Category: English

My son and I were kidnapped. The kidnappers live-streamed our ordeal online, threatening to chop my son into pieces and feed him to dogs if the ransom wasn’t paid. Instantly, the entire internet was searching for my husband. But what they didn’t know was that at the exact same moment, trending alongside our kidnapping, was the city’s wealthiest billionaire announcing his new relationship with a famous actress, looking like the picture-perfect, happy family of three. That billionaire was my husband, the father of my child. Seeing those two trending topics side-by-side was truly laughable. Later, taking pity on my son, the kidnappers only took one of his hands. Dragging his bleeding, empty left sleeve, he crawled all the way home, only to stumble upon my husband celebrating the birthday of his “first love’s” child. My husband frowned. Looking at my son’s curled-up, trembling body, his eyes were ice-cold: “Truly Chloe’s child. You only know how to play the victim, just like your mother.” My son looked up. Using his only remaining hand, he tugged at my husband’s pant leg. “Mister… could you please lend me some money so I can bury my mom?” 1 It was the twenty-third hour since my son and I were taken and tortured by the kidnappers. Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city, was busy celebrating the sixth birthday of his “first love’s” child. I had dialed his number for help eighty-eight times. Every single time, I got a busy signal. Furious, the kidnapper grabbed me by the hair and dragged me in front of my son, his face contorted with rage. “Isn’t Arthur Sterling your husband?! Why the hell won’t the call go through?!” “Are you dialing the wrong number on purpose to stall for time?!” As he yelled, he violently ripped out clumps of my hair, taking patches of scalp with them. The sheer agony contorted my face instantly. Tossing the bloody hair onto the ground, the kidnapper sneered, spat in my face, and threatened: “I’m giving you one last chance. If the call doesn’t go through this time, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” He pointed at my son, who was pale with terror. It was a clear warning: if the call failed again… The next victim would be my child, who had just turned six. The excruciating pain made my body tremble uncontrollably, but I didn’t dare fight back. I had to protect my child. Picking up the phone, I dialed Arthur’s number for the eighty-ninth time. Beep… beep… “Hello?” Arthur’s deep, magnetic voice finally came through. The moment I heard his voice, tears immediately streamed down my face. A mix of overwhelming relief and terror tangled in my heart, making me blurt out desperately: “Hubby, Tommy and I have been kidnapped! You need to—” Before I could finish, the man on the other end cut me off with clear disgust: “Enough, Chloe! I don’t care what kind of act you’re pulling this time, but leave Tommy out of it!” “If you have any conscience left, stop using our son as a pawn to get my attention.” With that, he hung up without a second of hesitation. The kidnapper’s face darkened, his gaze shifting ominously toward my son. Ignoring my despair, I immediately called back, terrified that a second’s delay would cost my son his life. The call connected again. I begged through my sobs: “Arthur, I’m not lying! We’ve really been kidnapped! Please, I beg you, save our child!” Silence stretched on the other end for two seconds before Arthur’s voice, so cold it chilled me to the bone, rang out: “Then wait until you’re dead. I’ll come collect your bodies.” The line went dead. Arthur had turned off his phone. At the exact same moment, I received a video message from Mia. In the video, Arthur, dressed in a bespoke suit, held Mia’s son and spoke confidently to the media. “Yes, that’s right. This is Mia’s and my child.” “We were forced apart previously due to some misunderstandings, but now we have decided to get back together.” “From now on, I will be a good father and take excellent care of Mia and Leo.” Mia stood beside him, smiling sweetly. Attached to the video was an electronic invitation. [Chloe, you and Tommy are welcome to attend our wedding on the 5th of next month.] [We’d love for Tommy to be our ring bearer.] It felt like my heart was being shredded into pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. In my daze, my son suddenly screamed. “Mommy!” Having lost all patience, the kidnapper dragged my son up from the floor, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. “You little bastard! I didn’t expect you to be completely useless!” My son’s face turned a purplish blue as he desperately slapped the kidnapper’s massive hand with his tiny ones. “M-Mommy…” Rage eclipsed my fear. I screamed and lunged forward, desperate to save my son. Before I could even reach him, another kidnapper pinned me down and punched me brutally several times. “Bitch! You dare fight back?!” As he spoke, he picked up a rusty piece of rebar from the floor and jammed it into my mouth, churning it violently. The rough, jagged ridges tore my mouth apart, churning up bloody foam. My gums and tongue were shredded to a pulp. The agony was so intense I could only let out muffled whimpers. Only after completely venting his rage did the kidnapper throw my son to the ground. He ordered someone to open a live-streaming app on a phone. “Since he doesn’t believe the phone calls, we’ll live-stream the kid being tortured.” “I refuse to believe Arthur Sterling can be that heartless, completely abandoning his own flesh and blood.” 2 The kidnappers’ live stream of the abuse and the news of Arthur’s new relationship skyrocketed to the top of the trending lists simultaneously. In front of the media, Arthur affectionately placed Mia’s son on his shoulders and smiled at the reporters: “Alright, that concludes today’s interview. Mia and I need to go celebrate our child’s birthday.” Mia gave the man a coy, playful look. “Arthur is just like this. He’s always been such a good father.” Meanwhile, on the other side, the kidnappers shoved my son into a burlap sack, kicking and beating him mercilessly like a ragdoll. I was tied tightly to a chair, forced to watch this horror unfold with my own eyes. My son’s cries of pain, initially heart-wrenching screams, slowly faded into the weak whimpers of a dying kitten. The comment section rolled by in a blur: [I can’t watch this! The kid’s screams are too horrible!] [Didn’t they say they’d let the kid go as long as the dad connected to the stream? Where is the dad?!] [Can anyone contact the kid’s father?! Save the child!] The kidnapper dragged my son out of the sack, his eyes filled with sinister cruelty: “You little bastard. It seems your dad really can hold his nerve. He still refuses to show up.” “Fine. Don’t blame me for what happens next.” With that, he picked up the piece of rebar and began to move. My eyes nearly burst from their sockets in sheer terror. Dragging the chair with me, I threw myself to the floor, kowtowing frantically toward them like a madwoman. “I beg you, please don’t hurt my child! I’m not afraid of pain! Do whatever you want to me, just let my child go! I beg you!” My forehead slammed heavily against the concrete floor, quickly dyeing it red. My son opened his eyes, looking at me, and kept shaking his head. “No, Mommy. Tommy doesn’t hurt… Tommy doesn’t hurt at all.” My son’s voice was like an ice pick plunging deep into my heart. But I couldn’t afford to be afraid. He was only six. His life was just beginning. Tears mixed with blood slid down my cheeks as I gave him the same gentle smile I always did. “Tommy, Mommy is an adult. Adults don’t feel pain.” My son looked confused, still shaking his head continuously. The kidnapper, completely out of patience, gripped the rebar and stepped menacingly toward my son. “You little bastard, let’s see you cry now!” In that split second, I lunged forward with all my might, shoving my son out of the way. The rebar plunged down, impaling my body. The agonizing pain caused my body to convulse uncontrollably, but I didn’t want to terrify my child. Even as the kidnapper yanked the rebar out, I fought desperately to keep the smile on my face. I wanted to tell my child not to be afraid. I wanted to tell him how much Mommy loved him. But when I opened my mouth, all I could manage was a smiling whisper: “Tommy, don’t cry. Mommy doesn’t hurt.” In the moments before my death, countless memories flashed through my mind. I thought of our wedding day, how Arthur’s hands trembled so much holding mine that it took him ages to slip the ring on my finger. I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant, how Arthur’s eyes were rimmed with red as he asked me, “Am I really going to be a dad?” I thought of my son’s fifth birthday, the grand, extravagant celebration Arthur threw for him. But soon, those memories were replaced by the countless times Mia framed me and my son after her divorce. By Arthur’s suspicion, his disappointment, and finally, his cold, heartless glare. My vision began to blur. I could hear my son’s voice. He was saying: “Mommy, don’t go to sleep. Tommy will be good. Tommy will listen.” “Mommy, don’t sleep!” I used my last ounce of strength to raise my hand, wanting to stroke my son’s hair. But all I felt was sticky, warm blood. I’m sorry, Mommy couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry, Tommy. My consciousness sank entirely into darkness. My son stretched out his tiny hands, desperately trying to plug the bleeding wounds on my body. But it was all in vain. The comment section couldn’t take it anymore, scrolling frantically: [These monstrous kidnappers! Where are the police?! Hurry up and save them!] [Where is the child’s father?! Why hasn’t he shown up yet?!] [Does anyone know this child?! Please help them, I’m begging you!] … Even the kidnappers began to panic. One nervously turned to his accomplice: “What do we do? She’s dead.” The accomplice narrowed his eyes, his voice chilling: “It’s fine. We still have the little one, don’t we? We can still get the ransom.” He ripped my son away from my body and shoved him in front of the camera. Revealing his small face, covered in dark bruises. “Look closely, everyone! This child’s father is the CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling!” The rapidly scrolling comment section paused for a split second. Then it absolutely exploded. [How is that possible? Didn’t CEO Sterling just announce his relationship with that actress?] [Yeah, they have a kid, but isn’t his name Leo?] [Are the kidnappers insane? They’re trying to extort him?] [Exactly! Did they kidnap the wrong person?!] Just as everyone was debating furiously, someone suddenly commented. [I was at the announcement event! I saw CEO Sterling check his phone!] [Just wait a second, everyone! CEO Sterling definitely saw the news! He’ll be here any minute!] As soon as that comment dropped, a bold, enlarged message was pinned to the top of the chat. It immediately caught the kidnappers’ attention. [Connect with me! I am Arthur Sterling!] My son didn’t recognize many words, but he knew the characters for “Arthur Sterling” meant his dad. His eyes instantly lit up. “Daddy…” 3 The connection was established, but it wasn’t Arthur on the other end. The kidnapper’s expression twisted. He violently pinned my son to the floor, raising a knife to sever his left hand. The voice on the other end frantically tried to stop him: [Wait! Don’t do anything rash! I’m CEO Sterling’s personal secretary!] [I just want to tell you that you’ve kidnapped the wrong person. Everyone in the company knows our CEO has always kept his personal life clean and never had any children.] [The only child he acknowledges is the actress’s son, Leo. Please don’t hurt an innocent child!] The kidnapper sneered, pressing the cleaver against my son’s neck, his tone freezing: “I’ll give you ten minutes to get Arthur Sterling on the phone. Otherwise, I’m going to use this kid’s head as a soccer ball!” Helpless, the secretary had no choice but to call Arthur’s number. “Hello? Who are you looking for?” A young, childish voice answered, filled with joy. The next second, an indulgent male voice could be heard. “Leo, the paper airplane is ready. Come here, Daddy Arthur will play with you.” The boy cheered, laughing happily: “Okay! Daddy Arthur, someone is looking for you.” Arthur took the phone, sounding displeased: “What is it? Didn’t I tell you today is Leo’s birthday, and that I’m not to be disturbed no matter what happens?!” The secretary froze for a second before immediately asking: “Mr. Sterling, do you have another son named Tommy? He…” “Enough!” Arthur angrily cut the secretary off: “I don’t know how much Chloe paid you, but I’m warning you, stop using children as a pathetic ploy to get my attention.” “I only have one son right now, and that’s Leo.” “Don’t ever mention anyone else to me again!” With that, the line went dead again. His voice echoed throughout the entire live stream, completely extinguishing the light in my son’s eyes. Perhaps he didn’t understand what “paid you” meant, but he knew one thing for sure: his dad had abandoned him. Muttering that realization, my son closed his eyes, his heart turning to ash. In that moment, he stopped struggling. The live stream was automatically shut down due to suspected violations. Furious and humiliated, the kidnapper raised the cleaver, ready to strike, but his accomplice stopped him. Looking at my son’s innocent, bruised face, he suggested: “Forget it. Since Arthur Sterling refuses to acknowledge him, this kid is useless now.” “Just chop off one of his hands and dump him at Arthur’s villa.” “Since he wants his mom so badly, give him a chance to collect her body.” The kidnapper scoffed, moving the cleaver to my son’s left arm. As the cleaver fell, my son’s agonizing screams echoed through the entire warehouse. Meanwhile, Arthur, who was busy helping a child cut a birthday cake, suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his heart. 4 When he woke up again, my son, now missing a hand, had been dumped by the kidnappers outside Arthur’s sprawling villa. In the courtyard sat a massive, elaborate toy castle. Arthur and Mia were playing games with Leo. The continuous sound of joyful laughter drifted over, reviving my son’s consciousness. He painfully rolled over, staring blankly at the happy scene in the courtyard, his eyes welling with tears. Soon, he remembered what the kidnappers had said. Collect Mommy’s body… Right. I have to collect Mommy’s body. Even though he didn’t fully understand what “collecting a body” meant, his instinct told him it was incredibly important to Mommy. With that thought, he didn’t even have time to process the agonizing pain in his shoulder. Using his only remaining right hand, he dragged himself across the rough ground. Inch by inch, he painfully crawled toward the massive gates of the villa. Sharp stones sliced his palm; gravel dug deep into his raw wounds. Every single movement was sheer torture. This was the same child who used to cry and hide in my arms over a minor scrape. This time, he only whimpered a few times silently before immediately continuing his agonizing crawl. He stared at the increasingly closer gates of the villa, muttering to himself: “It doesn’t hurt… Tommy doesn’t hurt… I have to collect Mommy’s body…” When he finally touched the gate, my son let out a sigh of relief. He raised his head and used his very last ounce of strength to scream. “Daddy!” Hearing the sound, Arthur instinctively turned his head. When he saw the tiny, curled-up figure outside the gate, the man froze, a flicker of heartbreak flashing in his eyes. Just as he was about to step forward, Mia interrupted him. “Arthur, is that Tommy? Why is he here? Didn’t Chloe say they were kidnapped?” Mia’s expression briefly twisted, but her voice remained soft and gentle as water. “But then again, it makes sense. Chloe has always been jealous of how well you treat me and Leo. Trying to ruin Leo’s birthday is exactly her style.” “It’s just pitiful for Tommy. Being used like this at such a young age.” Hearing Mia’s words, Arthur’s heart hardened once more. He looked at my son from a distance, his voice cold and merciless: “What? Your mom’s calls didn’t work, so she sent you here to play the victim?!” “I can’t believe I have a son like you. You’re an embarrassment. From now on, without my permission, you are not allowed to call me ‘Daddy’.” “I’ll count to three. Get up right now, or don’t blame me for what happens next!” My son moved his pale lips, trying to explain, but the pain had long since drained him of all strength. Seeing no reaction, Arthur’s anger flared. He turned, grabbed a heavy model airplane from the yard, and hurled it viciously at my son. “I told you to get up! Stop acting!” The model shattered against my son’s forehead with a loud crack. Blood dripped into his eyes, dyeing his vision red. He wanted to tell his dad that he wasn’t acting. That Tommy was in so much pain. But he had no strength left. Seeing his son still unmoving, Arthur’s fury peaked. He shook off Mia’s hand and marched toward my son: “You’re still refusing to listen, aren’t you?! Believe it or not, I’ll—” Before he could finish, a harsh ringtone pierced the air. “Hello, is this Mr. Arthur Sterling? We received a report that your child was live-streamed by kidnappers this morning, and the mother was killed on the scene.” “We need you to come to the police station immediately to assist with our investigation.” Clatter! The phone slipped from his grasp. Arthur saw the blood covering my son, and his eyes instantly turned blood-red. My son finally found a sliver of strength. He raised his head and, using his only remaining right hand, feebly tugged at Arthur’s pant leg: “Mister… could you please lend me some money… to help me bury my mom?”

