Category: English

While I was scavenging for trash, I stumbled upon a street activity. “I’ll give you 100 dollars, and you spend it. I’ll pay,” said the influencer. Taking the 100-dollar bill, I smiled with a sense of relief. He didn’t know that I would use this money to kill three people right in front of tens of thousands of viewers in his live stream. 1 I had just put a plastic bottle I found in the trash into my woven bag when I heard someone call me from behind. “Ma’am, I’ll give you a hundred dollars. Spend it however you like.” A fashionably dressed man, hiding the disgust in his eyes, pointed his phone camera at me. Seeing my confused look, he took out a hundred-dollar bill and stuffed it into my hand. “I’m a streamer. Take the money, buy whatever you want!” I clutched the money tightly, squinting at his phone screen. “Finally live! I can’t go a day without watching Big Chris.” “Big Chris helping those in need with real action, thumbs up!” “This scavenger lady looks so pitiful, her clothes are dirty and torn. I really hope this hundred dollars can improve her life a bit.” Comments scrolled by, and the viewer count in the live stream kept climbing, instantly hitting over ten thousand. I put the money in my pocket and nodded to this streamer named Chris. This many witnesses were enough. 2 Chris followed behind me, talking eloquently to the camera. “Fam, I’ve been doing this hundred-dollar street charity challenge for a year now. It’s thanks to your support that I’ve come this far.” “Rest assured, the targets I choose are all people in difficult situations who need help.” “A hundred dollars is small, but it can truly help them!” “You can say I’m stingy, but I have a clear conscience!” Chris’s voice was very persuasive, and soon the screen was filled with gift effects. He glanced at me and continued: “This lady looks about sixty. It’s not easy being out scavenging at this age, relying on picking up trash to survive.” “Let’s see, what practical things can she buy with this hundred dollars?” After speaking, he quickened his pace to walk alongside me. “Ma’am, where is your family? How can they let you scavenge at such an old age?” I said lightly. “My family is all gone.” Chris sighed and shook his head. “Sigh, you really have a hard life.” “If you need any help, just tell me, Big Chris won’t hesitate!” I turned my head and stared at him quietly. He got creeped out by my stare and asked awkwardly: “Ma’am, what’s wrong?” I curved my lips and smiled gently. “No need, you are helping me right now.” 3 Chatting along the way, I walked to a fruit stand in the market. The fruit stand was under an old building, with no one in front of it. A woman about my age glanced at me and walked up reluctantly. “What do you want to buy?” I pointed to a bundle of sugarcane nearby. She looked me up and down and said grumpily: “Sugarcane is thirty dollars a stick. Do you have money?” I waved the bill in my hand at her, and she then slowly took a stick of sugarcane to peel. Comments floated by. “She’s had such a bitter life, getting money and wanting something sweet immediately.” “Wait, this shop isn’t right. Sugarcane is at most twenty dollars a stick.” “And she picked the oldest one for the lady! Streamer, remind her!” Chris looked at the screen from the side and whispered: “Fam, the principle of the stream is to give money but not interfere.” “So, I can’t intervene in this situation.” After the owner peeled it, I could clearly see the sugarcane was dry, with black spots inside. She walked to the sugarcane cutting machine not far away, quickly chopped the sugarcane into sections and bagged them, then came to ask me for money. I shook my head, smoothing my hair messed up by a gust of strong wind. Under her surprised gaze, I extended two more fingers. “Give me two more sticks.” A look of joy appeared on the owner’s face, and she pulled out two more sticks of poor-quality sugarcane to peel. The comments on the screen surged continuously. “Is this lady senile? Can’t she see she’s being given bad sugarcane?” “Buying so much sugarcane, can she finish it?” “Exactly, others save to buy daily necessities. She just spent it all at once.” Chris watched his phone quietly, the corners of his mouth rising constantly. Controversy brings heat. In this short while, his live stream gained several thousand more viewers. The owner was quick with her hands and feet, processing the other two sticks of sugarcane at the cutting machine in no time. I stood in front of her, looking at her coldly. As she packed the three bags ready to give me, another strong wind blew. Dust on the ground mixed with various plastic bags flew all over the sky. The owner subconsciously reached out to wipe her eyes. The next second, a dull crack sounded, and warm blood splattered on my face. She collapsed to the ground, her head smashed by a piece of wall brick falling from upstairs. 4 After the people around reacted, sharp screams erupted. Chris’s eyes widened, clutching his phone tightly, the camera fixed on the fruit stand owner’s body. Comments surged like a tide. “Holy crap, holy crap!” “Someone died? For real?” “Omg, witnessing a death live!” Someone at a nearby stall called for an ambulance and police. Soon, sirens wailed as they arrived. The doctor got out, took one look, and shook his head. The police examined the scene, took notes, dispersed the crowd, and arranged for the doctor to cover the deceased with a white cloth and carry her onto a stretcher. After everything ended, Chris’s face was full of ecstasy. The live stream was packed with comments, and the popularity was skyrocketing. He continued to the camera: “Fam, we just witnessed a death incident live.” “A living life vanished right before our eyes, it’s truly heartbreaking.” “You never know which comes first, tomorrow or an accident.” “But our agreement with the lady still stands, our stream won’t stop.” “Now, let’s continue!” Chris looked at me with a smile, the disgust in his eyes gone. After all, I was now his money tree. I continued leading him through the market, glancing at the screen, a few comments catching my eye. “Why do I feel like that fruit stand owner was killed by this lady?” “If she bought one less stick of sugarcane, the owner would have left the cutting machine sooner and wouldn’t have been hit by the falling brick.” Many people retorted. “That owner was a crook, bullying the lady for not knowing better, deliberately giving her bad sugarcane.” “Evil people get their karma, good riddance!” “Exactly, who knows how many more people she would have scammed if she lived.” I looked at these comments, sneering in my heart. These people hide behind the internet, standing on a self-righteous moral high ground, hurling abuse at anyone who disagrees. Their morals are actually not much higher than that fruit stand owner’s. Glancing at Chris, I stopped in front of a cheap men’s clothing store. I casually picked up a ten-dollar red tie, pulled it hard with both hands, and nodded with satisfaction. After paying, I handed the tie to Chris. “Take it, this is a gift from me.” Chris looked at this cheap red tie with a difficult expression. “Omg, the lady is so nice!” “I’ve watched streams for so long, this is the first time someone used this hundred dollars to buy something for the streamer!” “Boohoo, in the lady’s generation, a guy in a suit and tie is the most handsome and promising, that’s why she bought a tie for the streamer.” “Streamer, this is her heart, just accept it!” For a moment, countless gifts floated across the screen. Chris looked at the comments and accepted the tie with a smile. “Thank you, ma’am. Theoretically, I shouldn’t accept it.” “But I can’t bear to let down your kindness, so I’ll take it.” I smiled watching him gesture with the tie around his neck. The bright red tie looped around his neck, not too big, not too small, just right.

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My husband left work early to pick up our daughter, Sophie. I was at home, preparing a birthday surprise for her. I had just put the Boston lobsters and king crabs in the steamer when my husband texted: “Turn off the stove! Don’t cook them yet!” I knew immediately. Sophie’s classmate had tagged along again. It wasn’t that I was stingy or didn’t want to share. But this classmate lived right across the hall. For the past few months, she and her brother had been practically living at our house, eating and drinking for free. Meanwhile, her mother wouldn’t even offer my daughter a single popsicle. I ran to the kitchen and turned off the heat. Good food is for family. We’ll eat later, just us. 1 For Sophie’s twelfth birthday, we planned a quiet celebration at home. My husband, Mark, had exceeded his sales targets recently, and his boss gifted him two boxes of premium seafood. Boston lobsters and king crabs—worth over a thousand dollars easily. Mark and I have lived half our lives without tasting such luxury. Sophie had seen mukbang videos online and was drooling over them. Today, our family of three was finally going to feast. “She insisted on getting in the car. I couldn’t exactly kick her out once she was seated,” Mark texted while waiting at a red light. He drove today intending to take Sophie shopping, but ended up stuck with our neighbor’s kid. “It’s fine. Just don’t let her in the house later,” I replied. Our neighbor, Karen, had a daughter named Bella in Sophie’s class. We’ve known them for about a year. Bella frequently came over, usually right around dinnertime, shamelessly asking what we were eating. Then she’d give me puppy eyes and ask, “Auntie, can I have some?” In front of Sophie, I couldn’t refuse. After this happened repeatedly, I told Bella not to come during meals, but she ignored me and kept ringing the doorbell. When they did homework, Sophie would share her snacks. Bella always asked for extra to take home to her little brother, Ben. I told Sophie not to share everything. A case of 24 milk cartons used to last Sophie a month. Now, sharing with Bella, it was gone in a week. Milk, cookies, cake—individually cheap, but the cost adds up fast! Sophie was unhappy. “Mom, she’s my best friend. She shares with me too.” I softened, thinking I shouldn’t interfere too much with her friendships. Aside from being thick-skinned, Bella was generally polite. Until a month ago, I overheard Karen talking to her daughter in the hallway. “The neighbors bought pork knuckles today. Go over there and eat your fill.” “And bring some snacks back for your brother.” “Come back after 9:30 so we save on electricity.” I didn’t confront them immediately to keep the peace. But for the next two weeks, we didn’t cook a single meat dish for dinner. Bella would come, scan the table, see nothing she liked, and leave. I also confiscated the snacks in Sophie’s room. Gradually, Bella stopped coming over for homework. Without the food, she became cold to Sophie, ignoring her in the hallway. “See? She’s only friends with you for what she can get,” I told Sophie. “No food, no friendship.” Sophie, being stubborn, still greeted Bella and invited her over. “No food at your house, I’m not going,” Bella bluntly refused. Sophie even spent her own allowance to buy Bella snacks. A week ago, Sophie ran home crying, wanting a popsicle. “Mom, you were right.” I took her downstairs to buy one. Karen was seemingly waiting for me. Holding an apple, she looked apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I always buy popsicles in even numbers for Bella and Ben.” “If I gave one to Sophie, I’d have an odd number, and my kids would fight.” “You only have one child; you don’t know the struggles of raising two!” She squatted down and shoved the apple into Sophie’s hand. “Understand Auntie, okay?” Then she stood up, smiling. “When are you making pork knuckles again? Bella’s been craving them, and I’m a terrible cook.” “If you can’t cook, buy takeout,” I said coldly. I tossed the apple back to her. I thought that was the end of it. But Karen’s skin was thick enough to pretend nothing happened. Here she was, standing at my door, holding Ben and Bella. “It’s Sophie’s birthday! I’m not cooking tonight. They can eat here.” 2 She reached for the door handle. I blocked it from the inside, forcing a polite smile. “Sorry, we aren’t celebrating this year.” “Just a small cake. You should take the kids home.” Karen looked surprised. “Not celebrating? I saw a delivery guy bring two boxes to your place at noon.” “Heard it was seafood. Bella and Ben haven’t had seafood in ages. Perfect timing, right?” She pulled a red envelope from her bag and handed it to Sophie. “A little something from Auntie. Happy Birthday!” I tried to block it, leading to a shoving match. It was rush hour; neighbors were passing by, watching. Karen loudly announced she was giving Sophie a red envelope, earning praise from onlookers. Mark grabbed the envelope and stuffed it back into her bag. “Thanks, but we really want a private family dinner.” Taking advantage of the chaos, Bella and Ben slipped through the door. They ran to the kitchen. Clang! A pot lid hit the floor. “Mom! They really have king crabs and lobsters!” they cheered. I never imagined children could be so rude. Mark went in and dragged them out. They fought back, clinging to the sofa, screaming and kicking. Ben suddenly yelped. “Why are you hitting my son?!” Karen screeched. Mark, scolded publicly, tried to explain he hadn’t hit anyone. Karen stormed in, grabbed her kids, and turned to yell at me. “Is this over a popsicle? Are you that petty?” “No one in class plays with your daughter except mine! I let her come to the party out of kindness! It’s not like they’re freeloading!” “It’s just crab! If you don’t want to share, fine! Don’t make up disgusting excuses!” She twisted the narrative perfectly. Neighbors poked their heads out. “Sophie’s mom, that’s not right. The kids are close friends, why exclude them?” “How much can kids eat? It’s just seafood. Why be so stingy?” “And hitting a child? That’s too much.” Before I could explain, Karen dragged her kids home and slammed her door. Mark and I looked at each other. It took a while to explain the truth to the neighbors. Afterward, I steamed the seafood. We were about to eat when the class group chat exploded. 3 Karen’s message was at the top: [Can’t believe I have neighbors like this.] [It’s her kid’s birthday. I gave a red envelope, and they lied about not celebrating and kicked my kids out.] [Turns out they just wanted to hoard the king crab and lobster for themselves.] [My daughter is such a good friend to hers! And this is how they treat her?] A parent tagged Karen: [Wrong chat?] Silence for three minutes. Karen: [Oops, sorry everyone! Wrong chat. Can’t delete it now. Please ignore.] But people love drama. Someone tagged her: [Is this about Sophie’s mom? You guys are neighbors, right?] Karen didn’t reply, but the discussion started. [My son said it’s Sophie’s birthday. She promised to invite him but canceled last minute. He was so sad.] [Kids’ birthdays should be lively!] [I invite the whole class for my daughter. Doesn’t cost much.] [I saw Sophie’s dad post the crab on Facebook. Doesn’t look that big.] [Sophie’s mom is being petty here.] … I barely knew these parents, yet they were judging me. I tagged Karen: [Stop lying. We didn’t invite you. You forced the red envelope on us.] [What we eat is none of your business.] [Your daughter practically lived at my house for months, eating our food and taking snacks home. Did I ever complain?] Karen tagged me back: [Freeloading? That’s harsh. What did she eat?] [If we’re counting, your daughter ate a bag of chips, two packs of konjac snacks, three spicy strips, and a chicken leg at my son’s birthday.] [I bought her a lemonade, an ice cream cone, and even a dress when we went shopping.] [If you’re going to be this petty, our kids are done being friends.] A parent posted a laughing emoji: [Wow, Karen remembers every detail.] I laughed too. Those snacks were the only food at her son’s party, shared among three kids. The lemonade and ice cream were shared between Sophie and Bella. The dress was a buy-one-get-one-free item from a street stall. I explained all this in the chat. Karen accused me of slander. Seeing her panic, I uploaded a 5-minute and 37-second audio recording. 4 The recording started from the moment Karen opened her mouth at my door. Her unreasonable demands were clear as day. Then I uploaded screenshots of my online shopping history—six months of gifts for Bella. Pens, notebooks, dresses, shoes. Ranging from $10 to $50. I tagged Karen: [If I recall, the dress your daughter is wearing today is from my order history. Screenshot #8.] [Everyone, judge for yourselves.] Silence in the group. Karen blew up my phone with messages and calls demanding I delete the post. I blocked her. Peace at last. A few minutes later, several parents added me. I thought they wanted to comment on the drama, but they just asked for links to the clothes I bought. One parent messaged: “You’re too nice. Why do that for her kid? I wouldn’t do that even for my best friend’s child.” Soon after, the teacher disbanded the group and created a new one. “Parents, please keep private matters private.” The farce ended. I worried Sophie might be gossiped about at school, but she said kids were actually nicer to her. Bella was moved away from Sophie’s desk. They stopped talking. Karen and I avoided each other. When we did meet, she’d turn her nose up in the air. Neighbors learned the truth and whispered, “That woman has no shame.” A while later, I noticed my delivery boxes disappearing from my door. An elderly lady on the second floor collected cardboard, but she usually stuck to the dumpster area. I ignored it at first. One morning, I woke up early and heard rustling outside. Checking the peephole, I saw Karen taking all my boxes.

