricity at home.” I didn’t expose her immediately; after all, we are neighbors and need to save face. After this day, for half a month continuously, there was no meat dish for dinner at my home. Penny would come to my house, glance around, and leave if there were no dishes she liked. And the snacks in my daughter’s room were temporarily confiscated by me. Gradually, the number of times Penny did homework at my house decreased. As a result, she was no longer enthusiastic towards my daughter, and even pretended not to see her when meeting in the hallway. “See, she befriended you with a purpose.” “She won’t come if there’s no food.” But my daughter would still greet Penny cheekily and invite her to our home. “Your house has no food, I won’t go.” Penny refused bluntly. My daughter took her own pocket money behind my back to buy her food. A week ago, my daughter ran home with red eyes and told me she wanted a popsicle, “Mom, you were right.” I took my daughter downstairs to buy one. Sharon from across the hall seemed to be waiting for me. She held an apple in her hand, looking apologetic. “I’m really sorry. I always buy an even number of popsicles for my family. My daughter and son each get one every time.” “If I share one with your daughter, it will become an odd number. In the end, the two kids will fight.” “You only have one child, you don’t know the troubles of raising two kids!” She squatted down and stuffed the apple into my daughter’s hand, “Understand Auntie, okay?” Then she stood up and smiled at me, “When will your family make big pig trotters again? Penny craves them so much, and my cooking skills are not good.” I replied coldly, “If you can’t cook, you can go out and buy.” I threw the apple in my daughter’s hand back to her. I thought after this, Sharon and I had fallen out. I just didn’t expect her skin to be thick enough to pretend nothing happened. Look, she is standing at my door now, holding her son Peter in one arm and holding Penny with the other. “Your child’s birthday is today. I won’t cook dinner tonight. They will eat at your place.” 2 She reached out to open my door. I pushed secretly behind the door to stop it from opening and said to her patiently, “Sorry, we don’t plan to celebrate Ashley’s birthday this year.” “We only prepared a small cake. You’d better take the children away.” Sharon was slightly surprised, “Not celebrating? Then why did I see someone delivering two boxes of stuff to your house at noon?” “Heard it was seafood. Just right, Penny and Peter haven’t eaten seafood for a long time. Isn’t this convenient?” She smiled and took out a red envelope from her bag and handed it to my daughter, “This is a little token from Auntie. Happy birthday to you.” I hurried to stop her, and Sharon kept pushing and shoving with me. It happened to be the time for getting off work and school. There were many people coming and going in the hallway, which inevitably attracted attention. Sharon loudly proclaimed that she was giving my daughter a red envelope, and neighbors praised her for her thoughtfulness. My husband waved his hand and stuffed the red envelope back into her bag, “Thank you for your kindness, but today we just want to celebrate as a family.” Penny and Peter took the opportunity to slip in through the crack of the door. They slipped into the kitchen, only hearing a clatter, the pot lid fell to the ground, and cheers came from inside: “Mom, their family really has king crabs and big lobsters.” I really didn’t expect two children to be so impolite. My husband went in and pulled the two children out. The two children were stubborn, grinning and pulling at my sofa, refusing to come out. Peter suddenly screamed. Sharon screamed: “Why did you hit my son?” My husband was severely reprimanded and lowered his head to explain that he didn’t hit anyone. Sharon rushed in and brought the children out, turning her head to lose her temper at me: “Isn’t it just a popsicle? Is it necessary for you to fuss about it until now?” “No one in the class plays with your daughter. Only my daughter is kind enough to play with her. What’s wrong with me letting her come to the birthday party? It’s not like eating and drinking for free.” “Isn’t it just king crab? If you don’t want to let us eat, just say so. No need to find disgusting excuses.” These words made it seem like my fault. A neighbor poked her head out: “Oh, Ashley’s mom, this is wrong of you. Your two families’ children play so well, yet you don’t invite them for a birthday?” “How big can a child’s appetite be? King crabs and lobsters aren’t that expensive. What’s wrong with eating a little?” “Besides, even if you don’t let them in, you can’t hit the child, especially in front of the parent.” I was about to explain when Sharon pulled Penny and Peter and slammed her own door shut with a “bang”. My husband and I looked at each other. We explained to the neighbors for a while before eliminating the misunderstanding. After that, I turned on the heat to steam the seafood, preparing to start eating. But the class group chat suddenly became lively. 3 The top message was a complaint from Sharon: 【Just can’t understand, how can there be such a neighbor?】 【For a birthday, I gave a red envelope. They made excuses saying they weren’t celebrating and even kicked my children out.】 【I wondered what the reason was. Turns out the family wants to eat king crab and lobster secretly.】 【How well my daughter plays with her daughter! To be treated like this?】 Parents below @Penny’s mom: “Did you send it to the wrong place?” The chat was quiet for three minutes. Penny’s mom: “Oh my, sorry to disturb parents and teachers. I did send it wrongly. Can’t withdraw now, everyone please ignore.” After all, there are people in the group who want to gossip. Someone @Penny’s mom: “The person you mentioned isn’t Ashley’s mom, right? You happen to be neighbors.” Sharon didn’t reply, but everyone started discussing. 【I asked my son. Today is indeed Ashley’s birthday. She promised my son she would invite him for her birthday, but suddenly reneged. My son is so sad.】 【By the way, shouldn’t a child’s birthday be livelier with more people?】 【Every year for my daughter’s birthday, I wish I could invite the whole class. How much money can it cost?】 【Oh my, I saw Ashley’s dad’s post on Moments. There really are king crabs, but they aren’t big.】 【Ashley’s mom didn’t do this well. How to say, petty.】 … I didn’t know many parents in the group, and they weren’t familiar with me either, but now they kept discussing me. I @Penny’s mom: “What black and white are you reversing? We clearly didn’t invite you. You came thick-skinned to give a red envelope yourself.” “What our family eats is none of your business.” “You tell your daughter to come to my house every day to freeload food and drink, and bring snacks back by the way. What did I say about you?” Penny’s mom @me: “Saying my daughter freeloads food and drink is too much, right? What did she eat from your house?” “If you put it that way, so does your daughter.” “Last time at my son’s birthday, she ate a bag of chips, two packs of Konjac snacks, three packs of spicy strips, and a big chicken leg at my house.” “Bought her a bottle of lemonade and an ice cream cone while shopping, and also bought her a piece of clothing.” “You are so stingy. I will never let my daughter go to your house again. The two children break off relations.” A parent sent a laughing-crying emoji: “My god Penny’s mom, you remember too clearly.” I also laughed on this side of the screen. A bag of chips, two packs of Konjac snacks, three packs of spicy strips, a big chicken leg, these were the only snacks at her son’s birthday that day. The things were eaten by three children together. Lemonade and ice cream cone were shared by my daughter and her daughter. The clothing bought was cheap street stall goods buy one get one free. I explained all these. Sharon said in the group that I was spitting blood (slandering). Seeing her anxious, I sent a 5-minute and 37-second recording to the group. 4 The recording started from the moment the door opened and Sharon said the first sentence. Listening to the voice, you can know how unreasonable she was. I also took screenshots of orders for things bought for her daughter in the past half year from shopping apps. Amounts ranged from 10-dollar pens to two or three hundred dollar dresses and shoes. @Penny’s mom: 【If I remember correctly, the dress your daughter is wearing today was bought by me. Eighth screenshot.】 “Everyone please judge for yourselves.” There was no movement in the group for the time being. Sharon messaged me frantically privately to withdraw the message, bombarding me with voice calls. I blocked her immediately and got temporary peace. After a few minutes, several parents added me as friends. I thought they wanted to say something, but they just asked me for shopping links. One parent said I was too honest, “Why are you so good to her daughter? No matter how well my child plays with partners, I can’t do this much.” A few more minutes later, the homeroom teacher disbanded the group and created a new one, “Parents, please don’t occupy public resources for private issues in the future.” This farce ended. After falling out with Sharon, I was a little worried about my daughter being discussed in class. Fortunately not. She said someone took the initiative to make friends with her. Penny was originally sitting in front of her. Now the seats have been adjusted, and the two basically don’t say a word now. Although Sharon and I are neighbors across the hall, without the children’s contact, we basically don’t meet. Sometimes seeing from a distance, she turns her head high before me. Neighbors wondered about our relationship. Later they also learned the whole story from others and came to a conclusion: “So this woman is so thick-skinned!” After a while, I found that the express cardboard boxes placed at the door of my house always disappeared inexplicably. I knew there was an auntie on the second floor who collected waste cardboard boxes, but she usually collected them in the trash bin and wouldn’t come to the floor. At first I didn’t pay attention. Waking up early this morning, I found rustling noises at the door. Looking through the peephole, it was Sharon. She took all my cardboard boxes.