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When I was ten, I moved into the Mercer home with my mother after she remarried. My stepbrother, Ethan Mercer, always mocked me as a parasite, once even pushing me down the stairs. He watched me lie in a pool of blood with cold eyes: “Don’t think you can become a Mercer just because you follow your mistress mother. I’ll kick you out eventually.” He’d tear up my homework, draw on my dress with markers, deliberately trying to humiliate me. Even though I was obedient in every way, his malice never ceased. Until his best friend, Leo Donovan, confessed his feelings for me in college. From then on, Ethan, surprisingly, stopped tormenting me. I saw Leo as my salvation, and on my birthday, we became intimate. But the very next day, I overheard a conversation between him and Ethan. Ethan’s voice was steeped in malice: “Did you get her first time on camera?” Leo chuckled mockingly: “Of course, high-definition, uncensored. If it weren’t to get back at you, I wouldn’t touch a home-wrecker like her.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. My supposed salvation was nothing more than Ethan’s tool for revenge. Only, he didn’t know I had submitted my application to study abroad. I was never coming back. … In the private room. Ethan took a drag from his cigarette. “Ruin her reputation. Let’s see how she clings to living in my house after that.” “What if she can’t take it and something happens…” Ethan shot him a glance, scoffing. “So worried about her? Don’t tell me you actually fell for her?” Leo quickly denied it. “No way! I was just messing around with her.” “Chloe is coming back. I don’t have time to waste on Elara.” I stood outside the door, my heart a block of ice. Chloe Harrison was their childhood sweetheart, growing up with them, and Leo’s first love. Ethan always hated me; I knew that. He believed my mother’s appearance caused his mother’s suicide, so he transferred all that hatred onto me. After I started dating Leo, Ethan still didn’t care for me, but he didn’t torment me as he used to. I thought he had finally accepted me. I thought I was finally going to have a brother and eagerly anticipated a normal relationship with him. I never expected this, a revenge far more malicious than before. He and Leo had been inseparable since childhood; how could I have deluded myself into thinking he truly liked me? I had overestimated myself. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and ran out like a madwoman. It was pouring rain outside. I was completely drenched. The moment I got home, I texted my professor, “Professor, I agree to go abroad with you for the project.” He was my mentor from an international competition, a leader in intelligent technology. I used to strive for excellence, desperately wanting my family’s approval. But no one ever cared. Not my mother, not Ethan. Because the project involved classified information, I couldn’t leave the research institute for three years, so I had refused it. Now, that no longer mattered. Perhaps it was the rain, but I curled up in a ball. Only after being startled awake by a nightmare did I realize I was burning up. Just as I was about to get up for fever medicine, my bedroom door was suddenly pushed open. Before I could speak, my mother, furious, threw a stack of photos at my face: “Elara Vance! How old are you to be sleeping with men? Are you that depraved?” Those photos were taken by Leo while I was asleep. My eyes were vacant, a profound sadness rising in my heart. Overnight, they couldn’t wait to spread the photos. Just two days ago, Leo had solemnly promised me: “I’ll take responsibility for you. We’ll get married after graduation.” He had plied me with a lot of alcohol, and under his persistent coaxing, I agreed. He pulled me into bed again and again, lost in primal desire. I was naive enough to think he truly loved me then. Seeing my silence, my mother relentlessly interrogated me: “Speak up, who took these? If anyone else sees these photos, your uncle and I will never be able to show our faces in society again!” She never cared about me, only herself. But when I said Leo’s name, my mother fell silent. She chastised me: “How could you get involved with the Donovan family’s son? We can’t afford to offend someone like him…” “Besides, you and Leo were dating normally. Even with evidence, we can’t do anything to him. Why didn’t you just say no?” I snapped my head up, my eyes wide with disbelief. She avoided my gaze: “Those photos have been taken down. Given time, no one will remember this.” The Donovans were powerful and wealthy, not someone the Mercers could easily offend. The moment the door closed, I saw Ethan standing at the top of the stairs, smiling at me, his eyes full of provocation. It was as if he had anticipated this outcome all along. The truth no longer mattered. A deep sense of powerlessness washed over me, drowning me in an instant. I crouched in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. My phone began to buzz with incessant harassment messages. They sent disgusting words that made me nauseous. My hands trembled as I blocked all those numbers. My mother said she had arranged a long leave of absence from school for me, so I didn’t have to go. I didn’t want her to know about going abroad, so I would have to return to school myself to complete the paperwork. She was always too busy for me; she probably wouldn’t even notice if I left. Even though the photos had been deleted, almost everyone around me knew what had happened. Their gazes were filled with scrutiny and mockery, accompanied by whispers. “I never would have thought, she looks so innocent usually, but behind closed doors, she’s so wild. Who knows how many men she’s slept with?” “Who knows, don’t get too close to her. She might have an STD.” A suffocating mix of shame and fear enveloped me. My heart suddenly seized up, and I barely remembered how I left school. Walking disoriented on the street, I was stopped by several men approaching me. The leader pulled out a phone displaying my intimate photos, sizing me up with a sickening gaze. “This picture is you, right? You’ve got a great body.” “Playing so wild in private, how much for a night?” “Come on, have some fun with us. I want to taste what Leo Donovan’s girlfriend is like.” My body stiffened, and I took half a step back: “What do you want?” The men exchanged lewd smiles. Ignoring my struggles, they forcibly dragged me into a dimly lit alley. They grinned menacingly, pressing down on me. “Get off me! Don’t touch me!” But my hands and feet were pinned down; I couldn’t even struggle. I could only watch helplessly as their filthy hands reached for my body. The sound of tearing fabric filled my ears. “Don’t struggle. No one’s coming to save you. If you make us happy, we might go easy on you.” I bit my lip hard, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth. Seizing the moment while they were taking off their clothes, I quickly pulled out the knife I had hidden in my bag. My hand holding the knife trembled: “Don’t come any closer, any of you…” The first time I was bullied, my mother said it was because I dressed provocatively and told me not to wear dresses anymore. But at that time, I was wearing my school uniform. If Ethan hadn’t appeared in time, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Since then, I always carried a fruit knife with me. My fear reached its peak. But they still grinned, unafraid, even trying to snatch the knife from my hand. In the struggle, the blade plunged into my chest. The leader panicked, as if afraid of causing a death, and released me. I collapsed to the ground, my clothes soaked in blood. My vision blurred. But I could hear them making a hushed phone call. “Mr. Mercer, something happened. She stabbed herself.” Ethan’s voice came from the other end of the line. “Is she dead?” Then Leo’s voice: “Ethan, you’re a real bastard. You actually hired people to ambush her.” Ethan sneered: “I just wanted to scare her. Whose fault is it if she wants to die?” “If she’s not dead, dump her at the hospital. Don’t let her know what happened today.” My heart felt like it was being violently squeezed, almost suffocating me with pain. So… he really wanted to destroy me. The words I had accidentally overheard him say flashed through my mind. “Actually, I know my mom wasn’t killed by her. But I just don’t want her to live in peace.” “My dad feels guilty towards them, but I certainly don’t.” Tears fell uncontrollably from the corners of my eyes. I completely lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed. Leo was by my side, and when he saw me wake, he immediately leaned in, concerned. “Baby, you’re finally awake. I was so worried.” Seeing my silence, his eyes flickered: “I saw those photos. I’m so sorry. I went out, got drunk, and someone took my phone by mistake and posted them.” “Don’t worry, I’ve had them all deleted. Don’t overthink it, I don’t mind any of it.” I looked at him quietly, my heart a dead wasteland. He was clearly the culprit, yet he was playing the savior. If he hadn’t relentlessly pursued me when I was at my most vulnerable, we never would have been together. But before I could even speak, his phone rang. He responded softly to whatever was said on the other end, then turned and left, phone still in hand, without a backward glance. No sooner had he left than Ethan walked in. Seeing my disheveled state, his eyes showed disgust as he said: “Do you know why he left in such a hurry? Chloe’s back in the country, and she’s not used to the environment, so she can’t sleep. He went to comfort her until she fell asleep. He won’t be protecting you anymore, so don’t delude yourself.” At his words, my body involuntarily trembled. Chloe Harrison was their childhood sweetheart, growing up with them, and Leo’s first love. Because Ethan’s mother once said Chloe resembled her, Ethan always catered to her every whim since they were children. I cherished Ethan as a brother, always trying to be good to him, but it was never enough to outweigh a single word from Chloe. I closed my eyes, a self-deprecating smile playing on my lips. Only now did I truly see that neither Leo nor Ethan ever truly cared for me. Normally, I would have apologized to appease him. But I merely turned my head indifferently: “Understood. It won’t happen again.” Ethan paused for a moment: “Leo isn’t here. Who are you putting on this pathetic act for?” He stormed out. Due to my severe injuries, I was in the hospital for a whole week. My mother, upon learning this, only transferred the hospital fees, then left on a business trip with Uncle Mercer, never visiting me. I was alone even on the day of my discharge. I took advantage of their absence to start packing. There wasn’t much to take, really. The things I once treasured were mostly Ethan’s handouts. Now, they were unnecessary.

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In the third year of my marriage to Arthur Hayes, he died unexpectedly in a car accident. I was inconsolable. It took me five full years to recover, finding solace through the comforting presence of his best friend, Ben Carter. Over time, living in such close proximity, feelings developed between us, and we decided to get married. But at the registrar’s office, the clerk looked at me with a strange expression. “Ma’am, our records indicate you’re already married and your marriage is still active. If you proceed, it could constitute bigamy.” At first, I didn’t believe it. But when I saw “Arthur Hayes” listed in the spouse column, both Ben and I froze. How could my husband, who had passed away five years ago, still be legally married to me? “Excuse me, could there be a system error?” I glanced awkwardly at Ben. “My former husband was indeed Arthur Hayes, but he died five years ago. Legally, a marriage automatically terminates upon the death of a spouse. How could I still be married to him?” The clerk grew impatient, her eyes scrutinizing me. “I’ve checked three times. Your husband, Arthur Hayes, is currently alive, and your marriage is legal and valid. There’s no mistake.” She wasn’t particularly quiet, and hearing her, people nearby shot me disdainful glances. “That woman has some nerve, bringing her lover to get married while her husband is still alive.” “Is she crazy? Does she not know marrying two people is bigamy?” “Can these people stop treating government officials like part of their twisted games?” Seeing the increasingly hostile looks from those around us, Ben quickly pulled me out. Back in the car, I still hadn’t recovered from the shock. Before Ben could offer comfort, I immediately pulled out my phone and called Arthur’s mother. After two rings, her cold voice was piercing. “Why are you calling me? Didn’t I tell you not to contact me again?” “What, you’re marrying Arthur’s best friend now, and you want to invite your former mother-in-law to the wedding?” I ignored her sarcastic tone and immediately asked, “Mom, please tell me, was Arthur truly dead back then? Was he faking his death to deceive me?” On the other end of the line, Arthur’s mother exploded like a sputtering oil pan, roaring at me in anger. “Evelyn Lane, do you have any conscience? Arthur died because of you! If you hadn’t suddenly craved cake in the middle of the night, would he have driven while fatigued and gotten into that accident? You personally identified his body; how dare you ask me such a thing? You have no conscience!” The call was abruptly cut off, but I remained suspicious. After all, though I had rushed to the scene of Arthur’s accident immediately, his body was so mangled from the impact that even his face was unrecognizable. We had identified him by his clothes and car. I took a deep breath, then took Ben to the police station that had handled the accident to check the records. Seeing the 100% DNA match, I froze. The person who died was indeed Arthur Hayes. But a dead man… how could he maintain a five-year marriage with me? Back home, Ben received an urgent call for overtime work. Before leaving, he hugged my shoulders, reassuring me softly. “Don’t be scared.” “I helped with Arthur’s funeral arrangements; he truly was… it couldn’t have been faked.” “Maybe something went wrong when the paperwork was processed. We’ll check again tomorrow; it might be nothing.” “Sweetheart, it’s your birthday today. Be happy.” “When I get back, we’ll celebrate properly.” Looking at Ben’s gentle eyes, my unease lessened considerably, and I nodded at him. After Arthur’s death, I was overcome with grief, on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. If Ben hadn’t canceled so much work to be with me, even using his connections to find me the best psychologist, I doubt I would have recovered so quickly. Although our relationship later wasn’t approved by many, and there were even some unpleasant rumors, I didn’t care. After all, I was living my own life. Sighing, I poured myself a cup of hot water, just about to calm my nerves. The doorbell suddenly rang. I thought it was Ben, having forgotten something. But when I opened the door, it was a smiling delivery man holding a bouquet of flowers. He enthusiastically said, “Is this Ms. Evelyn Lane? These are from your husband.” I took the bouquet, seeing the vibrant red roses, and the gloom in my heart instantly lifted. Just as I was about to snap a photo to send to Ben, the delivery man suddenly smiled and said, “You know, Mr. Hayes is truly thoughtful.” “Our shop had run out of roses, but he specially had the owner air-freight these from a neighboring city.” “Because he said your first meeting was at our shop, he insisted the roses be delivered under our shop’s name. So romantic…” The delivery man continued to chatter, but my face had instantly changed. “Wait.” I gripped the doorframe, my heart feeling like it was trying to leap out of my throat. “My husband, you said. What’s his last name?” The smile on the delivery man’s face froze. He looked at me strangely. “Mr. Hayes, of course. He orders flowers from our shop every year; he’s a regular customer.” Thud. The bouquet in my hand instantly fell to the ground. But I didn’t even bother to pick it up, staring at his face in shock, enunciating each word. “The Mr. Hayes you’re talking about, does he have a red mole between his eyebrows?” Seeing the delivery man nod in surprise, I immediately pulled out my phone, found a photo of Arthur’s ID, and showed it to him. “Is the Mr. Hayes you’re talking about him?” Now the delivery man looked at me even more strangely. “Of course it’s him, Ms. Lane. Are you messing with me? Don’t you know what your own husband looks like?” He scratched his head, gave me a look as if I were an idiot, and walked away. I held onto the doorframe, staring at the blood-red flowers on the ground, and suddenly noticed a greeting card tucked in the bouquet. But in previous years, the bouquets never had one. I picked up the card, and after reading its contents, a chill instantly crawled up my spine. Because the card clearly read: “Dearest wife, happy wedding anniversary. Your loving husband, Arthur Hayes.” I didn’t dare stay home alone. I hailed a taxi and went straight to my office. On the way, I messaged Ben, telling him what had just happened. But the man who always replied instantly didn’t respond. It wasn’t until I entered the office. Just as I was about to call him directly to ask what was going on, Liam, a colleague I was always friendly with, chuckled and came over. “Didn’t you take today off for a romantic day with your husband? Why are you back so soon?” I forced a faint smile, replying evasively, “He’s a bit busy, and I need to catch up on work, so I wanted to come back and organize some project files.” Liam gave me a knowing smile, pointing at a lunch bag on my desk. “Got it, got it. Your husband stood you up today. But he did make you a fancy meal to apologize. You should be gracious and forgive him.” Instantly, the smile on my face froze.