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1 I’ve been playing men like fiddles since I was a girl, a self-taught master of the innocent act. But even a woman as free-spirited as me had to face the music: an arranged marriage to save the family business. Just as I was resigning myself to my fate, my fiancé’s “best girl friend” came back from abroad. At her welcome-home party, this friend, Anna, lost a party game. Her forfeit? To straddle my fiancé, Adrian, and have him help her unhook her bra. When she saw me arrive, she grinned. “Hey, future sis-in-law! We’re just pals, practically grew up in the same pair of jeans. There’s nothing he hasn’t seen. You’re not gonna get bent out of shape over a little thing like this, are you?” Adrian’s childhood friends quickly chimed in to smooth things over. “Everyone in our circle knows the future Mrs. Thorne is the epitome of grace and class. She’s not the type to sweat the small stuff.” I’d already heard all about Anna and her “one of the guys” routine on my way over. A slow smile spread across my lips. This was going to be fun. She wanted to be “one of the guys”? I’d show her what a true master of the game looked like. … I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, my smile flawlessly sweet. “Why would I mind? It’s totally normal for good friends to roughhouse a bit. Honestly, I’m a little jealous of your bond.” Adrian seemed surprised by my easy-going response. He gently pushed Anna off his lap, offering a half-hearted scolding. “You’re a grown woman. Stop messing around.” Anna stuck her tongue out playfully, then immediately locked her arm around Adrian’s, refusing to let go. Just like that, I, the fiancée, was shoved to the periphery. A classic, premeditated move on Anna’s part. But I didn’t let a hint of displeasure show. I simply took a seat and quietly joined their game of King’s Cup. During the first round, I pretended to be a complete novice, flipping my card over for everyone to see. “I got the number four.” Anna let out a condescending laugh. “Adrian, where did you find this girl? She’s never even played a simple game like this? Another boring good-girl type.” My hand paused, and I let a flicker of hurt cross my face. I knew Adrian had a soft spot for the fragile, damsel-in-distress act. It made him feel like a savior. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I’ve never been good at these things.” Just as I’d predicted, his brow furrowed, his voice taking on a serious edge. “Don’t be ridiculous, Anna. Sera is just innocent. This is her first time in a bar.” I lowered my head, letting my long hair curtain my face as I gave my shoulders a slight, almost imperceptible tremble. In the dim, pulsing light of the club, they all probably thought I was fighting back tears. In reality, I was fighting back a laugh. Thank you, Mom and Dad, I thought, for insisting I play the part of a sweet, untouched angel for this engagement. Adrian gestured, and the person next to him quickly scooted over. He patted the now-empty space on the sofa beside him. “Sera, come sit here. I’ll teach you.” Ignoring the thunderous look on Anna’s face, I moved to Adrian’s side. But she wasn’t one to be outdone. She was already plotting her next move. Soon enough, Anna was chosen by the King again. This time, the dare was explicit: Sit on the lap of a man of your choice and feed him a drink, mouth to mouth. The whoops and hollers from the group nearly blew the roof off the private room. Anna’s eyes scanned the men before landing, with dramatic finality, on Adrian. She picked up a glass of whiskey, her smile wild and triumphant. “Adrian, my brother in arms. You gonna help a friend out or what?” The hand Adrian had on mine tightened for a second. I could feel his hesitation. The cheering only grew louder. His best friend, Ethan, started banging on the table. “Don’t go soft on us now, Thorne! Not in front of your girl!” “Everyone knows you and Anna are just friends! It’s just a kiss, what’s the big deal?” The words boxed him in. He glanced at me, searching for something. I met his gaze with eyes wide and crystal clear, offering a look that was not just permissive, but encouraging. “Go on,” I said softly. “It’s just a game. It’s okay.” A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, as if my indifference bothered him, but the roar of the crowd was too much. He leaned back into the couch in a gesture of surrender. Like a conquering hero, Anna sauntered over, whiskey in hand, and settled onto his lap. The room fell instantly silent, all eyes fixed on the charged, scandalous scene unfolding before us. Anna wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck, took a sip of the liquor, and leaned in, pressing her lips to his. A few seconds stretched into an eternity. A trickle of amber liquid escaped the corner of his mouth, a glistening testament to their intimacy. The room erupted in applause. Anna’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling. She turned to face the crowd, her voice loud and clear, aimed directly at me. “What are you all staring at? We’re just friends! Don’t make it dirty!” I watched the whole melodrama play out, then calmly set down my glass of juice. Now that everyone else had had their fun, it was my turn. I’d outgrown these childish games years ago. When I wanted to play, I could make them all dance like puppets on a string. For the rest of the night, every single round, the King card found its way into my hand. I propped my chin on my hand, my gaze sweeping lazily across the room. Anna watched me with a dismissive smirk, clearly convinced that a little wallflower like me couldn’t possibly cause any trouble. I smiled back, my eyes crinkling with mischief. “Number three has to kiss number four. For five seconds.” Number three was Ethan, the loudest of the cheerleaders. And number four? My “devoted” fiancé, Adrian. The room went dead silent again. Ethan and Adrian stared, mouths agape, while the color drained from Anna’s face. Oblivious to the sudden tension, I chirped happily, “Go on! You’re all best friends, what’s a little kiss? Anna just gave a perfect demonstration! Don’t be so stingy with your brotherly love. Oh, or do you only kiss your girl friends, and not your guy friends?” I put extra emphasis on the words friends and demonstration. After all the grandstanding about their “unbreakable bond,” backing down now would be a direct insult to their sacred friendship. Trapped by the rules and the suffocatingly awkward atmosphere, Ethan gritted his teeth and leaned in to give Adrian a long, passionate kiss. I clapped my hands, laughing with delight. “This is so much fun!” She liked watching him kiss his friends? Fine. He could kiss them all. Over the next three rounds, I didn’t let up, drawing the King card each time. By the end of it, every single one of Adrian’s “brothers” at the table had shared a kiss with him. After Ethan broke the ice, none of the others could refuse without looking like a poor sport. Adrian, for his part, remained frozen in his seat, his face as dark as a thundercloud, radiating a chilling aura. “Are you having fun?” he bit out, his voice dangerously low. I tilted my head up, my expression one of pure, childish glee. “So much fun! Darling, am I the luckiest girl or what? And your ‘best girl friend’ is so interesting! I can’t wait to hang out with her again.” Adrian’s expression was a twisted knot of emotions. He gave up trying to speak, snatched his jacket from the couch, and stormed out of the room. Anna scrambled after him. “Adrian, wait for me!” I called out sweetly to their retreating backs, “Are we done playing? But I was just getting the hang of it!” Anna shot me a look of pure venom over her shoulder. “You’re sick.” 2 Adrian didn’t contact me for a few days after that night. I was more than happy for the peace and quiet. I went shopping, took a flower-arranging class, and enjoyed my freedom. Anna’s social media, however, was anything but quiet. A couple of days ago, she was at a ranch with Adrian, riding horses. The caption read: “There’s no point in being his trophy wife. Be his ally. The one who’s always by his side.” A few days later, they were on jet skis, a nine-photo spread of their cozy moments. In the pictures, they wore matching t-shirts. Hers read “The First Woman,” with a line of smaller text beneath it: “Always in your heart.” My best friend shoved her phone in my face, zooming in on the text. “This girl is beyond shameless,” she fumed. “She’s not just annoying, she’s actively trying to steal your man! Sera, how can you be so calm?” I took a leisurely sip of my afternoon tea. “Why rush? There are plenty of men in the world. If she wants him that badly, she can have him.” “But what about your family?” she pressed, her voice laced with worry. “I thought the whole point of this engagement was to fix your company’s cash flow problem.” I shrugged. “The ink on the partnership agreement dried two weeks ago. I never planned on actually marrying Adrian anyway. The breakup was always part of the plan. I just needed him to be the one at fault.” Honestly, if Anna hadn’t shown up, I would have had to work a lot harder to make that happen. According to Anna’s latest blog post, tonight she and Adrian were going to fulfill some important “ten-year pact.” I didn’t know the details, but it sparked an idea. I pulled out my phone and called my old friend Leo, inviting him to go camping on Blackwood Mountain to watch the stars. As soon as we arrived, I posted a series of photos to my Instagram story. I carefully mimicked the composition of Anna’s pictures with Adrian, tagged our location, and added a cryptic caption: “You know the secrets of the universe, and the secrets of my heart.” An hour later, long before any shooting stars appeared, I heard the roar of an engine. Adrian stepped out of his car, the harsh glare of his headlights casting his face in shadow. “You don’t send a single text for days, and I find you camping on a mountain with another guy? Seraphina, have you forgotten you’re my fiancée?!” His voice was loud, and I feigned a terrified flinch, tears instantly welling in my eyes. “Darling,” I cried, my voice trembling. “You walked out on me the other night… I thought you were angry, that you didn’t want me anymore. I was too scared to call you.” Adrian froze, his anger deflating as he looked at me. His gaze then shifted to Leo. “And who is this?” Leo stepped forward, and I linked my arm through his, explaining patiently to Adrian. “This is Leo, my childhood friend. We practically grew up in the same pair of jeans—just like you and Anna.” My twisted logic left Adrian speechless, his face a mask of fury. He grabbed my hand and started dragging me back down the mountain. On the way, his phone began ringing incessantly, buzzing like an angry hornet. I was trying to nap, but the noise was driving me crazy. “Sweetheart, who is that? It must be important, you should answer it.” Before he could protest, I reached over and hit the answer button on the car’s display. Anna’s frantic, screeching voice filled the cabin via Bluetooth. “Adrian Thorne! You get a girlfriend and suddenly you forget about me? This is our ten-year pact! You promised me! I don’t care what you’re doing, if you don’t come right now, I swear I’ll jump off the damn roof!” 3 Adrian’s face grew even darker. He stabbed at the screen, ending the call abruptly. I spoke softly, my voice laced with gentle confusion. “Anna sounds really upset. What’s a ten-year pact? It sounds important. Darling, do you have somewhere you need to be? It’s okay, really. I can just get a cab home.” “Shut up,” he snapped, his voice cold and frayed with irritation. “It’s nothing important. She’s just being dramatic. I’ll have Ethan go pick her up.” I said nothing more. The car finally pulled up in front of my apartment building. Adrian leaned back in the driver’s seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose before turning to me. His voice was softer now. “Sera, Anna and I have known each other forever. She’s always been like one of the guys, a bit reckless and tactless sometimes. But we are honestly just friends. Don’t overthink it. And please, don’t do things like this just to make me jealous.” I turned to meet his gaze, a small smile playing on my lips. “I’m not overthinking anything. And I’m not jealous. I trust you. And you trust me, right? Leo and I… we’re just ‘sisters’.” His jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone rang again. It was Ethan. “Dude, you need to get over here. Anna’s losing it. You’re the only one who can handle her.” Adrian hesitated. I offered him a patient, understanding smile as I unbuckled my seatbelt and pushed the door open. “Go on,” I said. “She really needs you.” I knew he was still watching. As I reached the entrance of my building, I let my body go limp, collapsing to the pavement like a fallen leaf. The car door slammed. In seconds, Adrian was scooping me up and rushing me to the hospital. A night of admissions, tests, and worried bedside vigils followed. I complained of phantom pains, of being scared, of feeling dizzy. I kept him occupied until the sun came up, ensuring he never made it to Anna’s ten-year pact. The next morning, with a heart full of three parts guilt and four parts pitiable sweetness, I used Adrian’s phone to call Anna. “Anna,” I whispered weakly into the receiver. “It’s all my fault. I don’t know what happened, I just fainted. I feel so terrible for ruining your special night. Can you ever forgive me?” Anna was seething, but with Adrian right there, all she could do was slam the phone down. A moment later, her blog exploded. “Some ‘fiancées’ have all the tricks. Playing the frail victim one minute, then dragging guys up mountains to ‘see the stars’ the next. And making sure to post the location so everyone knows. Does she think we’re all blind?” “A ten-year pact? Ha. Apparently, it can’t compete with one night of ‘stargazing confessions.’ That’s men for you. The new girl comes along and suddenly your oldest ‘friend,’ the one who’s been there forever, means nothing.” “Whatever. Friends are for life, girls are just temporary. You can live without a limb, but you can always get a new shirt. I get it.” The post was accompanied by a photo of her sitting alone in the grandstands of a racetrack, a single, desolate figure next to two cans of beer, one of which was empty. I couldn’t help but laugh as I screenshotted everything. After being thwarted twice in a row, Anna was clearly on the verge of a complete breakdown. The day after tomorrow was our engagement party. I hoped she had a surprise for me. I was dying to see it. 4 On the day of the party, Anna was a vision in a stunning red dress, gliding through the guests with a glass of champagne, laughing and chatting with Adrian’s circle of friends. Eventually, she made her way over to me, holding two glasses of red wine, her smile blinding. “Sera, I know I’ve been a bit childish lately. This is for you, an apology. To you and Adrian. May you have a long and happy life together.” She was standing so close I could see the feverish excitement dancing in her eyes. When the wicked offer gifts, they are plotting something foul. I waved a hand dismissively, my expression apologetic. “Anna, I appreciate the thought, but I’ll have to pass on the wine. I’m not feeling very well today.” Her expression instantly hardened. She leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Are you done playing the innocent little flower? Because I’m about to rip those petals right off.” I looked up at her, my face a mask of confused panic. “I don’t understand what you mean.” But Anna just smiled, turned, and walked away, leaving me with her cryptic threat hanging in the air. The ceremony was halfway through. Adrian and I were standing hand-in-hand, about to exchange rings. That’s when Anna made her move. “Wait!