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The year I was fourteen, I killed my parents with my own hands. Because I was a minor, the law couldn’t truly punish me. The day I was released, the whole town cursed in anger. But my younger siblings had nowhere else to go. They were forced to live with me, a murderer. They hated me. They feared me. Even the way they looked at me was filled with terror and disgust. It wasn’t until the doctor announced my impending death that everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They said a monster like me should have died long ago. But my siblings weren’t satisfied. They wanted to use the cruelest method possible to let the world see my true colors. They were going to read my memories and broadcast them live to the world. They wanted to prove to everyone: From the moment I was born, I was a rotten seed, through and through. Chapter 1 For twenty-five years, I never managed to escape that night I killed my parents. Now, my second brother, Julian, is an outstanding entrepreneur. My third brother, Felix, is an expert cardiac surgeon. And my youngest sister, Clara, is a famous pop star. At a reunion dinner, I smiled bitterly. “You’ve all made something of yourselves. Mom and Dad can finally rest in peace.” “They will only rest in peace when you die!” Julian slammed his bowl and chopsticks onto the table. “Stop pretending to be a good person, you murderer!” The first reunion in five years ended in chaos. The next time they heard news about me, it was a call from the police. “He killed someone again.” “Can’t they just execute him?” Felix said coldly. “He should have died back when he killed Mom and Dad.” The trial went smoothly. The sentence was death. But during the prison physical, the doctor discovered I had late-stage cancer. I had three months left. On my deathbed, I heard familiar voices. “As expected, a murderer just can’t stop killing!” Julian said with disgust. “The whole hospital is gossiping that I have a patricidal brother. I’m too ashamed to show my face,” Felix complained. “My schedule is ruined, and my chances for the Golden Melody Award are gone!” Clara pouted. After a moment of silence, Julian suddenly spoke up. “I heard the Academy of Sciences has a Memory Reader. It can extract his memories.” “If we make them public, everyone will know he was born a devil. And we… we are just his victims.” They hit it off immediately and contacted the authorities to bring the equipment. “Mr. Lin, although this device can read deep memories, the side effects are irreversible. The human body will suffer severe damage, and accidental death is a possibility. We need you to sign this waiver.” Felix immediately grabbed the agreement and signed it. “I’m a doctor. I’ll take responsibility if he dies.” Clara contacted the livestream platform. She wanted the whole world to see clearly just how much I deserved to die. Soon, the broadcast began. My siblings put on the special glasses to view the memories. The blurred images slowly sharpened into clarity. [Scene One] It was less than a year after our parents died. The noodle shop they left behind was barely surviving. I was not yet fifteen, trying to lead three younger siblings. How could we not be bullied? Business was terrible due to the heavy winter snow. After paying the protection fee to the local gangs, I didn’t even know where next month’s food money would come from. “Hey! Felix has a high fever! It’s 104 degrees!” Julian suddenly ran out from the back room. He was always afraid of me. Even when speaking to me, he hid behind the door frame. I looked at the $15.70 left in my hand and gritted my teeth. “Julian, you take care of the little ones. I’m going out.” Before he could respond, I pushed open the door and walked into the darkness. [Comments from Siblings] “Look at that! Even when Felix was burning up with a fever, he just ignored it and went out to play!” “It’s a miracle we survived this long.” Chapter 2 The scene shifted. I arrived at the only pharmacy in town. “Auntie, can I give you 15 dollars for this fever reducer first? I’ll bring the rest in two days when I earn some money.” “Go away! Get out! You evil curse who killed your own parents!” Seeing it was me, the owner’s wife chased me out with a broom. Everyone in town knew I had killed my parents. No matter where I went, people pointed fingers. No one dared to talk to me. I had no choice. While the woman went into the back room, I sneaked in, stuffed the fever medicine into my jacket, left the 15 dollars on the counter, and ran. But I wasn’t fast enough. The owner and his wife chased me down in the snow. “You bad seed! You dare to steal!” The owner kicked me to the ground, glaring at me viciously. “Where’s the medicine? Hand it over!” “I left the money on the table! Please! My little brother has a fever! Just give me two days! I’ll pay the rest as soon as I earn it!” The woman threw the coins hard into my face. “Who wants a murderer’s money?! Give it back!” I curled up, protecting the medicine in my chest, refusing to let go. The owner, seeing my stubbornness, flew into a rage. He pulled a cleaver from his belt and pressed it against my right pinky finger. “You better hand it over! Or I’ll chop off this thief’s finger!” No matter how he threatened, I insisted I had already swallowed it. Fury overtook him. He swung the knife. Chop. “AHHHH!!!!” The scream tore through the night sky. The pain was excruciating. I fainted instantly. It was the first time the couple had seen so much blood. Terrified, they turned and ran. Under the heavy snow, my skinny, unconscious body was quickly buried in white. When I woke up, it was already the next morning. Luckily, the extreme cold had frozen the wound shut. I bandaged it crudely and stumbled home. “Why are you back so late?” Julian complained as I walked in. “Nothing. Give the medicine to Felix. I have things to do.” I handed over the medicine with my left hand, hiding my right hand behind my back. As I walked away, Julian’s complaints faded into the background… Back in the hospital room, Felix ripped off the VR glasses. “Impossible! I asked him about his finger later! He said he accidentally cut it off while cooking!” “Julian, is this machine broken?” Clara asked, disbelief written on her face. Julian, who hated me the most, looked pale. He muttered to himself, “It shouldn’t be… This is the latest invention, specifically used to interrogate spies.” The three of them found it incredible. The memories were too different from the monster they thought they knew. Chapter 3 [Scene Two] In the vision, I looked at Clara. “Are you sure you want to study music?” Time had passed. Clara had reached a crossroads in life. But the tuition for art school was exorbitant, and the family couldn’t afford it. “Yes! I want to study music!” Clara responded firmly. Looking at her serious face, I stood up and left the house without a word. [Comments from Siblings] “Thank god Julian paid my tuition back then, otherwise I wouldn’t be here today.” “Yeah, as soon as he heard about spending money, he left. He had zero responsibility! So unlucky to have lived with him!” After complaining, they continued watching. From that day on, besides running the noodle shop during the day, I started working at a nightclub. The tips for opening bottles and drinking with rich women were decent. Sometimes, generous patrons