Category: English

I was a hopeless straight girl. I transmigrated into a steamy romance novel. To prevent myself from being tossed around in various unspeakable positions without limits. I resolutely started pretending to be a lesbian. Suddenly, I learned that I was the real heiress with three “chosen one” brothers. The fake heiress, the family favorite, cried her heart out, begging me not to take everything away from her. My heart ached as I wiped away her tears and gave her a peck on the lips. I promised: “Don’t worry, I’m a lesbian. I fell in love with you at first sight a long time ago. I’m not here to break up this family; I’m here to join it. Rest assured, you will only receive more love.” The fake heiress froze. My three brothers, who were preparing to intervene from a distance: ??? 1. I was a hopeless straight girl. I transmigrated into a restricted novel full of explicit scenes. The first male lead was a domineering CEO who could bankrupt companies with a snap of his fingers. He liked forced love and was addicted to sex. The second male lead was a cold and aloof doctor, a flower on a high peak. He was abstinent and restrained but loved playing with various toys. The third male lead was a rebellious movie star who said one thing but whose body did another. I was just hiding under my blanket in the middle of the night, trying to sneak a peek at some “good stuff,” never thinking I would transmigrate. I repented. I regretted. I pounded the floor, crying bitter tears. If I had known this would happen, I would have memorized the entire text. But just for the sake of the smut, I skipped all the plot. As a result, my mind was now full of nothing but explicit content, knowing nothing else. Oh wait, I also knew the heroine’s name. It turned out to be the body I transmigrated into. Silly girl, she must be regretting it so much her intestines turned green. 2. To prevent being endlessly demanded by those men, endlessly doing the deed. I resolutely embarked on the path of being a lesbian. From a young age, I avoided becoming anything like the heroine in that smutty novel. Dancing from a young age, having a soft and delicate body, being weak and timidly beautiful, able to perform various difficult movements to facilitate men doing this and that… Sorry. I practiced martial arts from a young age; I could take on five at once. More than once, I rescued sisters who were surrounded by thugs. With a swift hand, I beat those thugs until they pissed their pants. I wiped away the tears of the sister, brushed her soft hair, and whispered to her: “I’m here, don’t be afraid.” The sister buried her face in my chest, moved, calling me “Big Sister.” That’s right, although I had tried hard to avoid the heroine’s various “virtues.” Excellent grades, kind and soft-hearted, soft and delicate body… But, I still grew up with the devilishly curvy figure of a novel heroine. However, it didn’t matter. With my years of saving damsels in distress. My reputation as a lesbian had spread through every street and alley. Renowned far and wide. Successfully cutting off the vast majority of heterosexual luck. When I once again blocked a basketball attack for a cute girl on the playground, those boys finally couldn’t bear it anymore. “Maya, can you stop ruining our fun? Just because you’re handsome, just because you can block basketballs, just because you can flirt with girls.” How could I not know what those boys were thinking? Nothing more than picking a pretty girl they were interested in to hit, then taking the opportunity to apologize, strike up a conversation, and add her contact. But, sorry. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt girls. I raised my hand, the ball fell, a jump, a perfect shot. Then I gave a middle finger to mock them. “Little brother, can’t even shoot straight, and you want to flirt. Practice more.” The cute girl I just rescued looked at me with adoration. For me, it was just a daily routine. I waved my hand. A gritting voice sounded from behind: “How many sisters do you have exactly?” My childhood friend Sam, pulling his little handkerchief, said resentfully. I looked at the sky, pretending nothing happened. Then I solemnly promised: “Don’t worry, strictly speaking, as an orphan, I won’t have any sisters.” But I didn’t expect my sister to come so quickly. 3. When the powerful Huo family from the capital came knocking on my door, I was still a bit confused. I had three brothers who were like “chosen ones”? And a fake heiress sister who had taken my place and lived for seventeen years? How could life be as full of ups and downs as a novel? Oh, seventeen years, I almost forgot this was a smut novel. Suddenly, my alarm bells rang loud. Did it mean the explicit plot was about to start?! Impossible, absolutely impossible. I wouldn’t become like a broken rag doll, being played with on the bed all day. 4. I looked at the luxurious yet tasteful decoration of the Huo family home. At the stairs, a girl in a white dress was looking at me pitifully. I savored it carefully. Truly teary-eyed, inspiring pity. She took a step forward, held my hand, and spat sad words from her pink lips. “I know I occupied your identity for seventeen years and enjoyed all this, it’s my fault. But, please, please don’t kick me out, don’t take everything away from me.” “I can live in the maid’s room, give you my room. I won’t fight with you, sister, please let me stay.” As she spoke, she bent her knees, wanting to kneel. But how could I bear it? I immediately supported her. Heart aching, I wiped away her tears and gave her a peck on the lips. I promised: “Don’t worry, I’m a lesbian. I fell in love with you at first sight a long time ago. I’m not here to break up this family; I’m here to join it. Rest assured, you will only receive more love.” The fake heiress, Chloe, froze. My three brothers, who were preparing to intervene from a distance: ??? The teacup in Big Brother’s hand shook, spilling hot tea and burning himself. Second Brother’s probing gaze swept over me, wondering what he was thinking. Third Brother, who was about to run over, stumbled and almost fell.

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To satisfy the director’s sick fantasy, my wife told me she’d been forced onto the casting couch. “Honey, you can’t call the police,” she’d sobbed, her body trembling. “It would ruin me! You have to help me!” Her plan was for me to hide in a closet and gather evidence. I looked at her tear-stained face, my heart a frozen stone in my chest. If I hadn’t accidentally overheard that phone call three days ago, I would have been a puppet in her twisted little play. She buried her face in my chest. “You’re the only one who can save me, Cole. The only one who can save my career.” I stared down at her, my expression unreadable, until she looked up at me, a flicker of unease in her eyes. Only then did I speak, my voice flat. “If it’s what my darling wife wants,” I said softly, “then I’ll play my part.” A tremor ran through her body. A complex, unreadable emotion flashed across her face. If it’s a game you want, then I’ll play along. But we’ll be playing by my rules. 1 Three in the morning. The digital lock on the front door beeped softly. I sat in the dark living room, watching the figure stumble through the doorway. She was barefoot, clutching a designer high-heel with a snapped stiletto. The collar of her couture gown was ripped halfway open, revealing a cluster of angry red marks just below her collarbone. “Cole,” she gasped the moment I flipped on the lights. She launched herself at me. Her hair was a mess, her makeup smeared into a tragic mask. As she crashed into my arms, a foul cocktail of scents assaulted me. Her signature perfume was heavy, but underneath it, I could smell the acrid stench of tobacco. And something else… a coppery, intimate odor that made my stomach clench. But I didn’t push her away. I just forced myself to remain calm. “Stella? What happened?” Stella lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “It was Vance, the director. He’s insane! At the wrap party tonight, he kept forcing drinks on me, and then he dragged me into a private lounge…” She choked on a sob, unable to continue. I guided her to the sofa and went to get the first-aid kit. I used to be a medical examiner before I gave it all up to be her full-time husband. I have a professional’s eye for injuries. I knelt before her, tending to the scrapes on her knees. It was a dark, purplish bruise, swollen and raw from being rubbed repeatedly against a coarse carpet. This wasn’t from a fall. It was pressure-induced purpura, the kind formed from kneeling on a hard surface for a prolonged period. “He threatened me,” she whimpered, her whole body shaking. “He said if I didn’t do what he wanted, he’d blacklist me. Cole, I was so scared.” My hand, holding the cotton swab, froze just above her knee. I saw the marks on her wrists. They weren’t the messy, uneven bruises of someone being dragged against their will. They were a pair of neat, symmetrical bands of red. The kind left by restraints. “He was like an animal,” she continued, her tears splashing onto the back of my hand. “He ripped my dress in seconds.” “If I hadn’t smashed a bottle over my own head and run for it, tonight I might have been…” I glanced at her forehead. There was a slight red bump, but the skin wasn’t even broken. It was the kind of minor injury you get from a bit of rough foreplay, not a desperate escape. Does she really think I’m that blind? That stupid? My fingers tightened, and the cotton swab snapped in two. I tossed it into the trash without a word and grabbed a new one. “Cole, say something,” Stella pleaded, cupping my face in her hands and forcing me to meet her gaze. “Are you disgusted with me?” In the lamplight, her pupils were slightly dilated. I didn’t see the relief of a survivor or the shame of a victim. I saw a strange, unsettling excitement. “No,” I said, gently pulling her hands away. “I’m just thinking we should call the police.” The moment I said “police,” her body went rigid. “No!” she shrieked, then immediately softened her tone. “We can’t. Vance has things he can use against me, and there were no cameras in that room. We’d never win, and my reputation would be destroyed.” “Then what do you want to do?” Stella bit her lip, took a deep breath, and leaned in close, her expression one of grim determination. That nauseating mix of tobacco and sex filled my nostrils again. “I want revenge, honey.” Her voice dropped to a low, husky whisper. “A man like Vance… his biggest fear is having his reputation ruined. He told me he’s coming to my hotel room again tomorrow night.” “This is my only chance.” 2 She gripped my hand, her knuckles white. “Tomorrow night, we’ll set up hidden cameras in the room. But that’s not enough. What if he tries something else? It could all go wrong.” “Cole, I need you to hide in the closet.” I lifted my eyes to meet hers. “You want me to hide in the closet?” “Yes. You’ll get there first with a key card and hide inside.” She spoke faster now, a manic gleam in her eyes. “The hotel closets have louvered doors. You’ll be able to breathe, and you’ll see everything.” “You can record it all on your phone. It’ll be ironclad proof. The second you have footage of him laying a hand on me, you burst out and we catch him in the act!” “Please, Cole.” She buried her face in my lap. “It’s the only way to save me. Please!” The air grew thick and still. I looked down at my wife, kneeling at my feet. It was the perfect script. The victimized starlet, the monstrous director, and the husband forced to swallow his pride to protect his wife. If it hadn’t been for the phone call I’d overheard three days ago, the performance would have been flawless. She had gone to “discuss the script” with Vance that day and came back reeking of smoke. I have a thing about cleanliness, so I went to her car to place some charcoal air fresheners. The moment I got in, the car’s Bluetooth connected to her phone and automatically played her most recent call recording, a feature she’d set up to keep track of conversations with her agent. “Vance, darling, this new script is so thrilling. But what if that stiff of a husband of mine won’t play along?” A man’s greasy laugh. “Oh, he’ll watch. A pathetic weakling like that? You just have to cry a little, and he’ll do anything you say.” “Imagine him, stuck in the closet, watching us… Tsk, the thought of it… Tell me, my famous Stella, doesn’t that excite you?” “Stop it! Although… it does sound kind of hot. Having him watch with his own two eyes…” The rest of her words were lost in a series of suggestive moans. Her voice pulled me back from the memory. I looked at the woman at my feet, still giving the performance of her life. I wasn’t angry anymore. It was almost laughable. I, a medical examiner with a promising career, had given it all up for her, only to be treated like this. “Alright,” I said slowly. “If this is what it takes to help you, I’ll do it.” Stella’s head shot up, a triumphant smile she couldn’t suppress spreading across her lips. She threw her arms around me and planted a wet kiss on my cheek. The sickening smell washed over me again. I forced myself to return the embrace, resting my chin on the top of her head. My eyes fell on the large floor-to-ceiling mirror across the room. The man reflected in it was me, but his face was a blank, emotionless mask. If you want to act, then I’ll put on a real show for you. But this play won’t end according to your script. “Go take a shower,” I said, gently patting her back. “I’ve already run the water. Wash it all away.” Stella nodded meekly and headed to the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, the warmth vanished from my face. I walked to the entryway where she’d left her phone, screen-down. It was still on an active call. The screen read: “Vance.” I didn’t hang up. I just placed it back down as if I’d seen nothing. After her shower, Stella walked into the bedroom. “Honey, Vance just called. He wants to have dinner with us tomorrow. Can you make it?” she said, feigning annoyance. “I have no idea what he’s planning now, it’s so frustrating…” But I could see the glint of anticipation deep in her eyes. I nodded. “I’ll go. Let’s see what he has to say.” 3 At the dinner, I was seated at the far end of the table, the lowest position. “Alright, everyone, a toast!” Vance, at the head of the table, raised his glass. His fat face was flushed with alcohol, glistening with sweat and oil. I raised my glass with the others. Vance’s eyes slid right past me, landing on Stella, who was seated beside him. She was dressed for the part tonight in a black slip dress, the material thin and sheer. It was only then I noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. Her bare fingers were expertly peeling a crawfish. “Waiter! Is the AC in here set to arctic?” Vance suddenly boomed, rubbing his hands together dramatically. He then held one hand out in front of Stella. “My hands are freezing.” The table fell silent. Every eye in the room turned to me. Every eye except for Vance and Stella. I watched as my wife casually tossed the crawfish shell aside, wiped her fingers meticulously with a wet nap, and turned to the director with a dazzling smile. “Director Vance, you have to take care of yourself. We can’t have you catching a chill.” As she spoke, she took his greasy paw in her hand. Then, in front of the entire cast and crew, in front of me, her husband, she pulled his hand into her dress, nestling it in the warmth of her cleavage. “It’s warmer in here,” she purred. As his hand started to move, her eyes fluttered shut like a contented cat. “You just warm up right there. Honey,” she called to me, “can you go turn up the thermostat?” A wave of nausea washed over me, but I fought it down. I slipped my hand under the table and pressed the side button on my phone. The recording began. “Hahaha! You’re one of a kind, Stella!” Vance roared with laughter, his wrist moving beneath the fabric of her dress. The table erupted in sycophantic chatter. “Hey, you,” an assistant director said, kicking the leg of my chair. “Aren’t you going to toast the director? Your wife is so accommodating. Don’t you drop the ball.” I looked up and my eyes met Stella’s. She gave me a subtle look, a silent plea to endure this for the sake of the ‘bigger plan.’ “Cole.” Vance didn’t remove his hand. He simply used his other one to point at me with his wine glass. “Truth be told, there were a lot of actresses up for this role.” He let out a boozy burp. “If Stella hadn’t gotten on her knees and begged me the other day, you wouldn’t even have the right to be in this room.” “Of course. Stella is lucky to have your guidance.” “Look at you, so flexible!” Vance sneered. He grabbed a copy of the script and slapped me across the face with it, sending pages scattering to the floor. “You think one sentence from you is enough? Who the hell do you think you are?” I knelt to pick up the script pages. Under the table, I saw two pairs of legs tangled together. Vance’s Gucci loafers were resting firmly on Stella’s bare feet. “Alright,” Vance said, picking up the decanter, still half-full of red wine. “Since you’re asking me for a favor, you’ll drink this whole thing. Then I’ll give Stella another chance.” I have a severe ulcer. Stella knew this. The doctor had warned me that one more drink of hard liquor could perforate my stomach. I looked at her. She was nestled against Vance, her gaze floating over to me, cool and detached. “What? Not showing me enough respect?” Vance’s face darkened. “Honey,” Stella finally spoke. “So many people would kill for a chance to drink with Director Vance. Just do it for me. Drink up.” She stood, took the decanter from his hand. “Director Vance, your arm must be tired. Let me pour for you.” She walked over to me. “Drink it, Cole.”