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the elegant music. “On this joyous occasion, I have a special gift for the bride-to-be!” A confused murmur rippled through the crowd. Anna clapped her hands twice, and the grand doors to the ballroom swung open. Four or five handsome men walked in. The moment I saw their faces, I froze. Anna seized on my flicker of stunned silence, her smile growing wider and more vicious. Adrian frowned, turning to me. “Do you know them?” Before I could answer, Anna spoke for me. “Of course she knows them! These are just a few of the many men she’s had in her life since she was a teenager.” “She jumps from one to the next, tossing them aside when she gets bored. She’s a seasoned player, pretending to be some innocent little lamb.” “Adrian, we’ve been friends for over twenty years! I couldn’t stand by and watch you be deceived like this!” The ballroom erupted in gasps and whispers. I felt Adrian’s arm go rigid beside me. When he looked at me, his eyes were filled with shock and suspicion. Across the room, my parents’ faces were pale. Adrian’s family looked grim. I lifted my chin, my eyes quickly filling with tears that clung to my lashes, refusing to fall. My lip trembled. “How could you say such things? How could you try to ruin my engagement day like this? What do you possibly have to gain?” Seeing my desperate denial, Anna looked as though she’d just cornered her prey. She lifted her chin higher. “Ruin you? Seraphina, you really won’t confess until you’re staring at your own coffin! I have videos! Videos you filmed yourself during your little escapades! Should I play them right now? Let everyone here see just what a tramp you are in another man’s arms!” With that, Anna marched onto the stage and inserted a USB drive into the laptop connected to the large projector screens. I stumbled forward, grabbing her hand as it reached for the mouse. “Anna, don’t.” Her voice was shrill with excitement. “You’re scared now, aren’t you? Too late! I’m going to play it! I want Adrian, I want everyone, to see the real Seraphina Vance! You’re a liar!” The entire room held its breath, all eyes glued to the giant screen, waiting for the promised spectacle of my downfall.

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I only found out when I went to collect my husband’s retirement fund. His salary wasn’t the seven hundred dollars a month he’d claimed. It was nearly three thousand. He gave me seven hundred. The other two thousand, he’d been sending, like clockwork, on the first of every month, to a woman with the last name Miller. I laid the bank statements out on the table in front of him. “All these years, you lied to me. You said you only made seven hundred a month. Even the year our son had pneumonia, you said you couldn’t spare a single dime.” “In the end, it was my mother who sold the wild ginseng she needed for her own heart condition. She traded her life for our son’s.” I stared into his eyes. “This Ms. Miller, the one who’s been getting two thousand dollars from you every month, who is she?” His lips trembled. He was about to speak when our son, Ryan, burst out of his room and snatched the papers from the table. “Mom, Mia’s mom has had it tough all these years, raising a kid on her own. Don’t go causing trouble for her.” Mia’s mom. Lily Miller. In that single moment, I understood. For thirty years of marriage, my husband had been supporting his first love. And my son, it seemed, had found himself a new mother. 1 Faced with my silence, my husband, Mark, moved his lips as if to say something. Our son, Ryan, jumped in first. “Mom, I didn’t mean it like that, I just…” But I knew. The words that tumble out in a moment of panic are always the truth. For thirty years, Mark had placed seven hundred dollars in my hand on the first of every month, without fail. In the beginning, seven hundred dollars was a decent amount. We lived comfortably. But then our son grew up. Our parents grew old. The price of everything went up, except for the money he gave me. Life became a struggle. I wanted him to have a hot meal waiting when he came home late from “overtime.” I wanted our growing son to have proper nutrition. I wanted to set aside a little something for our aging parents. So, on top of my job and running the household, I took on part-time work. Was I tired? Of course, I was. But when I looked at my happy, thriving family, I told myself it was all worth it. Now, he was telling me his salary was almost three thousand a month, and for thirty years, three-quarters of it had gone to his first love. My decades of hardship suddenly felt like a cruel joke. Seeing me silent, Mark’s expression hardened. “Laura, I’ve explained everything. What more do you want?” “Besides, we’ve managed just fine all these years. Why do you have to dig up the past?” The confusion on his face was genuine, as if I were the one being unreasonable. A bitter laugh rose in my throat. Before we were married, he had looked me in the eyes just like this and promised me the world. Back then, when I worked late, he’d wait for me at the end of the street, a warm cup of coffee in his hands, worried I’d be hungry. Now, when I’m sick in bed, he just sends a text: “Drink plenty of water.” I’d felt the change, of course, but I’d always found ways to explain it away. But the bank statements didn’t lie. Each transaction was a testament to the truth. My life, for the past thirty years, had been a lie. And I didn’t want it anymore. “Mark,” I said, my voice steady. “Let’s get a divorce.” He stared at me, stunned. He clearly hadn’t expected this. But it was our son who reacted first, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “Mom! What are you doing? Dad and Mia’s mom… I mean, Ms. Miller… there’s nothing going on between them!” “You’re too old to be throwing a fit over something so small. Aren’t you embarrassed?” I looked at my son’s indignant, accusing face and felt a chill I’d never known before. My husband’s betrayal was one thing. This was so much worse. “That’s enough, Ryan. Say less.” Mark stopped him, his face shifting into a placating expression. He took out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. My own phone buzzed. “You’ve worked hard all these years, Laura. Take this thousand dollars.” His voice softened. “Go buy that dress you were looking at the other day. You deserve to treat yourself.” See? He remembered. He always remembered the little things, my likes and dislikes. But it was always just talk. This was the first time his supposed affection came with actual money. Mark seemed to think that a thousand dollars and a few soft words were enough to smooth everything over. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and, just as he had countless nights before, headed for the balcony. Ryan shot me a glare and retreated to his room. I was left alone in the large, empty living room. The lights were warm, the furniture familiar and comforting. But in that moment, it all felt suffocating. I went to our bedroom and called my best friend. She’s been a lawyer her whole life. She would know what to do. “I’m getting a divorce.” “Yes, he’s been cheating on me. For the last thirty years.” 2 Just as I hung up with my friend, Mark came back into the bedroom from the balcony. He went through his usual nightly routine, washing up before slipping into bed. In the soft lamplight, I noticed for the first time how young he looked for a man his age. His body was still trim, his hair dark and thick, the lines on his face shallow. Time had been kind to him. And me? My gray hairs were starting to outnumber the dark ones. My face was a roadmap of wrinkles, and my body had lost its shape from years of hard labor. Perhaps it wasn’t time that had been kind to him. It was me. It was only then that I remembered: I had seen Lily Miller before. She was on a local news program, featured as a “model of the modern independent woman.” On the screen, she was dressed in a chic, expensive-looking suit, her makeup flawless, her demeanor confident and articulate. I had pointed at the TV, a mix of admiration and wistfulness in my voice. “Look at her,” I’d said to Mark. “She’s so impressive. I wish I could be a successful, independent woman like that.” What was his reaction then? He had stared at the screen for a long moment before his eyes refocused on me. His voice was casual. “Those types always have a family fortune or a rich benefactor. We can’t compare ourselves to people like that. You take care of our home, and in my eyes, that’s the best thing in the world.” I’d been a little flustered by his sudden sweet talk, and my flicker of envy had been quickly extinguished. Looking back, I realized the expression on his face as he stared at the screen wasn’t just admiration. It was pride. Pride that he had a hand in creating the radiant woman on the television. And me? On my seven hundred dollars a month, buried under an endless mountain of chores and part-time jobs, I had become a frumpy, rundown housewife who knew nothing beyond the price of groceries. “What are you staring at?” Mark noticed my gaze and frowned. I knew this was a precursor to his anger. Normally, I would have immediately looked away or changed the subject to avoid a fight. But I wasn’t going to do that anymore. I didn’t answer, just looked back down at my phone. My friend had sent over some preliminary information about the division of assets in a divorce. The phone was so old the screen was blurry. My silence clearly infuriated him. He shot up in bed, snatched the phone from my hands, and threw it to the foot of the bed. “Laura! Are you ever going to let this go?” “We’ve been together for thirty years! I never thought you were the kind of woman who only cares about money! You’d throw away our family for a little bit of cash?” Even now, he was convinced that my anger was only about the money. I almost wished I was the materialistic woman he accused me of being. Maybe then, the past thirty years wouldn’t have been so hard. I looked him straight in the eye and said, enunciating every word, “Mark, we’re getting a divorce. I’m serious.” Hearing me bring it up again, he exploded. “A divorce? Where did you learn this nonsense? Are you trying to threaten me?” “Let me tell you, it won’t work! If we really get a divorce, what will people think of me? How will I face my colleagues, our friends, our family?” “Ryan is about to get married! Do you, his mother, really want to embarrass him in front of his future in-laws?” He was panicking, but every word was about his own pride, his own image, our son’s image. My feelings didn’t even register. A wave of grief and fury washed over me. I sat up straight, my voice rising to match his. “Mark, do you have any idea what I’ve done for this family over the past thirty years?” “When your father needed that hundred-thousand-dollar bypass surgery, I used every penny of the dowry my parents gave me, and I stayed up all night doing the books for three different companies to make up the rest.” “The year Ryan got into that expensive private high school, the tuition was fifty thousand dollars. I cashed out my own company pension to pay for it. I didn’t even leave myself a safety net.” “All these years, every major expense, every financial crisis… who was the one who worked herself to the bone to fill the gaps?” The bedroom door creaked open. The shouting must have drawn Ryan out. He stood in the doorway, his face a mask of undisguised irritation and disapproval. “Mom! Have you not made enough of a scene?” “So you’ve contributed to the family. Does that give you the right to blackmail Dad now?” “No wonder you can’t compare to Aunt Lily in any way. You deserve to be this miserable!” His words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I looked at his face, so much like a younger version of Mark’s. This was the son I had carried for ten months. The grandson my mother had given her life for. When Ryan was seven, he came down with a severe case of pneumonia. I couldn’t get ahold of Mark. I borrowed from every friend and relative I had, but I was still two hundred dollars short for the surgery. Without telling me, my mother sold the precious wild ginseng she relied on to manage her heart condition. The baby came home from the hospital, healthy and well. But my mother’s condition worsened, and she passed away before I could even say goodbye. And now, it was clear that neither her sacrifice nor my own had been worth anything at all. 3 In the past, after every argument, they were the ones who would storm out. This time, I was the one who left. Lying on the hotel bed, I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. In my dreams, I was back in that terrible time. My son’s face, flushed with fever. The nurses, hounding me for payment. My husband, unreachable. My mother, wasting away in her sickbed. In the end, my son got better, and my mother was gone. My husband returned from his “business trip,” looking tired and full of remorse. He said he’d taken an emergency project out of town to earn extra money for the surgery, and the signal had been bad. I believed him. I even felt sorry for him. I thought we were a pair of star-crossed lovers, supporting each other through life’s cruel storms. I never imagined that my honest, hardworking husband, with his three-thousand-dollar monthly salary, would refuse to spend a penny on his dying son, but would happily give two-thirds of his income to enrich another woman’s life. For thirty years, everyone else had moved on. Only I remained trapped in that moment of unbearable loss. The nightmare was broken by the ringing of my phone. The caller ID read “Mother-in-law.” I stared at the screen for a few seconds before answering. “Laura, dear, I know you’re hurting. What Mark did… he was wrong.” “But you two have been through so much together. Thirty years of marriage, a grown son.” “At our age, sometimes it’s better to just… turn a blind eye. Forgive and forget. It’s better for everyone. You can keep the family together, can’t you?” I clutched the phone, my fingertips cold. “Mom, you’ve known about Lily Miller all this time, haven’t you?” The line went silent. After a few seconds, I couldn’t help but laugh. This was the woman who, from the day I married into the family, had held my hand and said, “From now on, you’re my own daughter.” The woman who, every time Mark and I fought, would scold him first and always take my side. She, too, was a silent accomplice in this long, elaborate deception. The phone screen suddenly went dark. It was an old phone. The battery was shot. Sleep was now impossible. I plugged the phone in and opened my banking app. Inside was the few thousand dollars I had managed to scrape together over the years, plus the thousand Mark had “graciously” given me yesterday. The next morning, I went to the mall and bought a new phone. I’d thought about getting one before, but I was intimidated by the new technology. I’d asked my son for help. He had rolled his eyes. “Mom, you’re old. As long as your phone can make calls and send texts, that’s all you need. Anything more is a waste of money. You wouldn’t know how to use it anyway.” Now, the text was crisp and clear. The videos didn’t lag. It only cost four hundred dollars. All the hardships I had endured, I realized, were truly not worth it.