would tip heavily. The customers were handsy, but I endured it for every extra bottle opened. It’s just a few touches. I’m a man, what’s there to lose? As long as Clara can go to college. “What are you dazing off for? Toast Madam Mona.” A man’s voice pulled me back to reality. Madam Mona was a large woman in flashy clothes, smelling of strong perfume and alcohol. She stared at me lecherously. “Hey, handsome. You’re so pale. Come have a drink with big sister… hehe…” She pulled me into her arms. Panicked, I struggled to break free. “Mona… Sister Mona… I’m just here to open bottles…” “Damn it! Pretending to be pure? Get over here!” Feeling humiliated in front of her entourage, she flew into a rage. “Sister Mona… sorry, I’ll drink this glass… my apologies…” Just as I tried to smooth things over, she advanced on me again. The guys around her cheered. “Mona’s mighty! Get him!” Years of hard labor gave me strength. I pushed her away hard. But as I tried to run, a wine bottle smashed directly onto my forehead. Crash. Intense pain blinded me. I collapsed to the floor, bright red blood gushing down my face. “Ah! Murder!” The other hosts screamed. The police arrived and rounded everyone up. To avoid jail time, Madam Mona offered a settlement. I didn’t want to accept it. Why should rich people buy their way out of jail? But then I thought of Clara’s tuition. “I want money. A lot of money.” I wiped the blood from my eyes, my voice trembling but firm. After getting the compensation, I continued working at the club to support the family. It took a month for the wound on my forehead to heal, leaving a long, thin scar. It made my face look terrifying. I looked in the mirror, touched the scar, and eventually walked into a tattoo parlor. I tattooed a blood-red rose over the scar. Long nights of drinking and overwork destroyed my health. After being rushed to the ER for gastric bleeding, I finally quit. The kids haven’t grown up yet. I can’t collapse now. … In the hospital room, Clara stared at the screen where her big brother lay on the floor, blood pooling around his head. Her hands shook uncontrollably. “My tuition… was earned like this?” Her voice broke. “Julian, didn’t you say…” Julian’s face was ashen. “That day… two bundles of cash just appeared in my schoolbag. I thought…” On screen, I reached out a blood-stained hand, trembling. “One hundred and fifty thousand… I’ll settle.” The blood on my face contrasted sharply with my pale skin. The memory shocked the three siblings. But prejudice is a mountain not easily moved. “Calm down,” Julian said, though his voice wavered. “Him killing Mom and Dad is a fact. Who knows, maybe he just liked being a gigolo. You can’t judge a beast by human standards.” “At that age, we didn’t even know what a nightclub was. He knew exactly where to go to make money off rich women. Disgusting.” Despite the shock, they refused to believe. The livestream viewers were in a frenzy. On the bed, my body twitched violently from the machine’s side effects. My face was paper-white. A staff member tried to pause it. “Don’t stop,” Julian ordered coldly. “A patricide doesn’t deserve pity. Continue. We want the truth.” Chapter 4 [Scene Three] I was called to the principal’s office. “Liam, although your family situation is difficult, your grades have always been excellent. The school has secured a recommended admission spot for you at the Normal University.” “It’s a full scholarship. This is your chance to escape this small town and live your own life.” The admission notice and scholarship letter were placed in my hands. “Thank you, teacher! I won’t let you down!” I wept with joy. I ran back to the shop, packing my bags with dreams of a bright future. [Comments from Siblings] “See? The moment he got a chance, he packed his bags. He planned to dump us.” “We’re lucky he didn’t kill us before he left.” In the memory, I was calculating how to sell the noodle shop and move the whole family to the city. I could work part-time while studying… But that night, Clara clutched her stomach, screaming in pain. Acute appendicitis. Immediate surgery required. Cost: Five thousand dollars. I had nothing. I knelt before the doctor in the corridor. “Doctor, please save my sister first. I’ll get the money!” “Okay, but hurry.” I rushed home and turned the place upside down. Only three thousand. My eyes fell on the admission notice on the table. I stood up numbly. With a dead look in my eyes, I tore the admission letter into pieces and walked into the dark alley. “I want to sell blood. How much?” “You’re too skinny. One thousand.” “Sell!” The needle pierced my skin. Dark red blood was pumped out until I felt dizzy. Still not enough. I gritted my teeth and went to the place I feared most. “Brother Scar, can you lend me a thousand? My sister needs surgery. I’ll pay you back!” “Pay back? With what?” Scar narrowed his eyes, licking his teeth. “A bowl of noodles is five bucks. That’s two hundred bowls. Plus interest?” “Tell you what… I heard you disrespected Madam Mona. Do one thing for me, and I’ll give you a thousand. No repayment needed.” Before I could refuse, his thugs surrounded me. Scar slammed a dagger onto the table. “You disrespect Mona, and now you want money? Be obedient, or I’ll kill you and your sister!” “Kneel! Apologize to Mona!” He pulled out his phone to record. “Hahaha, mess him up!” After I knelt and apologized, they beat me. Raindrops of fists and kicks fell on me until I went numb. “Kid, I’m a man of my word. Stab yourself once, and I’ll give you two hundred.” “Doesn’t your sister need money?” Outside the memory, the siblings stood up, staring nervously. In the memory, I looked at the cold dagger. Fear gripped me. But Clara needed the money… My hand reached out, trembling, and grasped the hilt. Chapter 5 “Don’t do it!” Julian suddenly roared, standing up. He gasped for air, unable to calm down. Felix and Clara stood with mouths agape. Clara, who always thought I didn’t accompany her to surgery because I didn’t care, realized I was selling my blood and dignity to save her. “How dare he… what if they were playing him? What if he died?!” “He’s crazy!” Felix punched the mirror in the ward, blood trickling down his knuckles. The screen flickered with static, then continued. Clara pulled off the glasses, burying her face in her hands, sobbing. “Sob… I… I told everyone he was a bad kid back then… always out, getting tattoos…” “Why didn’t he tell us… Eldest Brother… wuu…” Lying on the hospital bed, hearing her call me “Eldest Brother,” my heart rate monitor spiked. It was the first time she had called me that since she grew up. [Comments from Netizens] 【What the hell? Didn’t they say he abused them? If this is abuse, what is responsibility?】 【This is heartbreaking. Liam was just a kid himself, yet he raised them all to be successful. And they force this machine on him? Animals!】 【Don’t forget, he’s a murderer! Does raising siblings justify killing parents? Maybe he’s just atoning for his sins!】 Reading the comments, Felix snapped back to reality. “The netizens are right. Nothing changes the fact that he killed Mom and Dad.” Julian lit a cigarette, his hand shaking. For the first time, his hatred wavered. “Do you want to continue? The patient is in critical condition…” the staff asked. “Continue,” Julian interrupted, his voice choking. “Fast forward. I want to know why he killed them.”