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My boyfriend, who had never paid attention to my appearance, suddenly said something strange while blow-drying my hair two days ago. “You should dye your hair auburn. It would look so good. It really complements the skin tone.” This man, a complete fashion disaster, knows that auburn complements skin tone? Whose skin tone? 1 Water dripped from the ends of my hair onto my neck, cold as ice. I sat up, dodging his hand. Caleb’s breath hitched. He snapped back to reality. Realizing what he had just said, panic flashed in his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down rapidly. After a moment of silence, he awkwardly changed the subject: “Why did you sit up? Your hair isn’t dry yet.” I lowered my eyes. Even though my hands behind my back were trembling uncontrollably, my voice remained calm and natural: “It’s dry enough.” “It’s getting late. You should go shower.” He paused, then stood up compliantly. Habitually, he reached out to touch the top of my head and the ends of my hair. Confirming that my hair was indeed mostly dry, he finally left with relief. A moment later. The sound of water started in the bathroom. I suppressed the emotions churning in my heart and, with trembling hands, picked up Caleb’s phone. I entered the passcode. Five seconds later. The four words on the screen: [Incorrect Passcode], completely shattered my last shred of hope. I tried my birthday, Caleb’s birthday, our anniversary… none of them opened his phone. [Incorrect Passcode. You have 1 attempt remaining.] The cold, mechanical system prompt made my world collapse. For so many years, I never thought about checking Caleb’s phone. Because, until today, his passcode had always been my birthday. Because he had promised me that I could check his phone anytime I wanted. But the irony was, in the year I trusted him the most, he changed his passcode, and I didn’t know. What was even more ironic… Tomorrow was the day Caleb and I had been looking forward to for so long—our wedding day. Not far away hung the wedding dress and tuxedo we had carefully selected. Even a second ago, he was nervously confirming the details of tomorrow’s wedding with me over and over again. I didn’t want to believe it. But a clear voice in my heart kept telling me: [Caleb is cheating.] I curled up in the corner of the sofa. My hands were shaking so much I could barely hold the phone. The water in the bathroom stopped. Caleb walked out. Seeing me, his gentle and doting words slipped out: “Chloe, why aren’t you asleep yet?” “Didn’t you say you wanted to be the most beautiful bride tomorrow…” He stood in front of me. But when he saw what I was holding, the unfinished words got stuck in his throat. He was very close to me. Close enough that I could see his pupils constrict and the panic that flashed in his eyes. I stared at his slightly pale face and handed him the phone: “Why did you change your passcode?” 2 He forced a stiff smile. Pretending to be calm, he took the phone. His fingers paused on the screen for a second, then he skillfully entered the passcode and unlocked it. “Didn’t I break my old phone?” “The new phone’s passcode was set by the salesperson. I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had time to change it.” After unlocking it. He handed the phone back to me: “Look at whatever you want.” His confident demeanor dazed me for a moment. Perhaps he was too sure I wouldn’t check. When I raised my hand, his hand instinctively flinched back. I lowered my eyes and pretended not to see. I took the phone as if it were natural. While scrolling, I even managed to distract myself and casually explain to him: “My phone died. I suddenly remembered something and need to call Mom.” His contacts were clean. His chat history was wiped clean. Everything was flawless. But his shifting eyes and his constantly bobbing Adam’s apple still made my heart grow colder by the inch. I suddenly lost interest in investigating to the end. I handed the phone back: “Forget it, it’s not a big deal. I’ll ask her in person tomorrow.” Hearing my words, he breathed a sigh of relief. He chuckled: “I thought my wife was having pre-wedding jitters and wanted to check up on me?” I looked up and stared at him: “If I really wanted to check up on you, would you be scared?” He was stunned, then took two steps forward. He knelt on one knee in front of me, with a sincerity and certainty I had never seen before: “Of course not. After so many years, we finally made it here. How could I dare do anything to hurt you?” “When we got together, I swore that if Caleb ever did anything to hurt Chloe, he would be punished by losing Chloe forever.” “Chloe, you know that losing you would be worse than death for me.” I stared at this familiar yet somewhat strange face. I kept asking myself. Yeah, how could he dare? He’s Caleb. The Caleb who has loved me for eight years. How could he lie to me and betray me? I wanted to deceive myself again. But the text message notification for a three-thousand-dollar charge at a hair salon was still sitting in my phone. 3 Caleb went to the hair salon today. Spent three thousand dollars. And used my card. He probably forgot that the salon membership was linked to my phone number. When the text came in this afternoon, I was still making excuses for him. Maybe he took his mom to get her hair done since tomorrow is the big day. Maybe a relative came to town and wanted to get their hair done. Maybe… But, during the ten minutes he was showering. I had already called to confirm. None of our relatives had seen hide nor hair of him all afternoon. In other words. On the busiest day before the wedding. Caleb hid from everyone, took half a day off, and took a woman I didn’t know to get her hair done. And she dyed her hair auburn. That color must be beautiful. Beautiful enough that he, who was usually so cautious, blurted out today that I should change my hair color. I closed my eyes, suppressing the emotions surging in them. I said to him hoarsely: “You go to sleep first. I have some details to think over.” Caleb thought I was thinking about wedding details. His brows relaxed. He reached out and ruffled my hair, patiently comforting me: “Silly, don’t be nervous.” “Our wedding will definitely go perfectly tomorrow.” His phone chimed with a message notification. He glanced at it, turned off the screen as usual, and added: “Don’t stay up too late. I need to reply to a work message.” He went to the study. The door closed, shutting everything out. But, a few minutes later. He had changed his clothes, grabbed his car keys, and walked up to me with an apologetic face: “Chloe, there’s a huge problem with the project I’m working on. I have to go fix it tonight.” “Go to sleep first, don’t wait for me.” “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely make it to the wedding on time tomorrow.” The anxiety and annoyance on his face were undisguised. He didn’t even wait for my reply before rushing off. The sound of the car engine faded into the distance. I looked at the closed door. My heart was filled with sorrow. This kind of sudden overtime. Had actually happened several times in the past year. I had been suspicious before. But the occasional photos of him working overtime always managed to dispel my doubts in time. But today. I seemed to finally glimpse the truth. I stood up numbly and tore down every red decoration in our new home, piece by piece. When I was tired, I sat directly on the floor, hugged myself tightly, and let the tears blur my vision. Caleb, we have no tomorrow. 4 Morning light shone through the gap in the curtains. I stood up from the ruins. Cleaned myself up simply. And went to that hair salon I knew so well. When Caleb was frantically calling me, I was sitting in the salon listening to the stylist recommend the trendiest hair colors. I glanced at the caller ID. And silenced it. Half an hour later, I sent my location to Caleb. When he found me, he looked terrible. He stood at the door, trembling. He didn’t even have the courage to step inside. I stood up. Picked up the samples of auburn hair colors the stylist had found for me, and walked over to Caleb. I showed them to him one by one: “Pick one. Which of these auburn shades looks the best?” His face went instantly pale. His lips trembled uncontrollably, but he couldn’t say a word. I raised an eyebrow: “So it’s none of these? Let me look again.” He tried to grab me but didn’t even have the strength to reach out. I turned around. He finally recovered enough to grab the hem of my shirt. His lips quivered, his words broken. “Chloe, I’m sorry.” “But today is our big day. Our parents and relatives are waiting for us at the hotel.” “Let’s get the important stuff done first.” “When we get back, I’ll kneel and apologize, I’ll do whatever you want. You can hit me, scold me, anything.” I tilted my head and looked at him, asking seriously: “Did you really go to work last night?” His face turned even paler, and his hand clutching my shirt instantly lost strength and slipped off. I smiled slightly. I picked up the sample book in my hand and smashed it into his face. The hard edge of the book cut his cheek, leaving a stinging red trail of blood. He didn’t dare dodge from start to finish. Tired of hitting him. I sat back down on the stool. He followed me in, half-kneeling in front of me, his tone timid: “Are you feeling a little better?” “It’s almost time for the wedding…” I closed my eyes heavily, hiding the desolation in them. I didn’t know where Caleb got his confidence. After everything that happened, how could he naively believe the wedding could still go on as planned? I ignored him. I called the stylist over and cut off the long hair I had painstakingly grown for a year for this wedding. Caleb waited on the side, watching the hair fall to the ground strand by strand, not daring to utter a word of objection. Cutting back to my original short hairstyle, I was dazed for a moment. It turned out. After going in circles, short hair suited me best after all. What doesn’t fit, whether you insist for a year or eight years, still doesn’t fit. I exhaled the gloom in my heart. Turned and left the hair salon. Got into Caleb’s car. After all, I had to explain to everyone why the wedding was canceled because of what Caleb did.