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My roommate is sensitive, petty, and extremely possessive. When I saved a seat for another classmate, she cried, complaining about why I would save a seat for someone else and not her. In the cafeteria, the lunch lady gave me one more piece of meat than her. She reported the lady for negligence, causing the woman to lose her job. Even when my boyfriend wanted to come home with me for the holidays, she kept making things difficult. She claimed she had never been to a nice house and insisted on pitifully tagging along. Once we got there, she treated my parents like servants, making them wait on her hand and foot. She even asked my boyfriend to warm her bed. It all ended on my birthday. I treated my roommates to a hotpot dinner. Because I didn’t serve her food personally, she flipped the boiling pot. She disfigured my face. During the ensuing struggle, I fell. I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. I was back on the first day of freshman year, the day she walked into our dorm. 01 While we were eating, my roommate, Tina, suddenly threw her chopsticks on the floor. She buried her head in her hands and started wailing. “What is wrong with you now?” My boyfriend, Ken, couldn’t help but raise his voice. Tina pouted, her eyes red rimmed. She looked at me with pure grievance. “Lynn, why did you skip me when you were serving the food just now? I waited until the meal was almost over, and I didn’t get a single piece of tripe. Do you all look down on me that much?!” The more she spoke, the more victimized she acted. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. My grandparents couldn’t bear to see the younger generation cry. They quickly flagged the waiter. “Two more plates of tripe, please.” “Child, don’t cry,” my grandma soothed. “It was our oversight.” My parents were baffled. But having been tormented by her for the first three days of the holiday, they were somewhat used to it. They sighed, having no patience left to coax her. This scene happened at my birthday party. My family was happily eating hotpot and singing songs. My boyfriend had just cut the cake for me. The roommate who had insisted on following me home for the holiday ruined everything. She flipped the table. The spicy, boiling beef tallow splashed directly onto my face. I jumped up, screaming in pain. Through the agony, I realized everyone else was fine. The pot had been pushed specifically in my direction. I couldn’t speak. I just covered my face while my parents and grandparents frantically called for an ambulance. Ken couldn’t take it anymore. “Tina, are you crazy?! We treated you like family! It’s one thing to be a nuisance every day, but now you want to kill her?” Tina showed no remorse. She sat opposite us, arms crossed, staring coldly. “It’s not like I haven’t been burned by oil before. Relax, it won’t kill her!” She sneered. “Doesn’t she have a happy family and a perfect life? Why does she get to look down on me? Why didn’t she serve me food?” I finally snapped. The pain and the frustration exploded. “Get out! Get out of my house right now! From now on, we are strangers. I’m applying to change dorms the second school starts!” 02 Hearing that I no longer pitied her background, no longer sympathized with her poverty, and would no longer tolerate her… Tina’s expression turned evil. She rushed at me. Slap. She hit me hard across the face. My parents and Ken were downstairs dealing with the bill or waiting for the ambulance. No one was close enough to help. My grandparents tried to intervene, waving their frail hands to stop her. Tina screamed recklessly, “You said you would be good to me! You broke your word! You deserve this retribution!” I was stunned by the slap. My face, already blistered from the scald, throbbed with unbearable pain. My grandparents were over eighty years old. “Young lady, why are you hitting people?” they cried out, trying to pull her away. But how could two elderly people withstand the shove of a young woman used to farm work? One was pushed to the ground. The other clutched his heart, breathing rapidly. “Medicine… medicine…” I trembled with rage, tears mixing with the oil on my face. “Tina! You eat my food, wear my clothes, use my things, and now you hurt my family? You have no conscience! You deserve every beating your stepfather ever gave you!” Hearing me mention her abusive stepfather, her face twisted. She lost all reason. She reached out, her hands closing around my neck. I wasn’t as strong as her. She forced me back toward the stairwell. We struggled. I lost my footing. I fell down the stairs and died on the spot. … When I opened my eyes, Tina was dragging a woven plastic bag through the dorm door. She looked shy, cautious. I was making my bed on the lower bunk. She had dark skin and a small frame, but she carried a massive package. She whispered, “Classmate, I’m afraid of heights. Can I have the lower bunk?” Seeing I didn’t react immediately, she added, “If not, that’s fine. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry.” Her voice faded like a dying mosquito. At that moment, I knew. I was reborn. I was back on the first day of freshman year. 03 In my previous life, I was too kind. I treated her too well. That’s why she took advantage, thinking she was entitled to everything I had. In this life? Absolutely not. I didn’t even turn my head. “Sorry, I’m afraid of heights too. Ask someone else.” She persisted, ramping up the pity act. “Classmate, I’m from a village. I’ve never lived in a tall building or taken an elevator. I get scared as soon as I’m high up. Please, I’m begging you.” Before I could speak, Gloria spoke up. Gloria had short hair, a sharp tongue, and slept on the opposite top bunk. She jumped down and landed lightly on the floor. “If you’re so precious, why live in a dorm? Go rent an apartment. You can have a living room and kitchen all to yourself.” Gloria was straightforward. In my past life, her lack of empathy almost caused Tina to jump out the window in a fit of depression. I was the one who pulled Tina back. I was the one who comforted her. Because of Tina, the other roommates isolated us. I stood by her. And she repaid me with murder. In this life, I decided to cling to Gloria. She would be my voice of reason. Before I could say anything, sobbing filled the room. Tina squatted on the floor, burying her face in her knees. She looked miserable. Just then, our fourth roommate, Vanessa, walked in. Vanessa was beautiful, wealthy, and had perfect grades. She usually kept to herself. In my last life, she didn’t fall out with Tina until Tina stole her mother’s vintage haute couture gown, ruined it, and tried to sell it online. That’s when Vanessa moved out. I looked at Vanessa. She was the rich queen bee I needed to help deal with Tina. I smiled at her. “Hey, why don’t you take this lower bunk? The door is drafty, and you look like you get cold easily.” Vanessa looked at me suspiciously, then at the crying girl on the floor. She was smart. She wouldn’t take sides until she knew the score. And honestly, she disdained getting involved in our drama. 04 Hearing that I would rather give the bunk to the princess-like Vanessa than to a poor villager like her, Tina snapped. She ran out of the room crying, acting as if she’d been bullied. When she returned, she brought our Resident Advisor (RA). The RA frowned at us. “How can you discriminate against a classmate? You’re college students. Tina is from a rural area, yes, but she hasn’t done anything to you. I expect you to get along.” Gloria crossed her arms. “Who bullied her? You need evidence for accusations.” “Is whatever she says the truth? If she says we killed someone, do we go to jail tomorrow?” The RA wasn’t expecting freshmen to be this tough. She softened her tone. “Look, you’re all roommates now. It’s fate. Take a step back and compromise.” Tina thought she had won. She nodded eagerly at the RA. “Yes, Senior Sister is right!” She turned her teary eyes to Vanessa. “Classmate, please. Can I have that bunk? I’m terrified of heights.” It was a classic moral kidnapping. Vanessa looked at Tina, then at the RA staring expectantly. Vanessa came from a wealthy family; she feared no authority. She reached into her designer bag, pulled out a stack of cash—two thousand yuan—and threw it at Tina’s feet. “Go see a doctor.” Tina’s face twisted in rage. “What do you mean?!” Gloria chimed in perfectly. “She means if you’re sick, go to the hospital. Don’t try your guilt trips on us. We’re not buying it.” I almost applauded. I decided right then: Gloria is my best friend in this life.