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In the forty years we were married, he never let me suffer a moment of hardship. Even now, with children and grandchildren filling our home, he still reached across the dinner table to place the tenderest cut of the fish fillet into my bowl. I thought this was the definition of growing old together. That illusion shattered the day I went down to the basement to look for old things. I accidentally knocked over a heavy, clay jar of aged Port—the one he had sealed and hidden away for her. He burst in, looking like a madman, and his hands closed around my throat. “That is not yours to touch.” “That was the last memory she left me!” Then, he stormed out in a fit of rage, locking me inside the cold, damp cellar. “Since your hands are so careless, you can stay down here and reflect!” The heavy iron door of the basement slammed shut, and the darkness swallowed everything. But he forgot. I had just had triple-bypass surgery. I had no strength, and the cold was the one thing I couldn’t endure. 1 I was completely sealed in the dark. The iron door banged shut with a deafening clang, the locking sound dull and absolute, like a hammer blow straight to my heart. I lunged forward, using every ounce of my post-surgery strength to pull at the frigid metal handle. It didn’t budge, feeling as fused to the frame as it was to my stiffening arm. “Open the door! Rob, open the door!” I pounded on the paneling, my voice echoing and ricocheting in the cramped space, yet barely traveling far enough to matter. I tried to find the light. My hand fumbled along the wall, finding the familiar, old-fashioned pull-chain. I pressed the switch repeatedly, hearing the hollow click-clack, click-clack, but the dim bulb overhead had no intention of lighting up. The wiring was ancient; he’d always promised to fix it, but always forgot. Before, even when the door was locked, I could usually slip a finger through the narrow gap and work the latch open bit by bit. But not now. My body was still betraying me after the surgery. Forget slipping my hand into the crack—the simple act of raising my arm drained the last of my energy. I slid down the door and collapsed onto the floor. The biting dampness from the concrete seeped into my bones. In the dark, hallucinations began to bloom. I saw him putting the fish fillet in my bowl, saw him getting up at midnight to tuck me back in, saw him pushing my wheelchair to the park for some sunshine. Forty years of tenderness flashed before me. But then, that distorted, contorted face from moments ago reappeared, his eyes filled with a hatred that threatened to consume me whole. “That is not yours to touch!” The violent contrast made me reel, and the familiar, tightening ache in my chest began. Upstairs, a loud crash shook the house, the sound of porcelain smashing violently. Then a muffled thud, as if a large piece of furniture had been overturned—the bookshelf? I had never seen him that angry. In our forty years, Rob had always been gentle and reserved; he rarely even raised his voice. He didn’t drink, which everyone, including his friends, knew. Yet now, he was upstairs, breaking things like a maniac, all for a jar of vintage Port that had materialized out of nowhere. I had seen that jar. It was tucked into the darkest corner of the basement in an old wooden crate, with a small, yellowed label bearing a delicate, script “S” on it. I had always assumed he’d made it himself in his youth, a silly hobby. I was wrong. This whole time, forty years of domestic tranquility, of children and grandchildren, meant less than that one jar of fortified wine left by another woman. My husband, for the sake of a memory of someone else, had locked me, his wife just recovered from major heart surgery, in this cold, pitch-black cellar. It was absurd, and utterly heartbreaking. … The survival instinct pushed the sorrow aside. I could not die here. I leaned against the wall, struggling to my feet, and used all my remaining strength to shout up at the ceiling. “Rob! Open the door! I… I don’t feel well…” My voice was hoarse, a barely audible whisper. I could barely hear myself. The crashing sounds upstairs ceased. A flicker of hope ignited in me. Did he hear me? I tried again, louder: “Open up! I can’t breathe!” A moment later, his voice drifted down from the ceiling, muffled and indistinct through the thick concrete floor. “What are you yelling about? Swearing at me? That is no way to behave!” He hadn’t heard a word I said. He’d only heard the frantic tone of my voice and immediately assumed I was yelling obscenities at him. “Unrepentant! You stay put and reflect on what you’ve done!” His voice was filled with annoyance and impatience. The flicker of hope was thoroughly extinguished by his dismissal. Reflect? What was I supposed to reflect on? Reflect on discovering a secret he’d kept hidden for forty years? Or reflect on accidentally breaking the last memento left by the woman he truly loved? He wasn’t like this before. He normally wouldn’t say a harsh word to me, but now he was like a different person, demanding an apology. It was useless to rely on him. I fumbled for the cell phone in my pocket—my only hope. The faint glow of the screen was the sole source of light in this oppressive darkness. My hand trembling, I tapped the contacts list. The signal in the basement was terrible, just a single, flickering bar. First, I called my daughter. No connection. Then my son-in-law. Still the cold, busy signal. My heart pounded with desperate urgency as my finger scrolled down the long list, finally stopping on my son, Owen’s, name. I pressed the dial button. “Doo… doo…” After an agonizing wait, the call actually connected! “Mom? What is it?” Owen’s voice came through the receiver, laced with concern. “Owen… help… help me…” I desperately tried to speak, but the sound that came out was too weak to carry. “Mom? What are you saying? I can’t hear you! Why is it so loud on your end? All that static.” The signal was failing. My voice was completely drowned out by the crackling. “Mom? Where are you? Talk to me!” My son was frantic on the other end. I screamed with all my strength, but he heard nothing. After a few seconds, the call disconnected. Immediately, the shrill ring of the landline upstairs in Rob’s study cut through the silence. It was Owen calling the house phone! I pressed my ear against the frigid iron door, straining to make out the conversation upstairs. “Dad, where’s Mom?” “Your mother? She’s sleeping, just laid down.” Rob’s voice sounded perfectly calm, even carrying a hint of an easy laugh. “What’s wrong?” “She just called me, didn’t say anything, and hung up. I was worried.” “Oh, she probably pressed the wrong button in her sleep. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” “Okay… alright, Dad, you should get some rest, too.” The phone clicked off. Upstairs, the silence returned, heavy and final. My heart sank completely into the ice. Even our son was so easily fooled by his casual lie. I couldn’t give up. I opened the text message screen. My fingers, numb from cold and exhaustion, shook uncontrollably. Writing each word felt like it consumed all my strength. “Owen, I’m in the basement, your father locked me in, please come.” I stared at the words, then pressed the send button. A red exclamation mark and the “Send Failed” notification pierced my eyes. Refusing to believe it, I tried to resend it again and again. But the red exclamation mark seemed to mock my futile efforts. I tried Owen’s number again. The number that had just connected now only returned a “Cannot connect to signal” message. The signal was completely gone. The light on my phone screen finally flickered, using up its last bit of power, and died. I was thrown back into the endless, suffocating darkness. This time, there was not a single trace of light. … Just then, a knock broke the study’s silence. “Knock, knock, knock.” Rob froze, looking cautiously at the door, not immediately answering. The knocking came again, accompanied by a familiar woman’s voice: “Ellie? Are you home? It’s Pat.” It was Patricia, my neighbor and my bridge partner. Rob let out a quiet breath of relief. He straightened his slightly rumpled collar, walked over, and opened the door. “Can I help you?” His voice had recovered its usual calm, sounding entirely normal. Pat poked her head into the house. Seeing only him, she paused, then raised the plastic container in her hand, smiling warmly. “I heard Ellie was home from the hospital. Figured she needs to build her strength up. So, I brought over some of my famous lasagna for her to try.” She peered further inside. “Where is Ellie? Is she asleep?” “Yes, just laid down.” Rob stood in the doorway, blocking Pat from entering. “Oh, well, she needs to rest, that surgery is no small thing.” Pat asked with genuine concern, “How is she doing? Recovering well?” “She’s fine. Doctor said lots of rest.” Rob’s replies were brief and dismissive, his eyes darting away, avoiding Pat’s gaze. Pat and Rob didn’t interact much, so she simply assumed this was his naturally reserved, quiet demeanor and didn’t think much of it. She pushed the lasagna container into his hands and instructed him, “Well, you take good care of her. This is easy on the stomach. Tell Ellie that when she’s feeling better, I’d love for her to come over for a game of bridge. We haven’t had a proper foursome in ages.” “Sure.” Rob muttered vaguely. Seeing his reluctance, Pat didn’t linger. She waved goodbye and walked away. Rob closed the door and stood in the foyer, holding the lasagna. Pat’s words were like a bucket of cold water, suddenly snapping him back to reality. He remembered then: I had just had surgery. The doctor had been crystal clear—absolute rest, no stress, and no exposure to the cold. The anger on his face drained away, replaced by a barely perceptible flicker of remorse. He walked to the basement door, his hand resting on the cold doorknob. He hesitated for a long moment, then tentatively called my name. “…Ellie?” He had already started to soften. Normally, he would be apologizing by now. No, normally, he would never, ever lock me in a cold, dark place. He wouldn’t even let me go down there myself to fetch something, always insisting it was too stuffy and he’d do it. But this time, he thought I had gone too far. He told himself that if I just swallowed my pride and said one small word of apology, he would open the door immediately. No matter what, a few hours of reflection was surely enough punishment. But the only reply that came from the basement was a sudden, sharp, smashing sound. That was me. The darkness and the cold had caused my limbs to grow stiff. I could no longer maintain my upright stance. My body went limp, and I fell straight down. As I went down, I instinctively tried to grab something to steady myself, but my hand missed, knocking over a stack of glass jars and bottles on a nearby shelf. The sound of the glass shattering reached his ears, but to him, it was proof of my unrepentant attitude, a deliberate act of destruction to vent my anger. The rage he had just managed to suppress instantly reignited. “Fine! You think you can play games with me!” he sneered. The faint hint of guilt in his eyes vanished completely. “I guess you do need a lesson!” With that, he turned and walked away, no longer hesitating. I lay on the icy concrete floor, desperately trying to open my mouth to call for help, to tell him it wasn’t on purpose, to tell him I was in terrible pain. But my throat felt completely blocked, and I couldn’t force out a single sound. My skull had struck the hard ground with a heavy impact, and a warm, slick fluid quickly spread around my head. My consciousness began to fade, and the world dissolved into a hazy, suffocating dimness. … I died. My soul floated up, weightless, passing straight through the heavy iron door, and followed him back to the study. He didn’t turn on the lights. He used the sliver of moonlight filtering through the window to pull a small, deep-set photo frame from his bottom drawer. He traced the glass again and again with his thumb. “Seraph… I’m so sorry… I couldn’t even hold onto the last thing you gave me…” His voice was broken and thick with suppressed tears. “They all said it was your blessing for me, to find my happiness, to drink on my wedding day… But how could I ever drink it…” He spoke in a low murmur, as if talking to the person in the frame, but also as if he were explaining himself to me. “No one knew that the man you married was an animal… He hurt you… When I finally went to find you, it was already too late… too late…” Floating beside him, I finally saw the picture. A delicate, beautiful girl with braids, her eyes crinkling into a soft smile. It was his childhood friend, Seraphina. That jar of Port was his life’s regret, the only memory of her he had secretly cherished for forty years. … A sudden thought hit me. Just last month, I had been helping him tidy the study and had accidentally come across this hidden photo frame. He had walked in just then, seen me holding it, and his expression had changed drastically. He’d snatched it away and locked it back in the drawer. I actually hadn’t clearly seen who was in the picture. I had simply found his overreaction odd. Later, I’d grown concerned because he was staying up late reading, neglecting his health, and we’d had a petty argument, cold-shouldering each other for days. Now, I realized: he must have thought I had seen his first love’s photo and was deliberately picking a fight, being difficult. In his eyes, my concern and my irritation over his health had all been twisted into evidence of my jealousy and irrational behavior. How ridiculous. I was worried sick about his health, and he thought I was jealous of a ghost. I was slowly losing my life in a cold, dark cellar because of his cruel indifference. And here he was, staring at his first love’s photo, quietly mourning his youthful, incomplete romance. What separated us was far more than a simple iron door. I thought back to when we were first married. He truly was good to me. He remembered my preferences—my dislike for onions and garlic. He’d quietly bring me herbal tea during my cycle. He’d subtly protect me when his mother was being difficult. Those moments of tenderness were the harbor I thought I could rely on for a lifetime. But now, those memories felt like a thousand sharp needles, piercing my soul with pain. The truth was, all his kindness had only existed because I was “well-behaved,” because I “knew my place,” and never dared to cross the boundary of that forbidden zone in his heart named “Seraphina.” As he sank deeper into his personal grief, his gaze unknowingly swept across another photo on his desk: our family portrait. In the photo, our son, Owen, newly an adult, was standing between us in a sharp suit. I was clutching his arm, smiling radiantly. Rob’s expression was serious, but the corners of his eyes and mouth held a faint, undeniable joy. I remembered the day we took that photo. I had teased him, saying, “Rob, look, our hair is all white. We have to make it all the way, together, to see Owen get married and have kids.” How had he answered? He had said, “I promise.” Now, Owen was married with a child, but we wouldn’t make it to the end. Looking at my smiling face in the picture, Rob’s eyes finally showed a flicker of real emotion. He reached out, trying to touch the photo, but his finger stopped inches from the frame. He was softening. Perhaps those forty years of coexistence, of mutual respect, were not completely devoid of feeling. He did love me. But that love, in the end, could not measure up to the fleeting, breathtaking image of his teenage “white moonlight.” He likely felt my punishment had gone on