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My name is Dutch. I haul freight for a living. But you won’t see my rig parked at a Walmart loading dock, and I don’t move consumer goods. I specialize in the kind of “shadow contracts” that most drivers wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Word around the depots is that I’m hard to kill—that I was born under a dark star and have enough grit to stare down whatever crawls out of the roadside ditches. But this last job? The cargo was a truckload of “live fish,” and it damn near buried me. These weren’t your average catch. They were massive, housed in custom-built black timber crates that looked more like caskets than shipping containers. The creepiest part was the sealing protocol. Each lid had to be hammered shut with seven iron spikes, black as sin and thick as a finger. Curiosity is a dangerous thing on the road, but it got the better of me. I pried a corner open for a peek. Just one look. That’s all it took to make sure that for the rest of my life, the mere sight of open water makes my hands shake. Because what was swimming in that box wasn’t a fish. It was… 1 It was an open secret in the underground logistics circuit that the heir to the Vanderwalt fortune had a taste for fish. Rumor had it the young patriarch consumed a dozen massive sturgeons every month—creatures bigger than a grown man. Hauling for the Vanderwalts used to be the golden ticket—high pay, premium routes. But in the last three months alone, seven veteran drivers had vanished or washed out. When Russo, the owner of the logistics company, cornered me, he looked like he’d been drinking swamp water. His face was a sickly shade of green. “Dutch, I’m telling you, this is wrong. It’s unnatural,” Russo hissed, wiping sweat from his forehead. “We watched them load the crates. They looked like fish. They moved like fish.” “The Vanderwalts have money to burn,” I said, scrolling through the video file Russo had sent to my phone. “Why are they importing monster river monsters when they could be eating lobster on a yacht?” On the screen, a driver I vaguely recognized was curled up on the asphalt, sobbing. His skin was pale as chalk. “It’s not a fish!” he screamed at the person recording. “It’s people! I saw legs!” The camera panned to the overturned cargo. Sliding out of the splintered wood was a massive, glistening creature. It had scales, fins, and a tail. “That thing has to be five feet long,” I muttered, zooming in. “Growth hormones? Genetic splicing?” “Rich people and their sick hobbies, who knows?” Russo looked miserable. “Supposedly it’s some rare import. Young Mr. Vanderwalt craves the… freshness.” I lit a cigarette and watched the driver on the screen breakdown, swearing he’d never touch a steering wheel again. I knew then why Russo was begging me. “Dutch, I need you to bail me out. Just two more runs. If you don’t take this, the breach of contract fees will leave me without a pot to piss in.” Russo looked like he was about to get on his knees. The Vanderwalts weren’t just rich; they were powerful in ways that made the local police look the other way. I didn’t want their karma rubbing off on me. “You’ve been pulling too many cursed tickets lately, Russo,” I said, exhaling smoke. “I drive for a paycheck, not a death wish. The Vanderwalt water is too deep. People drown in it.” Russo sighed, the lines on his face deepening. “It’s the holidays, Dutch. The boys need the bonus. I warned them about the risks, but the Vanderwalt money… it made them blind. We would have folded three months ago without it.” Russo and I went way back. When I was at rock bottom, he was the one who fronted me the cash for repairs. “Look,” Russo pressed, seeing me hesitate. “Miller just got diagnosed with kidney failure. Lewis’s wife is expecting their second kid. They’re desperate.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “I’m all in on this. You do this run, I don’t take a cut. Every cent goes to you. If something happens… that’s on me. I won’t hold you to it.” He had me cornered. I couldn’t walk away when he put it like that. “Fine,” I crushed the cigarette under my boot. “Tell them I’m coming. But don’t start loading until I get there.” 2 The pickup point was a secluded hatchery deep in the marshlands, a private facility leased entirely by the Vanderwalts. It was a twenty-hour haul. When I rolled into the yard the next day, the massive crates were already staged. Because it was a “short” run relative to cross-country, the creatures were packed in thick, transparent industrial bags pumped full of oxygen before being crated. The size of them was unsettling. It took three burly dockworkers heaving in unison just to lift one bag into a box. And the boxes… why black timber? Why not fiberglass tanks or insulated coolers? lined up on the gravel, the vertical crates looked exactly like rows of coffins waiting for a mass burial. “Dutch.” Russo had saddled me with a rookie named Mikey. The kid looked like he’d been drafted for war. “Dutch, stay back,” Mikey whispered, scrunching his nose. “The smell… it burns your eyes even through the plastic.” He wasn’t wrong. As I got closer, a stench hit me—pungent, metallic, and rotting. Live fish smell like algae and river mud. They don’t smell like a week-old corpse. My gut tightened, but I walked up to the line. Before the workers could nail the lid shut, I leaned in. The creature inside hovered in the water, suspended. Its mouth gaped open and shut rhythmically. Its belly was a sickly, translucent white, contrasting with scales that shimmered a bruised grey-blue. The meat beneath looked dense. I checked the manifest. They were alive. Then the hammering started. The workers weren’t just sealing the crates; they were driving those seven black spikes in with a violence that made the wood groan. Clang. Clang. At the sound, the fish in the bags went berserk, thrashing against the plastic. That’s when I saw it. A detail that sent a cold spike of adrenaline down my spine. The fish were blinking. Fish don’t have eyelids. They live in the water; they don’t need to moisten their eyes. But I saw it clear as day. A thin, membranous layer of skin slid down over those milky, bulbous eyes and then retracted. Blink. Blink. 3 “Well, look at that. Russo actually found someone stupid enough to drive the hearse. I heard the last guy pissed his pants for three days straight.” The voice was oily and mocking. “Shut your mouth!” Mikey snapped. He was young and full of nervous energy. “We handle our business. Worry about your own.” “Easy there, pup. The grown-ups are talking.” “Slick,” I acknowledged without turning around. “Ah, Dutch. I should have known.” The bald man grinned, his scalp gleaming in the harsh sunlight. “I figured Russo brought in a heavy hitter.” I ignored him and looked past his shoulder. Standing behind Slick was his brother—a man known in the circuit as Twitch. Slick and Twitch were the bottom feeders of our industry. If I was the guy you called for a tough job, they were the guys you called to bury the evidence. 4 We have a term in the trade: “Pathfinding.” When a new route opens up, or an abandoned logging road needs to be run again, you send a veteran driver to test the waters. We call it “clearing the mines.” If the pathfinder makes it through without vanishing or crashing, the fleet follows. It pays double, sometimes triple. But you’re basically being paid to see if the road ghosts are hungry. Slick and Twitch made their living doing this. But they were dirty. They’d run you off the road to beat you to a contract. They’d sabotage your rig at a rest stop. I’d had run-ins with them before. My mentor used to tell me, “Don’t wrestle with pigs; you both get dirty, and the pig likes it.” Twitch, the younger brother, was the one who really turned my stomach. He didn’t talk much. He was short but had disturbingly long arms that hung past his knees, giving him the silhouette of a gibbon. People said I looked scary—I’m six-four, built like a linebacker, with a face that stops bar fights before they start. But if I looked like a bouncer, Twitch looked like a demon that had clawed its way out of a basement. It wasn’t just his looks. Twitch had a history. He’d done time for stalking and assault. He liked to hurt women. 5 “What are you doing here?” I lit a cigarette, stepping between them and Mikey. “Russo has the contract. You trying to poach?” Slick flashed a grin full of yellow teeth. “Relax, Dutch. We aren’t poaching. We’re the overflow. The client said the volume was too high for one truck. We’re splitting the load. Everybody eats.” I glanced back at the loading dock. There were at least thirty of those coffin-crates. Too many for my flatbed. “Fine,” I said. “Stay out of my lane, I’ll stay out of yours.” Honestly, I was relieved. If they wanted to share the curse of the Vanderwalt job, they were welcome to it. 6 We loaded up and rolled out first. Mikey was fuming. Slick had spat on the ground near his boots before we left. “Garbage humans,” Mikey muttered, gripping the dash. “Slick and Twitch have been rotting in this business for twenty years,” I said calmly. “They’re dangerous. Keep your distance. Don’t engage.” Mikey grumbled but quieted down. I wasn’t just lecturing him. There was a darkness around those brothers that went beyond just being jerks. 7 Over a decade ago, back when I was still riding shotgun with my mentor, there was an old-timer who took on a young apprentice. The kid was barely seventeen, pretty in a way that made you look twice. Soft features, bright eyes. We called him Jamie. We were all stuck at a rest stop during a blizzard. Jamie had the bad luck of running into the brothers in the bathroom. We heard the shouting through the walls. Jamie was crying, screaming that Twitch had cornered him in a stall. My mentor and the old-timer kicked the door in. Twitch was on the kid. It turned into a brawl. I was the only one big enough to pin Twitch down. I held his face against the dirty tile floor, and when I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see fear. I saw red, frantic arousal. It wasn’t human. The cops were called, but without physical evidence, nothing stuck. But the bad luck started immediately for the old-timer. Tires blowing out on straight roads. Engines catching fire. Jamie blamed himself. He went to confront the brothers alone. No one knows exactly what happened. We just know that Jamie jumped off a bridge the next night. When they fished him out, he was bloated beyond recognition. The old-timer quit the life, heartbroken. He told my mentor one thing before he vanished: “You can dodge a bullet, but you can’t dodge a curse. Those two aren’t men; they’re devils.” 8 I shook the memory off. We were on the access road now, heading for the highway. It was desolate country. The dirt road was riddled with potholes. The truck bounced violently. Maybe it was the suspension, or maybe it was the load, but I kept hearing sloshing sounds from the back. Mikey was curled up in the passenger seat, looking pale. “Take a nap,” I said. “We’ll switch in a few hours.” “I’m not tired,” Mikey said quickly. Too quickly. He looked like a cornered animal. “I slept great last night.” I wanted to ask what he’d seen on the manifest, but I didn’t want to spook him further. Suddenly, a rhythmic thumping started from the cargo hold. Thump… Thump… It was heavy. Deliberate. Mikey’s face went grey. He stared at his knees, twisting his hands together until his knuckles turned white. “Just the water displacement,” I lied. “Road’s rough.” Mikey didn’t answer. The noise got louder. Faster. It didn’t sound like fish tails slapping water. It sounded like wet, heavy palms slamming against the wood. I pressed down on the accelerator. “We’ll be on the interstate soon. It’ll smooth out.” 9 Once we hit the pavement, the thumping stopped. “See?” I told Mikey. “Physics.” He nodded, but the color didn’t come back to his cheeks. Around noon, we pulled over at a gravel lot where a guy was selling hot meals out of a converted trailer. “Get out, get some air,” I ordered. The cab smelled like a fish market that had lost power three days ago. Mikey stumbled out, breathing in the cold air. He ordered the braised pork over rice and a chicken leg. I chatted with the food vendor while I ate. He mentioned traffic was thin; drivers were avoiding this route. Behind me, Mikey let out a strangled scream and hurled his lunch container across the lot. “What is that?! What the hell is that?!” He fell to his knees, clawing at his mouth, trying to dig the food out of his throat. The vendor looked terrified. “Hey! That meat is fresh! Bought it this morning!” “No! No!” Mikey was gagging, tears streaming down his face. I grabbed a water bottle from the truck and flushed his mouth out. He retched violently, vomiting a pile of half-chewed pork onto the gravel. And there, glistening in the mess, were several scales. They were the size of thumbnails. Grey-blue. 10 The vendor poked at the mess with a stick. “I didn’t cook any fish today. Where did those come from?” He tried to refund us, but I waved him off. It wasn’t his fault. Just then, the screech of air brakes announced the arrival of the brothers. Slick hopped out of their rig. “Look at that. Kid’s got a weak stomach. Typical.” Twitch stood by the fender. His face was flushed a deep, unnatural red, like he’d downed a bottle of vodka. He was vibrating with energy. I recognized that look. It was the look he got when things were about to go wrong. He was hunting. Mikey was still dry heaving. I hauled him back into the cab. As I pulled away, I checked the mirror. Twitch was staring at our truck, a twisted, predatory smile stretching his face. 11 I drove the afternoon shift. Mikey was a wreck, shaking too hard to hold a cigarette. I kept the windows down, letting the freezing wind blast through the cab to scrub out the smell. We stopped for the night at a motel in a small, forgotten town at the base of the mountains. The next leg was a treacherous climb, icy and narrow. I wasn’t risking it in the dark. The motel was a dive—peeling paint, neon sign buzzing—but it had a big lot for rigs. The lobby doubled as a diner. Mikey picked at two hard-boiled eggs and nursed a beer, trying to drown the memory of lunch. The bell above the door chimed. Ding, ding… It was a sharp, piercing sound. Mikey didn’t even flinch, seemingly deaf to it. I looked up. A girl walked in. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She wore a faded white down coat and tapped the floor with a white cane. 12 What was a blind girl doing alone in a place like this? The diner was full of truckers—rough men, smoke, grease. The owner, a portly woman, hurried over. “Honey, are you lost?” The girl turned her head slightly, guided by the sound. “I need a room. A single.” Her voice was soft but clear. “We… we aren’t really set up for… look, there’s a chain hotel two streets over. Much safer,” the owner stammered. She didn’t want the liability. “I want to stay here,” the girl insisted. “It’s what I can afford.” Before the owner could argue, the door opened again. A gust of snow blew in. Slick and Twitch. Twitch looked even worse than before. His eyes were bloodshot, bulging. As soon as he saw the girl, he froze. His gaze crawled over her, disgusting and palpable. The girl sensed the new presence. She shrank back, fumbling to hand her ID and cash to the owner. The owner, sensing the tension, quickly ushered the girl toward the stairs. Twitch watched them go, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 13 “Mikey.” I shoved five hundred bucks into the kid’s hand. “Go to the owner. Tell her to move that girl to the hotel down the street. I’m paying.” Mikey blinked, confused, but saw the look on my face and scrambled off. Twitch whipped his head around, staring at me with those dead, frantic eyes. I slammed my hand on the table. “What are you looking at? Sit down. We’re drinking.” Slick glanced between me and his brother. He knew I wouldn’t let them leave that room until the girl was gone. Mikey came back, nodding to indicate the girl was safe. I kept the brothers at the table until midnight. Slick talked shop, trying to fish for details about the payout. Twitch just drank. He poured cheap whiskey down his throat until the veins in his neck looked like they were going to burst. Finally, Slick dragged his brother to their room next door. I helped Mikey upstairs. The kid passed out the second he hit the mattress. 14 That night, the nightmare found me. I wasn’t in the motel. I was back in the truck, parked in pitch blackness. A figure, dripping wet, approached the window. The voice sounded like sandpaper on bone. “Driver… when do we leave?” I tried to open my eyes, but they were glued shut. “Driver… it’s so stuffy in the bag. I can’t breathe.” Panic set in. I could smell the cargo. The brine. The rot. Then, something cold and slimy wrapped around my throat. Wet hair. But it wasn’t just hair—it was matted with scales and chunks of raw meat. It tightened. Ding, ding… The bell. Was the girl back? My heart hammered against my ribs. She shouldn’t be here. Twitch was a powder keg. I thrashed in the dream, finally tearing the wet hair from my neck. I woke up gasping. 15 The room was silent. Gray morning light filtered through the dirty curtains. No bell. Just a nightmare. Mikey was curled in a fetal ball, shivering. I shook him awake. “Wash up. We move in ten.” We walked out into the hallway just as Slick opened his door. “Morning, Dutch.” I grunted, intending to walk past. But my eyes caught the inside of their room. Two beds. One was a mess of tangled sheets. The other was pristine. Unslept in. Where was Twitch? Slick saw me looking. He smirked, a lewd, knowing expression. “He found his own way back. Guess the little lady has a thing for bad boys. Don’t be a prude, Dutch.” 16 “What did you say?” I grabbed Slick by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Hey! Easy! They’re consenting adults!” Slick yelped. “I swear to god…” Mikey grabbed my arm, holding me back. The commotion brought the motel owner running up the stairs. “What is going on?!” I spun on her. “The blind girl. Did she come back? Which room?” She looked terrified. “The… the utility room at the end of the hall. She said she forgot something…” I threw Slick aside and sprinted down the hallway. I knew what Twitch was capable of. I knew about Jamie. Slick chased after me. “He hasn’t had a woman in years! Don’t ruin this for him—” Before he could finish, a scream tore through the building.