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I am the vicious villainess who abandoned the superstar actor when he was down. Three years after I fled the country, he’s conquered the entertainment industry. Meanwhile, I’m a washed-up nobody. Just as I was debating whether to return, text started scrolling before my eyes: [Help! Go back now, sis! The male lead misses you so much his pillow is soaked every night.] [Not just the pillow! The sheets too! You know what I mean, sis, and it’s not tears.] [The male lead is fully recovered, physically and… otherwise. Don’t worry, sis, your future happiness is secured.] [Don’t you remember how you two were inseparable in that rental apartment?] [Don’t worry. Just crook your finger, and he’ll come running like a puppy.] 1 The night Julian Thorne announced his relationship, our three names exploded on the trending search. I never thought I’d share a headline with Julian again. After all, since I heartlessly dumped him three years ago, we’d cut all ties. I stared at the trending topics in a daze. I never imagined our “reunion” would be this awkward. Especially since it was his relationship announcement. The partner was the current top starlet, Ivy Miller. And I, sandwiched between them, looked like a joke. Julian is red-hot right now. It’s normal for his dating history to be dug up. So now, I’m the target of everyone’s scorn. At Julian’s lowest point, I, his girlfriend, abandoned him without hesitation. Fans from both sides united to blast me to the number one trending spot. This is the most searched I’ve ever been in my career. Of course, it’s all hate. And some people just enjoying the drama. [Yo yo yo, didn’t this girl hook up with a sugar daddy and run abroad to live the high life? Why so quiet now?] [Scarlett Reed thought dumping Julian would launch her international career? Didn’t expect to not even touch Hollywood’s door after all this time.] [So washed up she’s clinging to the movie king? Hilarious, does she think she’s the ‘white moonlight’?] [Ignore her, sisters. This trending topic was obviously bought by a scheming woman; just a has-been trying to get traffic.] [Exactly!! Today is Julian and Ivy’s announcement day, and here she is dancing around. Speechless.] [Help, can the ex let my brother go? If it wasn’t for being with you back then, would he have been so miserable?!] 2 Scrolling through the screen full of hate posts, I was speechless too. They call me washed up, so where would I get the money to buy trending topics? But the comments did get one thing right. The one flourishing after leaving Julian wasn’t me. Indeed. Once I left, Julian’s tragic first half of life was rewritten. Found by his wealthy biological parents, acknowledged by his ancestors, then spotted by a big director and shooting to fame. Without me, he finally lived the life a male lead should. And met the heroine who would save him. And I, who abandoned him, am now too poor to afford food. Karma’s a wheel, huh? I wanted to ignore the endless hate trends. But the heat wouldn’t die down. One topic even surpassed Ivy’s official announcement post in likes. Some damn marketing account applied the famous “library thirty seconds” trope to Julian and me. [Julian, in the thirty seconds of announcing your relationship with Ivy, were you hoping for a lifetime with her, or reminiscing about the whispers with Scarlett in that rental apartment?] I sucked in a cold breath. They really want me dead. 3 I was speechless. And my agent was urging me to return. “Scarlett, if you don’t come back, you’ll be sleeping on the streets with the homeless.” But returning now would look like blatant clout chasing. I’d only get scolded worse. My agent dismissed it. “So what? Is it worse than starving?” As I hesitated, a stream of text suddenly floated before my eyes: [Help, what are you thinking, sis? Rush back home now!] [So what if he announced? The puppy still loves you.] [The deeper the hurt, the deeper the love.] [Ahhhh, go back quickly, sis! I’ve had enough of the naive, sweet heroine.] [I love a villainess with brains and ambition who slays the whole book. Men are just stepping stones for your success.] I was confused. I’m the villainess? A villainess who abandoned the male lead, was vain and unscrupulous, and ended up losing everything? But why are the comments praising me? Shouldn’t they be spitting on me? Scolding and cursing me? Why is everyone whitewashing me? And it’s impossible for Julian to be like the comments say. He hates me too much. How could he love me? With his current status in the industry, crushing me would be effortless. But I can’t survive abroad anymore. Calculating it all, it’s death either way. I decided not to struggle and just bought a ticket home. 4 This is the era where traffic is king. Whether it’s hate or love, as long as there’s heat and topics, collaborations will come knocking. However, I didn’t expect the first drama I’d get after returning would have Ivy Miller as the female lead. Julian’s girlfriend. I understood the production team approached me because of the heat surrounding this. Otherwise, a washed-up actress ignored for three years like me wouldn’t even land a web series. Only, taking this means getting roasted to crisp. Sure enough, on the day of the announcement, I was sprayed to the top trend again. [Never seen such a shameless woman. Want to be famous that badly? What about your parents?!] [Probably doesn’t have any.] [Lol, vicious second female lead. She’s just playing herself.] [Poor Ivy baby, leeched off-screen, bullied on-screen.] [Can’t the production find any other actresses?] [Where’s Julian? Just watching this? Tell Scarlett to get out of the industry.] [Passerby here, kinda looking forward to Julian’s reaction when he visits the set.] [Fans, step up, take more set photos and we’ll know.] I swiped through the screen casually; all trash talk spraying me. Unbearable to look at. Until those words caught my eye: [What do you guys think Julian is thinking right now?] I froze. Took a deep breath and lay on the bed, staring into space. What would he be thinking? [Silly sister, thinking of you, of course.] I saw the comments again. [Sis, with your methods, do you even need to wonder?] [Stand in front of him and you’ll know. Stop thinking useless thoughts.] [Hehe, men just love to pretend. Sis, believe it or not, the moment your plane landed, his heart landed too.] [So exciting, begging for a tutorial on training dogs, Sister Scarlett.] God. What exactly did I do to Julian later? Why are there such explicit descriptions? My face flushed red. Heart racing. No. He clearly hates me. I can still never forget the shattered look in Julian’s eyes in the rain that year. He begged me humbly, “Scarlett, don’t go.” “I’ll get better, I’ll earn lots of money, please don’t go.” Back then, I only had eyes for wealth and fame. And the crippled Julian couldn’t give me any of that; he would even drag me down. I coldly shook him off, my gaze falling on his legs that couldn’t stand. “Stop dreaming, Julian.” His lips trembled at my words, and he didn’t say another word to keep me. Then he watched helplessly as I got into the Maybach and drove away. Such betrayal is fatal to any man. He would only hate me. Every minute, every second.

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My mom is a kleptomaniac who’s afraid of getting caught, so she’s always used me as a shield. When I was little, she’d hide stolen candy in my pockets, then loudly blame me: “Why are you so greedy? I’ll sew your mouth shut at home!” To look good to the neighbors, she even stopped buying me formula, stunting my growth. Later, she stole a friend’s iPhone from their house and, when caught, cried, “How could I raise such a bad child!” My friend left me, and I was isolated at school. I ended up working in a factory after graduation. On my wedding day, she slipped my mother-in-law’s gold necklace into my purse. When it went missing, she disowned me publicly: “You’re still stealing from your mother-in-law? You’re a disgrace!” The video spread, and everyone called me a gold-digger. I jumped into a river in despair. When I opened my eyes, I was back in that supermarket, hearing my mom tell the cashier I stole the candy. I looked up innocently and said sweetly, “Mommy, you put the candy in my pocket. Why are you lying?” 1 The words hung in the air. My mother’s face instantly flushed a deep shade of crimson. Without a second thought, she clamped her hand over my mouth. “You naughty girl,” she hissed, “how dare you lie after you’ve been caught!” I looked at her face, twisted with guilt and panic, and a storm of hatred and fury surged within me. This was the face that had ruined my life. I knew why she had this sickness. Growing up, she was convinced my grandparents favored her younger sister, my aunt, giving her all the things that should have been hers. But I remembered clearly—my aunt wore my mother’s old clothes and played with her old toys. Despite the reality, this false sense of deprivation clung to her like a toxic vine for her entire life. After she got married, she started shopping compulsively, racking up crippling credit card debt. When my father left, it only got worse. Stealing was the only way she could feel that pathetic, twisted thrill of getting something for nothing. I used to feel sorry for her. I naively believed that if I just grew up, made money, and gave her the best of everything, I could cure her. I was wrong. Every time she was caught, she threw me in front of her as a human shield without a moment’s hesitation. From a few scallions at the market to my mother-in-law’s gold necklace at my wedding, she built her own innocence on the ruins of my reputation and my life. I was condemned by everyone, branded a gold-digger, and scorned by the world until I finally threw myself into the cold, dark river. This time, I would not be her scapegoat. I couldn’t save her, but I had to save myself. The memory faded, and the stares of the people around the checkout counter felt like needles on my skin. I pried her hand from my mouth and, with all the strength my small body could muster, I shouted in my most childlike voice, “My teacher at daycare said we can’t touch anything in the supermarket! We have to wait for the cashier lady to go ‘beep,’ and for mommy and daddy to pay the money. Otherwise, it’s stealing!” I looked up at her, my voice filled with faux concern. “Mommy, you’re a grown-up. Why don’t you listen to the teacher? Why do you have to steal? Look, even Jane is a good girl!” My voice cracked with staged fear. “Mommy, the teacher said a policeman will come and take you away if you steal! Please put the candy back! What if the policeman comes?” I let my eyes well up with tears, perfectly playing the part of a good child terrified by her misbehaving parent. 2 I was giving her one last chance. If she admitted her mistake right then, showed even a flicker of remorse, maybe there was still a sliver of hope for us. But she reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her voice shrieking. “When did you learn to lie like this? Everyone, be my witness! I’m a grown woman. Do you really think I, who can have anything I want, would steal a cheap lollipop?” As she spoke, she poked my forehead with a look of profound disappointment. “Have I starved you? Have I not given you enough? Is this how you repay me, by humiliating me in public?” I wasn’t going to give her another chance to perform. My heart was no longer soft. My voice was clear and crisp, not loud, but sharp enough for everyone who was pretending not to listen to hear every word. “Mommy, in your pocket, after you weighed the scallions, you secretly added some expensive garlic to the bag.” Her face froze. I pointed to the clip in her hair. “And that barrette on your head. You took it from the shelf, and when no one was looking, you ripped off the price tag and put it right in your hair.” A wave of stifled gasps rippled through the crowd. My mother’s lips trembled. She couldn’t form a single word. In a fit of rage and shame, she raised her hand and slapped me. The sharp crack echoed in the suddenly silent supermarket aisle. My cheek stung with a fiery pain. “Hey! What kind of mother hits her own child?” A woman with curly hair, one of our neighbors, stepped in and pulled me behind her. “You can teach a child if they’re wrong, but you don’t hit them!” “Exactly! We all saw it. The kid was making perfect sense. You’re only hitting her because you’re guilty!” another person added. The cashier’s face hardened. She pressed a button on her console. “Manager, security, we have a shoplifter over here, and she’s hitting her child. Please come handle this.” My mother was completely cornered. Faced with the contemptuous stares and the approaching security guards, she had no choice but to grit her teeth, pay for everything she’d taken, and pay a hefty fine on top of it. After that incident, my mother’s carefully crafted image as a simple, honest woman in our neighborhood was shattered. She had to behave herself for a while. To put on a show of being a good mother, she even went out of her way to have someone buy expensive imported formula for me, terrified I might say something else to expose her. But at night, when we were alone, she would stare at me with eyes full of poison, as if I were her mortal enemy. That repressed anger finally found an outlet at my aunt’s wedding. This time, she went for something big. At the wedding, I was the flower girl, dressed in a beautiful princess gown, carrying the ring box. Just before it was time to walk down the aisle, I opened the velvet box. It was empty. The ring was gone. Before I could even panic, my mother’s shrill cry echoed through the backstage area. “Oh my god! Jane! How… how could you steal your aunt’s ring?!” She snatched the empty box from my hands and rushed out to face the crowd, tears streaming down her face on command. She beat her chest in despair. “You have shamed me! How could you touch something so valuable?” 3 My aunt, Claire, instinctively pulled me behind her, frowning at my mother. “Sis, don’t scare her.” My aunt and my mother had a complicated relationship. My grandparents did have a favorite, but it was my mother. Aunt Claire grew up wearing my mother’s hand-me-downs and playing with her old toys. The fact that my mother still believed she was the one who had been mistreated just shows how subtly and completely my grandparents had spoiled her. Now that they were grown, my aunt wanted to mend their relationship, but my mother was resentful and constantly made sarcastic remarks. The fact that my aunt had married well and her husband was throwing her a lavish wedding after the birth of my cousin, Leo, had pricked my mother’s fragile ego. She was practically insane with jealousy. So, of course, she wasn’t going to let the wedding go off without a hitch. In my last life, because of the supermarket incident, my aunt already harbored doubts about me. She believed I had bad character and gave a coveted spot at a top elementary school to someone else in exchange for getting my mother a cushy job as a dorm supervisor there. My mom had it easy. This time, the supermarket scandal was over. I couldn’t let my aunt misunderstand me again. I lowered my head, feigning shame. “I didn’t steal the ring… I might have lost it by accident. But… but why did Mommy’s first thought was that I stole it?” I directed this question at my aunt. My mother realized she had acted too hastily. But in front of all our relatives, at the wedding of the sister she envied most, she couldn’t possibly admit to stealing the ring. Her reputation would be ruined. She had to pin it on me. It was the perfect way to save herself and punish me for my disobedience at the supermarket. She immediately adopted a heartbroken expression. “Claire, my dear sister, I’m not accusing her without reason! This child has always had sticky fingers. She steals erasers at school, candy from the store… and if I say anything, she talks back! It’s all my fault. I haven’t been a good mother!” She was a masterful actress, portraying a long-suffering single mother betrayed by her wicked daughter. In an instant, she had stolen the spotlight from the bride. The relatives began to whisper. “Well, it’s not easy raising a child alone. She can’t watch her every second.” “That kid has some nerve, causing trouble at an event like this. She’s just bad to the bone.” “So greedy at such a young age, stealing something so expensive. What will she be like when she grows up? No one will want to marry her.” The tide of opinion turned against me. Aunt Claire looked at my mother’s pitiful performance, and her resolve began to waver. A look of guilt crossed her face. “Sis, she’s still young. You can still teach her.” Seeing that she was about to be convinced, I panicked. I grabbed her dress. “Auntie Claire, you can’t think that! It hurts Jane’s feelings!” I cried out. “At the supermarket, it was Mommy who was stealing, and she blamed me! My teacher said that’s called slander!” I stood up as straight as I could. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask the ladies in our neighborhood!” My conviction seemed to sway her again. A flicker of sympathy for me returned to her eyes. Sensing she was losing control, my mother unleashed her ultimate weapon: a full-blown tantrum. She plopped down on the floor and began wailing, slapping her thighs. “Why is my life so hard! My parents and my sister bullied me when I was a kid, and now my own daughter is doing it!” She pointed a trembling finger at my aunt. “Claire! You invited me here today just to make a fool of me, didn’t you! I told you not to make Jane the flower girl, I was afraid she’d cause trouble, but you never listen! It’s always been this way! Everything has to be your way, and Mom and Dad always told me to let you have it! I’m the older sister!” She was building to a crescendo. “And now my daughter steals something and blames it on me, and you take her side! You spoil her rotten, and now she doesn’t even respect me, her own mother! Fine! It’s your big day, I won’t make things difficult. Fine! You win! I stole the ring, okay? I’ll pay you back! Is that what you want to hear?!” 4 My aunt was overwhelmed with guilt. In her mind, my mother had never done anything truly terrible, and her heartbroken cries seemed genuine. Her wavering resolve finally snapped, and she sided with my mother. I knew this would happen. My aunt was soft-hearted, and my mother was a professional victim. After years of a tangled sisterly bond, it was inevitable. Still, a bitter sadness washed over me. In this drama, I was completely alone. Tears, real ones this time, began to fall. I sniffled and said in a small, choked voice, “Auntie Claire, Mommy said she wanted to check the ring box, so I gave it to her. When I got it back, the ring was gone.” I thought the tears of a six-year-old might earn me some compassion. But instead of comfort, I was met with my aunt’s suddenly icy gaze. “Jane, who taught you to say all that?” Her voice was stripped of all its former warmth. “Your mother wouldn’t hurt you. But you, at such a young age, you’ve already mastered the art of twisting the truth! If I hadn’t known your mother my whole life, I might have actually been fooled by you!” My uncle, Mark, holding my baby cousin who was sucking on his fist, added his own sarcastic comment. “We’ll have to be careful how we raise our son. Sis, raising a child on your own is so tough. We should have been more considerate.” His words were meant to comfort my mother, but they were another knife in my heart. My grandparents, who had always been kind to me, were now shaking their heads in disappointment. “Stealing and lying at her age… what will become of her?” “What a disgrace to the family.” The other relatives all started pointing and whispering. My mother, seeing her victory, stopped crying. A triumphant smirk flickered across her face. She had successfully made me the villain and deepened my aunt’s guilt towards her all at once. My heart sank. I had nothing left to lose. “No, Auntie Claire! Why would I take your ring? It was Mommy! She’s jealous of you and Uncle Mark! She wanted to steal the ring so you couldn’t get married!” My aunt’s face darkened completely. She looked at me with profound disappointment and said, each word a hammer blow, “The spot at the elementary school next year… you can forget about it. If I recommended you and you started stealing from your classmates, how could I ever show my face again?” My grandparents immediately cooed over my baby cousin. “Look at you, Leo. Mommy is so good to you, and you’re so grateful and sweet. Your cousin is six years old and still so naughty.” My mother was still leaning on my aunt’s shoulder, sobbing quietly, but the corner of her mouth was turned up in a smile no one else could see. I looked at their cold, accusing faces, and I felt the blood turn to ice in my veins. In the suffocating silence, my baby cousin, who had been quiet in my uncle’s arms, suddenly stretched out a chubby little hand and pointed at a round camera on the ceiling in the corner of the room. “Jane… no steal…” he babbled. “Look… black ball! Ball… know!”