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I saw a post online that stopped me in my tracks. “My wife is obsessed with me and she hasn’t done anything wrong, but she’s useless to me now. How can I make her leave the marriage with absolutely nothing? Advice needed!” Someone in the comments called him heartless. The original poster replied: “Marriage is a business transaction. I didn’t make her disappear. That’s already my greatest kindness!” I froze. The wife in the post sounded exactly like me. While he was in the shower, I secretly checked his phone. The post was his. I wiped his leather shoes meticulously, not shedding a single tear. But when I thought of my daughter, I coughed up a mouthful of blood. 1 I dated Ethan for four years and have been married to him for sixteen. Looking in the mirror, my hair is thinning, my figure is bloated. I look sixty, not forty. All these years, I supported my husband and raised our child, managing every detail of the household. My black hair turned gray; my smooth face became haggard. Our child is still in high school, yet he wants me to leave with nothing. I quietly wiped the blood from my hand and continued polishing his shoes. Ethan’s voice echoed from the bathroom: “Hey, get me some underwear!” I don’t know when it started, but he stopped calling me by my name or even “honey.” I quickly grabbed a pair of silk boxers for him. Ethan is extremely picky about what touches his skin. Most of his underwear is made of expensive silk. Meanwhile, I wear the cheapest clearance rack clothes I can find. Ethan dried his hair as he gave me orders: “Clean up the bathroom!” The bathroom was a disaster, as always. His dirty clothes were balled up in the sink. A sock and his old underwear were on the floor. The toilet wasn’t flushed, and the stench of urine hung in the air, with droplets on the seat. I have a sensitive nose and I’m a neat freak. “Can you flush the toilet next time?” “What’s the big deal? I give you so much money every month, you can’t do this one thing?” He gives me $500 a month. Just enough for groceries and basic utilities. Yet he acts like a king at home, throwing things everywhere, expecting me to clean up after him. I developed frozen shoulder, mastitis, and chronic stomach pain. Whenever I felt sick and wanted to see a doctor, he frowned: “You’re so dramatic. You do nothing at home but still manage to get sick!” So I endured the pain. No doctors, no medicine. This time, the pain was unbearable. I secretly went to the hospital for a checkup. It was breast cancer. Ethan didn’t know any of this. Right now, he was lying on the sofa playing on his phone, smiling ear to ear. “Ethan, do you remember the promise you made me years ago?” Ethan’s smile vanished, his voice icy: “You’re old enough to stop dreaming. Are you annoying or what?” I glanced at his screen. He had just tipped a pretty livestreamer $1,000. I lowered my eyes. “You said when our daughter started high school, you’d buy me health insurance. Can I have some money for that?” He looked disgusted. “Back payments for insurance would cost at least $20,000. I need money for stocks right now. Where would I get extra cash?” “Then… can we buy a cochlear implant? So our daughter can do speech therapy…” Our daughter lost her hearing as a child. If she gets speech therapy soon, she might have a chance to speak again. I didn’t expect him to buy me insurance. But I thought since he rejected me once, he wouldn’t have the heart to do it twice. But he rejected me again: “Enough! Stop bothering me! Go cook!” I clenched my fists. Ethan, you are so cruel. How can I trust you with our daughter? With a hardened heart and trembling hands, I crushed the sleeping pills I had prepared and mixed them into his takeout dinner. He scolded me for wasting money on takeout. I whispered an excuse about looking for a job and not having time to cook. He scoffed, burying his face in the food. “You haven’t worked in sixteen years, and you think you can do accounting? Keep dreaming! Cleaner, nanny, security guard—if you find one of the ‘Three Lows,’ you should thank God!” “And if you do find a job, I’m cutting the household allowance! I’ve supported you for years…” He kept rambling, grease on his lips, rice spraying onto the table. After eating, he sprawled on the sofa, rubbing his belly, leaving the mess for me. Suddenly, I felt sick. “The $500 you give me is barely enough for food! For a highly educated nanny who works 24/7 with no holidays, do you think $500 is enough? Why do you take it for granted that I clean up your mess?” “Jade, did you take the wrong meds today? Believe it or not, I’ll stop giving you a cent starting now!” I rolled my eyes and pretended to be distracted. Soon, the smell of burning fabric filled the room. I burned a huge hole in his silk shirt. He jumped up in anger: “Dammit! Can you do anything right? I needed that for the company annual meeting tomorrow!” I quickly apologized. He cursed, calling me a “useless woman,” and stormed back to the bedroom. 2 Thanks to the sleeping pills, Ethan slept like the dead that night. I used his fingerprint to unlock his phone. He was cheating, of course. With his secretary, sixteen years his junior. They said goodnight every evening. He called her “Baby,” she called him “Darling.” His monthly business trips were actually vacations with her, paid for by the company. He bought her expensive jewelry, Hermès bags, Chanel cosmetics… Every item was worth a fortune. And me, his wife? Besides my wedding ring, I didn’t own a single piece of jewelry. Whenever I envied other women for looking nice, he always said: “You stay at home all day. Who are you dressing up for?” I’m not afraid of hardship, but to be deceived and looked down on like this for years… Even worse, that woman was pregnant with his child. The day he took her for an ultrasound, I went to the hospital alone for my checkup. He cheered because she was carrying a boy. I walked ten miles home, crying in terror after my cancer diagnosis. But there was more. Ethan had been transferring assets for years. He moved money to third-party accounts—tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands. It added up to over a million dollars. How could he cry poverty and refuse to buy a $30,000 cochlear implant for his daughter? I couldn’t stand living with him anymore. That night, I pretended I found a job that required travel and moved out. In reality, I rented a cheap room in a rundown part of town. Before leaving, I secretly installed cameras in the house. Ethan probably thought I wouldn’t leave because I had no savings. But he didn’t know I had a mother who loved me with all her heart. Before she passed, she left me a nest egg: “Jade, this is my life savings. Don’t tell anyone. Unless you have no other choice, don’t touch this money!” In 2004, my mother passed away, leaving me $20,000. That money was my lifeline now. In college, I was a top student in Financial Management and a certified CPA. If I hadn’t quit to become a full-time mom, I would be a senior partner by now. No use dwelling on the past! Getting back into finance now would be incredibly hard. My daughter is deaf and mute. I need to leave her enough money so she never has to worry. I delivered food and worked odd manual labor jobs while waiting for an opportunity. It took a month to finally get an interview at an accounting firm. 3 To seize this chance, I spent my days reviewing accounting principles. During lunch, I watched the home security feed while I ate. Since I moved out, Ethan brought that woman home constantly. Sometimes their passion ignited right in the living room. What infuriated me most was that my daughter, home for the weekend, walked in on them. Ethan only yelled at her, not even noticing her bruised face. Or maybe he noticed and just didn’t care. My daughter left the house in anger. The two continued their intimate chat. “You’re reluctant to divorce your wife because she treats you well?” “She’s sick all the time. She’s useless to me now. Don’t worry, I can get rid of her with a few thousand bucks!” “What about your daughter? Is she still going to college?” Ethan frowned. “She’s deaf and mute. What future does she have in school? Getting her married off early is the real priority!” The woman sat up straight. “I have a nephew. His family is quite wealthy, though he’s a bit… slow. He’d be a good match for your daughter. Should we set them up?” Your idiot nephew is a good match for you, why don’t you try him? I was shaking with rage. I thought Ethan would be angry, but he said, “Once we’re married, you can arrange her marriage however you see fit.” They laughed and rolled around on the sofa. I went cold all over. My hands shook so hard I dropped my book. Panic drowned me. If I die, will my daughter’s fate be left in the hands of this adulterous couple? I rushed to my daughter’s school. The teacher said she hadn’t been in class for two days. Her grandmother picked her up. That meant the day after she caught Ethan cheating, my mother-in-law took her. My heart was on fire. I immediately took leave and headed to Ethan’s hometown. When I arrived at the village, the sun was setting, casting a blood-red glow over everything. Before I even reached the door, I heard my mother-in-law bragging loudly: “My granddaughter is deaf and mute, but she’s pretty! Don’t look at her mom now, she used to be the school beauty! Very pretty!” Surrounded by compliments, she got even smugger: “My son is even more impressive now. He’s about to marry the Chairman’s daughter! That girl introduced a suitor for my granddaughter. The boy is a bit slow, but his family owns a big factory! Once Lily marries him, our family will really be moving up…” Blood rushed to my head. I slammed the door open. My mother-in-law was playing mahjong with three other old women. Seeing me, her eyes went wide, mouth agape. “Why are you back?” “Where is Lily? Where is my daughter?” From an inner room came frantic banging and muffled cries. It was Lily! I rushed forward, but my mother-in-law blocked me. “What are you doing? You can’t just barge into my house!” I shoved her aside and opened the door. In the woodshed, Lily was handcuffed and shackled. Her hair was matted, eyes swollen. She looked at me, crying for help. My mother-in-law hurriedly explained: “Ethan found her such a good husband, but she wouldn’t listen! She insisted on going back to school. I had to lock her up so she would agree to the match…” Slap! I hit her across the face. “You old witch! This is kidnapping!” She clutched her red cheek. “What kidnapping? Watch your mouth! Do you know how rich that family is? Does a deaf-mute girl deserve such a good family?” Slap! I hit her again. “Old witch! Who caused Lily to be deaf and mute? You have the nerve to despise her?” When Lily was two, she had a high fever. My mother-in-law, favoring boys over girls, refused to take her to a doctor and fed her “holy water” instead. By the time I found out, the fever had burned out her eardrums. She was deaf. That was the pain and regret of my life. That year, to take better care of Lily, I quit my high-paying job to become a stay-at-home mom. After all these years, this old witch didn’t feel guilty. Instead, she despised Lily for her disability. My mother-in-law had tears in her eyes, wailing: “Help! Help! My unfilial daughter-in-law is beating me!” “Who is your daughter-in-law? Didn’t you just brag that Ethan is marrying the Chairman’s daughter? Old witch, I’ve already called the police. You kidnapped Lily. Get ready for prison!” She kept babbling: “You can’t lay eggs, you can’t make money, and you dare hit me! When Ethan divorces you, go beg on the streets!” I finally understood why the Goddess of Mercy has a thousand hands. Two hands weren’t enough to slap her. Suppressing my rage, I pulled Lily out of that hellhole. At that moment, I was almost glad she couldn’t hear. She didn’t have to listen to the filth. It took a week for Lily to recover. During that time, I thought a lot. Ethan, I planned to wait until Lily finished high school to divorce you. But I can’t wait anymore. I won’t let my daughter be hurt again. 4 The next day, I filed for divorce, submitting evidence of Ethan’s infidelity and asset transfers. After his assets were frozen, Ethan found me. “Jade, who gave you the guts to divorce me? Withdraw the suit immediately! Or I won’t pay a cent for our daughter’s tuition or living expenses!” If I were truly a penniless housewife, he would have me cornered. But the money my mom left me gave me the courage to say no. “Ethan, withdrawing is impossible! You aren’t fit to be a father. You have no right to fight me for custody!” “Your daughter is deaf and mute. Only you treat her like a treasure. Jade, you don’t even have a real job. Do you think the court will give you custody? Don’t blame me for not warning you—if I get custody, I won’t let her go to college!” “Of course, if you agree to leave with nothing, I might consider letting you have her!” Lily is a girl. Since birth, she was despised by him and his mother. Especially now that his mistress is pregnant with a boy, Ethan is desperate to divorce me. With bloodshot eyes, I pointed at his nose: “Ethan, was our daughter born deaf? What right do you have to look down on her?” If his mother hadn’t neglected her, Lily wouldn’t be deaf! Years later, instead of blaming his mother, he despised his daughter! He thought I would submit. But the next day, I paid Lily’s tuition and living expenses and brought her to live with me on weekends. The partner at the firm I joined was my old classmate, Kim. With her help, once I re-passed the CPA exam, I could become a full-time employee. Lily used to be bullied at school because she didn’t have a cochlear implant. This time, I advanced my salary, added it to my mom’s legacy, and bought one for her. Receiving the gift, my daughter bounced around the cramped apartment like a little rabbit. “Mom, if I can talk normally one day… I will make lots of money, buy you a big house, make you beautiful…” I wiped my eyes. “Okay, I’ll wait for Lily to grow up…” My daughter is my untouchable scale. No one touches her! Ethan, especially not you!

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For a year after we were married, I used a burner account to harass my ice-cold husband every single day. Is that the same tie you wore last week, darling? I fantasize about pulling it tight. The way your fingers look when you adjust your glasses during a lecture… so elegant. I want to take them in my mouth. Professor Green, I’m always watching you. I can’t bear to look away. His reply was always instantaneous: I have told you this behavior is disgusting. Have some self-respect. Until one day, while he was away on a business trip, I slipped into his hotel room. I was holding the shirt he’d just taken off, greedily inhaling the crisp, cold scent of cedarwood, when the door suddenly swung open. My husband blocked his colleague, who was standing behind him, from seeing inside. He shut the door, locked it, and let out a cold, low laugh. “My little psycho,” he murmured. “Did you have fun?” 1 It was eleven o’clock at night. The only light in the bedroom was the dim, yellow glow of a single bedside lamp. I was huddled under the covers, the cold light of my phone screen making my face look pale and ghostly. On my burner account, nicknamed “Puppy,” the chat window was still open from twenty minutes ago. I had sent him a candid photo. It was just a hand, the knuckles distinct, the fingers long and pale, holding a fountain pen as it made notes on a lesson plan. My caption read: If that hand wasn’t holding a pen, I bet it would feel amazing wrapped around my throat. The silence on his end stretched on. Just when I thought he wouldn’t reply, my phone buzzed. Sebastian Green: Are you some kind of sewer rat? Sebastian Green: Hiding in the shadows, spying on people. You’re disgusting. Staring at the cold, hard words, I felt no sadness. Instead, a shiver of pure, ecstatic pleasure ran down my spine. That was Sebastian. My husband. The youngest professor at King’swood University Law School, and a renowned expert in criminal psychology. To the outside world, he was the untouchable ideal, the very definition of asceticism. Only I knew how utterly sexy he was when he was angry. I buried my face in the pillow to muffle the twisted laugh bubbling in my throat as my fingers flew across the keyboard. I want you to curse me out all night long, Professor. The moment I hit send, a red exclamation mark appeared. He’d blocked me again. This was the fifth burner account I’d registered this month. No matter. I had backup SIM cards. The bedroom door creaked