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On my twenty-third birthday, I was preparing to confess my feelings to Julian. But he beat me to it, falling in love at first sight with my roommate. I watched them break up and get back together, endlessly entangled. Finally, I gave up completely and started dating someone else. The day I announced my new relationship on Facebook, everyone offered genuine congratulations. Julian never showed up. It wasn’t until the next day that someone brought it up in front of him. “Did you see that post? What do you think of Summer’s new boyfriend?” The man leaned back diagonally on the sofa, glancing at me upon hearing the question. After a long time, he finally spoke slowly, “Oh, he’s average.” 1 As soon as Julian finished speaking, the room fell silent for a moment. Everyone’s eyes turned to me. Some watched from the sidelines, while others looked worried and anxious. In this day and age, everyone loves posting short videos and status updates. Two people standing shoulder to shoulder, smiling and clearly in love—who wouldn’t want to hear others call them a perfect match? But Julian had to be the one to bluntly evaluate him as, “Oh, average.” He was a guy who, despite having a bit of a temper, was usually very polite in his dealings with others. Acting like this now… it was as if he was deliberately trying to embarrass me. Suppressing the anger in my heart, I asked him. “What’s wrong with my boyfriend?” In fact, Evan is very handsome. Even my picky mother couldn’t help but compliment him after meeting him. “Compared to your friend named Julian, he doesn’t fall short at all.” I stared at Julian, my expression showing my displeasure. But he suddenly let out a tired smile. Then he glanced at me, “Just a casual remark, don’t take it to heart.” “Bring him around sometime when you’re free.” With that, he stood up without hesitation and left. He didn’t spare me another half a glance. So, someone tried to comfort me, saying, “Tsk, almost forgot. He just went through a breakup with his girlfriend, so he’s probably feeling really frustrated right now.” “It’s fine. Aren’t they always like this? They’ll be back together in a few days.” Saying this, the person glanced at me. “Don’t you think so, Summer?” I spaced out for a moment. “Yeah, that’s right.” They had been entangled for so long; how could they separate so easily? Over the past few years, I had hoped time and time again, only to be disappointed time and time again. I should have understood this long ago, shouldn’t I? 2 Coming out of the private room, I saw Julian smoking not far away. He rarely did that. Because Mia didn’t like it. He was acting really out of character tonight. I was still angry about what happened earlier, so I didn’t speak to him and walked straight outside. But I hadn’t even taken two steps before someone grabbed my wrist. I turned around and met a pair of cold, indifferent eyes. Even when I first met him, I heard people say that Julian, the famous young master of the Vance family, had been raised as the heir since childhood. He was precious and privileged. The people who wanted to date him could form a line around the block, but he never gave anyone a second look. Later, when Julian and I became close, everyone praised my good luck. For all these years, I was the only female friend by his side. Inevitably, some people made snide remarks: “Who knows if one day she’ll go from friend to girlfriend, flying up to a higher branch and becoming Mrs. Vance?” It wasn’t that I hadn’t dreamed that beautiful dream. But later, when Mia appeared, I realized she was his true destiny. He had remained single for over twenty years, all to wait for her. As for me, I was just lucky enough to be acquainted with him. Under the dim light, he stared at me, his expression somewhat careless. He said. “How did you meet?” I didn’t react immediately, freezing for a moment. He patiently repeated himself. “I mean, how did you meet that guy?” 3 It was a cold, snowy day. Julian instinctively turned his body to block the cold wind blowing from afar for me. I looked at his features and remained silent for a moment. “We met while traveling. I thought he was pretty nice, so we got together.” There is a phrase called “perfect timing.” That probably describes Evan and me. Hearing this, Julian lifted his eyelids. “Traveling? When did you go out to play? How come I didn’t know?” I smiled, “Just last month.” He probably no longer remembered that one night last month, he called me late, saying he and Mia had a fight and she had angrily gone abroad. He said: “You two are the closest, go over and talk to her. In a foreign country, if she insists on staying there, she’ll suffer grievances.” I packed my bags overnight and traveled thousands of miles with him, but shortly after landing, he received news that Mia had already gone somewhere else. Round trip, it was over a dozen hours of travel. I happened to get a high fever and couldn’t accompany him on his frantic journey anymore. He had no choice but to leave me behind and go look for Mia. After he left, I stood by the riverbank, looking at the bright moon on the other side, and suddenly felt exhausted. To stay by his side, I had given up a stable job in my hometown. Even when my father was hospitalized last year, I couldn’t be by his side. Time is ruthless. What had I gained, and what had I lost? No one knew. My thoughts returning, I looked at Julian in front of me and spoke very calmly. “Are you done asking? I have to go.” He froze. After a long time, he finally spoke again. “Lend me your phone for a second. Mia blocked me.” Actually, I really wanted to ask—with so many people in the private room, did you have to ask to borrow mine? But I didn’t say it in the end. After all, all those feelings of joy, sadness, and despair, from beginning to end, were known only to me. In his eyes, I was a perfect friend, completely unrelated to romance. I took out my phone and handed it to him. He took it and walked to the side to make a call. They talked for quite a while. When Julian came back, his expression was no longer as tense as before. His eyes held a smile as he handed the phone back to me. Just then, a message suddenly popped up on the screen. Evan: [I’m returning to Seattle at the end of the month.] In an instant, the smile on Julian’s face vanished. He frowned, his voice flat: “Your relationship seems pretty good.” 4 Since I had decided to let go, I began intentionally distancing myself from Julian’s circle. I muted these people’s posts on social media. And I stopped going to the places they frequented. One day, Julian messaged me. [Your birthday is in a couple of days. Want to come check out the venue?] He was very generous. Every time a friend had a birthday, he would put his all into helping organize it. I wasn’t the first, nor was I the only one. But to this day, I still remember that on my twenty-third birthday, Julian pointed to Mia not far away and asked me, “Is that your friend? Give me her WeChat.” A talented man and a beautiful woman, a perfect match. I guess they should thank me, the matchmaker. Later, I heard someone ask Julian, why did it have to be Mia? At the time, he was texting Mia. Hearing the question, he smiled, raised his eyebrows, and said, “She was wearing a red dress that day. I’ve rarely seen anyone wear that color so well.” But who would remember that I also wore a red dress that day? For many years after that, I never touched clothes in that color again. Thinking of this, I typed. [I’ve been busy lately. No need.] He took a long time to reply. [Busy dating?] I replied, [Yeah.] After sending that message, he didn’t reply again. However, his best friend, Liam, sent me a voice message, saying playfully, “Wow, you’re amazing, Summer. Julian put a lot of effort into planning your birthday party this time. We all stayed up late for several nights helping out, and you just decide not to come. He’s furious, hahaha.” I gave a brief, casual reply. Just then, a red notification popped up on my email. I clicked it. It was an employment offer. I thought about it, feeling a bit happy, and messaged Evan. [Once I finish handing over my current work, I can process my resignation. We can go back to Portland together then.] He replied, [Okay.] This guy looked serious and spoke meticulously. But looking at this one word. I inexplicably smiled. 5 Neither Evan nor I were very talkative people; we only chatted when there was something to say. But I didn’t expect him to return early. He came back specifically to celebrate my birthday with me. In an elegantly decorated western restaurant, he handed me a gift bag. “Sorry, I only found out it was your birthday today after seeing your mom’s post.” After we decided to be together, we quickly met each other’s parents, planning to get engaged once we returned to Portland. Lately, my mom kept telling me: “Evan is a good guy. He often sends me things. You should treat him well.” Halfway through the meal, Evan went out to take a call. After he left, I looked down at my phone. I happened to see a post from Liam. [Someone save me!? Julian is acting crazy today, insisting on a drinking contest with me. I’m about to drink myself to death here, and his face isn’t even red. I can’t survive this.] Liam had a lively personality and often posted things like this, so I wasn’t too surprised when I read those words. I was just a little surprised. That day outside the private room, Julian borrowed my phone to call Mia, and they had clearly reconciled. Acting like this now, did they fall out again? You couldn’t blame me for thinking this way. Julian’s life had been smooth sailing; aside from love, he would absolutely never suffer any hardship elsewhere. Just as I thought this, a phone call came in. It was Liam. We had a pretty good relationship, and I was afraid something had really happened to him, so I answered it immediately. His voice was drunk. “Hey, I’m telling you, Julian is simply not human…” Halfway through, his voice got quieter and quieter until it disappeared. I called his name twice. There was no response. Just as I was about to hang up, someone finally spoke. It was Julian. His voice was cold, a little hoarse. “This guy couldn’t hold his liquor and passed out on the table. It’s nothing serious.” I said: “Oh, as long as everything’s fine.” He was silent for a moment, then asked, “What about you? How was your day? Are you happy?” I was just about to answer when Evan returned from outside and asked who I was talking to. I said. “A friend.” When I looked down again, the call had already been hung up. 6 After hanging up, I felt a little unsettled. Evan pushed the cut steak in front of me, his movements natural and elegant. “What’s wrong? Is there an emergency at work?” He was always like this, emotionally stable and very measured. He would never be like Julian, moody over trivial things, needing to be coaxed and pampered. Looking at Evan’s calm eyes, the annoyance in my heart suddenly dissipated for the most part. “It’s nothing. Just an ordinary friend who drank too much and is acting crazy.” Evan smiled and didn’t ask any more questions, just poured me a glass of warm water. “Drink some water, soothe your throat.” The meal was very pleasant. As we were finishing, Evan pulled a velvet box from his pocket. The pendant was a very translucent jade stone in the shape of a peace buckle. Just looking at it made you feel at ease. He put it on me, his warm fingertips brushing against my neck. “Summer, happy birthday. I wish you peace and safety year after year.” No grand vows, no earth-shattering fanfare. Just this simple, unadorned “peace and safety year after year.” I touched the peace buckle, my eyes feeling a little hot. These past few years by Julian’s side, I had seen too much extravagance and received too many expensive but cold luxury items. But I had never experienced this kind of grounded warmth. It was 10 PM by the time I got home. Evan walked me to the lobby of my apartment building, politely kissed my forehead, and left. I had just turned around to go upstairs when a harsh screeching of brakes came from behind. Followed by rapid footsteps. My wrist was grabbed tightly, with a force that felt like it would crush my bones. I turned my head in pain and met Julian’s bloodshot eyes. He smelled of alcohol and looked a bit disheveled, completely devoid of his usual aloof, aristocratic demeanor. “That guy… is your boyfriend?” His voice was terribly hoarse, as if filled with gravel. I frowned and tried to pull my hand away. “Julian, you’re hurting me. Let go.” Not only did he not let go, but his grip tightened, his eyes locked dead on the necklace around my neck. The peace buckle shone with a gentle glow under the streetlight, but it seemed to sting his eyes. “What’s so great about this broken rock? How much is it worth?” He sneered, his tone full of disdain. “If you like jewelry, I have a bunch. Cartier, Bvlgari, pick whatever you want. How can you wear this cheap junk out in public?” Listening to his cruel words, the anger in my heart “whooshed” right up. How come I never realized he had such a mean mouth before? “Julian, this is a token of my boyfriend’s affection. In my eyes, it’s priceless.” I looked at him coldly. “Also, it’s late. If you’ve had too much to drink, go home and sleep. Don’t come here acting crazy.” Julian froze for a moment, as if he didn’t expect me to speak to him like that. The old Summer was always soft-spoken and completely obedient to him. If he even frowned, I’d be anxious for a long time. But now, the way I looked at him was like looking at an unreasonable stranger. This realization made him even more frustrated. He leaned in abruptly, pinning me against the wall of the lobby. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with tobacco rushed over me, making me instinctively hold my breath. “Summer, are you getting back at me?” He stared into my eyes, asking through gritted teeth. “Because I said he was ‘average’ before? So you deliberately brought him to make me mad? That guy looks like a bookworm. Aside from being decent-looking, how does he compare to me?” I laughed out of extreme anger. “Julian, do you think the whole world revolves around you?” “I’m dating for my own happiness, not to make you mad, and certainly not to get back at you. You aren’t that important to me.” As soon as this sentence came out, the air seemed to solidify. Julian’s pupils contracted sharply, a flash of astonishment on his face, followed by a deeper gloom. “Not that important?” He repeated those words as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. “Summer, you ran after me for seven years. And now you’re telling me I’m not important?” He let go of my wrist, but suddenly reached out to yank the necklace from my neck. “Since it’s not important, take off this piece of junk! It’s an eyesore!” “Are you crazy?!” I panicked and desperately tried to protect the necklace. During the struggle, the red string snapped. The peace buckle fell to the ground with a “smack,” rolled twice, and split in half. The world instantly went quiet. I looked at the shattered jade on the ground, my heart feeling like it had been viciously stabbed by something. That was the first birthday gift Evan gave me. It represented his blessing of “peace and safety year after year.” And just like that, Julian destroyed it. I slowly crouched down and picked up the two pieces of broken jade, the sharp edges biting into my palm. When I looked up again, I stared at Julian, the last bit of warmth vanishing from my eyes. “Julian, you are truly disgusting.” After saying that, I didn’t spare him another glance, turned around, and went upstairs. Behind me, I heard Julian’s somewhat panicked shout: “Summer…” I slammed the lobby door shut heavily, isolating his voice in the night. 7 The next day, I took time off work to go get the peace buckle fixed. The master craftsman said it could be repaired using the gold-inlaid jade technique, but there would always be a crack. Just like my relationship with Julian—it was completely shattered, and no matter how it was repaired, it could never go back to the way it was. When I returned to the office, I happened to run into Liam joking around with the receptionist. Seeing me, his eyes lit up, and he came over. “Hey, Summer, you’re looking good today. Did Julian go see you last night?” I subtly avoided his touch and said lightly, “Yeah, came and threw a drunken fit.” The smile on Liam’s face froze for a second, then he laughed awkwardly. “Hey, you know how Julian is, right? Tough talker, soft heart. He drank too much last night and kept muttering your name. He actually still cares about you…” “Liam.” I cut him off, my tone calm. “I’ve already submitted my resignation. I’m leaving next month.” Liam’s eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. “Holy shit? Resigning? Where are you going? Does Julian know?” “Going back to my hometown, or to another city. Haven’t decided yet. As for whether Julian knows, it has nothing to do with me.” I didn’t want to waste any more breath on him, turned around, and went into the office. Not long after, Julian called. I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I also deleted his WeChat. These actions flowed smoothly. After doing them, I felt completely refreshed. Since I had decided to cut ties, I would cut them cleanly. In the afternoon, while I was handing over my work, the receptionist said someone was looking for me. I thought it was Evan and ran out smiling, but it turned out to be Mia. She wore a high-end designer suit, carrying a limited-edition bag, still exuding her usual aloof goddess vibe. Seeing me, she took off her sunglasses, looked me up and down, and a mocking smile touched her lips. “I heard you’re resigning? What, did Julian break your heart so much you’re planning to run away?” I looked at her, my heart completely undisturbed. I used to think she was my romantic rival, an insurmountable mountain between Julian and me. Now it seemed she was just a pitiful person spoiled rotten by Julian. “Ms. Mia, if you don’t have any actual business, I’m going to get back to work.” I didn’t want to engage with her and turned to leave. “Stop right there!” Mia stomped her high heels and blocked my path, her face looking a bit ugly. “Summer, stop pretending. Do you think playing hard to get works on Julian? He did go to see you last night, but when he came back, he told me you were just a plaything he could summon and dismiss at will.” She raised her chin, as if asserting dominance. “He and I are destined to get married. With your status, you’re not even worthy to carry his shoes.” Watching her try to act tough while feeling insecure, I suddenly found it a bit funny. “Mia, are you in such a rush to assert dominance because Julian called my name last night?” Mia’s face turned pale; I had clearly hit the nail on the head. I smiled and continued, “Don’t worry, I have no interest in your Julian. I’ve already thrown that man away. If you like picking up trash, hold on tight, and don’t let him out to disgust people anymore.” “Who are you calling trash?!” Mia raised her hand in a flustered rage, trying to slap me. But her wrist was intercepted mid-air. By a slender, powerful hand. Evan had arrived at some point. He was wearing simple casual clothes, but his presence was overwhelming. He threw Mia’s hand aside, protected me behind him, and his eyes were icy. “Miss, please show some self-respect.” Mia rubbed her wrist and glared at Evan. “And who are you? This is between her and me. It’s none of your business to interfere!” “I am Summer’s fiancé.” Evan’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm and resounding. “Her business is my business. If you dare touch her again, I wouldn’t mind having security escort you out.” Mia probably hadn’t seen such a tough man before, and she was stunned for a moment. At this moment, there was a commotion at the lobby entrance. Julian strode in, followed by a breathless Liam. Seeing this scene, Julian’s face instantly darkened. He quickly walked over to Mia’s side but locked his gaze dead on me. “Summer, what is the meaning of this? Blocking my calls, deleting my WeChat, and now ganging up with an outsider to bully Mia?” I peeked out from behind Evan, looking at this man who couldn’t tell right from wrong, feeling only ridiculous. “Julian, which eye did you use to see me bully her? She was the one who came to my company to cause a scene and even tried to hit me. What, are only the privileged allowed to act out, while the rest of us just have to take it?” Julian frowned and looked at Mia. Mia immediately put on a wronged expression and clung to Julian’s arm. “Julian, I just heard Summer was leaving and wanted to come say goodbye. Who knew she would say such awful things and even call you… call you trash.” Julian’s face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot. He stared at me, gritting his teeth: “You called me trash?” I fearlessly met his gaze. “Is it not true? Eating from the bowl while eyeing the pot, clearly having a girlfriend but still coming to harass your ‘ex-friend’. Julian, if you aren’t trash, what are you?” “Good, very good.” Julian laughed out of extreme anger, saying the word “good” twice. He pointed at Evan, his eyes sinister. “You’re falling out with me over a man like this? Summer, don’t you regret this!” I clung tightly to Evan’s arm, smiling openly. “The biggest regret of my life was meeting you. As for Evan, he is a thousand, ten thousand times better than you.” It was as if Julian had been viciously slapped across the face; his complexion turned a mix of pale and green. He stared fixedly at my hand holding Evan’s arm, emotions I couldn’t understand churning in his eyes. Like anger, but also like… panic.