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My boyfriend, Liam, got amnesia. He forgot he was gay. He forgot me. Chasing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I didn’t plan on doing it a second time. Coincidentally, his mother also hoped he could return to his “original” life track. I compromised and went back to being a stranger in his life. But when I pretended not to know him as I walked by, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. “Sorry if I offended you… it was muscle memory saying I should hug you.” 1 Before going to sleep, I remembered another one of Liam’s flaws and noted it down: [ severe procrastination, always waits until midnight to shower. ] Scrolling down the screen, I had already listed more than twenty items after racking my brains these past few days. I thought, when I hit fifty, I could completely let go of Liam. Liam was my boyfriend, a straight guy I had chased for a long time. He got amnesia. He forgot he was gay, and he forgot me. And there was almost no possibility of recovering his memory. This blow to me was no different from painstakingly setting up dominoes, only for them to suddenly collapse halfway through, wasting all previous efforts. We were both people with distinct personalities, and it took a long time to smooth things out between us. Compromising with each other, yielding to each other, changing ourselves to fit the other person. Just as life was getting more and more harmonious, the progress bar suddenly reset to zero. When his accident happened, I was on a business trip. Rushing back, I saw him smiling and joking with a beautiful nurse. I already knew the diagnosis on the way, but I still wondered if he was pranking me. Seeing that familiar yet strange smile, I realized it was real. He noticed me by the door, looked me up and down with an inquisitive gaze, and finally gave me a friendly nod. That distant attitude made my world spin, and I couldn’t breathe. Liam’s mother supported me and led me aside. Two years ago, she was very dissatisfied with me turning her son gay, but finally compromised out of helplessness. This accident, she said to me, might be a good thing. Sure enough, she held my hand and pleaded: “Alex, can you let him go and let him live a normal person’s life?” Erasing chat records, deleting photo albums, informing mutual friends. Exiting someone’s world turned out to be so simple. 2 Liam left quite a few things in our small home. I packed them all up and sent them back to the Zhou family. I confirmed with his mother that Liam wasn’t there before going, but unexpectedly ran into him returning just as I was leaving. As the elevator doors opened, he twirled his car keys, his eyes meeting mine, and let out an “Ah”. “It’s you.” He stepped aside. “Did you come to see me? I’m fine now. Thanks for coming.” I quickly controlled my expression and stepped out of the elevator. “No, I heard from your mom.” Liam hesitated to speak, looking a bit embarrassed. “Um… sorry, I lost a few years of memory, so I don’t really remember who you are… To visit me at home, was our relationship pretty good? Were we colleagues?” Although I was mentally prepared, hearing him say this still caused a dull pain in my heart, and endless bitterness welled up. Forcing down the surging emotions, I tried to keep my voice steady: “Yeah. We were in the same project group. I’m Alex. When you return to work, I can help you catch up.” Liam’s expression relaxed, revealing a grateful smile. “Thanks. Want to come up and sit for a while?” I could tell it was just politeness. Not long after we got together, Liam took me home. I wandered downstairs, hugging a pillar, afraid to go up. He hoisted me onto his shoulder and carried me into the elevator, trapping me in the corner so I had nowhere to run. At that time, he smiled and comforted me: “Don’t worry, my mom doesn’t hit people. If she really does, I’ll carry you and run.” I looked at Liam, who was wearing a distant smile now, and lowered my eyes. “No need. See you at the company.” Back in the car, I opened the memo app, fingers trembling as I noted another one: [ Taste regressed, the cologne he chose smells awful. ] Almost 30 items now. The progress I anticipated was already halfway done. But no matter how many flaws I came up with, none could erase even a bit of his weight in my heart. I leaned back against the seat and sighed, when suddenly there was a knock on the car window. It was Liam. I rolled down the window, and he leaned down to look at me. “Maybe I’m being nosy, but are you really okay? You looked a bit pale just now.” I rubbed my face: “It’s nothing, maybe just a bit tired.” “Should I call a designated driver for you? I got into an accident because I was distracted while driving, better to be cautious.” No one knew what he went out to do that day. A few days before the accident, I vaguely felt he was hiding something from me, but I was never one to get to the bottom of things. Now that the person involved had forgotten everything cleanly, I would never know. “Thank you.” After being thanked by him so many times these past two days, I finally returned one. “But don’t worry, I value my life very much, I’ll be careful driving.” 3 I didn’t tell him that actually, we weren’t just colleagues, we were also college roommates for a year. In my senior year, I took a year off due to illness. When I returned, I was assigned to Liam’s dorm. I originally thought that in the last year, most people would be studying or preparing for exams, so there wouldn’t be much interaction. But Liam swaggered into my life just like that. Considering my poor health during recovery, he fetched food for me, ran to the counselor for materials, accompanied me to follow-up checks, and even guarded outside while I showered, worried I might suddenly faint. He said: “We’re bros, I should do it.” If it were before, I would never provoke a straight guy. But after hovering between life and death—what’s there to restrain? I’m going to date the person I like, dammit. If he’s straight, then I’ll bend him. I want to live in the moment. I chased him for more than half a year, but didn’t succeed even by graduation. On the day of leaving school, I put the offer from the same company as him and the flight ticket back to my hometown in front of him, asking him to choose one for me. He glanced at it and said: “Stop chasing so dryly.” Hearing this, my heart died completely. I pulled my suitcase and was about to leave. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. I fell onto his lap, and before I could react, he held the back of my neck and kissed me hard. “Can’t you just kiss me directly?” 4 Liam’s return to work happened half a month later. The leader arranged a colleague for him to guide him back into the workflow. Amidst a circle of greetings and inquiries, he cast a puzzled look at me. I sat outside the crowd, head down, drinking water. He took the casual lie I told that day seriously. Unsurprisingly, he blocked me in the pantry. “Alex, why isn’t it you?” “I’ve been a bit busy lately.” I shoveled creamer into my coffee cup, masking my guilt. “So the team leader arranged someone else. He’s very capable, you’ll be fine with him.” “But… I asked others, and they said our relationship isn’t good at all, we barely talked.” … I thought for a moment and said sincerely: “They’re right. It’s just that I’m a person whose love overflows easily. Even when the cleaning lady sprained her ankle, I went to visit her.” Liam shut his mouth. His gaze moved down to my coffee cup, half filled with white powder. “You can’t drink that, non-dairy creamer is bad for your health.” These words, this tone, made me dazed for a moment, thinking he hadn’t lost his memory. Liam didn’t let me eat junk food, he was very strict. Every time I craved junk food, I could only order takeout behind his back. I’m really not good at disguising, always getting caught. On the days I got caught, he would torment me until dawn, claiming to help me metabolize it quickly. I smiled, brewed it in front of him, and gulped down a big mouthful. “I just like this cheap taste.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, clearly forcing words back down. “If there’s nothing else, hurry back to work.” I wasn’t sure if I stayed alone with him any longer, I might say something I shouldn’t. As I walked past him, an arm suddenly blocked my stomach, gently pulling me in. I blinked slowly. That second seemed to be infinitely prolonged. Body heat separated by two layers of clothes, a firm chest, warm breath on the back of my neck. I froze on the spot, and Liam immediately pulled back. He looked down at his hand in bewilderment, his devastatingly handsome face now flushed red. “Sorry, sorry.” He stammered, apologizing in panic, “I don’t know what happened, suddenly just…” Truly strange. The brain doesn’t remember, but the body has its own memory? Liam and I were an underground office couple. Others only knew we didn’t communicate much and had an average relationship. But they didn’t know about our fingers intertwining in crowded elevators, bold hugs in the empty pantry, kisses masked by the sound of machines in the copy room. Perhaps having done these things too many times, the body already had inertia.