open. I quickly shoved my phone under the pillow and squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. The footsteps were light, carrying the scent of his aftershave and the clean, damp air from his shower. The other side of the mattress dipped. Sebastian lay down beside me. We had been married for a year, but the chasm between us in the bed was wide enough for two more people. “Clara.” His voice, cool and flat, cut through the darkness. My heart leaped into my throat. I feigned waking up, rolling over with a sleepy murmur. “Hm? What is it, darling?” “I’m going to Seacliff City tomorrow for an academic conference. I’ll be gone for three days.” “Oh, okay. Is your luggage packed? Do you need any help?” I propped myself up, the picture of a dutiful, doting wife. By the moonlight filtering through the window, I greedily traced the sharp lines of his profile. The straight bridge of his nose, his thin lips, and his eyes, which looked severe even when closed. “No.” Sebastian turned over, his back to me. “Just behave yourself while I’m gone.” “I will,” I replied obediently. “Goodnight, darling.” Lying back down, I stared at his back, my eyes wide open. Three days. If I couldn’t see him, couldn’t smell him for three days, I would go insane. My particular illness started in high school. I was a nobody, completely invisible. He was the school genius, worshiped by everyone. I collected his used scratch paper, his empty water bottles. I even found a wristband he’d dropped during a basketball game. This pathological obsession reached its peak when I found out our families had arranged for us to be married. After the wedding, he was rarely home, and when he was, his politeness was a wall between us. Because he was an expert in criminal psychology, I had to be meticulously careful to hide my true nature. If he ever found out, I wouldn’t just lose my position as Mrs. Green; he would have me committed as a dangerous deviant. But I couldn’t control it. Listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, I slowly reached a hand toward the edge of his pillow. A single strand of his dark hair lay there. I pinched it between my fingers, carefully closing my palm around it as if it were a priceless jewel. Tomorrow. Seacliff City. I was going too. 2 The moment Sebastian walked out the door, I booked a flight to Seacliff City. To avoid being discovered, I deliberately chose a later flight. I was dressed for anonymity. A black baseball cap, a black face mask, a baggy gray hoodie. I could disappear into any crowd. By the time I arrived at The Grand Seacliff Hotel, it was already three in the afternoon. The conference was being held in the second-floor ballroom. Without a room key, I couldn’t use the elevators, so I sat in the lobby, waiting. My luck turned when a group of staff members with event badges headed for the elevators. I pulled my cap down low and blended in with them. There was security at the ballroom entrance. I slipped down a side corridor to the fire escape, where a service door had been propped open, likely for ventilation. Once inside, I hid behind a thick, heavy curtain at the very back of the room. On stage, Sebastian was speaking. The spotlight bathed him in a warm glow. He wore a tailored navy suit that made him look as tall and unyielding as an oak tree, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He held a laser pointer, gesturing toward a case study on the large screen behind him. His voice, amplified by the microphone, filled the room—cool, steady, and magnetic. “For this particular type of stalker psychology, we typically classify it as…” He was analyzing psychopaths. And here I was, in the audience, watching him like a true psychopath. The secret thrill of it sent shivers through my entire body. I pulled out my burner phone, turned off the flash, and took a dozen pictures of him on stage. Each one focused on his face, his hands, the long line of his legs encased in suit trousers. I selected the clearest shot. With practiced ease, I sent a friend request from my newly registered sixth burner account. The message read: You’re captivating on stage, Professor Green. As expected, he didn’t accept. So I sent the picture through a direct message instead. Darling, your tie is a little crooked. I’m dying to go up there and straighten it for you. You look like such a deliciously corrupt gentleman up there. After sending the barrage of messages, I fixed my eyes on him. He was at a critical point in his lecture when the phone he’d placed on the lectern lit up. He glanced at it. In that instant, I saw the hand holding the laser pointer pause for half a second. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly before smoothing out again. He didn’t stop his lecture. His rhythm didn’t even falter. His composure was flawless. Undeterred, I sent another message: I’m watching you. Can you guess where I am? This time, I got a reaction. He adjusted his glasses, and his gaze suddenly lifted from his notes. It swept past the front rows, locking onto the back of the room. It lingered on the exact spot where I was hiding. I knew the curtains were thick, that he couldn’t possibly see me. But I felt as if I had been stripped bare. He stared at my corner for a full five seconds before casually looking away. “That concludes my presentation for today.” He closed his laptop. His voice was a full octave colder than before. I didn’t dare stay any longer. As the crowd began to move, I pulled my cap down and slipped out, hugging the wall. Just outside the ballroom, I overheard two female students talking. “Professor Green is so handsome. It’s a shame he married so young.” “I heard his wife is some boring socialite. She doesn’t deserve him at all.” I tugged at the edge of my mask and smiled without a sound. I didn’t leave the hotel. I couldn’t find Sebastian’s room number at the front desk, but I knew how to find him. As a special guest, he would be on the executive floor. I hid in a restroom in the executive lounge until I saw Sebastian walk by with a male assistant. Room 1608. I memorized the number, then went to the front desk and booked room 1609. Right next door. Once inside, I pressed my ear against the shared wall. The soundproofing was too good; I couldn’t hear a thing. But it didn’t matter. Just knowing he was sleeping only a few inches away was enough to make my blood sing with an excitement that would keep me awake all night. 3 Eight o’clock. I ordered room service and picked at my food. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Sebastian’s real number. Are you asleep? My hand jerked, nearly dropping the phone into my soup. I quickly replied: Not yet, darling. Are you done with work for the night? Sebastian Green: Just finished. Is everything okay at home? Me: Yep, everything’s fine! Just watching a movie. Sebastian Green: Good. Get some rest. I put the phone down, letting out a long breath. Half an hour later, I heard the door next door open, followed by the sound of several people entering. It sounded like colleagues or students coming to discuss something with him. This was my chance. They wouldn’t stay long. When they left, Sebastian might walk them to the elevator or go downstairs for a drink. That would be my window of opportunity. I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a master key card. I’d bought it on the dark web for a small fortune, specifically for situations like this. I had no idea if it would work on a high-end hotel lock, but I had to try. About forty minutes later, the door next door opened again. “Professor Green, we’ll confirm tomorrow’s schedule, then.” “Okay. Thank you for your hard work.” Sebastian’s voice. Then, the sound of a group walking toward the elevators. I cracked my own door open. Sebastian hadn’t gone back into his room. He was walking with them. It was a sign from the heavens. My heart hammered against my ribs. I grabbed the key card and slipped out of my room like a ghost. Standing in front of room 1608, my palm was slick with sweat. Beep. Dammit. A red light. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time with a bit more finesse, wiggling the card slightly. Beep. A green light flashed. The lock made a soft, satisfying click. I slipped inside. The door clicked shut behind me. I moved as one seamless motion. The room was dark, lit only by the neon glow from the city outside. The air was thick with that familiar, cold scent of cedarwood. His scent. I didn’t turn on the lights. Using the faint glow from the window, I felt my way through the room. His suitcase stood against the wall. His laptop and some papers were on the desk. The bathroom was still steamy; he must have showered recently. I walked to the bed. A white dress shirt was tossed carelessly across the covers. It was the one he’d worn during his lecture. The collar was unbuttoned, the cuffs rolled up. It was still warm from his body. I lunged for it, grabbing the shirt and burying my face in the fabric. I inhaled deeply. The scent filled my lungs, a balm to the gnawing emptiness, the craving, the ache. “Sebastian…” I whispered his name, rubbing my face against the soft cotton. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. I curled up on the bed, clutching his shirt, imagining he was lying beside me, his cold hands stroking my neck. My body grew hot, my breathing ragged and shallow. I was lost in my own world, completely consumed. And that’s when I heard it. A soft beep from the door. It swung open. 4 I froze, still kneeling on the bed, clutching the shirt. My mind was a complete blank. How could he be back so soon? Hadn’t he gone downstairs? I heard voices at the door. “Professor Green, you forgot this file…” A young woman’s voice. A student? A teaching assistant? “Ah. Thank you.” Sebastian’s voice. Right there. He stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking most of the light, and more importantly, blocking the view of the person behind him. If he moved even an inch, they would see everything. They would see his demure, respectable wife, sprawled on his bed like a degenerate, getting off on the scent of his discarded clothes. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. It was over. It was completely and utterly over. Sebastian took the file but didn’t close the door. He just stood there, a silhouette against the hallway light. I couldn’t see his expression. Time seemed to freeze. I could hear the frantic drumming of my own heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was going to explode. “Professor? Is something wrong?” the woman outside asked, her voice laced with confusion. “Is it not a good time to come in?” She started to peer around him. I squeezed my eyes shut in despair. “Yes, actually, it’s not,” Sebastian said suddenly, his voice terrifyingly calm. “I just remembered the room is a bit of a mess.” He took a step to the side, completely blocking the doorway. “I have the file now. You should go get some rest.” “Okay, goodnight, Professor.” Her footsteps receded down the hall. The world fell silent again. Click. The deadbolt slid into place. The sound was deafening in the quiet room. Sebastian didn’t turn on the lights. He walked toward me, one slow step at a time. His leather shoes were muffled by the thick carpet. I remained in my pathetic pose, my knuckles white as I gripped the shirt. I tried to let go, but my fingers were frozen stiff. He stopped at the edge of the bed. He loomed over me. In the darkness, his eyes seemed to glow. “Clara.” He said my name, his tone utterly unreadable. I lifted my head, my body trembling as tears streamed down my face. “I…” I wanted to explain, but my throat was too dry to make a sound. And what could I say? I was caught red-handed. Sebastian slowly shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it onto a nearby armchair. Then he leaned over me, planting his hands on either side of my body, trapping me between him and the mattress. The cedarwood scent was overwhelming now, suffocating me. He reached out and tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him. The pads of his fingers were cool and rough against my trembling lips. “So, the little psycho was you all along.” His voice was a low whisper, tinged with something that sounded dangerously like amusement. “When you sent those messages… were you imagining me doing this to you?” My whole body was shaking, the tears flowing faster now. His gaze dropped to the crumpled shirt in my arms. “You like my scent that much?” He leaned closer, his warm breath ghosting across my neck, raising a million tiny goosebumps. “My little psycho,” he whispered, nipping my earlobe. “Did you have fun?”

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When Rowan came to pick me up for the concert, he introduced me to the woman in the passenger seat. “Victoria, this is Elara. I’ve told you about her. You should think of her as a little sister.” Ah, so this was the one. The woman who had every socialite in the city waiting for me to make a fool of myself. She was wearing a cheap sheath dress, her delicate, pale face a mask of aloof pride. Still, she managed to force out the words, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I gave her a friendly nod. “Hello.” Then I reached past her and pulled open the passenger side door. “You’re in the wrong seat.” 01 The arrogance on Elara’s face lasted only a second before her eyes welled with tears. “Rowan…” “I asked her to sit here.” Rowan’s voice was deep and steady, laced with an authority that left no room for argument. “Elara gets carsick and she’s sensitive to the cold. It’s more comfortable for her up front.” I held my position, my hand still on the door, and met his gaze with a sweet smile. “Oh, carsickness, is it? In that case, maybe you should let her drive. I’ve heard the driver never gets carsick.” I turned my kindest expression to the woman. “Besides, the driver’s seat is still warm from your Rowan. You won’t be cold.” “Victoria, what nonsense are you talking?” I ignored the anger simmering in his voice, my eyes fixed on Elara. Her face was flushed, tears trembling on her lashes. Finally, with a stiff, proud posture, she exited the car. “Rowan, thank you for today,” she said, her voice dripping with martyrdom. “I don’t think I’ll go to the concert. Just because something is popular doesn’t mean it’s good.” “Music, like people, shouldn’t be judged by class or status. You don’t need a grand concert hall to hear true beauty. As long as I stay true to myself, that’s all that matters.” I raised an eyebrow. Over the years, I’d dealt with my fair share of women who tried to get close to Rowan. I’d seen the gold-diggers and the ones blinded by his looks. But I’d never encountered one like this. A delicate, self-pitying little flower convinced of her own tragic superiority. No wonder Rowan had been obsessed with her ever since he’d heard her playing violin on a street corner. He’d bought her a new instrument, sent her flowers, even funded her private lessons. And now, on our wedding anniversary, he was bringing her along. Rowan got out of the car, his hand catching her wrist as she turned to leave. “Elara, this is a rare opportunity for you. Don’t miss it.” “I’ll have her apologize to you…” My gaze drifted to their clasped hands. His wedding ring was gone, a faint, pale band of skin the only evidence it had ever been there. “That won’t be necessary. You shouldn’t force people to do things they don’t want to, Rowan.” She lifted her chin, her voice a study in noble suffering. “And a simple apology won’t erase the humiliation I’ve already endured.” The composure I had spent years cultivating threatened to crack. For a fleeting moment, my hand itched to slap that look off her face. I managed to restrain myself. I took a step toward the car, ready to take my rightful seat. And then I saw it. A dark, crimson stain, stark against the cream-colored leather of the passenger seat. The back of Elara’s dress was stained with blood. “Elara, you—” Rowan had clearly seen it too. His voice caught in his throat. In a swift, practiced motion, he stripped off his six-figure suit jacket and wrapped it around her waist. “I’m going to the convenience store. Wait here.” Their eyes met. A blush crept up Elara’s cheeks as she nodded. They moved with a seamless, practiced intimacy. I slammed my Hermès bag against the car door. The sound was a deafening bang. It was just like years ago, when I was chasing a then-penniless Rowan who was working in a bar. I had ordered ten champagne towers and then smashed every single one, just to make sure all the other women who were after him knew to back off. “So,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “This car is now filthy. How much are you going to pay for the damages?” It had been a long time since I’d been this angry. Even Rowan seemed taken aback. “Elara didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll pay for the cleaning.” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Cleaning? You think you can clean the stench out of this car? I want the entire interior replaced. Or better yet, just buy me a new one.” Elara’s face turned ashen. “Miss Vance, I may not have money, but I have my pride. There’s no need to be so insulting.” My smile was laced with poison. “And does your pride pay the bills? Did I insult you? Why don’t you take a good whiff yourself?” At my words, tears streamed down her face like broken pearls. Rowan shot me a frigid glare. “That’s enough.” “I will cover all the costs. This has nothing to do with Elara. Don’t poison something pure with your own malice.” It was the middle of summer, but a chill snaked its way up my spine. The smile on my face froze. Suddenly, the whole thing just felt so pointless. 02 I watched as Rowan hurried into the convenience store, expertly navigating the aisle of feminine hygiene products. Elara’s voice cut through the silence. “Miss Vance, you could never understand the connection Rowan and I share.” “We’re kindred spirits. He appreciates my music, and I understand his silent suffering. It has nothing to do with money or class.” She seemed immensely proud of this. “I’m not like you. I don’t have a nouveau riche father, but I have a sincere heart.” “He only married you back then because he had no other choice.” “If I had appeared in his life just a few years earlier, perhaps he wouldn’t be like this now—so polished and perfect on the outside, but a barren wasteland within.” Rowan’s soul, a barren wasteland? I met him when he was twenty, working four jobs just to survive. His father was a gambling addict who had left him with a mountain of debt, forcing him to drop out of college. That winter, he wore a threadbare black coat, so thin he was practically skeletal. Even his beautiful eyes were devoid of life. I didn’t understand the concept of a young man’s pride. All I knew was that I had everything he needed. So I pulled him out of the abyss. I forced him to accept my generosity. I forced him to look up, to see only me. Eventually, everyone in the city knew the story: Rowan Vance had been forced into marrying me. They all whispered about it. The poor, brilliant artist, they’d said, had no defense against the spoiled, flashy heiress. It wasn’t until he had been cultivated into a man so successful that everyone else had to crane their necks to look up at him that people started saying I was lucky. But no one knew that what I had invested in this relationship was far more than just luck. “He’s a man, not your property,” Elara continued, her voice a self-righteous drone in my ear. The old me would have slapped her twice for that. But as I saw Rowan rushing back towards us, and the woman who was clearly terrified but deliberately provoking me, I had a change of heart. “You’re right,” I said. “He is a man. My man.” “If you want to parade around with him and slap me in the face, you not only have to ask for my permission, but you also have to ask him if he’s truly willing to become a heartless monster for you.” My voice was pitched just loud enough for Rowan to hear as he approached. He frowned. “Victoria, there’s nothing going on between Elara and me. The rumors… they’re nothing to us, but for a single woman like Elara, they’re incredibly damaging. Don’t believe what people are saying.” Elara bit her lip, her eyes full of unspoken words. The sight should have brought me a sense of victory, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. “You should head to the concert first,” Rowan said to me. “I’ll get Elara settled, and then I’ll meet you there.” The woman leaned against him, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he scooped her into his arms and gently placed her back in the passenger seat. “If you think the car is dirty, just take a taxi. I’ll go with you to look at new cars tomorrow.” I was suddenly thrown back to that year when I was twenty. He was the same then. His cool, calm eyes would just look at me, never saying no. I had been overjoyed, watching his gray life fill with color because of me. He was never spoiled by my affection, never sycophantic. He just… allowed my “whims.” Just like now. I didn’t know if he had crossed a line. But he was allowing Elara to cross one. I stood silently on the sidewalk, watching the car pull away until it was out of sight. I couldn’t say a word. I went to the concert anyway. The tickets were a gift from a friend, and I felt I should at least make an appearance. The truth was, I’d never cared much for classical music. But Rowan loved it. He could stare at a painting I found incomprehensible for an entire afternoon. He could be moved to tears by a symphony that put me to sleep. It was only in the presence of this “high art” that he ever showed any real emotion. So when I received the tickets, I’d wanted to please him. I had imagined us there together, his arm around me, a moment of shared intimacy as he lost himself in the music. I never imagined that the seat next to me would remain empty for the entire performance. After listening distractedly, I had the bouquet I’d brought sent to one of the performers I knew, and then I left. When I got home, I saw his car parked in the driveway. A sense of dread washed over me. I pushed open the door. Rowan was sitting in the living room, looking perfectly calm. The jacket stained with Elara’s blood was tossed carelessly on the sofa. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms that were still damp. Something was wrong. “Why didn’t you take the car to be detailed?” Before Rowan could answer, a woman’s cry of surprise echoed from the master bedroom. 03 I froze. He strode towards the bedroom, his knock on the door laced with a strange restraint. “Elara? What’s wrong?” “Your wife’s clothes… they don’t quite fit. I was trying one on and I accidentally knocked over the wedding photo on your nightstand…” A surge of rage, white-hot and blinding, propelled me forward. I shoved the man out of my way and threw open the door, not caring that the woman inside was half-dressed. Crack. The sound of my hand connecting with her cheek echoed in the room. I had used all my strength. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her face, her eyes wide with shock. I surveyed the scene. Our wedding photo lay shattered on the floor. My clothes were strewn across the dressing room. The bathtub was half-filled with pinkish water. The air was thick with the scent of Rowan’s body wash and the faint, metallic smell of blood. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. The man behind me grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around Elara. “Victoria, have you lost your mind?” he roared. “She was just using the bathroom and borrowing some clothes! Is that any reason to have such a violent reaction?” He looked at me as if I were insane. But this was our bedroom. Our private sanctuary. The dressing room was filled with dresses I had bought to please him. The body wash was a matching scent I had picked out for us as a couple. “Apologize,” he commanded, his voice cold and hard as he shielded the woman in his arms. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I stumbled back a few steps. “Never.” We stared at each other, a silent battle of wills. Neither of us would back down. Finally, my vision blurred, and he let out a sigh. “You’ve been by my side for so many years. I thought you would have learned some compassion by now.” “Victoria, you are a profound disappointment to me.” His words hit me like a physical blow. My heart seized. A tear escaped and traced a path down my cheek. For him, I had abandoned the perfect life my parents had planned for me. I had learned to cook, to manage a household. I had given up my wild, carefree lifestyle and forced myself to cultivate a taste for his dry, sophisticated passions. The hardest thing I had ever done was to sand down my own personality, to reshape myself into the woman I thought he wanted. I had believed that, on some level, he must have been touched by my efforts. But in the end, all he had for me was disappointment. I refused to let myself crumble. I wiped my tears, went to the study, and retrieved a slightly yellowed document. I threw it on the floor in front of them. “Then let’s get a divorce.” The air grew heavy with silence. A small, humorless laugh escaped Rowan’s lips. “Put that away. You can use it again next time.” The mockery in his tone was like a needle to the heart. A choked laugh escaped from Elara. Her look of embarrassment was replaced by one of amusement. My fingernails dug into my palms. The last flicker of hope deep inside me was extinguished. He was right, in a way. He was the one who had prepared the divorce papers in the first place. Six months into our marriage, he had asked for a divorce. That day was the darkest of my life. I was a girl who had been spoiled her whole life, who knew nothing of the world’s cruelties. All I could think was, Why is the little tree I planted withering? I gave it enough water, enough sunlight, enough love. I had cried until I couldn’t breathe, begging and threatening him not to leave me. In the end, he had relented. After that, I gave him money, status, the best resources. I slowly learned to control my explosive emotions. The way he looked at me finally started to have some substance. But my own sense of security had eroded completely. So I had pulled out those papers, time and time again. At first, he would sigh and coax me. Later, he would just frown and tell me to stop making a scene. Until now. He probably thought I was still playing the same old game, using the threat of divorce to win his affection. I calmly twisted the ring off my finger and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “There won’t be a next time.” 04 Before I left, I called my family’s lawyer and instructed him to start the proceedings for asset division. I also sent a team to our house to itemize everything Elara had ruined and bill her for the full replacement cost. Once everything was arranged, I opened my group chat with my best friends. “The Crimson Room tonight. My treat. Who’s in?” The Crimson Room was the city’s most notorious playground for the rich and hedonistic. My message set off a firestorm. “What’s going on? Has the great Victoria Vance given up her role as the perfect wife?” “Doesn’t your husband hate it when you go to places like that?” “I’ve screenshotted this. If you bail on us tonight, I’m sending this straight to your stone-cold husband.” I typed out a calm reply. “We’re getting a divorce.” The group chat exploded again. After a few brief replies, I turned off my phone. Before heading to the club, I stopped at a salon. I had them do my makeup, bold and dramatic. I slipped into a black, backless dress and walked into our private room. My friends had thoughtfully ordered a lineup of handsome male hosts for me. I picked one who looked clean-cut and bright. After a few rounds of drinks, the man, who had initially been timid, started laying on the charm a little too thick. I was starting to get tired of it. I excused myself for some fresh air, taking my drink out to the balcony that overlooked the main hall. And there, in a secluded corner, I saw them. From my vantage point, Elara, dressed in a server’s uniform, was nestled perfectly in Rowan’s arms. “Elara, what do I have to do to convince you to quit this job? I’ve told you, this place is dangerous. A woman like you could get hurt.” Tears streamed down her face. “Yes, my job isn’t as stable as yours in your fancy skyscraper, but it pays for my life and my dreams. Besides, I still owe Miss Vance money. I don’t have a choice.” “I’ll give you the money. You don’t have to worry about any of that. All you have to do is…” Elara suddenly turned away from him, her shoulders shaking with pathetic sobs. “I don’t want your money. You know I befriended you for your soul, not your wallet…” I was marveling at her performance when a male voice spoke beside me. “Miss, don’t let that woman fool you.” I turned. It was the host from my room. He had a perfectly charming smile, but I was in no mood to appreciate it. “What do you mean?” “That woman is a pro. This is the third time this month I’ve seen that guy here with her. It’s the same story every time. She plays the poor, noble artist, all while dropping hints to make him feel sorry for her.” “I’ve seen her type a million times. They’re all just playing the long game.” He suddenly looked a little embarrassed. “Miss, I’m not like her. I genuinely like you…” I took a small sip of my drink. “And the guy?” He seemed encouraged. “He’s a fake. Look at him, dressed to the nines. Obviously loaded. But I’ve never seen him wear a ring on his left hand, even though you can see the mark. He’s playing the hero, trying to save the damsel in distress. It’s a classic rich guy move. Got a steak at home, but he still wants a hamburger on the side…” A small, wry smile touched my lips. I clinked my glass against his. “Go on, open a few more bottles. Put it on my tab.” I heard his delighted thanks from behind me as I took another sip of my drink. And then my eyes met Rowan’s. In the silent space between us, his expression darkened. “What are you doing here?” “Isn’t it obvious?” I replied lightly. “I’m relaxing.” “Come home with me.” I leaned my elbows on the glass railing and gestured with my chin towards the hallway behind him. “She’s getting away.” Elara’s scurrying figure disappeared around the corner. Rowan hesitated for a moment, then walked towards me. “I’ll take you home.” “No, thank you. I’m not short on people to take me home. And besides, I don’t particularly care for that home anymore.” Rowan’s voice turned sharp. “Is that man from earlier what you’re talking about? A man like that…” “What kind of man?” I asked, my tone dismissive. “If I remember correctly, weren’t you also that kind of man once?” I knew it was the one part of his past he could never accept. His face turned to stone. He turned and walked away without another glance in my direction. 05 I had no contact with Rowan after that night. The news of our impending divorce spread like wildfire. Because of the large sums and complex assets involved, the process was taking time. While I was busy indulging in a life of hedonism, Rowan was not idle. He had managed to secure Elara a spot as the solo violinist for the next major concert. When a friend offered me a ticket, I cleared my schedule and went, dressed to the nines. I wasn’t there to cause a scene. I just wanted to see how far he would go for her. Even though I had prepared myself, the sight of the concert hall filled with a sea of blue and pink flowers still took my breath away. “I heard Mr. Vance sent all these flowers for Miss Elara.” “How romantic! Eustomas for unchanging devotion, and white plum blossoms for silent protection… He’s the ultimate romantic!” “But isn’t he married? Is this an affair?” “You don’t know about his wife? She’s got a pretty face, but that’s it. A classless, nouveau riche woman who used underhanded tactics to trap him into marriage—” “Miss… Miss Vance! You’re here!” My gaze swept over the group of gossiping women. “It’s fine,” I said. “Please, continue.” Their faces turned beet red. “Miss Vance, please don’t misunderstand,” one of them stammered. “We were just repeating rumors…” I gave them a generous smile. “It’s alright. Rumors are often wrong. As for whether my tactics are underhanded… I suppose you’ll all find out soon enough.” I turned and walked away, not bothering to look at their pale, frightened faces. The concert went off without a hitch. I didn’t cause any trouble. I just sat there, and as Elara played, my eyes were fixed on Rowan in the audience. He sat perfectly straight, his hair impeccably styled. A delicate white rose was pinned to his lapel, seeming to bloom in time with the soaring music. Even from a distance, the look of utter adoration on his face was a knife to my heart. I sat in the darkness, forcing myself to confront the truth, over and over again. He had never loved me. After the final bow, Elara, clutching a massive bouquet, walked over to him. “Rowan, that last piece… I played it for you. Did you like it?” He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his voice impossibly soft. “I loved it.” That’s it, then, I thought. I wiped a tear from my eye and stood up to leave, only to be enveloped in a sudden, tight hug. “Victoria! I finally found you!”