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I was born with a naturally high-pitched, sweet voice. To many, I sounded incredibly fake and overly precious. My childhood friend, Liam, loved to mock me for it. He jokingly referred to me to the whole class as his “little delicate trophy wife.” A classmate mimicked my voice, exaggerating the pitch: “Oh, little squeaker, Liam doesn’t actually like girls who act this fake.” I shook my head. “I’m not trying to be anything for anyone. This is just how my voice sounds.” “Why are you trying to force me to change who I am?” Her face froze, her mouth opening to argue. I cut her off. “Or are you just jealous of me?” She was speechless, glaring at me with pure resentment. I stood up, adjusted my pink scarf, picked up my textbook, and brushed past her shoulder. A dozen pairs of eyes followed me. They locked onto my pink watch. “Chloe is so incredibly fake.” “I bet even her underwear is pink.” The tiny, dense whispers flowed continuously into my ears. I silently opened my textbook and said in my soft, quiet voice, “It’s morning reading time. Please stop gossiping.” The chattering stopped for a few seconds, only to erupt even louder. It felt like they were doing it just to spite me. “Her voice is so strained it’s probably going to give out. She sounds like an old witch.” “Does she actually think anyone finds that baby voice cute?” Liam sat in the corner, watching me lazily, a smirk playing on his lips. He always seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I scanned the classroom and slapped my hand hard on the podium. “If you have a problem, take it up with the teacher.” The classroom finally fell silent. By the time morning reading ended, a layer of sweat had broken out on my forehead. Returning to my seat, I felt a bit dazed. The mocking words and sneering looks from earlier replayed on an endless loop in my mind. Even though this was far from the first time, I still needed a thick skin to endure it. I led the morning reading once a week. And just because I liked the color pink and had a soft, high-pitched voice… I was treated like a freak in my own class. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder. I didn’t turn around, continuing to organize my desk. Liam shoved a carton of strawberry milk into my hand, raising an eyebrow. “Chloe, you’re not going to cry, are you?” His words sounded comforting, but his expression betrayed an unmistakable thrill of excitement. I quietly handed the milk back to him. His eyes darkened, his mood souring instantly. “I thought you liked pink? What’s wrong, did a few words really break your fragile little heart?” “Look, your voice is pretty fake, but I’m used to it…” I slammed the milk onto the floor. “I don’t need it.” Secretive glances darted our way; half the class was suddenly very interested in our conversation. The veins in Liam’s neck bulged, his expression turning cold. “Chloe, stop being such a drama queen.” I stood up and walked around him to go to the restroom. He stuck right by my side, his shoulder brushing my back, speaking through gritted teeth. “Chloe, what is your problem today?” “Are you actually mad?” I stopped dead in my tracks, my fists clenched tight. I stopped so abruptly that Liam couldn’t react in time and almost tripped over his own feet. He looked annoyed. “If you insist on wearing pink, you have to be prepared for people to talk trash.” “This is the STEM track. It’s not some humanities class full of girls.” I cut him off. “Liam, are you done talking?” He yanked on a strand of my hair, making my scalp sting. “There you go, acting like a baby again.” “Little squeaker, you…” I fiercely swatted his hand away. “You’re psychotic. What does my favorite color have to do with you?” Leaving that sentence hanging in the air, I walked into the girls’ restroom. From outside the door, I could hear Liam’s furious voice. “You act like such a weirdo! Who else is going to pity you besides me?!” He kept rambling, continuously trying to tear me down. I pulled a tissue from my pocket to wipe my sweat. The pink bunny printed on the packaging suddenly felt glaring, making my eyes ache. I just didn’t understand. When I chose the STEM track, Liam was incredibly surprised. That day, he tugged on my backpack strap, looking both thrilled and arrogant. “You got put in the same class as me.” I froze, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I was good at math and science, so of course, I chose STEM. But I didn’t want to share a classroom with him. An emotion I couldn’t decipher swirled in Liam’s eyes. He spoke to me like a scolding parent: “Since you chose STEM, you shouldn’t wear so much pink anymore.” I was stunned. He looked down his nose at me. “Not everyone is going to spoil you like I do.” I yanked my backpack strap out of his grip and frowned at him. “I’ll wear whatever I want.” Liam’s voice dropped. “Then don’t come crying to me later.” I stared at him in disbelief. I had known Liam for over a decade. He always loved lecturing me about being “too soft.” He was constantly trying to make me cry, to make me submit to him. In elementary school, I had a pink water bottle. He scraped the paint off of it just to mess with me. “Chloe, your bottle isn’t pink anymore. Are you still gonna drink from it?” The bottle showed patches of cold, ugly silver metal. Liam looked incredibly smug. “Are you gonna cry?” I bit my lip, fought back my tears, and got so mad I actually got into a physical fight with him. Afterward, he wore that fight like a badge of honor, constantly repeating, “See? You don’t need pink.” Someone once pointed out to him: “She’s just faking it to get attention.” Liam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Chloe is just a fake, precious girl.” I had sniffled and run out of the classroom, totally devastated. The emotional blow was so severe that for a while, just seeing the color pink gave me anxiety. I was terrified of Liam calling me fake, and terrified of my classmates’ mockery. I started wearing black and white clothes and stopped using anything pink. But Liam just laughed again. “Your voice is so soft and weak, it constantly sounds like you’re whining for attention.” My palms turned ice cold. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, completely lost. From that day on, I didn’t dare speak up in class, and I stopped making eye contact with my classmates. My dad noticed something was wrong and sat me down for a long talk. “Chloe, why don’t you like pink anymore? And why haven’t you been talking to me…” I blinked, and the tears I had been holding back finally fell, drip, drop, soaking his suit jacket. “Dad, liking pink is a mistake.” “Why does my voice sound like this? It’s so high and squeaky.” My dad sighed. “You were born with that voice. It’s a gift you inherited from your mother.” “If you care too much about what other people think, you’ll never be happy.” I wiped my tears. “But they all say I’m faking it.” He pulled a brand-new pink water bottle from behind his back. “Pink is a very soft color,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to be as fierce as a sunflower, or as glamorous as a rose.” “Just being a cute, pretty pink flower is perfectly fine.” The dark clouds in my heart finally parted. Liking pink wasn’t a mistake. The next time Liam tried to provoke me, he realized I was bulletproof. He pulled my hair and stole my pink hair clips. I kept my eyes facing forward and treated him like he didn’t exist. Liam muttered in frustration, “Why aren’t you crying?” I just scoffed, and went right back to wearing the brightest pinks and speaking in my naturally soft voice as I walked around campus. I thought that as we grew older, people would stop gossiping about me. I didn’t realize that in the STEM track, pink was basically a taboo. After we split into our specialized tracks, my class was 70% boys. They usually wore black, white, or gray. When I walked into the classroom carrying a bunch of pink school supplies, I instantly drew everyone’s attention. People started whispering. I silently walked to my seat. When it was my turn to introduce myself, my high, soft voice triggered a wave of laughter. “Oh my god, so precious. It’s giving me goosebumps.” “Why didn’t she choose the humanities track? She doesn’t look like someone who’s good at math.” The teacher tried to smooth things over. “Chloe’s voice just sounds a bit like a little girl’s.” I said flatly, “I am a girl.” The room fell dead silent. I casually sat down, my eyes briefly sweeping over Liam in the corner. He looked arrogant and mocking, as if to say: [See? Wearing pink in a STEM class is insane.] [No one is going to accept you except me.] And it seemed like his words were a self-fulfilling prophecy. Taking my turn as the weekly morning reading leader turned me into the class joke. The walk from my desk to the podium felt like miles. Whenever I stood up there, I would hear the word “squeaker” whispered in the crowd. Some people even theorized that I was putting on this “fake” persona because I liked Liam. That I was doing it on purpose to get his attention. Liam never defended me. Instead, he insisted on bringing me a carton of strawberry milk every single day, loudly declaring: “I’m doing you a favor, proving you aren’t completely repulsive to everyone.” He watched my embarrassment with pure amusement. He was trying to play the hero in a crisis he helped create. No matter how many times I rejected him, he just assumed I was playing hard to get or throwing a cute tantrum. I shoved the tissue back into my pocket. I was so utterly sick of him sticking to me like gum on a shoe. I left the restroom but didn’t dare go back to the classroom until the bell rang. Where the teacher was, people didn’t look at me like I was an alien. I took a deep breath and opened my textbook. A folded note suddenly landed on my desk. “Class committee team-building dinner tomorrow night. Don’t be absent.” My shoulders slumped as I tried to think of an excuse to get out of it. Before I could even decline after class, the Class President, who sat behind me, specifically warned me: “Chloe, you better not ditch us.” I forced a smile. “I have a family emergency.” Her eyes darted around. “But Liam said you were free.” “Aren’t you guys neighbors?” Liam sat in the corner, his expression dark and brooding. He was radiating a miserable aura because I had stood up to him earlier. I pressed my lips together, my expression turning cold. “He doesn’t live in my house.” The President patted my shoulder. “However you need to handle it, you have to come tomorrow night! There’s a surprise!” With that, she sprinted away. I frowned, completely at a loss, and immediately texted her to reiterate my stance. [I’m not going. Don’t wait for me.] The President replied with a barrage of texts trying to persuade me. I ignored all of them. The next afternoon, the moment school ended, I headed straight for the door. I had barely taken three steps when two pairs of hands clamped down on my shoulders. I spun around, breaking into a cold sweat. The loudest girls in the class were holding me in place. They smiled, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “Don’t run off! We’re just waiting for you.” I rarely got angry, but I started struggling fiercely. “I said I’m not going!” They dragged me toward a waiting car. “Stop being so shy.” “There’s a surprise waiting for you.” The KTV room was bathed in flashing neon lights, the bass from the speakers hurting my eardrums. I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and sank into the corner of the sofa, pretending to be dead. They were playing drinking games, making a massive, rowdy scene. Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand. “Chloe, you got the Dare!” I frowned deeply. “I wasn’t even playing! How did I get chosen?!” “Liam drew for you! You guys are childhood sweethearts, right?” My chest heaved with anger. I turned to glare at Liam. He was staring right back at me, a mix of frustration and amusement in his eyes. I refused this unsolicited proxy. “He doesn’t represent me.” The room erupted in dramatic gasps. “Chloe, don’t be a buzzkill.” “Stop acting so fragile. Can’t you just be a good sport like the other girls?” The President grabbed my hand. “The dare is super easy. You just have to sing a love song duet with Liam.” “Your voice is so sweet, I bet you sound amazing when you sing.” The girls exchanged looks, giggling mockingly. Goosebumps broke out over my arms. I yanked my hand back, stood up, and tried to head for the door. The President instigated, “Liam, it looks like Chloe doesn’t want to sing with you.” The next second, a harsh, grating sound pierced the room. Liam kicked the glass coffee table hard, his voice dripping with annoyance. “Who wants to sing with this fake squeaker anyway?” “I’m afraid her voice is gonna make my ears bleed.” My hand froze on the doorknob. My eyes went wide. Laughter erupted behind me. “I told you Liam didn’t actually like her.” Liam snapped irritably, “Just get out of here.” I took a slow, deep breath. I whipped around, grabbed a glass of beer off the table, and hurled the liquid straight at his chest. My voice was shaking with rage, pitching even higher and softer than usual. “Liam, is this how you get off? By trying to humiliate me?” The room went dead silent. The only sound was the backing track playing on the TV. I spoke clearly, emphasizing every single word: “Who do you think you are to make decisions for me? To me, you’re not even a random extra in the background of my life.” He wiped the alcohol off his face, looking pathetic, his eyes burning with fury. I pushed the door open and walked out quickly. I didn’t let myself cry until I was out the front doors of the building. My tears dried in the wind, only to be replaced by fresh ones. The bitter winter wind whipped down my collar. I pulled my pink scarf tighter and walked home with my head down. Liam initiated a unilateral cold war against me. Whenever I was working on advanced Physics competition problems, he would make snide, sour comments: “A brain like yours is only built for reading poetry.” “Do you girls even understand what those equations mean?” I would simply put my pen down and pull out my English vocabulary flashcards to memorize. Seeing that I was genuinely treating him like thin air, Liam would violently kick my desk and storm off in a rage. The class held a “Peer Review” activity. I went to the restroom, and when I came back, I found my name written on the blackboard. Next to it was a title: [The Delicate Little Squeaker Wife] My eyes went bloodshot. I ran up to the board and yelled, “Who wrote this?!” My classmates covered their mouths, snickering. Liam leaned back in his chair and raised his hand. “I did.” He taunted me, “Doesn’t that title fit you perfectly? You’re fake, you squeak…” My blood ran cold. My hands turned to ice. He started counting my flaws on his fingers. “You love to cry, and you sound like you’re moaning in bed when you talk…” I charged down the aisle like an enraged bull and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. Liam cursed loudly, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Chloe, you actually hit me…” Halfway through his sentence, he met my eyes and quickly looked away. “So fragile…” He kicked his desk in frustration and stormed out of the classroom. The people around me started whispering again. “The squeaker failed to seduce Liam…” “She’s so fake. If I were him, I wouldn’t like her either.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I spun around instantly and marched straight up to that group. “How do you know I like Liam?” They jumped, their eyes going wide. “Squeaker, what’s your problem?” I pointed to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “If what you just said is true, then I’m reporting you for stalking and spying on me.” “If it’s false, then you’re spreading malicious rumors.” The group’s faces cycled between red and pale. They stammered, “We didn’t say anything.” “It was just a joke…”