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On my twentieth birthday, the “real daughter” who had been stolen at birth suddenly showed up at our doorstep, crying that I had stolen her life. Unlike the timid real daughters in novels, she adhered to the “fight and grab” principle. From the moment she entered the house, she targeted me under the pretext of “taking back everything that belongs to her.” Whenever my parents showed me a little concern, she would cut her wrists and cry: “Your biological daughter suffered so much, yet you feel sorry for a thief. I’ll die to make you regret this!” My parents were so scared they had to coax her everywhere, ignoring and neglecting me. Even my fiancé fell under her spell, feeling sorry for her and scolding me: “Chloe suffered so much because of you, and you still provoke her? You are too vicious!” I defended myself, argued, but in the end, I could only swallow the humiliation alone. Until the World Ski Championships, where I was just one final race away from the gold medal. That was my lifelong dream. But the night before the competition, Lucas broke into my room and snapped my skis. “Tanya, you are a ski coach, you have enough gold medals. But if Chloe doesn’t get the gold medal, she will jump off a building. You’ve enjoyed the blessings in her name for so long, this is what you owe her.” “Tomorrow, announce that you are withdrawing from the competition due to a bad mood. It has nothing to do with anyone else. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee the lives of your club members.” This time, I didn’t make a scene. I just stared quietly at the skis broken in half and smiled: “Okay.” As long as you can afford the price. 1 Hearing this, Lucas suddenly lowered his brows and warned in a low voice: “Tanya, you are a fake daughter. Sooner or later you will be kicked out of the Tang family. When that time comes, you can only rely on me. I advise you not to play tricks and make Chloe sad again.” “Otherwise, I will reconsider my marriage partner.” “Whatever.” I shrugged indifferently. Lucas was furious. He snorted coldly and slammed the door as he left with a dark face. I sneered, pressed the stop button on the camera on my chest, and walked straight to the window to look at tomorrow’s track. Just then, a message popped up on the screen: “Lucas said that he will definitely help me get the gold medal that belongs to me. Look, he always stands on my side.” “You fake, you have occupied my life for so many years and enjoyed everything that should have been mine. It’s time to return it bit by bit!” When I was twenty, Chloe Su jumped out at my birthday party and said she was the real daughter. Her reason for claiming kinship was dramatic. She said she was the real daughter swapped by the nanny with her own child. And I was that nanny’s child. My parents questioned it immediately. Wealthy people’s children are not so easily swapped. But she was different from those timid real daughters in novels. She didn’t panic at all. She directly took out a paternity test to completely confirm her identity as the real daughter. Then she rushed over and forcefully tore off the exquisite diamond crown on my head and all the jewelry on my body, putting them all on herself, self-righteously: “Give them back to me! A fake daughter like you has no right to wear these things!” “I am the eldest miss of the Tang family. Today’s birthday party is also to celebrate for me. You, a thief and fake who stole someone else’s life, should leave sensibly!” I grew up in my parents’ love and had never suffered such grievances. At that moment, my hair was messy, and there were deep red marks on my neck and wrists. I stood there at a loss. My parents wanted to come over and hug me in distress, but Chloe “tsk-ed” and rolled her eyes at me: “Will you fake daughters die if you don’t pretend to be pitiful for a day?” “Mom, Dad, you have been bewitched by this fake. I am your biological daughter. How can you treat me like this?” My parents were bluffed by her, looking at her and then at me, their faces full of hesitation and dilemma. “Although you are our biological daughter, Tanya…” Before they finished speaking, Chloe quit. She sat on the ground and cried loudly: “Enough! Are you going to say that only Tanya is your treasure and tell me not to dream of replacing her?” “Fine! I want everyone to see your bias!” Half of the socialites were there at the time, and her crying attracted the attention of many guests. My parents’ faces were extremely ugly, so they could only let me go home to rest first. Before leaving, Chloe snatched my diamond-encrusted high heels. If my parents hadn’t stopped her, even my haute couture dress wouldn’t have been saved. I returned home embarrassed and lost. My fiancé Lucas, who had specially rushed back from abroad to celebrate my birthday, was furious when he found out. He hugged me and swore to me: “Tanya, don’t worry, you still have me. I won’t allow anyone to bully you.” I was very moved at that time, hugging him and venting all my grievances and panic. At first, he did it, making Chloe cry again and again. But in less than three months, he became Chloe’s most loyal dog, turning his gun to deal with me. Just like today. He knew that winning the skiing championship was my dream and promised to protect me for a lifetime, but he still forced me to give it to Chloe. Truly ridiculous. Feeling the arrogance between the lines of Chloe’s message, I couldn’t be bothered to respond and turned off the screen. I wanted to wait until the competition was over. But since you insist on running into the muzzle, don’t blame me for being impolite. 2 The next day, the World Championship finals were the center of attention. The camera focused on me, and I spoke slowly: “Due to poor personal condition, I cannot complete the competition in my best state. After careful consideration, I have decided to withdraw from the World Championship finals. All responsibilities are borne by me alone and have nothing to do with others.” As soon as the words fell, the scene was in an uproar. The real-time live broadcast on the LED screen was instantly drowned by bullet comments. “Running away before the battle? So disappointing!” “What kind of athlete has such a poor mentality? Heard she’s a coach too. How can she teach others with such trash skills?” “I liked her so much before, I really misjudged her!” Not far away, Chloe was nestled in Lucas’s arms, her eyes full of triumph and provocation. I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention and walked off the stage expressionlessly. Chloe, who had been ready for a long time, cast a confident and charming smile in Lucas’s direction. Since returning, she couldn’t wait to declare everywhere that she was the real daughter of the Tang family, degrading me as a fake daughter who occupied the magpie’s nest and wanted to frame her at all times. I questioned her, but she said I didn’t do it because I was discovered by her and felt guilty. She also used me to gain followers under the banner of “slapping the fake’s face,” marketing herself as a cool novel heroine. Now as soon as she appeared, the atmosphere at the scene instantly reached a climax. The live broadcast room also boiled over because of her. “Snow Goddess Chloe Su is the athlete we should chase, throwing a certain deserter ten streets behind!” “Ahhh, the look Chloe gave President Lucas was so sweet. Although Tanya is the one engaged to President Lucas, I believe Chloe and President Lucas are true love! Some fakes can’t be jealous!” “Character is strength. Chloe has been wandering outside for so many years but is still kind and hardworking. She deserves to succeed! Fake daughter Tanya who stole Chloe’s identity should get out of the sports circle early!” Outside the venue, Lucas stared at the blue figure, the tightly pursed corners of his mouth finally curling into a smile. The moment she finished the competition, he immediately stood up to applaud and cheer for her. The large screen at the scene timely gave a split-screen close-up of me and her. On one side was me, pale and solitary. On the other was the radiant new champion. The contrast was stark. She held the gold medal, tears flashing in her eyes facing the camera, her voice choked. “To have today, I want to thank Brother Lucas the most. Without his support and trust… I couldn’t have come this far…” Cheers inside and outside the venue came wave after wave. I walked back to the lounge alone. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I unlocked the screen, and Chloe’s photo in the family group came into view. In the photo, she leaned into Lucas’s arms, clutching the gold medal tightly, smiling brilliantly. “Thank you, Mom, Dad, and Brother Lucas for your support! Although it’s a pity that sister withdrew today, I will work hard for her dream too!” The next second, my parents’ replies popped up. Mom: [Chloe is amazing, Mom is proud of you.] Dad: [Not bad, guard against arrogance and rashness, keep working hard.] I stared at the tender dialogue on the screen and sneered. Exiting the chat interface, social media platforms had already exploded. The news headlines pushed were meaner one after another. “Irony! Tang family’s useless fake daughter Tanya loses to pressure and flees before battle, heroine real daughter Chloe Su carries the banner to win glory for the country!” The comment section was full of filth. I turned off my phone expressionlessly. On the ground, the pair of skis broken by Lucas himself still lay there quietly. I walked over, slowly squatted down, fingertips lightly brushing the jagged cross-section. Memory was violently pulled back to that summer. When I was fourteen, he mysteriously pulled me under a plane tree and presented a long, exquisitely packaged object from behind like a treasure. “For you, Tanya.” His eyes were shining, as if full of stars. I opened the package; inside was a pair of skis. Two words were carved on it: Lucas & Tanya. He scratched his head, ears a little red. “Tanya, I heard you’re going skiing. Use this from now on.” “When you learn, we’ll go skiing together every winter.” He looked at me, eyes burning. “I’ll accompany you. Wherever you go, I’ll accompany you.” “If you become an athlete in the future, then I will only applaud for you alone.” The sunlight that day spilled through the gaps in the plane tree leaves, dancing on him, exceptionally bright. Later, I really embarked on the path of skiing. I used many more expensive skis and won countless medals and honors. But this pair of skis was always by my side. Every important competition, bringing it along, I always felt exceptionally at ease. We once hugged and kissed in front of these skis. After I won my first national championship, he hugged me tightly and said in my ear: “Tanya, I knew you could do it.” The vow was still in my ears, but the person had long changed. In a trance, a voice suddenly came to my ear. 3 “Chloe needs a better venue for training. Give her the specially approved training hall, and your Snow Wing Club, give it to her too.” I looked up. Lucas stood beside me at some point. He paused, his tone carrying a trace of disgust. “After all, you enjoyed preferential treatment for more than twenty years with her identity, while she suffered for more than twenty years. This counts as a little compensation for her wandering outside in the past.” “Tanya, you owe her this.” “I don’t owe her.” I interrupted him, my tone cold and hard. “Since you believe whatever she says, don’t come to me.” “You said you wouldn’t touch the club. My things, I won’t give an inch.” Lucas snorted coldly, tone disgusted. “Tanya, you always have this self-righteous tough look, as if the whole world owes you.” “Chloe is understanding and grateful. Can’t you learn from her and change your bad temper?” “Also, I am not asking for your opinion. The handover will be completed tomorrow morning.” The man who once said he would protect me for a lifetime now turned against me because of a sentence from another woman. It would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt. But I don’t know when it started to change. Probably that time, Chloe habitually picked a fight at the dinner table: “Some people have good stomachs and can eat such oily Spicy Chicken. Poor me, I have never had enough to eat since I was a child, my stomach is bad, and I feel uncomfortable eating it.” If it were before, Lucas would only say annoyedly: “Get out if you don’t eat.” But that time he immediately raised his hand, moved the dish I had just touched far away, and said to me: “You eat something else.” And Chloe, eating the food Lucas personally picked for her, was like winning a battle, lifting her chin to cast a proud and mocking look. Or maybe that time I fancied a limited edition necklace and used connections to get a reservation. Chloe saw the photo and showed a little envy in front of Lucas. “The fake enjoys everything, the real one can only struggle to survive.” The next day, the necklace that should have belonged to me appeared on Chloe’s neck. When I questioned him, Lucas just frowned. “It’s just a necklace, when did you become so calculating? Chloe hasn’t lived a good life before, what’s wrong with making her happy?” “In the end, your mom is the murderer who caused her to wander outside.” Also, the most chilling time for me was when scratches inexplicably appeared on Chloe’s skis. She insisted with red eyes that I did it. Lucas didn’t even investigate, looked at me with a frown immediately, and scolded: “Tanya, I know you are angry, but don’t use such despicable means.” Such things became countless later. From being aggrieved at the beginning, I became too lazy to care later. Pulling away from the memories, I took a deep breath and made a phone call to arrange the handover matters. Since Chloe wants it so much, I’ll give it to her. Just don’t know if she has the life to enjoy it. The handover ceremony was arranged very high-profile. Chloe wore a tailor-made high-end suit, exquisite makeup, standing in the position that originally belonged to me. She secretly curled her lips, unconcealable pride in her eyes and brows. “Sister, don’t worry, I will definitely run the club better and won’t disappoint the expectations of you and Brother Lucas.” She looked at me, eyes full of showing off. I didn’t speak, just nodded gently. No one knew, as early as last night. All the core materials and members of the club were quietly transferred by me. The current club is just a glamorous empty shell. As I expected, a few days after taking over the club, Chloe started her tricks again. Anonymous former team members suddenly started exposing me online. Saying I got into several important competitions through the back door, and even posted a few blurry screenshots of evidence. Immediately after, more black material about me kept popping up. Saying I bullied newcomers and squeezed out potential juniors relying on my money. Public opinion was ignited again. 4 When Lucas found me with those black materials, his eyes were full of undisguised disgust and warning, “Tanya, I didn’t expect you to be so unbearable behind the scenes.” “Chloe is simple and pure-minded. You’d better behave yourself and don’t have any crooked thoughts to hurt her.” I chuckled lightly, voice sarcastic: “Lucas, when you came to question me with these things of unknown origin, claiming I was vicious and unbearable, did you ever think about how many years we have known each other?” “A full twenty years, can’t it compare to a few cries and forged screenshots from her?” “Did you even try to verify it once?” “Enough!” Lucas suddenly roared low, veins bulging on his forehead. “Tanya, why do you have to be unreasonable and bring up feelings every time? Admit it when you did wrong!” “I hope you remember today’s warning, behave yourself, and don’t trouble Chloe again. Otherwise, I will make you pay!” He gave me a deep look, then slammed the door and left. I sneered and withdrew my gaze. Before, always thinking of the unwavering love and heart-moving traces of our youth, I always endured it. But this also gave him the chance to hurt me again and again under the banner of “Chloe is miserable, I shouldn’t bully her.” But this is the last time. Lucas, it’s not that I didn’t give you a chance. But since you insist on hurting me for Chloe, don’t regret it when you discover the truth. Chloe was extremely vain and loved face. She insisted on making our parents hold a grand recognition ceremony again to let everyone in the city know her true identity. Lucas also spoiled her, booking the most luxurious hotel banquet hall in the city. On that day, celebrities from the business and sports circles gathered, and various media were also waiting in full battle array with cameras. The emcee’s voice was particularly clear. “Distinguished guests, we gather here today not only to celebrate Miss Chloe’s winning the gold medal for the country in the World Championships but also to announce good news!” “After rigorous confirmation, Miss Chloe Su is the biological daughter of the Tang family who was lost outside!” As soon as the words fell, there was applause. Chloe was protected by Lucas, head slightly raised, eyes red, looking excited yet restrained. “Miss Chloe not only has pure character but also showed amazing talent in skiing. Let’s review Miss Chloe’s elegance on the field through the big screen!” The huge LED screen lit up in response. Photos of Chloe rotating and jumping on the track played one by one, accompanied by exciting background music. Applause continued offstage, praising her as “Tang family’s real daughter with both talent and beauty.” Chloe held the microphone, sighing with some pity. “Being able to return to Mom and Dad really feels like a dream.” “I know, the fake sister who impersonated my life for twenty years may not be able to accept my appearance for a while, so she sulked and didn’t even participate in the competition…” “What I want to say is, I can be magnanimous and not care that sister still lives in a home that doesn’t belong to her, but things that belong to me, whether it’s honor or family, I will firmly hold in my hand.” She raised her chin slightly and spoke with a smile. “Sister, you will understand and bless me, right?” Meeting her nakedly provocative gaze, I also politely returned a smile. “Of course.” Just as the words fell, the screen originally showing photos of Chloe holding the gold medal suddenly changed into a video. The moment sound came from the video, the smile on Chloe’s lips froze instantly, and the color on her face faded completely.