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My family was so poor we could barely afford to eat, yet the lottery ticket I bought on a whim won five million dollars. My brother, eyes red with rage, lunged at me, snatching the ticket, ready to tear it apart. My father, who usually doted on me, held a kitchen knife to my throat. “If you don’t rip that thing up, I’ll chop off your hand!” Even my bedridden mother, waiting for money to save her life, dragged her weak body up, screaming in terror, “Daughter, you can’t cash it in!” To stop me, they tied me up in the basement and threw in a starving wolfdog. In the end, I was mauled to death by the beast. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I won the lottery. 1 My brother, Ethan, was holding two plain buns, smiling as he handed them to me. “Chloe, when we’re rich, I’ll take you to get your favorite beef noodles. By the way, did you win anything with that lottery ticket?” Hearing his concerned voice, I snapped back to reality. Seeing the familiar ticket in my hand, I confirmed I had been reborn. Reborn to the day I won the lottery. In my past life. I occasionally bought lottery tickets, and the whole family hoped I’d hit the jackpot one day so we could live a good life. We were poor. I had dropped out of school because we couldn’t afford tuition. Ethan was about to get married, but his girlfriend threatened to leave him if he didn’t buy a house soon. My dad, working as a security guard, accidentally damaged a luxury car and owed a huge debt. And Mom had uremia, waiting for money to extend her life. We struggled even to feed ourselves, counting every grain of rice. Yesterday, I dreamed of a set of numbers. The moment I woke up, I went to the store and bought a ticket. After the draw, I checked repeatedly and confirmed I won the first prize. Excitedly, I told Ethan, who was steaming buns in the kitchen. He took the ticket, looked closely, and his smile froze, replaced by terror. Without a word, he tried to tear it up. I snatched it back, desperate. “Ethan, once we cash this, we’ll have money! You can buy a house and get married, and Mom can get treated!” Ethan acted like he didn’t hear me, fighting me for the ticket like a madman. In the chaos, I bit his hand. He stumbled back in pain. Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot, face twisted, screaming at me, “Chloe, you are not allowed to cash it! Tear it up now!” His terrifying appearance left me frozen, trembling all over. Just then, Dad came back. Seeing Ethan cornering me, he slapped Ethan on the back of the head without a second thought. “Brat, how dare you bully your sister!” 2 Ethan pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice cracking. “She dreamed of lottery numbers and won five million dollars!” Hearing this, Dad’s anger instantly turned to horror. His eyes widened, and he rushed into the kitchen like a maniac, grabbing a kitchen knife and charging at me. “Tear up that winning ticket now, or I’ll hack you to death!” Just as the knife was about to come down, Mom rushed in and shielded me. “Are you crazy? You’re going to use a knife on our precious daughter?!” Dad sneered. “Chloe won the lottery.” “So what? Chloe has always been lucky, winning five or ten bucks all the time.” “It’s the first prize. Five million.” Mom, who was protecting me just a moment ago, turned pale as a ghost. She pushed me away violently, shaking her head frantically. “No, no!” Realizing the whole family was against me cashing the ticket, I waved my hands frantically to explain. “Dad, Mom, this money isn’t just for me! With this, Ethan can marry, Dad doesn’t need to hide from debt collectors, Mom can get surgery, and I can go back to college. It’s a lifeline from God!” But they ignored me, exchanging panicked glances. Then, Dad said, “We can’t let this girl go out anymore.” Mom’s face was dark. “I have a plan. Lock her in the basement with the wolfdog.” I stood there, numb, unable to believe my ears. I couldn’t understand why they changed so drastically after learning I won five million. We desperately needed money. This windfall should have been a huge blessing. Why did it turn out like this? Before I could figure it out, they dragged me toward the basement. I tried to run but Ethan grabbed me. I cried and begged them to let me go, even offering to give them the ticket if they didn’t trust me. 3 However, they turned a deaf ear to my pleas and shoved me into the dark, stinking basement. They gave me no food or water and threw in a starving wolfdog. Everyone knew I was terrified of dogs after being bitten by a stray as a child. Seeing the wolfdog, I collapsed in fear, pounding on the door, screaming for them to let me out. But no one answered. The dog lunged, tearing a chunk of flesh from my thigh. The smell of blood filled my nose, and I passed out from the pain. The next morning, my parents and brother came to see me. Mom smiled and asked, “Chloe, hungry? Mom steamed buns for you.” I sneered, unable to understand how she could pretend nothing happened. I screamed, “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” Mom’s smile vanished, replaced by coldness. Dad’s face darkened too, eyes full of disgust. He kicked me in the chest. “Ungrateful brat.” I was in so much pain I could barely breathe. Mom’s eyes swirled with malice, a chilling smile on her lips. “Since Chloe doesn’t want buns, let’s put more dogs in to play with her.” “These beasts are trained. They know how to ‘entertain’ disobedient girls.” Then, they released several wolfdogs. The animals surrounded me, tearing me apart. My arms were ripped off. In less than a day, I died in extreme agony. Even in death, I didn’t understand why they wanted to kill me after I won five million. The terror of my past life flooded back. I clutched the ticket tightly and took a deep breath. This time, I must find out the truth. This time, I didn’t tell Ethan I won. I thought, as long as Ethan doesn’t know, nothing will happen. But unexpectedly, Ethan smiled and asked, “Chloe, I saw you buy a ticket yesterday. Did you win?” My heart skipped a beat. I smiled. “No, winning isn’t that easy.” “You’re careless. Give me the ticket, I’ll check for you. Maybe you missed something.” “No need, I checked every number. Didn’t win. Don’t you trust me?” “No, just in case you won and missed it, our family would lose a chance. It doesn’t hurt for me to look.” 4 I deliberately put the ticket in my pocket. “You just don’t trust me. I won’t show you.” Thinking I was being playful, Ethan smiled and patted my head, shoving a bun into my hand. “Fine, fine. Hungry? Eat up.” I took the bun and walked out, saying casually, “Nice weather, I’m going out for some air.” I decided to leave the house to calm my nerves. But just as I turned the corner into the alley, my heart lurched. The ticket in my pocket was gone! My blood ran cold. I sprinted back. From a distance, I saw Ethan standing at the door, pale as a sheet. The ticket that should have been in my pocket was in his hand. He raised his hand to tear it. I rushed over, snatched it back, and ran. I heard him roar behind me, “Chloe, you can’t cash it!” Until I died in my last life, I never understood why my brother, who always doted on me, changed instantly after knowing I won. The malice in his eyes was something I had never seen. Ethan chased me desperately. I wasn’t as fit as him and was soon caught. I trembled, screaming, “Help! My brother is trying to kill me!” Neighbors came out to watch. Ethan hadn’t expected this. Seeing no escape, I knelt before him, crying, “Brother, we can have a good life now. Why tear up the ticket?” Ethan gritted his teeth, whispering, “Shut up, you brat!” He tried to drag me away, but a neighbor stepped in. Mr. Zhang from next door pulled him off me. “Why are you hitting your sister?” Other neighbors chimed in. “We heard you shout about winning the lottery. That’s great news, why hit her?” “Even if she’s your sister, you can’t hit her! That’s illegal! Do it again and we’ll call the cops.” Ethan breathed heavily, veins popping, glaring at me viciously. But surrounded by people, he could do nothing. Suddenly, he smiled at something behind me. I turned confusedly and saw Dad walking over. Seeing the crowd around us, Dad frowned. He knew something was up.

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My mother killed herself over five dollars. All because she used five dollars to buy me a notebook for school. My father beat her bloody in front of hundreds of people at the farmers’ market. Never mind that the family’s main income came from my mother waking up before dawn to wholesale vegetables at that very market. In the end, my mother borrowed five dollars from Mrs. Song at the next stall to buy me the notebook. That night, my mother hanged herself. My father said I drove her to suicide. “Just three notebooks,” he said. “The teacher wouldn’t have killed you for not doing homework.” He dumped me at my uncle’s house and disappeared for twenty-three years. After I made my fortune, ignoring my uncle’s curses, I immediately brought him home—penniless and scammed by a woman—to live with me. 1 My father sat on my sofa, legs crossed, sipping the tea I just bought. “At least you have a conscience,” he said. “You know to bring me back to enjoy life now that you’re rich.” “Clear out the master bedroom for me. And give me a $1,500 monthly allowance.” “My stomach is bad, I need small, frequent meals. Make sure you cook me a nutritious meal every four hours.” “If I bring a girlfriend home, go stay at a hotel. Don’t disturb our quality time.” I looked at my biological father, whom I hadn’t seen in twenty-three years, with a cold, fake smile. The wall clock ticked to 6:30. My uncle should be home from work soon. The door creaked open. As soon as my uncle walked in and saw my father, he grabbed a shoe from the rack and hurled it at him. “Who let you in?” “You drove my sister to suicide! You took her hard-earned money and ran off with some woman for twenty-three years! Now that Sophie is rich, you come crawling back?” “Have you no shame?” My father’s obese body dodged clumsily. The shoe landed squarely on his well-maintained face. I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. “My daughter is filial. She brought me here to enjoy life. Mind your own business.” My uncle was heartbroken, his lips trembling with rage. “Sophie, I’m so disappointed in you. Have you forgotten how your mother died?” Of course I haven’t forgotten. I wouldn’t dare. Countless sleepless nights, I forced myself to recall every detail of that day. The clearer the memory, the stronger the hatred. I was seven. It was the first day of school, and I needed notebooks. I cried and begged him for a long time. He had played mahjong all night and lost. He didn’t give me money; he gave me a slap. I ran crying to the market to find my mother. My mother wholesaled vegetables. My father said labor was too expensive, so he made her do it all herself. That morning, she unloaded ten tons of cabbage alone. I urged her anxiously, “Mom, hurry, it’s eight o’clock. I’m going to be late.” My father came every morning to collect the money, checking every cent. If a penny was missing, my mother got slapped. My mother bit her cracked lips and bravely took out five dollars for me. “Study hard. Don’t be useless like Mom, oppressed by a man your whole life.” The next second, a fist like a sandbag smashed into her head. “Bitch! Who said you could touch my money?” My mother was pressed into a pile of rotting vegetable leaves, beaten until blood flowed. I threw the money at him, crying and screaming that I didn’t want the notebook anymore, begging him to stop. But the more I cried, the more excited he got. “Wastrel! Steal five today, you’ll steal five hundred tomorrow. I’ll beat you into submission once and for all.” Like every time before, my mother curled up, holding her head, silent. Letting him beat her. Because begging only made it hurt more. My father took the five dollars and all the earnings from that morning. My mother crawled up, wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve, and borrowed five dollars from Mrs. Song, who sold apples at the next stall, to buy me the notebook. She took a half-melted fruit candy from her pocket and stuffed it into my mouth. “Go to school. Mom can’t pay back this five dollars. You’ll have to pay it back yourself in the future!” Those were the last words she ever said to me. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand them that day. When I came home from school, my mother had hanged herself in the bathroom. My father cursed at home all day. “Damn it! Daring to kill herself in my house! My hard-earned house is now a murder scene, how can I sell it!” “So unlucky. I knew I shouldn’t have married her.” He pulled my thin hair and cursed me repeatedly. “Money-loser! You drove your mother to death. Buying notebooks… would you die if you didn’t write?” As soon as my mother was buried, he sent me to my uncle’s house. I heard that the afternoon I arrived at my uncle’s, he brought another woman home and bought her a $30,000 car. From then on, it was like he died in my world. He never visited, never sent a cent. 2 “Uncle, he’s my biological father. He’s old, sick, useless. If I don’t take care of him, who will?” My father leaned back on the sofa smugly. “No matter how much effort you spent raising her, she’s still my seed. She’s close to me.” “This is my daughter’s house. Get out!” After I bought this 3,000-square-foot villa, I asked my uncle’s family to move in with me. My aunt and cousin hadn’t gotten off work yet. My uncle’s face turned red with anger. “Sophie, is this what you want?” I quickly helped my uncle sit down, poured him tea, and massaged his back. “Uncle, you raised me. How could I chase you away?” “We’ll all be one family from now on. How nice to live together happily!” My father and uncle shouted in unison: “No!” My gaze towards my father turned cold. “If you don’t agree, I’ll send you back to your bridge.” My father immediately shut up. When I found him, he was fighting with other homeless people for a spot under a bridge. I whispered in my uncle’s ear, “Uncle, this house is so big. It’s perfect to have him clean it.” “With my cousin here to supervise, what trouble can he cause?” My uncle’s eyes lit up. He said no more. I took my father to the storage room on the first floor. It was full of pungent chemicals. I work in R&D; having chemicals at home is normal. “You’ll live here from now on.” “My house doesn’t support idlers. After we go to work, you must clean the house inside and out every day. No slacking.” “My cousin will check when he comes back. If it’s not clean, no food for you.” My father instantly exploded. “What? Didn’t you bring me back to enjoy life?” I looked at him innocently. “I’m letting you live in a big villa. Isn’t that enjoying life?” My father pointed at the massive house with his loud voice. “Cleaning a 3,000-square-foot villa every day? My body can’t take it.” My lips curled into a sneer. “When I was little, didn’t you make Mom clean our house and Grandma’s house every day? If it wasn’t clean, she couldn’t eat.” “What? Now you can’t do it?” “If you can’t do it, get out. Plenty of people would be willing.” Seeing I was angry, he said meekly, “Then how much will you pay me a month?” “It’s your own home. What salary do you need, right, Dad?” My father couldn’t say a word. He never expected the slap he swung years ago would land on his own face. 3 When my cousin and aunt came home, they both walked straight in with their shoes on. I coughed lightly. My father immediately grabbed a broom and mop, following behind them to clean the floor. At dinner, my father was the first to sit at the table, taking the main seat. I pointed at him. “Go wait in the kitchen. Eat after we’re done. And remember to wash all the dishes.” My father’s hand holding the chopsticks froze in mid-air. He looked at the nanny, Mrs. Wang. “Why can she eat at the table and I can’t?” My cousin grabbed him and threw him aside. “I hired her. She gets paid.” “You’re different. You don’t earn money. You’re freeloading. You can’t eat at the table.” “Isn’t that the rule you set?” Indeed, that was the rule he set for my mother back then. The table was silent. Seeing no one paid him any attention, my father went to the kitchen alone. At 1 AM, I woke my father up. He looked at me, eyes barely open. “What are you doing in the middle of the night?” I threw a set of durable, dirty work clothes at him. “It’s not early. It’s 1 AM.” “I have a stall at the market wholesaling vegetables. Go help.” “You have ten minutes to wash up. Any later and the business will go to others.” My father finally couldn’t take it anymore and cursed at me. “Sophie, are you sick? You’re treating me like your mother!” “Am I the same as your mother?” “I’m a man, the pillar of the family. Your mother, as a woman, was supposed to do that work.” He couldn’t handle it already? This was just the beginning. “What’s so great about being a man? Just a few extra ounces of meat in your pants.” “You played cards, drank, and slept with women all day.” “Why did my mom have to work so hard selling vegetables, give you all the money, and get beaten by you?” My father screamed with his rasping voice, “Because I’m a man! I’m the head of the household! She had to serve me unconditionally!” “When you get married, it’ll be the same. Even if you’re a tiger now, you’ll have to kneel in your husband’s house.” I laughed. I haven’t met anyone who could make me kneel. I turned and called my cousin. “Bro, kick him out.” My father instantly backed down. “I don’t want to sleep under the bridge. I’ll go work right now.” I warned him, “After work, remember to come back and clean the house inside and out. If it’s not clean, no food.” I followed him and watched him unload the truck alone. Ten tons of cabbage. He hadn’t even unloaded a third before he was squatting by the road, crying and holding his waist. “Sophie, this isn’t work for humans. If I keep going, my back will break.” I urged him, “Don’t be lazy. It’s just ten tons of cabbage. How could my mom, a woman, do it, but you, a big man, can’t?” Mrs. Song deliberately said, “When you bullied your wife back then, you didn’t expect this day, did you?” “People need to build good karma.” My father cried for a while, took off his jacket, and threw it on the ground. “I quit! Whoever wants to do it can do it.” After my father left, the stall owner laughed and said to me, “Next time you have free labor like this, send them over. Slow, but free!” My father walked a few meters, then turned back. “Sophie, you want revenge for your mother, right? Then no one will have a good life.” “I’ll drive you to death just like I drove your mother to death.” I was waiting for him to explode! People make mistakes more easily when they are impulsive. Three months later, I was working at the company when my uncle called. “Sophie, come home quick! Your dad has caused a huge disaster!” 4 I rushed home. A crowd was gathered at my door. I knew them all. They were suppliers and clients of my company. They held IOUs in their hands. As soon as they saw me, they surrounded me. My biggest supplier, Manager Zhao, questioned me first. “Ms. Tong, your father took $1.5 million worth of goods from our company in your name. He said he’d pay in a month. It’s been three months.” “Look, settle the bill!” My biggest client, Mr. Tang, showed me a thick stack of contracts. “Your father took a team and accepted my order in your name at one-third below market price. It’s a month overdue, and he can’t deliver. What do we do?” I looked at their IOUs and contracts one by one. In total, my father had scammed about $12 million. “You believed him just because he said he’s my dad?” “Coming to my house to demand payment… where’s the shrewdness you usually have when bargaining with me?” They looked at each other. “He has your contact info, photos with you, and your assistant was with him. We believed him.” No wonder Assistant Huang was always asking for leave recently. He was helping my father run scams. Manager Zhao got anxious. “Ms. Tong, you aren’t going to ignore this, are you? He’s your dad.” I calmly explained, “You may not know my personal situation.” “My father abandoned me when I was seven. He never cared for me in twenty-three years. I have zero relationship with him.” “His personal actions have nothing to do with me.” “I advise you to call the police immediately. The sooner you report it, the better chance you have of recovering some losses.” An old man with nothing to his name—if he spent all the money, where would they get it back? Mr. Tang, who worked with my company, always prepaid 50%. He lost the most. “Sophie Tong, even if you have a bad relationship with your dad and ignore him, are you going to ignore your company?” “Do you want to do business with me in the future?”