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“The ‘child-free’ decision was a mistake. Mom’s getting old; there’s no more time to wait.” “How many months?” I looked up at my husband, Eason Reed. “What?” “Your bastard child.” Eason’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I was planning to find someone to have a baby. If you mind, once the child is a little older, I can bring them home for you to raise.” “Pfft…” I scoffed. “What a coincidence! A bastard child, our dad has one already. Why not just bring that one home?” 1. “What did you say?” Eason’s pupils constricted. “What do you mean, ‘our dad has one’?” I didn’t rush to answer. Instead, I slowly pulled a stack of photos from the drawer. Each one showed a mother and child. “This woman originally planned to cause a scene with Mom, but Mom just had heart bypass surgery last month and can’t handle stress. I stopped her.” Eason’s face turned ashen. He snatched the photos. “Nonsense! Dad, at his age, how could he be so foolish! We absolutely cannot let Mom find out about this!” I looked at him, feigning innocence. “Our dad has a child in his later years. Aren’t you happy for him? That’s your biological brother, after all. He’ll inherit the company someday too.” “Brother?” Eason’s mouth twitched. “Do you hear yourself? That’s an illegitimate child! A shameful bastard! What right does he have to be on equal footing with me?” I met his gaze, a smile in my eyes. “Honey, are you perhaps a little too nervous? Having a brother could help you share the burden. You should be happy.” “This way, we won’t have to go through all the trouble of finding a surrogate.” Eason froze abruptly. Observing his expression, I could more or less guess what had happened. When a child can’t hold it, they’ve already made a mess. When a man confesses, he’s already been to bed with someone else. So, he wasn’t asking for my opinion; he was telling me his decision. Three seconds later, he grabbed his jacket. “I’ll look into this. If it’s true, then we have a huge problem!” The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. Rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway. I slowly pulled out my phone. “Follow him. Once you have clear photos, send them to me.” Hanging up, I leaned back into the sofa, gazing out at the night sky. The decision to be child-free had been a mutual agreement eighteen years ago. Back then, he’d said children were a burden, an encumbrance. He didn’t want to be tied down for life by a ‘ball and chain.’ We were to be an ideal couple, traveling the world, seeing every mountain and river. I believed him. And I poured all my energy into the family business. Eighteen years later. I had long since lost the ability to become a mother. But men were different. They could change their minds at any time. Now, the matriarch of the family was ill and suddenly remembered the important duty of continuing the family line. And Eason, in a burst of filial piety, also felt that a life without children was incomplete. How utterly absurd. Back then, everyone criticized me, saying that having children was the lowest form of ‘poverty alleviation.’ Women shouldn’t dream of getting something for nothing by just using their womb. I thought that by holding the steering wheel of my life, I could avoid a mutual defeat. But no one ever told me. In life’s multiple-choice questions, no matter which path you take, it’s a dead end. My time was running out. I needed more help and more evidence. Otherwise, my fate would be terrible. The next second, I grabbed my car keys and headed to the hospital. Since Eason’s mother was so fond of children, how could I let her down? The woman in the bed wasn’t particularly pleased to see me. “What are you doing here? Where’s Eason?” I offered a slight smile, pulling up a chair. “Him? He seems to be meeting someone. Oh, by the way, where’s Dad?” The old woman impatiently turned her head. “He left on a business trip yesterday.” She stretched lazily. “You don’t need to come anymore. The company is at a critical stage right now. Use this time to help out more. Lin here is enough to take care of me.” Lin? I looked at the caregiver standing nearby. 2. The young woman had always worn a mask, so I hadn’t paid much attention to her appearance. Now, looking closely, she seemed a bit heavy-set. “Lin,” I addressed her. “Go get some hot water and wash my mother’s feet.” “What?” The girl froze, standing rooted to the spot, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes. “What’s wrong?” I observed her movements. “You’ve been serving my mother for a week, and you’ve never washed her feet?” “What exactly do you do during your shifts?” “I… I…” She stammered, instinctively glancing at my mother-in-law on the bed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” The old woman slapped the bed frame. “Whether I want my feet washed is up to me, it has nothing to do with you! There’s nothing for you here, just leave!” In that moment, I felt like I was watching a dramatic family play unfold. This Lin, she was definitely not just an ordinary caregiver. The next second, my phone vibrated. The photos had arrived. On the screen, Eason sat in a corner of a coffee shop, glaring furiously at the woman opposite him. In the woman’s arms was a child, two or three years old. I stared at the photos, a scoff escaping my lips. Both women looked at me simultaneously. “What are you laughing at?” I looked up at the old woman on the bed. “Mom, our men are not being faithful. Eason’s gone and gotten himself a bastard child.” In my peripheral vision, Lin’s shoulders gave a tiny jerk, but she quickly regained her composure. The old woman sneered. “Elara, are you mistaken? A woman in her forties who can’t even bear a child, and you expect me to fight your battles for you?” “A bastard child? That status isn’t for you to decide, it’s for me to decide. Don’t be ungrateful. If I were you, I would have signed the papers and cleared out a long time ago!” As her words fell, Lin visibly relaxed. Indeed. With such strong backing from her mother-in-law, she could practically walk all over this family. But what if… there were several women walking all over the family? A crab convention? “Pfft…” I couldn’t help it; I laughed again. “Mom, I think you’ve misunderstood. The bastard child I’m talking about isn’t Eason’s; it’s Arthur Reed’s.” “What did you say?” Both women gasped simultaneously. “But you don’t need to panic.” I handed my phone to my mother-in-law. “Eason has already gone to deal with that mother and child. I’m sure he’ll handle it cleanly.” I paused, my finger gently zooming in on the photo on the screen. “Speaking of which, that boy… he really looks like Dad.” The old woman trembled as she took the phone, her face ashen, one hand repeatedly clutching her chest. “How could this be… how could this be…” Lin frantically rushed forward, snatching the phone. “Madam, deep breaths! Please don’t get agitated. It’s not that bad yet! When Eason gets back, we can…” “Eason?” I interrupted her with a smile. “You might be mistaken. The one actually transferring assets isn’t Eason; it’s Arthur Reed.” I leaned in closer to my mother-in-law. “Mom, please take care of yourself. We’re counting on you to get back to the company and investigate this thoroughly. You absolutely cannot collapse at this point, or it will truly benefit that mother and child.” As my words fell, the old woman’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She slumped backward. Lin was completely panicked. She frantically lunged for the call button by the bed. “Quick! Someone! Bed 601 is in distress!” I rushed forward to help support her. “Mom, don’t get so agitated. Don’t you like children? They’re all Reed family blood, no matter whose offspring they are, you should treat them equally…” “You shut your mouth!” Lin spun around furiously, swinging a hand at me. My eyes narrowed. I raised my hand, caught her wrist, and squeezed hard. “What do you think you are? A caregiver, daring to lay a hand on me?” The next second, I shoved her. She stumbled backward, crashing straight into the nearby medical cabinet. But as she fell, her hands desperately shielded her abdomen. “Help! My baby!” A piercing scream cut through the entire hospital room. I gasped. A baby? 3. Just then, the doctor, along with several nurses, rushed in. And the old woman on the bed had already rolled her eyes back, convulsing. “Patient is in cardiac arrest! Quick, prepare the defibrillator! Epinephrine stat!” The hospital room instantly erupted into chaos. My gaze coldly swept past the busy medical staff, landing on the woman on the floor. There was a baby in her belly. I closed my eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. One against four. I seemed to already see my own ending. This was a war I couldn’t possibly win. Eason would soon discover that the woman wasn’t Arthur Reed’s mistress. He would also realize that all of this was just a trap I had set. And then? He would be furious, he would retaliate, and he would throw me out. And this woman, clutching her abdomen, would move into my home with her illegitimate child, rightfully so. I opened my eyes, looking at the deep night outside the window. But to suffer in silence has never been my style. I was alone, with no attachments. No children to raise, no parents to look after, and no weakness for anyone to exploit. So, I wasn’t afraid. The next second, I pulled out my phone and dialed Eason. “Honey, Mom’s in the ICU.” “That caregiver fell, and she’s actually pregnant! Now she’s extorting us, saying it happened on our watch and we’re responsible!” Twenty minutes later, Eason rushed breathlessly into the hospital building. He only saw me sitting alone on a bench outside the ICU, hands clasped, praying devoutly. “Elara!” He hurried over, looking around. “Vivian… I mean… where’s Lin?” I looked up, my eyes slightly red. “This woman is a liar! She’s five months pregnant! She didn’t say anything when we hired her as a caregiver, and now she’s screaming after falling. Isn’t this just a scam?” Eason’s face changed. “Then… then where is she? Where did she go?” “Why are you panicking?” I looked up at him, a hint of inquiry in my eyes. “Regardless of whether the child lives or dies, I’ll bear all responsibility. I won’t let the Reed family get involved.” Eason didn’t reply. He grabbed a passing nurse. “Where’s Lin? The girl who was with my mom?” The nurse glanced at me. “Ms. Vance arranged for her transfer. This is a cardiovascular hospital; we don’t have an obstetrics department. She needs to go to a maternity hospital for prenatal care.” Eason’s face was ashen. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Soon, the call connected. “Where are you?” Lin’s tearful voice came from the other end. “Eason, it was Elara! Elara pushed me! The baby’s fine, but I need to be on bed rest… I was so scared, I almost didn’t protect your baby… Mom getting into the ICU was also because Elara provoked her. She knows everything!” Eason hung up the phone and slowly turned to face me. His eyes had changed. “Elara, you shouldn’t have done this.” He took a step closer, his voice resolute. “I originally thought that once the child was born, I would let you raise them. After all, you can’t have children, and I can’t let the Reed family line end.” He paused, shaking his head. “But now I see, you’re simply not fit to be a mother. So, I don’t want to deceive myself anymore.” With that, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was a printed divorce agreement. “Sign it.” I took the agreement and scanned it. The asset division section read: Marital assets split 50/50. I smiled. From my bag, I pulled out another agreement. “Sign this one.” It stated that due to the husband having an improper relationship with another person and causing pregnancy during the marriage, he was the primary at-fault party, and 70% of the joint marital assets would belong to the wife. “70%?” Eason laughed as if he’d heard a joke. “Elara, you’re dreaming!” “Winning a lawsuit isn’t about empty words; it’s about evidence. And you have none.” With that, he turned and strode away. I sat there, watching his back disappear down the hallway. It was true, I had no evidence. I had no right to demand a paternity test between someone else’s child and my husband. Even if I knew that child was his, even if the whole world knew that child was his. As long as he denied it, the court would be powerless. I slowly gathered the two agreements, stuffing them back into my bag. But one thing he said was wrong. Evidence would come soon enough. The next second, my phone rang. “He went to the maternity hospital.” “Good.”