long enough. After sitting motionless in the study for hours, the light outside turning from dusk to night, he finally stood up and slowly walked to the basement door. His jaw was clenched tight, his face expressionless, but the worry in his eyes betrayed him. He had regretted it the moment he closed the door. He regretted it when Pat brought the lasagna. He regretted it when he confessed his heartache to the old photo. But he needed me to break first, to apologize. In his mind, I was the one who had broken his sacred object; I had committed the first offense. He cleared his throat. His hand rested on the cold doorknob, but he didn’t turn it. He was waiting. Waiting for me to cry, waiting for me to beg, waiting for me to utter the words, “I was wrong.” If I did, he would open the door, hold me in his arms, and say he forgave me. I only felt a terrible, biting irony. My soul hovered in the air. Jealousy? I hadn’t even known the woman existed. How could I have been jealous? I had only accidentally shattered a jar of wine—a jar I thought was one of his silly youthful attempts at brewing. But the body of the woman inside the basement could no longer make a sound. My physical form was already cold, curled up in the corner like a discarded rag. The utter silence from within the door, to him, was simply proof of my silent protest. He remembered our old arguments, how I would always start a cold war, refusing to speak, waiting for him to break first, to come and smooth things over, to apologize. He thought I was doing the same thing now. He believed I was deliberately silent, holding out until he came begging for my forgiveness. A fresh wave of irrational anger surged through him, burning away the small amount of guilt he’d managed to muster. This was his only memento. In his mind, he had already given me every opportunity, yet I was still refusing to be grateful. “Fine! Go on, play your silent game!” he gritted out, the words squeezed through his teeth. “I’m done with you. If you want to stay in there, stay there forever!” With that, he slammed his hand against the door and turned back toward his room. The bang was so loud it shook the walls. And I, the woman he had just condemned, had no strength left to push that door open. My body lay alone in the freezing basement, accompanied only by the shards of glass and the spilled wine. … The world outside fell completely dark. Closer to evening, the sound of a car engine grew louder, pulling up to the curb. Owen, our son, was finally home from work. He arrived with his wife and our grandson, carrying bags of things meant to help my recovery. Even though Rob had used the “butt dial” excuse on the phone earlier in the day, Owen remained unsettled. So, the moment he clocked out, he rushed over with his family to see me for himself. “Dad, open up!” Owen called out from the porch. Rob opened the door. Seeing his lively, adorable grandson, the tension that had gripped his face all day finally eased. “Grandpa!” The little boy rushed into his arms, shouting sweetly. Rob picked up the grandson, his mood lightening considerably. “Where’s Grandma? I brought her favorite apple turnovers!” The grandson held up a small box, looking around the room for me. Rob’s forced smile froze for a second. He mumbled, “Grandma… Grandma is tired. She’s sleeping.” The little boy wiggled free of his grandfather’s arms, his small nose twitching in the air. He pointed innocently toward the basement door, his brow furrowed. “Grandpa, what’s that smell? It smells funny.” An indescribable, strange, faintly sickly odor was beginning to seep out from under the door. Rob’s heart gave a violent lurch, but he quickly composed himself, dismissing it casually. “Oh, probably just the leftover fish smell from the lasagna Pat brought over earlier.” He paid no more attention to it. Owen and his wife exchanged a look. The atmosphere in the house was entirely wrong. Ever since they’d walked in, Rob had been distracted, shifty-eyed, and completely unwilling to talk about my condition. It was deeply unsettling. “Dad, where exactly is Mom?” Owen’s smile vanished, his voice turning serious. “How is her health, really? Don’t lie to me.” Under his son’s intense stare, Rob grew flustered. He tried to change the subject. “Your mother is fine. What could possibly be wrong…” “Fine?” Owen pressed harder. “If she’s fine, why won’t she come out to see us? If she’s fine, why did you turn off your cell phone? I called you dozens of times this afternoon!” Having his lies exposed and being cornered by his son in front of his daughter-in-law and grandson, Rob’s face turned a mottled purple. That fragile, pitiful pride, combined with the shame of being exposed, caused him to explode. Like a cornered animal, he sharply raised his voice and roared, “She’s reflecting! She’s down in the basement reflecting!” He pointed furiously at the basement door, his anger spilling out as he accused me: “Your mother is narrow-minded! She can’t stand to look at a simple jar of wine, can’t tolerate one single memory of my past!” Hearing this, Owen and his wife looked at each other, both stunned and bewildered. They knew me too well. I had always been the one to respect everyone’s privacy, especially Rob’s. I never touched his study; I never rummaged through his old things. “A jar of wine? What wine?” Owen demanded. Under his son’s piercing gaze, Rob finally crumbled, his voice weakening as he stammered out the truth: “…It was Seraphina’s Port… the only memento she left me… and your mother shattered it.” “Who is Seraphina?” “My… my childhood sweetheart.” Owen heard this and nearly laughed from the sheer rage and disbelief. He bit out a harsh rebuke. “The sweetheart’s wine? Dad, be reasonable! Did Mom know that was her wine? She didn’t even know you had a childhood sweetheart! How could she possibly shatter a jar out of jealousy?” “She nearly killed herself giving birth to me! She’s worried herself sick for this family her whole life! And for a single jar of wine, you locked a patient who just had heart surgery in a freezing basement?” “No matter what you think she did, you had no right to do this to her!” Owen’s words were a heavy blow, smashing Rob’s self-delusion. He finally woke up. He remembered me clumsily learning to cook his favorite meals when we were first married; remembered me nursing him through a bad sickness; remembered everything I had given to this family over the forty years. All the ordinary, consistent warmth he had deliberately ignored suddenly flooded his mind. He finally remembered my goodness. In the end, his love, however flawed, was a truth too late. With Owen’s urging, Rob reluctantly gave in, muttering an agreement, and followed him to the basement door. But he still held onto his pride, yelling toward the door: “If you just apologize, I’ll forgive you. Let’s forget this ever happened! We’ve been married for decades, don’t be so dramatic. The kids are watching!” Seeing his father’s stubbornness—his hard mouth and soft heart—Owen wasted no more time on him. He snatched the key from Rob’s pocket and jammed it into the lock. “Click.” The door unlocked. Even in the second before the door was fully pushed open, Rob was still grumbling. “See? She’s always like this, the stubborn streak. She could come out on her own, but she has to make a scene until the whole family comes to coax her. Every time…” The door was violently flung open. The dim overhead light spilled into the darkness. In the corner, a small figure was curled up. My body was already stiff and blue, tear tracks dried on my face, my eyes vacant, staring fixedly at the ceiling. At that moment, the noise outside the door ceased abruptly. Rob’s complaint died in his throat. His daughter-in-law covered her mouth, a low, strangled gasp escaping her. The little grandson hid behind his father, terrified to look. Everyone froze. Time seemed to stand still.