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My 15-year-old niece wanted to kill my five-year-old son. I was reborn, with all my memories, just two hours before she did it. Instead of stopping her, I set a trap on the path she was bound to take. I thought it was just jealousy. Until I found out the “online friend” who coached her was my own uncle, the one after my family’s inheritance. I had to laugh. Turns out, this was a feast where my whole family planned to murder me. Then they can’t blame me for flipping the table. 1 My vision was black. My head felt like it was filled with wet cement. I could hear someone crying. It was my wife, Lina. Her voice was torn to shreds, crying out our son’s name over and over. “Benny… Oh, my Benny…” I forced my eyes open. The ceiling light was blinding. On the floor, there was a pool of blood. It wasn’t large, but the crimson was seared into my eyes. My older brother, Frank, was crouched there, holding my niece, Abby. She was trembling violently, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. “I didn’t mean to… Uncle Leo, I swear I didn’t mean to… He kept trying to reach for the window, and I… I couldn’t hold him back…” Lina lunged at her, grabbing a fistful of Abby’s hair. “You’re lying! Benny is terrified of heights! Why would he go near the window? It was you! You pushed him!” Frank shoved Lina away. She stumbled backward, her head cracking against the corner of the coffee table. She didn’t cry out. She just sat there, stunned, her eyes darting from my brother to Abby. Then I saw my son. Benny. He was lying on the floor, his small body covered by my jacket. Just yesterday, he was begging me to take him to the amusement park this weekend. I’d promised him I would. I got to my feet. I didn’t look at anyone. I walked over and pulled back the jacket. Benny’s face was pale, a gash on his forehead no longer bleeding. I touched his cheek. It was cold. As cold as our apartment in the winter when the heat was out. Frank came over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Leo, I’m so sorry. But it’s… it’s done. What else can we do? Abby… she’s just a kid. She didn’t do it on purpose.” I turned and stared at him. I said nothing. “Don’t look at me like that,” Frank took a step back. “We’ll take responsibility for this. We’ll compensate you. Hell, we’ll support you for the rest of your lives.” Support you for the rest of your lives. The words echoed in my skull. I looked at my brother, then at Abby cowering behind him. A laugh bubbled up from my chest. It grew louder and louder, a raw, shaking sound that convulsed my entire body. Still laughing, I walked into the kitchen and came back with the meat cleaver. I’d just bought it. It was razor sharp. I’d tested it on a pork bone; it split it clean in two. “Leo! What are you doing?!” Lina screamed. “Frank,” I said, walking toward him, the cleaver held loosely at my side. “You say your daughter is a child. What about my son? He was five. Wasn’t he a child?” Frank pushed Abby behind him, his face ashen. “Are you crazy?! Put the cleaver down! You touch my daughter and I’ll kill you!” I ignored him, circling around to face Abby. She was so terrified she collapsed, a dark stain spreading across her pants. “Uncle Leo, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Please don’t kill me…” I crouched down, tapping her cheek with the flat of the blade. Her skin was icy, slick with tears. “You sorry now?” I asked softly. She nodded frantically, like a bobblehead. “Too late.” I raised the cleaver. And then, a crushing weight slammed into my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My vision started to tunnel. The cleaver felt impossibly heavy. As I fell, the last thing I saw was Lina rushing to catch me. Her face and my son Benny’s face blurred together. So pale. My whole damn life. Ruined. Shit. In the darkness, a sound. Whirrrrr… The sound of a fan. I struggled to open my eyes. Blinding sunlight squeezed through a gap in the curtains, painting a bright stripe across the wall. Dust motes danced in the beam. I sat up. I looked at my hands. No blood. I touched my chest. No wound. Just a strong, steady heartbeat. I looked around. This was my bedroom. Lina wasn’t here. On the nightstand, my old phone showed the time. June 15, 2024. 2:30 PM. I froze. I remembered it perfectly. Benny’s accident happened on June 15, 2024. Around five in the afternoon. I was back. I leaped out of bed and ran barefoot into the living room. Lina was on the sofa, folding laundry. A cartoon was playing on the TV. And there, on the rug, was my son. Benny. He was building a crooked castle with his blocks, humming a little song to himself. “Benny,” I croaked. He looked up, saw me, and broke into a grin, showing off a gappy, five-year-old smile. “Daddy, you’re awake! Look at my castle!” I crossed the room in two strides and pulled him into a hug. I held him so tight he could barely breathe. “Daddy, you’re hurting me,” he squirmed. I loosened my grip, just looking at him. He was here. He was alive and perfect. His face was warm, his body soft. I ran my hand through his fluffy hair. “Leo? What’s wrong?” Lina stood up and came over. “Did you have a nightmare? You’re soaked in sweat.” I looked at my wife. She was fine. No breakdown, no hollow eyes. Just a look of mild concern. I took a deep breath. The air smelled of sunshine and laundry detergent. It was okay. There was still time. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice thick. “Just… a little hungry.” The words almost came out as a sob. I swallowed it down. I glanced at the wall clock. The hands pointed to three. Two hours. In two hours, my niece, Abby, would come over. And everything would happen all over again. Not this time. This time, I wouldn’t let her succeed. I looked at my son’s sweet face. Benny, I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you this time. No one will touch you. 2 I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water, downing it in one gulp. The icy liquid shocked my system, clearing my head a little. Leaning against the doorframe, I watched Lina and Benny in the living room. She was still folding clothes, occasionally glancing at Benny with a smile. He had knocked over his block castle and was starting again. It was all so real. So normal. As normal as any other afternoon in my previous life. In that life, I was a classic screw-up. I worked a dead-end factory job for a paycheck that barely covered the bills. I’d come home and either waste hours on my phone or go out drinking with my buddies. When Lina told me I was going nowhere, I’d just fight with her. My brother, Frank, ran a small business and made more money, and while I was jealous, I still sucked up to him. I always thought that was it. That was my life. Until Benny was gone. Only then did I realize that I had failed at the most basic level. I hadn’t protected my son. I hadn’t protected my wife. I was a failure. A complete and utter failure. But not anymore. I was back. I wasn’t that pathetic loser anymore. The cement in my head had been shattered, and what was buried inside wasn’t a soft heart, but a blade tempered in fire. “Daddy, Daddy,” Benny ran over and tugged on my hand. “Come play with me.” I knelt down. “What do you want to play?” “Superheroes and monsters!” “You got it,” I said. I let him climb onto my shoulders and galloped around the living room, making sound effects. “Kapow! Wham! I’m Captain Invincible! I’m getting the monster!” Benny shrieked with laughter, waving his arms. Lina watched us, smiling. “You’re a grown man, acting like a little kid.” I didn’t answer, just kept running. I could feel Benny’s weight on my shoulders, so small, so light. But I would carry that weight with my life. After a few minutes, I set him down. I looked at him, my expression serious. “Benny, listen to me. From now on, no matter who asks you, you do not go near the window. Okay?” He blinked, confused. “Why not?” “Because… because there’s a monster by the window, and it snatches little boys who don’t listen.” I pinched his cheek gently. “Daddy is a superhero, and I’ll protect you. But you have to listen to me.” “Okay!” Benny nodded vigorously. “I’ll listen to Daddy! I won’t go near the window!” Lina came over, stroking Benny’s hair, then mine. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting so strange.” What could I say? That I’d been reborn? That in two hours our son was going to fall from our balcony? I couldn’t. They’d think I was insane. “It’s nothing,” I forced a smile. “Just messing with him.” I stood up and walked to the balcony. We lived on the twelfth floor. The balcony was open, with a large sliding window that overlooked the community lawn. Last time, this is where Benny fell. I slid the window open and looked down. A few kids were on the playground below. A hot breeze blew in. I inspected the window latch. It was a simple pin lock. A five-year-old couldn’t possibly open it. Unless… someone had loosened it beforehand. I jiggled the pin. It was tight. In my last life, I never noticed this detail. I was so consumed by grief that I just accepted Abby’s pathetic excuse that she “couldn’t hold him back.” Thinking about it now, a fifteen-year-old girl, no matter how weak, could easily hold back a five-year-old boy. Unless she never tried to hold him back at all. Or rather, she wanted him to fall. Jealousy. The word surfaced in my mind. Abby was jealous of Benny. Jealous of the attention he got from my parents, jealous that he had a father who, despite being a loser, still loved him. And her? Her parents, Frank and his wife Karen, were always busy with their business. They gave her money, but never their time. She acted sweet and obedient, but inside, she was twisted. I slid the window shut and locked the pin firmly. Then, I went to the door and put on my shoes. “Where are you going?” Lina asked. “Out to buy some cigarettes,” I said. I couldn’t just wait here. I needed a plan. A plan to catch Abby and whoever was behind her. I couldn’t just rush in with a cleaver and get myself killed like last time. That was stupid. I was going to make them pay the most painful price for what they did. I was going to make them wish they were dead. I went to the corner store and bought a pack of smokes. I lit one, but didn’t smoke it, just held it between my fingers, watching the ember glow. I needed tools. And I needed a witness. No, I didn’t need a witness. I needed everyone to see with their own eyes what kind of monster my niece, Abby, really was. I pulled out my phone and found a name in my contacts: “Rick.” Rick was the security tech at the factory. I’d done him a favor once; he owed me. I dialed his number. “Hey, Rick? It’s Leo.” “Oh, hey Leo. What’s up?” “I need a favor. You got any of those tiny cameras? Spy cams. The smaller the better, something I can stream to my phone.” There was a pause. “Leo, what are you getting into?” “Don’t ask. It’s an emergency. Can you get them or not?” “…I mean, yeah, I’ve got a few old ones at my place. What for?” “Just bring them to me. Meet me downstairs from my apartment. I’ll explain later.” “Alright,” Rick sighed. “I’ll be there in thirty.” I hung up and ground the cigarette into the pavement with the toe of my shoe. Abby. Frank. Last time, you destroyed everything I had. This time, it’s my turn. 3 Rick gave me three cameras, each smaller than my pinky nail. He even helped me install the app on my phone and showed me how to use it. “Leo, be careful with this stuff. You can get in serious trouble for using it illegally,” Rick warned. “I know what I’m doing.” I clapped his shoulder. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.” Instead of going home, I walked over to my brother’s building. We lived in the same complex, just different towers. He was on the fifth floor, apartment 502. I was in 1202. His apartment was empty. I knew at this time of day, Frank and Karen would be at their store. I opened the app Rick gave me. The connection was clear. I used a spare key to the main building door—my mom had given it to me years ago in case they ever got locked out. I’d never used it before. Today, it came in handy. I went up to the fifth floor, made sure the hallway was empty, and slid a thin piece of plastic into the gap of his front door. It was a trick I’d learned from a locksmith once. The lock clicked open. I slipped inside, closing the door softly behind me. My brother’s place was huge, way nicer than my dump. The air smelled of my sister-in-law Karen’s expensive perfume. I had no time to admire their decor. I had one target: the living room balcony. Just like mine, their balcony window was unenclosed. It faced my building directly. From here, you had a crystal-clear view of my apartment’s balcony. This was the spot. I took out one camera, checked the angle, and stuck it in a hidden corner of the curtain rod. It captured their entire balcony and, in the distance, mine. I placed a second camera under the living room sofa, angled to see the front door and most of the main area. The third one, I kept. Once everything was set, I did a quick sweep to make sure I hadn’t left any trace of my visit. I let myself out, the door clicking shut behind me. Back at my apartment, Lina was starting dinner. Benny was still playing with his blocks. “You’re back,” she said without looking up. “Yeah.” I walked over, scooped Benny up, and kissed his cheek. “Hey buddy, want some Coke?” “Yeah!” his eyes lit up. “No way,” Lina immediately shot it down. “Dinner’s almost ready. Soda is bad for his teeth.” “It’s fine, just a little bit.” I got a can from the fridge and poured a small amount into a cup for Benny. Then I popped open my own can and chugged half of it. The cold, sweet liquid burned down my throat. My adrenaline was pumping. I was waiting. Waiting for my dear niece, Abby, to make her entrance. The minutes ticked by. The wall clock’s hands moved to four-thirty. My heart began to pound. Just then, the doorbell rang. Ding-dong. Lina wiped her hands and went to the door. When she opened it, Abby was standing there, a bright smile on her face, an apple in her hand. “Hi, Aunt Lina. Hi, Uncle Leo,” she chirped sweetly. “Abby, what a nice surprise,” Lina said happily, letting her in. “Come on in. What brings you here today?” “Mom and Dad weren’t busy at the store, so I came home early. I was thinking about Benny and wanted to see him,” Abby said, slipping off her shoes. Her eyes were already fixed on Benny and his cup of Coke. “Benny, look who’s here,” Lina called. Benny glanced at her but didn’t seem too excited. He just went back to sipping his drink. At this exact time in my last life, I was still at the factory. Lina was home alone. Abby came over, charmed Lina, and then lured Benny out onto the balcony. I watched Abby now. She wore a white dress, her hair in a ponytail. She looked so pure, so harmless. She walked toward Benny, reaching out to pat his head. “Don’t touch him,” I said. My voice was cold. Abby’s hand froze in mid-air. She looked at me, a flicker of confusion and annoyance in her eyes. “Uncle Leo…” “He’s drinking Coke. You’ll make him spill.” I stood up and positioned myself between her and my son. The atmosphere turned awkward. Lina looked at me, puzzled. She came over and touched my arm. “Leo, what is wrong with you today? Why are you talking to Abby like that?” I ignored her. I stared at Abby, and she stared back. Her eyes weren’t so innocent anymore. In those clear depths, I saw a flicker of the same cold, calculating assessment that was in my own. She was sizing me up. Good. The game was on. 4 “Uncle Leo, are you mad at me?” Abby’s lower lip began to tremble, her eyes welling up. “I already said I was sorry about breaking your model last week.” I had to smile. Last time, she had broken a complex spaceship model I’d spent months building. I’d been furious, but I bit my tongue to keep the peace with my brother. Now she was using it as an excuse, implying that my coldness today was just me holding a grudge.