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1 During a live reality show, the director asked me to call an ex. I pulled up my blocklist. “Which one?” As a D-list star known for flings, the chat exploded with hate. 【The most famous one.】 I pretended to think. “Who’s bigger — Jude Cole or Ross Downey?” The chat went silent. The guests froze. Jude is an Oscar-winning actor; Ross is a Grammy-sweeping singer. Linking them to me seemed absurd. The host forced a laugh. “You’re joking, right?” The chat raged: 【How dare you say his name!】 【If Jude ever noticed you, I’d eat my shoe.】 【Ross has nothing to do with you!】 【She’s just clout-chasing.】 I don’t joke. “So,” I repeated, “who’s bigger?” The chat fell silent once more. Then, all hell broke loose. 【Our boy is obviously the biggest star!】 【Ross was front row at the last awards gala. You tell me who’s bigger!】 【That was only because some second-rate singer stole Jude’s seat. The organizers even issued a public apology!】 【For your information, Ross Downey is the nation’s top artist. Scalped tickets for the seats outside his concerts go for twenty grand. Think about it.】 【Oh please. Also for your information, a single free ticket to one of Jude’s fan meets was resold for an insane price.】 Off-camera, the showrunner was frantically gesturing, his face a mask of panic. He seemed to be signaling, Don’t stir up trouble. The host looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Scarlett, please, just tell everyone it was a joke and they’re not really your ex-boyfriends.” Technically speaking, one of them wasn’t really an ex. He just thought I was still throwing a tantrum. “Fine, let’s invite Ross Downey.” The host sucked in a sharp breath. The chat was a warzone of crying and laughing emojis. 【Wait, is she serious? Is our boy really her ex?】 【Nooo, Ross, how could you fall for such a promiscuous woman!】 【Don’t cry yet. Wait for Ross to come out and shut her down.】 【LMAO, Jude dodged a bullet.】 【Phew, crisis averted.】 The first segment of the show ended there. It was only the premiere, and all the invited guests were nobodies like me. The live format was a gimmick to generate buzz and pull in viewers. Who would have thought that when it came to my turn to invite a guest, two of the biggest names in the industry would be thrown into the mix? After the broadcast, the director, Leo, approached me. “Scarlett, were you telling the truth?” Leo came from a wealthy family and was new to directing, which was why he dared to fund such an ambitious show. But even he didn’t want to get shut down by an A-lister’s team. “It’s true.” Still wary, he pressed, “Do you have any proof that you were together?” “I do.” The last photo we had. That was all that was left. Once he was sure, Leo prepared to contact Ross’s team. Asking for proof was the show’s backup plan. After all, not every ex was willing to appear on a reality show with their former flame. When I got back to my apartment, I was met with a furious call from my agent. “Scarlett, do you even want a career in this town anymore?” he seethed. “You signed an agreement with Regina. You are forbidden from ever publicly mentioning your past with Ross Downey.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Whether I have a career or not, does it really make a difference at this point?” “Issue a statement right now,” he ordered. “Clarify that everything you said on the show was a lie. It’s your only chance to avoid being blacklisted and sued for damages.” I ignored him and hung up. The internet was already ablaze with rumors, with most people convinced I was a pathological liar. But before I could post anything to defend myself, Ross Downey shot to the top of the trending topics. His post was just a few words. “We loved. She’s my ex.” The statement sent his tens of millions of fans into a collective rage. They were convinced I had somehow bewitched him, a momentary lapse in his judgment. The entire mob turned on me, the D-list actress who was shamelessly using a past relationship for a pathetic shot at fame. Just then, Leo called. “Scarlett, Ross’s manager, Regina, offered me three million dollars,” he said. “She wants me to cancel the show.” I fell silent. I didn’t want to back down, but I couldn’t drag him into my mess. “I’m so sorr—” “Guess what I told her?” His tone shifted, a hint of smugness creeping in. I paused. “You didn’t take it?” “She was desecrating my artistic vision!” he declared, his voice full of indignant passion. “A live reality show! What a magnificent creation!” So, the show would go on. “It just seems we won’t be able to get Ross on,” he added. I wasn’t surprised. It was the expected outcome. Then, his curiosity got the better of him. “So, if you’re not lying… is Jude Cole your ex, or your current boyfriend?” he asked excitedly. “Can I invite him instead?” I vaguely explained my situation with Jude. Leo let out a low whistle. “Weird.” “I’ll reach out to his team.” Jude was probably shooting a film overseas right now. News traveled slower there; otherwise, he would have already called, furious. Before the next episode could even be filmed, a termination contract from Starlight Media, my agency, arrived. It demanded two million dollars in damages and included a clause forbidding me from acting for life. My agent slammed the papers down in front of me. “Pack your things and get out of the apartment,” he snarled. “The company supported you for all these years, and this is how you repay us? Ungrateful.” “Supported me?” I shot back. “You call manufacturing gossip and fake scandals ‘support’?” His face flushed. “Bad publicity is still publicity! You think you would’ve gotten any attention without it? You probably wouldn’t have even landed this show.” He smirked. “Oh, and by the way, since you took this show without the agency’s approval during your contract period, you owe us an additional one million dollars in penalties.” That brought the total to three million. The irony was crushing. In the four years I’d been with Starlight, I had only earned a total of thirty thousand dollars. It was a pathetic sum compared to the fortune they were demanding. I signed the agreement without another word. Half an hour later, I walked out of the apartment building, holding a single box with all my personal belongings. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Regina. Homeless little stray. Her cruelty was sharp and direct. I put my phone away and walked toward the entrance. A sleek sports car screeched to a halt in front of me. It was Leo. He took off his sunglasses and cleared his throat. “I heard about what happened with your agency. It’s all because of our show.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you stay at my place for a while? We need to sort out a new contract for you anyway.” He was right. My old contract was through Starlight Media. Now that I was an independent artist, we’d have to draw up a new one. I stopped hesitating and, with my small box of belongings, got into the car. “Thank you.” We soon arrived at his place—a stunning, ultra-modern penthouse that looked like it had never been lived in. Leo showed me around with a proud grin. “Designed it all myself. You can stay here for free. Don’t worry, it’s completely private and secure.” I set my box on the table. “Where’s the contract?” “Right, the important stuff.” He pulled it out. “Here you go. Sign away.” As I signed, he couldn’t resist a bit of gossip. “So, those two guys… you’re over both of them?” I shook my head and handed the signed contract back to him. He took it and was already heading for the door. “I stocked the fridge. The next show is in two days, so get some rest.” Before I could say anything, he was gone. So he was really letting me stay here? I looked around the sprawling penthouse. It was a world away from the tiny apartment I’d lived in for four years—an apartment the company had “graciously” assigned me because my endless scandals attracted stalkers. The special guests for the next episode were mostly confirmed. The other D-listers’ exes were also nobodies, perfectly happy to appear on TV for a paycheck. Only my special guest remained a mystery. Leo couldn’t announce the full lineup yet, so he released the schedule for the second episode instead. Strangely, the moment the schedule went public, Ross Downey immediately reposted it, tagging Leo and demanding to be my guest as my “ex-boyfriend.” Leo was in a tough spot. He had, after all, already contacted my other ex. I had just stepped out of the shower when his call came through. “Scarlett, what do I do? Both of your ex-boyfriends are demanding to be on the show!” Though he was asking for advice, his voice was practically vibrating with excitement. I had no idea what to do either. I could understand why Jude would want to come—finding out you’ve become an “ex” on live television would make anyone angry. But why had Ross suddenly changed his mind? While Leo was still agonizing over the decision, Jude Cole dropped another bombshell. He reposted the show’s announcement, tagging Leo as well. “I’m her current boyfriend. Can I sign up too?” The internet exploded. The comment sections were a firestorm of hatred directed at me. 【I’m done. This world is officially insane.】 【Jude, what are you doing? Why would you get tangled up with Scarlett?】 【I’ve been single for twenty-six years, and I’m less popular than this two-timing train wreck?】 【Jude, did your fans forget to send you eyedrops with their gifts? Are you blind?】 【Just stop. This is all that witch Scarlett’s fault.】 【Can we please just ban her from the industry? I’m so sick of seeing her face.】 Some users even started blaming the random commenter who had first suggested inviting the “most famous” ex. I was scrolling through the hate when an unknown number called. I answered, and Jude’s voice, thick with rage, came through the speaker. “Scarlett, when did we break up?” he demanded. “Was this all some stunt to force my hand and make our relationship public? Well, are you satisfied now?” “We broke up last year,” I cut in, my voice flat. “It’s been exactly one year.” I hung up before he could respond, then reached up to wipe the dampness from my cheeks. Why are you crying? He’s just an ex. The next day, my phone was flooded with messages from Leo. 「This is insane traffic!」 「So many people want to invest in the show!」 「Scarlett, both of your ex-boyfriends want to come on.」 「I can’t choose between them.」 The last message was accompanied by a devilish smirk emoji. 「So I guess I’ll have to take them both.」 Which meant both of my exes were going to be on the show with me. For the second episode, the show’s budget had clearly gotten a massive upgrade. We moved from a small studio to a lavish, expansive set, complete with state-of-the-art cameras. The other guests, who were on my level of obscurity, now kept their distance. Only Chloe, an actress who’d built her career on an “innocent” persona, shot me a look of pure contempt. “You got kicked out of Starlight Media, so stop putting on an act,” she sneered. “Your fifteen minutes of infamy are almost up. Do us all a favor and stay away.” I was taken aback. “How did you know I was let go?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you seen the socials? Regina announced that the company has officially cut ties with a ‘disgraced artist’ like you.” I pulled out my phone. The number one trending topic was Regina’s announcement. The post was timestamped from the afternoon I’d signed the termination papers. No wonder Leo knew. The post had stayed at the top of the trending list for two whole days. Countless people were praising Regina for cutting out the “cancer” of the company. 【Starlight doesn’t tolerate freeloaders. Scarlett was the exception.】 【She was at the biggest agency for four years and all she did was date and start rumors. Couldn’t she have, you know, acted in something?】 【You don’t get it. Why bother working hard when you can just spread your legs for fame?】 The further I scrolled, the more vicious the comments became. Leo appeared at my side. “Don’t read that,” he said gently. “They’re just vultures latching onto whatever rumors they hear.” But I didn’t feel hurt. I’d seen worse. After years of being suppressed, numbness was the only emotion I had left. Besides, today was my last day in the entertainment industry anyway. I forced a smile. “Thanks for the concern. After today, it will all be over.” The show was about to start. The other female guests’ exes were already in place. Only Jude and Ross were missing. Leo kept checking his watch, his brow furrowed. “Don’t they have any concept of time?” Just as he spoke, Jude’s sharp, chiseled face appeared. His eyes scanned the crowd and found me instantly. The gaze that once held so much affection was now burning with fury. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he strode toward me. “Scarlett, you’ve got a lot of nerve,” he growled. “Come on. We’re going outside to talk about why I’m suddenly your ‘ex-boyfriend.’” Leo smoothly intercepted him, stepping between us. “Mr. Cole, the show is about to start. We’re live. If you cause a delay, I don’t care if you’re an Oscar winner or a nobody. I will tell the entire audience exactly why we started late.” Jude’s icy glare swept over Leo, but he finally relented and sat down next to me. Leo checked his watch again. “We can’t wait any longer. Cameras, get ready. Five-minute countdown.” Ross wasn’t here. I lowered my eyes, determined to avoid any interaction with Jude. But he wasn’t about to let me off the hook. “What’s wrong?” he sneered, his voice low and practiced in its cruelty. “Still waiting for your other ex-boyfriend? Did you join this disaster of a show just to get his attention? Is that why you broke up with me? Because you couldn’t get over him?” Chloe sidled up to Jude. “Jude, a woman like her can’t survive without seducing men. She was just shamelessly flirting with my ex right in front of me.” Jude glanced at the man standing behind Chloe. “Heh. He’s no Ross Downey. Why would she even bother?” His gaze snapped back to me, and he seized my hand, his grip like iron. “After all, you already had the perfect replacement, didn’t you?” I yanked my hand away. Chloe, however, looked as if she’d had a revelation. “Scarlett, have you no shame?” she cried, her voice dripping with condemnation. “You used Jude as a stand-in? If I had a boyfriend like him, I would cherish him forever.” It was a well-known fact that Jude and Ross bore a striking resemblance to each other. When Jude first entered the industry, people had jokingly called him “the next Ross Downey.” One record label even tried to sign him as a rival to Ross. But Jude had plunged headfirst into acting, refusing to ever set foot in the music world. And yet I knew. He had a voice that was every bit as good as Ross’s.

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