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I finally worked up the courage to confess to my crush before graduation. I wrote him a long, heartfelt essay. He rejected me politely, saying he liked someone else. Bitterly, I typed back: “I wish you happiness.” “Xander.” He replied with a question mark. “?” “I’m Liam.” Crap. Did I just confess to the Valedictorian by mistake? 1 There was a legend at our school. Handsome, top of the class, plays varsity basketball. His name is Liam Stone. With one year left until graduation, I was sitting comfortably at the top of the class rankings and feeling a bit bored. I decided I needed a crush to spice things up. But half the school was in love with Liam Stone. I knew I didn’t stand a chance in that queue. So, I set my sights on Liam’s desk-mate and best buddy. Xander Cruz. A tanned, athletic jock who was back in senior year to catch up on his academics. 2 Week one of observing Xander: I discovered he was actually pretty nice. When I dropped my pen, he, sitting in front of me, would eagerly pick it up. Unlike Liam, who was cold and silent. Liam sat there like an ice sculpture, never even turning his head. Week two of observing Xander: I discovered he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Compared to the genius Liam next to him, it was… noticeable. But I figured I needed some motivation to come to school, so I forced myself to have a crush on him. I couldn’t like Liam. He was too out of reach. 3 Soon, I found another pro for Xander. Stamina. During the track meet, he ran the 1000 meters without gasping, like an ox. Liam, on the other hand, turned red despite his pale skin. At the finish line, he was bent over, panting. I walked towards Xander with a water bottle, but saw a crowd of girls already surrounding him. Suddenly, I felt resistant. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam. He had straightened up and was standing properly near the finish line, quite close to me. I handed the water to him instead. Liam coughed lightly before speaking. “Thanks.” I shook my head, looking at Xander surrounded by the crowd, feeling a bit disappointed. Seems Xander is popular too. 4 Recently, the school forum started a poll for “School Hottie.” Xander snuck his phone into study hall to show me. Currently, the security guard at the gate was #1. Liam was #2. Xander was somewhere in the double digits. My desk-mate, Sarah, sighed. “The guard is just a meme. Everyone knows the real king is Liam.” Xander suddenly asked me. “Grace, what do you think?” In the front row, Liam, who was focused on his work, leaned back imperceptibly. I didn’t notice. “I think you’re good-looking too, Xander.” Xander raised an eyebrow, glanced at Liam, and laughed. “I think so too. Honestly, Liam is just average.” He leaned closer to talk to me. “Grace, you have great taste!” Obviously. I spent a month forcing myself to find this tanned jock attractive. Xander leaned even closer. He whispered, “Do you really think I’m better looking than Liam?” Glancing at Liam’s cold, pale profile, I hesitated for a second, then nodded immediately. “Absolutely.” Xander was so happy his eyebrows danced. He kept stealing glances at Liam. He wanted to say more. But Liam spoke coldly. “You’re loud.” Must have disturbed his studying. But we were whispering. So unfriendly… 5 I missed the last monthly exam, so this time I was in the same exam room as Xander. With thirty minutes left, I finished my paper and got bored, so I observed Xander. He wasn’t writing. He was looking around. He scanned half the room and found me. He jerked his chin at me, holding a paper ball. Is he asking for answers? “Grace, for you…” The proctor walked over right then and grabbed Xander’s hand. “Student, I’ve been watching you. Cheating? What is this?” The teacher opened the paper ball. I looked over curiously. If he was asking for answers, my crush was about to turn into trash. The paper was flattened. Inside… Was a piece of gum. Xander smiled shyly. “I saw she was bored. Giving her a snack.” The proctor and I were both silent. After the exam, Liam came over. Weird. Usually, he studied in his own exam room. Liam stood in front of Xander, his back to me, showing a handsome profile, standing straight. I didn’t know what they were saying. “Grace, how did you do?” Liam suddenly turned to ask me. “Pretty good.” Liam pursed his lips and nodded. Why ask? Trying to steal my rank? Schemer. During the second exam, I finished and watched Xander again. He took out his phone. I thought he was cheating, but he just scrolled TikTok for the whole period. Didn’t even read comments, just scrolling. Giggling while scrolling. After the exam, I asked him how he dared to bring a phone. He looked shocked. “How did you know?” Then he laughed dryly and whispered. “I was bored. Didn’t know any of the answers.” “Why didn’t you look them up?” Xander looked at me, righteous. “That would be cheating!” Me: …Respect. 6 Results came out. I was first again. Surprisingly, Liam was second. I have to admit, in senior year, Liam improved fast. Only a few dozen points behind me. But he still needs practice. Next time, I’ll control my score to give him false hope. Hehe, fun. 7 Xander got a 250. Not an insult. He ranked 250th in the grade. Sarah laughed at him, but he wasn’t mad. “So many people in the grade, and I got this specific rank. I’m the chosen one.” I chimed in. “The chosen idiot?” Xander rubbed the back of his head, eyes bright like a puppy. “I’ll do better next time.” I found another pro for Xander. Optimism. 8 Liam kept asking me questions lately, so I had no time to observe Xander. Between classes, he stood by my desk in his uniform, holding a pen with those pale, defined fingers, looking down at me. “Grace, do you know how to solve this?” I couldn’t refuse. I watched him walk to my side. His exquisite eyes stared at me, listening intently. Liam smelled like cold, clean air. It was nice. One question after another. During evening study hall, he even took Sarah’s seat. Sarah praised his thirst for knowledge. But why did he keep asking me simple questions? And chatting with me. Seriously, I suspect Liam wants to steal my first place. 9 No progress with Xander. I actively asked Xander if he had any questions. Xander thought for a moment and opened his chemistry book. “Why is this element here? Can’t it be over there?” Me: … “Ask Mendeleev.” Xander looked blank, staring at me with clear, stupid eyes. “Who’s Mendeleev? An exchange student?” I suddenly got the ick. Maybe I should like Liam. At least he knows Mendeleev. 10 My stomach was upset during study hall. Coming out of the bathroom, I bumped into Liam and Xander. Xander wasn’t in uniform, wearing a black tee. His back looked muscular. Liam was in uniform, slender and straight like a poplar tree. Different styles. I had to admit, my eyes were easily drawn to Liam. I decided to like Liam. Then I heard Xander teasing Liam: “Peacocking much? Did you hear? The girl you like said I’m better looking than you~” Liam pursed his lips, the air around him dropping in temperature. “None of your business.” They walked away. I stood there frozen. So Liam has someone he likes. Guess I have to force myself to like Xander after all. The next morning, I told Sarah that Liam had a crush, so she should stop liking him. Sarah pouted. “I was just joking. Liam looks unreachable. Who would actually like him?” I agreed deeply. Someone like Liam is for viewing, not touching. Especially since he’s taken. “But who on earth thinks Xander is better looking than Liam?” Sarah mused. “Liam is the universally acknowledged hottie.” I lifted my chin in agreement. “Seems Liam’s crush has bad taste.” Not tasteless, just… niche.