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I returned home early, wanting to surprise my sister. But when I arrived, I couldn’t find her anywhere. By chance, I saw a corner of her dress peeking out from a tightly closed dog cage near the garden gate. I opened the cage and saw my sister’s tiny body curled up in a wooden box barely a square meter in size. I was shocked. “Why are you sleeping here? Come out, quick. I brought your favorite milk cakes.” My sister shook her head repeatedly. “No, no, no. Milk cakes are for masters. Dogs don’t deserve them. Dogs can only eat dog food.” My stepmother’s voice came from behind me. “Mia said studying was too hard, and being a dog was more comfortable. She wanted to be a dog herself, insisted on living in the doghouse.” I turned around and saw that my stepmother was at least eight months pregnant. And the family seal, symbolizing power, which was split between my sister and me, was hanging around her neck. Seeing me stare at the seal, my stepmother rubbed her belly triumphantly. “The doctor said I’m having a boy, so not only do I get Mia’s seal, but you have to hand yours over too.” I smiled cryptically. She probably didn’t know that my father had married into my family, and he had lost his fertility the year my sister was born. 1 The second young miss of the Sterling family, who should have been living a life of luxury, was now chained in the yard like a dog. Looking at the iron chain around my sister’s neck, my heart ached as if it were being twisted. No wonder my sister hadn’t contacted me in the three years I was abroad. Whenever I asked my father, he brushed me off, saying her studies were heavy. My sister’s room had long been occupied by someone else, and the villa’s furnishings were completely new, showing no trace of what it looked like when my mother was alive. I pulled my sister out of the dog cage and patted the dust off her. The dress she was wearing was the one I gave her three years ago, now tattered and barely covering her body. I took off my coat and draped it over her. “Sophia Zhao, you dare treat the second miss of the Sterling family like this? Do you have a death wish?” “How dare you speak to your mother like that!” My father appeared behind Sophia with a group of strangers, their eyes full of malice as they sized me up. “My mother died long ago. Who does she think she is?” “Scarlett! Sophia is my wife, your mother, and the mistress of this house! Apologize to her immediately, or I won’t recognize you as my daughter!” “A climbing nanny from the countryside, worthy of being my mother? And you, Liam Song, seem to have forgotten whose family name this house bears!” My mother was the 75th generation heir of the Azure Dragon Society, commanding respect in both the light and dark worlds, holding the Azure Dragon Seal that could command eight thousand branches across Asia. Such a favored daughter of heaven somehow fell for a gold-digger like my father. To be with him, she threatened suicide, finally getting my grandfather to agree to let my father marry into the family. My sister and I took my mother’s surname and called our maternal grandfather “Grandpa.” My mother split her Azure Dragon Seal in two, giving half to me and half to my sister, instructing us never to use it unless absolutely necessary. Later, my mother fell ill and suddenly passed away. My father said my young sister couldn’t be without care, so he brought his childhood sweetheart from his hometown. “I agreed to let Sophia Zhao in as a nanny, not as the mistress of the Sterling family!” Liam Song raised his hand and slapped me. “I make the rules in this house now! If you’re not happy, get out!” I covered my burning face. “Don’t forget, you’re living in a villa my mother bought before marriage. It’s Sterling property. If anyone’s getting out, it’s you and her!” “I’ve given you too much face!” Liam raised his hand to hit me again, but Sophia stopped him with fake concern. “Alright, she’s just a child and doesn’t know better. I won’t hold it against her.” “Scarlett, dear, it’s really not that I mistreat your sister. She herself finds studying tiring and wants to live like a dog.” “I certainly didn’t agree to let her live in a doghouse. She threw tantrums several times because of this.” “She went on a hunger strike when I refused. I had no choice but to let her have her way.” “If you don’t believe me, ask your father, or let Mia say it herself.” Liam snorted. “It’s Mia herself who’s no good, willing to be a dog just to skip school. Such a worthless child doesn’t deserve to be my daughter!” 2 My sister tugged at my sleeve, her voice hoarse. “Sister, I don’t like school. I like being a dog, I like living in the doghouse.” “I am a puppy, woof, woof.” “You are not a dog, you are a human!” I scanned the surroundings and realized there wasn’t a single old staff member in the yard. The original butler, nanny, and bodyguards had all been replaced by strangers, staring at me like tigers eyeing their prey. “I don’t care about the past, but since I’m back, my sister will not be a dog for you people here!” Sophia smiled falsely. “Scarlett, you handle Mia from now on. We can’t manage her.” She picked up a ball at her feet and threw it casually. My sister immediately dropped to all fours, running to fetch the ball. She picked it up with her mouth and ran back to Sophia. When Sophia reached out, she placed the ball in her hand. Sophia threw the ball again, and my sister was about to fetch it, but I pulled her up. “Mia! You are a human, not a dog. You walk on two legs and use your hands! Promise me, no more acting like a dog, okay?” My sister shook her head repeatedly. “No, I’m a puppy, I like being a puppy.” Sophia laughed loudly, shaking the ball in her hand. “Want to play more?” My sister immediately stuck out her tongue, panting happily. “Yes! Yes!” “Enough!” I turned my gaze to Liam. “Mom told you to take good care of Mia on her deathbed, and this is how you do it!” Liam looked indifferent. “She’s worthless herself, I can’t help it.” “Get the key and unlock the chain around her neck!” No one moved. I glared at the servants around me. “Are you all deaf!” “Go get the key.” Only when Sophia spoke did someone move. It seemed I couldn’t command anyone in this house anymore. After the chain was removed, my sister looked panicked. She shrank her neck and tried to crawl back into the dog cage. “I don’t live in the house. I’m a puppy, I have to live in the dog cage!” I hugged her tightly. “Mia, don’t be afraid. Sister will take you to the doctor right now.” Without time to clean her up, I rushed her to the hospital. After examination, my sister not only had severe psychological issues but her body was also ravaged. Scars large and small covered her chest and back, hidden under her clothes. 3 According to the doctor, my sister had been whipped, beaten with sticks, and had large burn marks. Several ribs showed signs of fracture, and even her skull was damaged. Listening to the doctor’s description, my tears fell uncontrollably. These people were scum! I held my sister in my arms. “Mia, don’t be afraid. Sister will protect you from now on. No one will ever bully you again!” I took my sister back to the villa, where Sophia greeted us with her pregnant belly. “Scarlett, is your Azure Dragon Seal with you?” My luggage in the living room had been rummaged through. “Who allowed you to touch my luggage!” “Scarlett, give your half of the seal to your mother quickly. She’s carrying your brother, and the family business will be inherited by him.” I laughed in anger. “The Azure Dragon Society values bloodline above all. Only the Sterling line can lead the society to prosperity. That bastard in her belly doesn’t deserve to covet the successor’s position!” Liam’s face turned green. “Watch your mouth! That’s your brother, not some bastard!” “Whether it is or not, she knows best.” Sophia leaned aggrievedly into Liam’s arms. “I’ve only had your father in my life. How can you throw such dirty water on me?” “Apologize to your mother immediately!” Ignoring the furious Liam, I pulled my sister towards my room. Liam chattered behind me. “Your mother even had your room cleaned specially and prepared your favorite fruits. Is this how you repay her!” I locked Liam out as soon as I entered the room with my sister. Liam wanted to have someone throw me out, but Sophia hypocritically persuaded him. It took a while for the noise outside to subside. I bathed my sister, changed her clothes, and only slept after watching her fall asleep. When my people arrive tomorrow, I’ll settle this score properly. I dozed off until the latter half of the night. When I opened my eyes again, my sister was gone. I woke up instantly and went to find her. My sister was in the dining room, kneeling on the floor serving food to Sophia’s nephew. Seeing me, Zack Zhao sneered, “My aunt said Mia is to be my wife. She’s born to serve me.” “Puppy, you performed well today. Have a bite.” Zack spat a piece of bread on the floor, and my sister immediately bent down to pick it up with her mouth. Zack laughed loudly. “Eating what I chewed? Truly a dog!” He climbed onto my sister’s back. “Run fast! If you’re fast, I’ll give you another bite!” My sister crawled on all fours, carrying him around the room. “Faster! Are you too slow to eat? If you’re slow, no dog food for you later!” My sister sped up, and Zack threw a few kibbles from his pocket. 4 My sister immediately went to pick them up. “Dog thing, only knows how to eat!” Unable to bear it any longer, I kicked Zack off my sister’s back. Zack fell with a thud, got up, and immediately yelled at me, “Damn it, you dare hit me!” “Someone, tie her up!” “Who dares!” I pulled my sister up and shielded her. “Zack, kneel and apologize to my sister now, and I might consider sparing your life. Otherwise, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance!” “Wow, you’re pretty arrogant! Think this is when your mom was alive?” “This house is named Song now, and so is the Azure Dragon Society! My uncle is in charge. Who are you to yell at me?” “Grab her!” The bodyguards rushed forward, pinning me and my sister down. Sophia came over, pretending to be kind. “Scarlett, my nephew is just spoiled by me. He means no harm, just playing with Mia.” “How about this? Give me the seal, and I’ll make him apologize to you and Mia.” “Want the seal? Keep dreaming!” Sophia was furious. “You ungrateful wretch! Search her! The seal must be on her!” “Finally stopped pretending? Seeing you smile at me makes me sick.” “Hmph, little bitch. If you were as obedient as your sister, I might have let you be a dog by my side. But you’re too wild. Since I can’t discipline you, I’ll send you to Myanmar to learn some manners.” “You dare!” “Once I find the seal, the whole Azure Dragon Society is mine. What wouldn’t I dare?” “Madam, found it!” A bodyguard handed my half of the seal to Sophia. Her eyes sparkled with greed. She combined her half with mine. “Great! The Azure Dragon Society is finally mine! Power across Asia, endless wealth, all mine!” I sneered. “You only got a token. Celebrating too early.” “The Azure Dragon Seal commands eight thousand branches across Asia. With it, I am the helmsman!” “You? Worthy?” “Still stubborn at death’s door! Send her and Mia to Myanmar!” I checked the time. They should be here. Sure enough, the next moment, a group of men in black rushed in, surrounding the villa tightly.

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