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At my best friend’s wedding, I was lucky enough to catch the bouquet. Everyone looked on expectantly at me and Henry, my boyfriend of eight years. My friend, Maya, beamed, playfully teasing, “Congratulations! So, when’s the big day for you two?” I replied, “Next month.” To my surprise, Henry’s face instantly darkened. Right there, in front of everyone, he snapped at me, “Are you that desperate to get married? The more you push, the less I want to marry you.” He didn’t know the man I planned to marry wasn’t him. 1 The atmosphere at the wedding turned awkward because of Henry’s words. Maya, my best friend, looked ready to lash out on my behalf, but I stopped her. “Don’t let it get to you. Today’s your wedding, it’s not worth getting upset over.” Her husband, Michael, quickly stepped in, calming her simmering anger. Once she was settled, I pulled Henry aside. I didn’t want our drama to overshadow Maya’s special day. Henry was still fuming. “You can relax,” I explained, “what I said earlier was just polite conversation, not serious.” His expression softened slightly, but he still couldn’t resist a barbed comment. “I think you should learn from Elara Vance. Stop being so obsessed with romance.” Elara Vance was a brilliant, newly hired graduate from overseas at his company. This wasn’t the first time Henry had brought her up to me. Initially, when he talked about Elara, it was usually to complain about her strong personality, calling her aloof. But gradually, his comments had shifted to praise. He’d often say, “Elara is like a modern-day Joan of Arc, even more capable than most men.” A knot tightened in my stomach. I remembered replying to him then, “How capable?” He’d rolled his eyes at me. “More capable than a housewife like you, anyway.” My body stiffened. He knew perfectly well that the only reason I stayed home was because of my health. I had a congenital heart condition. In my younger years, this condition often led to emergencies. The most serious time, I almost died. Out of fear for my safety, Henry stopped me from working. I remembered him holding me tenderly then, promising he’d take care of me, telling me to rest at home and wait for him. I loved him, and I trusted him. But I never imagined that eight years into our relationship, his promise to “take care of me” would become a knife he’d twist into my heart. At that moment, a soft melody began to play at the wedding. In the romantic atmosphere, I felt a sudden daze wash over me. Henry hadn’t realized how hurtful his words were. Or perhaps he had, but he didn’t care. He even seemed proud of himself for leaving me speechless. He looked satisfied to see me discomfited. Just then, his phone rang. Elara’s calm, confident voice came from the other end. “Don’t stay up late tonight. You have a business trip tomorrow.” “Understood,” Henry replied, his tone gentle. Elara chuckled softly. “Want some unagi bowl? I can bring it over.” “Sure, thanks, Chef Elara.” Henry’s eyes crinkled with a smile, his joy undeniable. “Hmph, stop being such a tease,” Elara playfully chided. After hanging up, Henry’s smile lingered, the earlier coldness from our argument completely gone. Their familiarity was so evident; I felt utterly shut out of their world. At that moment, Maya, arm in arm with her husband, approached us. She continued to jab at Henry. “Henry, you better not do anything to hurt Serena, or I swear, I’ll never forgive you.” Henry first glanced at me, then let out an annoyed scoff. “My relationship with her is none of anyone else’s business.” Maya’s temper flared again. Michael and I quickly intervened, calming her down. With our persuasion, she reluctantly allowed Michael to lead her away. In the corner of the grand hall, only Henry and I remained. Henry grumbled, “You should spend less time with her. She’s a total shrew.” I turned to him, enunciating each word carefully. “A shrew? In your eyes, who isn’t a shrew? Even Elara Vance, whom you admire so much now, you used to call her a shrew.” Henry choked on his words. He wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him a chance, simply walking away. As the wedding neared its end, Maya pulled me aside, her face red from crying. She said we had planned to have our weddings together, but she didn’t expect me to break that promise. I smiled, gently patting her shoulder. I told her, “It’s okay. Seeing you happy today makes me happy.” But Maya insisted, “No, I know you. You’re not happy at all today. You should break up with him.” 2 No sooner had she spoken than Henry appeared. He looked at us suspiciously. “Break up what?” Maya shot him a glare and turned her head away. But he was persistent, a hint of anxiety even in his voice. “Serena, tell me.” “Can’t you tell? My best friend can’t bear to part with me.” The lie rolled off my tongue effortlessly. He saw no change in my expression and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. In an instant, he reverted to his usual haughty self. “It’s getting late. We need to go home.” I nodded. After saying goodbye to Maya, I got into Henry’s car. We didn’t exchange a single word the entire way. He seemed a little surprised by my silence, yet satisfied that I was finally “behaving” and not bothering him. When we got home, Henry even remembered to praise me. “You should always be this quiet, instead of rambling on the moment you get in the car.” But his praise quickly turned into a lecture. “If you had something of your own to do, you wouldn’t always be clinging to me.” He sighed. “You never go out and socialize; you’re completely out of touch with society. You even graduated from a prestigious university. You’re truly wasting your potential.” I clutched the hem of my dress. I knew. Even without Henry telling me these things, I knew. I was more anxious than he was. Just then, I received a message from Maya. “I have good news for you. We’ve found a matching heart donor.” The good news hit me like a revelation, snapping me awake. Henry, mistaking my reaction for being affected by his words, felt a pang of regret. But he continued nonetheless. “I can’t always support you, Serena. If one day we break up, what will you do?” I was no longer listening to him. I rushed into the bedroom, continuing my conversation with Maya about the heart donor. Henry remained in the living room, still lecturing. “I’m not saying I’ll abandon you. I just hope you can have something of your own, Serena. I want you to be more independent.” I didn’t respond. Seeing my silence, he sighed, then turned and went into the bathroom to shower. That afternoon, Henry suddenly called me. “Serena, I left a file at home. Can you bring it to the office for me?” I was about to ask him where the file was when he abruptly hung up. I sighed and started searching the house. I finally found the file in his study. Just as I was about to grab the file and leave, I accidentally bumped into a hanging bag. The bag fell to the floor, scattering its contents, revealing a necklace gift box. I opened the box. It was empty. I suddenly remembered something and quickly checked my social media. Finally, I saw the necklace in a post by Elara Vance. It was accompanied by a picture: a man’s large hand helping her put on the necklace. I hadn’t paid much attention to the post before, so I hadn’t noticed the subtle details. Now, looking closely, I saw a mole on the inside of the man’s index finger. Henry had a mole in the same spot on his hand. At that point, what more was there to understand? The necklace was a Givenchy, worth over two hundred thousand dollars. How could a man as frugal as he was usually, afford such an expensive gift? I let out a bitter laugh. 3 I remembered my birthday last year. Not only did he forget, but afterward, he only made it up to me with a scarf worth a hundred dollars. It wasn’t that I disliked the scarf for being too cheap, but that my neck became incredibly itchy when I wore it. He had laughed at me then, “Where did you get all this princess syndrome? You’re probably just upset the gift is too cheap, aren’t you? Don’t try to be like those gold diggers online, Serena. We need to be grounded.” I shook my head with a bitter smile. Thankfully, I no longer had any expectations of him. I put everything back in its place, then hurried to deliver the file to him. As soon as I arrived at the company, I was stopped by the receptionist. I explained that I was Henry’s girlfriend and was there to deliver a file. The receptionist seemed to soften slightly, but then Elara Vance appeared. Elara didn’t even glance at me. She looked straight ahead, instructing the receptionist, “Get rid of her quickly.” I stared at her in surprise. She clearly knew me; we had met before. I thought a woman like her would be above playing such petty games. The receptionist gave me an apologetic look and was about to ask me to leave. Seeing Elara walk away without a backward glance, I called out, “Ms. Vance, we know each other, don’t we?” Meeting the receptionist’s astonished gaze, Elara’s expression remained unchanged. She scrutinized me from head to toe, her eyes heavy with disdain. “So what? Are you so idle that you come here to cause a scene? Henry told me you were a high-achieving student?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. My temper flared, and I was about to say something when Henry suddenly appeared, stopping me. Henry first looked at Elara, asking her with concern, “What’s wrong? She didn’t do anything to you, did she?” I looked up, surprised. In Henry’s eyes, was I really that kind of person? Despite having long understood his true nature, a chill still ran down my spine at that moment. Thankfully, my time with him was also coming to an end. My wedding was scheduled for next month, and the groom wasn’t him. The man I was about to marry was someone I met through an arranged meeting; I didn’t have strong feelings for him. For me, marriage was just a task. I was in my early thirties; I needed a marriage to deflect societal scrutiny. Most importantly, I needed a definitive reason to finally end things with Henry. We had been together for eight years; he was my first love. To completely excise him from my life would be like tearing off my own skin. Fortunately, I had long passed the stage of holding romanticized notions of love. Watching the two of them being intimately close, oblivious to my presence, I maintained a calm expression and placed the file on the reception desk. “The file is here.” I casually informed him and then left. He didn’t even glance at me until I had walked out of the company building. He was still talking to Elara about something. That evening, he returned. I was sitting on the sofa, casually looking at my phone. Henry seemed surprised that I hadn’t made dinner tonight. But he didn’t say much, turning instead to shower. After his shower, he saw me still on the sofa with my phone, his expression unreadable. “Why haven’t you cooked anything? I’ve had a long day. Can’t you be more thoughtful?” I didn’t even look up. “What? Your Ms. Vance didn’t keep you for dinner?” I had seen Elara’s social media post tonight. Henry had dropped her home. But Henry had told me he was working late. Caught in his lie, he grew annoyed. “I knew you’d overthink things, that’s why I kept it from you.” He sighed. “Look at you today, causing a scene at my company?” I looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Didn’t you ask me to deliver the file?” He coughed uncomfortably. Perhaps he realized he was in the wrong, but he still stubbornly insisted, “You should have just delivered the file to the reception. You argued with Elara just because you disliked her and made an issue out of nothing.” He continued, “She’s not like you. She’s not just any girl; she has ideals and ambitions. She’s above playing mind games and schemes or getting jealous all the time.” He concluded, “I’ve already apologized for you. Next time you see her, be polite.” I felt like I didn’t even know him anymore.

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I asked my best friend to try on the bridesmaid dress, but she ended up wearing my wedding gown instead. On the morning of my wedding, she and my fiancé stumbled out of the same hotel room, clothes rumpled. The hotel staff were shocked, and my parents were crying and screaming. My fiancé, looking guilty, stepped forward to hug me. I didn’t yell or throw a fit. Instead, I generously announced on the spot that I was giving the wedding ceremony to them. My best friend looked smug, but she had no idea. Just a moment ago, when my fiancé hugged me, the protective jade pendant my grandmother left me shattered. My grandmother always said that if the jade shattered, it was blocking a disaster. An apocalyptic disaster. 1 “Katie, last night was an accident. I accidentally put on your wedding dress, and Liam had too much to drink and didn’t see clearly…” My best friend, Chloe, said this, but she couldn’t hide the pride in her eyes. I knew exactly what she was so proud of. Liam came from a prominent family, had great looks and charisma, and on top of that, he doted on his girlfriends. During the six months he pursued me, he bought me over a hundred thousand dollars worth of gifts. Now, six months into our relationship, just when I had finally agreed to marry him, this happened. The scene in front of me was almost comical. Chloe was wearing my wedding dress, which was torn in places, and the marks on her exposed skin broadcasted exactly what happened last night. My fiancé, Liam, kept his head down, seemingly afraid to look at me. My parents kicked Liam in the leg and, even while being held back by the hotel staff, continued to curse at him, pointing fingers. Liam picked himself up from the floor, walked over to me, and gave me a gentle hug. “Katie, I’m so sorry. But what’s done is done. Please, just let us be.” What a shameless thing to say. I wasn’t an idiot. I could tell how satisfied he was with Chloe. Chloe definitely had a better figure than me and was much more open-minded. Liam had hinted at it many times while we were dating, but I insisted on waiting until after marriage. Just when everyone thought I was going to slap him and curse out his entire family… I smiled and nodded. “Sure.” Not only that, I added, “The hotel is already booked anyway. You two should get married today, right here.” Liam let out a sigh of relief. “Katie, I knew you were a generous girl.” My parents were so furious they almost died on the spot. They even wanted to grab a broom from the cleaning staff and beat me with it. “Katie! You’re just going to let these two cheating dogs go?! Where are we supposed to show our faces now?!” I dragged my furious parents away. Around the corner of the hallway, I pulled out the jade pendant from under my clothes. It was broken into two pieces. “Mom, Dad, this is the jade pendant Grandma left me.” As soon as my parents saw the once flawless, pale green jade broken in half, their anger instantly vanished. My mom grabbed me and practically dragged me onto the elevator. She asked me, her eyes darting around like security cameras: “Did this… just break?” My dad’s face went from beet red to deathly pale, his fingers trembling slightly. “No way…” I nodded. “It shattered just now when Liam hugged me.” My parents exchanged a look, their brows furrowed so tightly they couldn’t relax. As soon as we stepped off the hotel elevator, my dad announced: “We’re moving. Now!!” Passing by the bride and groom welcome signs outside the hotel, my parents kicked Liam’s sign over and took mine with them. My mom immediately called the wedding planner. She demanded that they take away all text and pictures related to me, leaving absolutely no trace behind. Seeing how incredibly tense my parents were, I was moved to act too. I deleted all of Liam’s contact info and photos from my phone. Our family fled the hotel in a panic. That very night, we packed up and moved out of the city. 2 The reason we were so tense was because of the jade pendant my grandmother left behind. My grandmother was the most accurate psychic for miles around. From shocking murders to finding lost cats and dogs, she could calculate anything. Some people even whispered that she wasn’t human, but an animal spirit that had attained enlightenment. Because my grandmother never got a single prediction wrong in her entire life. My grandmother lived to be exactly ninety-nine years old. The day she passed away was a clear winter day. She was sitting in her rocking chair in the yard, soaking up the sun. After petting our yellow dog twice, she called my name. “Katie!” I was only eight years old at the time. When I walked over, she took the jade pendant she had worn her whole life and tied it around my neck. “Katie, wear this jade pendant well and never take it off. If it shatters one day, it means it blocked a disaster for you.” “You must immediately get away from the person closest to you when it breaks.” “The jade shatters to block a disaster. An apocalyptic disaster.” I didn’t understand back then and asked foolishly: “Grandma? What big disaster?” My grandmother looked at me and slowly said through her toothless mouth: “Three Families Village.” Leaving only those three words, she closed her eyes, leaned back in her rocking chair, and passed away peacefully. Afterward, my grandmother had a grand funeral. Important people from our town and all six neighboring towns came to pay their respects. I told my parents everything about my grandmother giving me the jade. I asked them what “Three Families Village” was, but they refused to speak of it. Instead, they immediately packed up our belongings and moved us to the city. Now, memories that had been sealed away for years awakened. The absurd drama between me, Liam, and Chloe spread all over social media. At first, everyone thought what Chloe did was despicable, stealing her best friend’s fiancé. But then people found out that not only was I not angry, but I also handed over the groom and the wedding ceremony. Some started calling me a coward, saying I had no spine if I could just let my best friend and boyfriend sleep together without throwing a fit. Rumors flew everywhere. But I didn’t care. I let them talk. Chloe successfully hijacked the wedding, becoming the bride and Liam’s lawful wife. She seemed very proud of herself. She constantly posted on social media, showing off from the wedding day until now. A dazzling diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg, a $20,000 cash gift from Liam’s parents, Liam kneeling to put a designer shoe on her foot, and closet after closet of luxury goods… [Thanks to Katie, and thanks to the me who bravely chased after love.] [This time, I want both money and love.] [You only live once, bravery happens right now.] Liam also gave his new wife plenty of face, constantly posting photos showing off their love. Many mutual friends liked her posts, some even sucking up to her in the comments, saying things like, “Looks like someone else just didn’t have the blessing for this life.” Chloe seemed very satisfied with everyone putting me down and replied with a grinning emoji. Looking at these posts showing off her wealth, I actually laughed out loud. She probably had no idea what was waiting for her. Not only that, Chloe flaunted her wealth online, posting the “glorious” story of how she hijacked the wedding, which attracted a lot of attention. Her account gained 500,000 followers overnight. The comments were full of people praising her as a “boss babe,” saying “the brave enjoy the world first,” and “the one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel.” The news that my parents and I moved overnight also reached the internet. The people who originally mocked me for being a coward laughed even harder, saying my parents and I were made of the same weak stuff, scared and spineless. I didn’t care if they insulted me, but seeing the comments mocking my parents, I couldn’t help but fire back. I commented on Chloe’s post: [Insult me all you want, but what’s the deal with attacking my parents? Do none of you have parents? Please watch your mouths, and Miss Chloe, please stop using me for clout.] 3 As soon as I posted the comment, I turned off my direct messages. Sure enough, my comment was immediately flooded with hate. Chloe didn’t reply, but she liked all the comments attacking me. I shook my head at these people who couldn’t tell right from wrong. Whatever. People do what they do, and heaven watches. We hadn’t just moved; our new home was halfway across the state from our old city. It was a remote location with a relatively small population. My mom had suggested moving to a nearby city, but my dad, for whatever reason, insisted on going hundreds of miles away. My mom couldn’t change his mind, so she had to agree. Although I believed my grandmother’s words, I was still very curious about my parents’ reaction. During dinner that night, I asked them: “Mom, Dad, what exactly did Grandma mean by an apocalyptic disaster?” My parents, who were smiling just a moment ago, instantly stiffened. My mom put a piece of braised pork into my dad’s bowl. “Katie is grown up now, honey. We can tell her, right?” My dad hesitated but eventually nodded. “You tell her.” My curiosity flared. “An apocalyptic disaster? Does that mean a natural disaster is coming?” “You remember Three Families Village, right?” My mom looked very serious. I nodded. “I remember. Grandma mentioned it to me.” My mom’s expression turned strange. “Three Families Village… a few hundred people, originally located about ten miles from our town. Overnight, the entire village hanged themselves. Wiped out.” As soon as she said that, the warm atmosphere at the dinner table froze. “Hanged… hanged themselves?” I was shocked. I had thought the “apocalyptic disaster” my grandmother mentioned meant a flood, earthquake, or some other natural disaster. I never expected it to be something so bizarre. I quickly asked, “Why?” My parents looked uneasy and said in unison: “It was haunted.” Even after dinner was over, the shock in my heart hadn’t subsided. No wonder my grandmother gave me that protective jade pendant before she died. So the jade pendant really did block a massive disaster for me. It seems my grandmother not only calculated things her whole life, but she even calculated my future. Thinking about what happened in Three Families Village still gave me the creeps. Hundreds of people hanging themselves overnight is truly a horrific tragedy. According to my parents, whatever disaster was about to fall upon Liam would probably be even more terrifying than that. But why didn’t the jade pendant break before? Why did it only break after Liam and Chloe hooked up? Did my grandmother foresee even this twist? Just as I was marveling at my grandmother’s brilliance, my phone rang. It was an unknown number, so I answered it. A smooth, gentle voice came through: “Katie, how are you holding up?” It was Liam! I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I didn’t dare have anything to do with him anymore. After that night, I stopped answering calls from any unknown numbers. I was terrified of dying! Chloe continued to flaunt her status as a wealthy wife online. Luxury cars, expensive watches, gold, and jewelry flowed into her bedroom like a river. Perhaps she got bored, because she started coming after me again. 4 In the middle of the night, Chloe, dressed to the nines and wearing an expensive fur coat, sat on a luxurious sofa live-streaming. The viewers flooding into the stream were all praising her beauty. Chloe smiled and nodded. “I was bored today, so I started a stream to chat with everyone.” After casually showing off a few designer bags, prodded by viewer comments, she brought my name up again. “Her? She was probably born without the destiny to be rich. Even when the food is fed right to her mouth, she wouldn’t eat it, hehe.” “Best friend? We used to be… but did she really treat me as a best friend? She didn’t even tell me when she met Liam. She only told me after they got together. Was she afraid I’d steal her man? So much for women supporting women, haha.” “Where is she now? Probably scared to death with her family. They fled overnight on the day Liam and I got married, probably afraid I’d become a rich wife and take revenge on them.” … Watching this unfamiliar woman on the screen, I couldn’t help but sigh. How could I have been so blind before? Chloe was still spreading rumors about me, but the sharp-eyed viewers in the stream noticed something bizarre. [Chloe, did the closet behind you just move?] [I thought I was the only one who saw that! It feels like there’s something inside?] [Yeah, you should check it out. Maybe it’s a puppy?] Chloe didn’t see the comments at first. Not until the chat was entirely filled with people telling her to watch her back. And I had seen it just now, too. The closet behind Chloe was slightly ajar, revealing a crack, and there seemed to be a faint eye looking out. The angle was extremely strange, because if it was an eye, it was at the very bottom of the closet. Chloe clicked her tongue in annoyance and pulled her fur coat tighter. “You guys are just trying to scare me. There’s no one else in the mansion tonight, don’t try to scare me.” Saying that, as if to prove she wasn’t afraid, her high heels clicked across the floor as she walked up to the closet. “There, see?!” She yanked the door open. Crash— A man in a black leather jacket tumbled out upside down and crashed onto the floor. He was wearing a black face mask, and a bunch of expensive jewelry spilled out onto the floor with him. He was probably a burglar. But instead of running, he curled up in the corner trembling, his eyes unfocused, his face a sickly pale color. “Ghost… there’s a ghost… ghost… don’t kill me… don’t…” When he saw Chloe’s pale neck, he let out a bloodcurdling scream, fell to his knees, and started kowtowing to her repeatedly. “I’m begging you! Please don’t kill me, don’t kill me, I didn’t mean to… spare me, spare me…” The man smashed his forehead against the floor until it bled, banging his head faster and faster. Chloe froze for a second, then clutched her chest and ran away screaming. “Help! There’s a burglar! Help!” In the chaos, the phone streaming the video was knocked to the ground, so we couldn’t see what happened next. Watching the burglar who had been scared out of his wits, I felt a mix of shock and fear. What exactly did he see to be scared like that? Remembering what my mom said about Three Families Village, I had a bad feeling. Maybe this was the omen of the approaching disaster. There was definitely something unclean in the Liam’s mansion now.