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Ever since my baby brother was born, I started getting “lost.” My stepfather, Mark, would leave me at amusement parks, beaches, outside grocery stores, on busy streets… Six times, I managed to find my way back or get help. Each time I returned home, my mother’s cold indifference chilled me to the bone. The seventh time I got lost, I met a kind woman. “Sweetie, would you like to be my daughter?” I nodded. “Yes, please.” My stepfather and mother happily gave me away to her. They didn’t know that I was the family’s lucky charm. Without me, their luck was about to run out. 1 My name is Chloe. I am seven years old. This is the seventh time I’ve been lost. I stood at a busy intersection, cars whizzing by, waiting alone for my stepfather, Mark, to come back for me. Half an hour ago, Mark took me to the supermarket to buy soy sauce. When we got to the crosswalk, he said he forgot his wallet and had to go back. He told me to wait at the corner. He said he’d be back in fifteen minutes tops. But now, thirty minutes had passed, and he wasn’t back. The sky had turned dark, neon lights reflecting the city’s bustle. I looked up toward the direction of my apartment building, trying to guess which lighted window was ours. My mom, Brenda, should be giving my little brother, Tyler, a bath right now. Mom made bone broth soup today. Before I left, I went to the kitchen just to smell it. Mark said, “Chloe, come down with Daddy to buy soy sauce, and you can have soup when we get back.” The six previous times I got “lost” made me scared to go out. I shook my head. “It’s getting dark. I don’t want to go.” Brenda came out of the bathroom and said, “Chloe, go with Daddy, or no soup for you.” Mark was often mean to me. I didn’t want to go alone with him. But I wanted the soup, and I didn’t want Mom to yell at me. If I didn’t go, not only would I get no soup, but Mom would pull a long face and call me disobedient. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll go with you.” I held Mark’s hand and left. 2 Forty minutes passed. Mark still hadn’t come back. I was panicking, remembering the last six times. Mark always left me in strange places. A few times, I almost didn’t make it. The last time I found my way home, a neighbor kid, Leo, told me: “Chloe, your parents like your brother. They don’t like you!” I argued, face red, “My parents love me! They say I’m the most obedient!” Leo mocked, “Then why do you always get lost? Are they trying to get rid of you? You’re treated worse than a stray dog. If someone loses a dog, they look for it. Your parents don’t.” Leo’s words reminded me of something from when I was three. Mom was pregnant with Tyler. Mark said pregnant women shouldn’t be around cats, so he had to get rid of my favorite kitten, Tangerine. I remember Mark carrying Tangerine to this exact intersection and throwing him into the bushes by the road. That day, Mark held my hand as we crossed the street. I cried so hard, looking back at the abandoned kitten. Mark and Mom didn’t want the cat. Did they not want me now, either? I didn’t believe it. Mom said giving birth to me hurt a lot. Even if Mark didn’t like me, Mom wouldn’t abandon her baby. I had to walk back myself. This time, I would ask Mom directly: Do you not want me anymore? 3 To get home, I had to cross the intersection. Teacher taught us: Red light stop, green light go. But whenever Mark or Mom took me across, they said, “Don’t look at the lights, just go if there are no cars.” So now, I was confused. Should I go on red or green? I decided to listen to the teacher. When the walk signal lit up, I stepped onto the zebra crossing. This was my first time crossing alone. I was terrified. Halfway across, someone took my hand. “Sweetie, why are you crossing alone? It’s dangerous. Where are your parents?” The speaker was a young, beautiful woman. She was holding a small orange cat in one arm and holding my hand with the other. Her hand was warm. But my attention was on the cat. It looked just like Tangerine, only much bigger and wearing a cute little vest. “Tangerine. Tangerine,” I called out. “Meow~” The cat responded excitedly. I recognized him. This was my cat. After crossing the street, the woman let go of my hand and squatted down. “Sweetie, where are your parents?” I burst into tears and reached out to pet the cat. “Auntie, my parents don’t want me anymore. Just like they threw away Tangerine, they threw me away too. Waaaaah…” 4 The woman’s name was Sarah. She put the cat down on its leash. She hugged me and comforted, “Don’t cry. Take your time. Tell Auntie, what’s your name? Why are you here alone?” I sobbed, gasping for air. “I’m Chloe. My daddy took me to buy soy sauce. He went back to get something and said he’d be back in fifteen minutes. I waited a long time. This is the seventh time I got lost. He doesn’t want me.” Sarah’s face grew serious. She wiped my tears with a tissue. “What about your mom? When you got lost before, what did she say?” I sniffled. “Mom says I ran off by myself. But every time, Daddy leaves me there, and I wait obediently for them to find me…” Hearing this, Sarah held my hand. “Chloe, I live in the apartment complex just ahead. Why don’t you come home with me first? I’ll handle the rest.” “Okay.” I nodded. On the way, Sarah told me she found this cat three years ago in the bushes by the intersection. She saw Mark throw Tangerine into the bushes and walk away without looking back. I liked Sarah. Anyone who could take such good care of Tangerine had to be patient and loving.

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