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My husband was supposedly an orphan, losing both his parents when he was young. He later married into my wealthy family as a live-in son-in-law. After our marriage, we had a son and a daughter, and my parents enjoyed the bliss of having grandchildren. However, when I rushed home on the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, I heard my husband teaching our children to call the old family butler something unexpected: “Grandpa.” 1 “Yes! Good girl.” Uncle Miller’s old face broke into a smile as bright as a blooming chrysanthemum. A sheen of tears flashed in his eyes, and his face bore obvious pride. My husband, William, had one arm around each child. After coaxing our little daughter, Lily, to call him that, he turned to our son, Liam: “Liam, call him Grandpa.” Standing outside the window, I watched this scene unfold in the living hall with cold eyes, thoughts swirling in my mind. Since my parents retired, they traveled abroad frequently. They had just flown to the Maldives a few days ago. I had personally gone to Shanghai to negotiate a project, but considering it was the Mid-Autumn Festival—a time for family reunion—I took a red-eye flight back. I wanted to surprise my husband and children, but I never expected William to give me such a shock instead. Uncle Miller had worked for my father for over a decade. Even though he was a senior member of the household staff, it still wasn’t his place to comfortably accept the title of “Grandpa.” He was usually cautious and followed the rules. He shouldn’t have acted so presumptuously. Lily was still in elementary school, so naturally, she did whatever William told her to do. But Liam was already in middle school. He knew perfectly well who the real head of this household was, so he reluctantly refused: “Dad, if Mom hears this, it won’t be good…” Before Liam could finish, William interrupted him, flying into a rage born of humiliation: “Does my word mean nothing in this house anymore? He’s a… an elder who has been with our family for so many years. He watched you grow up with his own eyes. What’s wrong with calling him Grandpa?” Hearing this, Liam stopped resisting and called out timidly in a low voice, “Grandpa.” Compared to Lily’s calling, the ecstatic joy on Uncle Miller’s face could no longer be hidden. He abruptly reached out, wanting to pull Liam into his arms. Liam instinctively dodged his hands, leaving Uncle Miller standing there awkwardly. William suddenly shouted angrily, as if a raw nerve had been poked: “I raised you for nothing! You’re exactly like your mother, looking down your nose at everyone! You even…” The rest of his words were instantly swallowed back down. He looked toward me as if he’d seen a ghost: “W…Wife, why are you back so suddenly?” “If I wasn’t, how would I know you act so high and mighty at home?” A cold smile played on my lips as I slowly walked into the living room. Liam threw himself at me like he’d seen a savior: “Mom! I thought you wouldn’t be back for at least a week.” Lily also leaned into my embrace playfully: “Mommy, did you bring me an Elsa dress?” I took my time comforting my two darlings before looking up at Uncle Miller and William: “I’m gone for one night, and my two children suddenly have a new grandpa?” Uncle Miller looked terrified, then immediately apologized in a dejected tone: “Miss Chloe, I was just too envious of Mr. Sterling having such wonderful grandchildren, which is why I lost my composure. Please don’t blame your husband. He just saw that today is a festival for family reunions, thought about how I’ve been alone my whole life, and felt sorry for me. I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again!” Seeing Uncle Miller so anxious that tears were about to fall, I couldn’t bear to say much more. I just gave a vague nod and told him to leave for now. However, before he left, he and William quickly exchanged a subtle, knowing look. Seeing this, a faint sense of displeasure arose in my heart. In this house, Uncle Miller had the lowest status, followed by William. And this allied posture of theirs was testing my bottom line. 2 After returning to our room, William, seeing that my face was still grim, put on his usual cheeky, smiling face and leaned in: “Wife, you must be exhausted from this business trip, right? Let me massage your shoulders.” “Your humble servant will also rub your legs.” The soreness in my limbs gradually eased under his perfectly applied pressure. Perhaps because I always had a strong, dominant personality, I was always very susceptible to William’s “shows of weakness.” Even though I knew he was faking it. After all, just this afternoon, he had said things like “my eyes are on the top of my head.” But for a man to be able to fake it for a lifetime and keep me comfortable was a skill in itself. “Don’t make jokes like that again. It crossed the line.” My words effectively concluded today’s incident. The anxiety on William’s face visibly vanished: “I knew my wonderful wife was the most magnanimous.” He playfully massaged me for nearly half an hour before casually grabbing a set of pajamas and heading into the bathroom. For some reason, the look William and Uncle Miller exchanged that afternoon inappropriately popped into my mind. Remembering that he specifically went around to the nightstand to grab his phone before entering the bathroom, I instinctively lightened my footsteps and pressed myself against the bathroom door. “It’s a small matter. Just have him come over and report for duty.” “Everyone in the company knows who calls the shots now. If you ask me, having a woman as a leader just means a bunch of trivial, annoying rules.” William’s tone was incredibly arrogant, something I had never heard before. I didn’t know what the person on the other end said, but it made him chuckle in agreement. I raised my hand and knocked on the bathroom door: “William, who are you talking to?” The noise inside quickly ceased, and William stepped out briskly. He carefully observed my expression before speaking softly: “Wife… it’s like this. You know I lost my parents when I was young and grew up relying on the charity of others in my village. Now everyone back home knows I married a capable wife, and they all praise me for making something of myself. I also wanted to repay the kindness of the people from my hometown. So just now, my Third Uncle called wanting to find a job for his nephew here. It just so happened we have an opening for an errand boy at the company, so I agreed.” Hearing this explanation, my heart instantly skipped a beat. The tone William used on the phone just now was entirely natural. Seeing the small things tells the bigger picture. How many people had he exactly shoved into my company? Ignoring William’s anxious expression, I lay back down on the bed, keeping to myself. Early the next morning, I went straight to the company. My first order of business was to call in Kevin, the HR manager. Kevin looked troubled: “Ms. Sterling… are you saying you want a list of everyone hired by Mr. William?” A cold smile touched the corners of my mouth: “Since when do you have to look at William’s face to do your job?” “Chloe Sterling! It’s not cool to talk like that,” Kevin rolled his eyes at me. I found it a bit funny: “You were the one acting weird first. Calling me ‘Ms. Sterling’ and being all formal.” Kevin suddenly sighed: “Ever since you focused entirely on the company’s business operations, the internal management has become William’s domain. You two are husband and wife, after all. There are many things that are hard for me to say, but I suggest you go take a look at the administration department on the seventh floor.” I didn’t press Kevin any further and headed straight downstairs. As soon as I reached the entrance of the administration department, I saw it was entirely staffed by young women, all wearing extremely short suit skirts. This scene made me frown deeply. Before I could even take two steps inside, I saw the unfamiliar back of a man, his wandering hands sliding back and forth along a girl’s thigh. “You… you…” The girl’s voice was filled with shock and anger, but she couldn’t get any other words out. The man touching her was about forty or fifty. Seeing her constantly trying to dodge, his tone suddenly turned vicious: “So what if I touch you? I’m the one who hired all of you! Do you want to keep your jobs or not?! I pay you such high salaries just for my own pleasure!” Hearing this, the anger in my heart nearly burst out of my throat. Who the hell was this old animal?! Just as I was about to call security, I heard him spouting more nonsense: “You women are only good for spreading your legs for men. Take our famous Ms. Sterling, for example. No matter how capable or badass she is, she spends her days making money for my nephew to spend, and at night, she obediently lies in bed for my nephew to play with!” 3 I instantly laughed out of pure anger and called for several security guards: “Throw him out.” The old animal was surrounded by security guards, still spewing foul language: “Who do you think you are?! Do you know who I am?!” “When did a woman your age sneak into my company?! I only hire fresh, eighteen-year-old girls!” “Don’t touch me, you worthless trash! Where’s William? Get William here! I’m his real uncle!” The head of security glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. Seeing that I had no reaction to these words, he boldly ordered his men to pin him down and drag him out. I rubbed my temples and called Kevin over again: “Tell me, what exactly is going on.” This time, Kevin spoke clearly: “William has been exercising hiring power in the company under your name. He’s stuffed anyone from his hometown who is even remotely related to him in here, regardless of their age or how low their education is. As the HR manager, I have no say. You brought me here to filter candidates for you, but now, the people entering the company are truly a mixed bag.” I was both angry and amused. Since my father retired, I took over the corporate group, and project matters left me no time to focus elsewhere. Although William was a live-in son-in-law, he had the title of “Vice President” after his name. It was somewhat understandable that people in the company deferred to him. “This current state of the company is my fault,” I sighed. Kevin paused for a moment, practically spelling it out for me: “Making money is secondary. You’d better sort out your family affairs first.” I thought of the old man who claimed to be William’s uncle, and a shadow of gloom cast over my heart. After all, William had always told me he “lost his parents young, had no family left, and grew up relying on the charity of the village.” I nodded, got up decisively, and left. I headed straight home, wanting to have a serious talk with William, but I couldn’t find him in the living room or the garden. At this hour… could he not be home? I was just about to call him when I faintly sensed something was wrong. Thinking it over, I realized that Uncle Miller, who usually stayed in the living room, was also nowhere to be seen. Remembering the secret exchange between William and Uncle Miller yesterday, I instinctively walked towards Uncle Miller’s room. Uncle Miller always knew his place. When he first came to our house, he voluntarily chose the room at the very end of the hallway. As if possessed, I actually took off my high heels and approached with the lightest footsteps possible. “Are you an idiot? Don’t you know what kind of person your uncle is? Why would you put him in the company?!” Was that Uncle Miller’s voice? I was a bit surprised. This usually gentle and calm man actually had moments of such explosive anger and impatience? But who was he scolding? Soon, the other, expected voice chimed in. “I didn’t expect him to be this arrogant either, openly starting a harem in the administration department, and getting caught red-handed by Chloe.” It really was William. A glint of coldness flashed in my eyes as I calmly listened to the argument between the two inside. “I’ve been the butler in the Sterling family for over thirty years. I know Chloe’s temperament best. She won’t let this go. I’m worried she’ll follow this trail and investigate…” Before Uncle Miller could finish, William impatiently cut him off: “What are you afraid of? I told her my parents are dead. I didn’t say my uncle was dead too. Besides, she’s a woman after all. As long as she’s a woman, she can never detach her life from her children and family. No matter what, I’m the father of her two children. The Sterling family’s assets will eventually fall into the hands of us father and son.” … He said, “us father and son”? 4 Those three words struck my ears like a thunderbolt, shaking me so hard I nearly lost my footing. I didn’t dare stay there any longer, terrified of making any noise that would put the two inside on guard. As soon as I got back to my car, my first instinct was to call my father. But remembering the double betrayal from the man I shared my bed with and the man by my father’s side, I didn’t dare be careless. My company and my family were already compromised. What if my car had also been tampered with by them long ago? I quickly found a private club in a secluded location. Only when surrounded by reassuring silence did I dial my father’s number: “Dad… why did you hire Uncle Miller to be our family butler all those years ago?” On the way here, I had already noticed the discrepancy in the timeline. After all, Uncle Miller came first; he practically watched me grow up. It was only much later that I met William. My father, a true veteran of the business world, instantly caught the subtext in my words: “Chloe, what happened at home recently?” My father’s steady voice calmed my slightly panicked emotions. I recounted everything that had happened over the past two days in detail. My father was silent for a long time before speaking in a hoarse voice: “If Miller truly is William’s biological father, then what happened today likely stems from a conversation we had a long time ago… “When you were in middle school, Miller probed me about my requirements for a future son-in-law. “He always claimed to be a lone wolf with no family, and he had worked for us for over ten years, so I didn’t think much of it and said I wanted an orphan.” He paused for a good while before his voice came through the phone again: “When your mother gave birth to you, it terrified me, so I got a vasectomy while she was recovering. Our family has a massive business, and you don’t have any siblings to support you. I always worried that when you married, your in-laws would try to bleed you dry. I originally thought about finding a family of equal status, but you didn’t like domineering personalities. I thought it over and over, and felt that finding an orphan to be a live-in son-in-law was the most reliable option. Who knew that later, you actually brought a ‘William’ home… It was quite a coincidence.” As my father finished, he placed heavy emphasis on the word “coincidence,” and I instantly understood what he meant. Once suspicion takes root, details magnify endlessly in your mind. During my dozen or so years of marriage to William, although his interactions with Uncle Miller were few, every single one of them felt off in retrospect. From William’s presence at every single one of Uncle Miller’s birthdays, to the other day when Uncle Miller couldn’t hide his joy upon hearing Liam and Lily call him “Grandpa.” Thinking of this, my face darkened: “Dad, we’ve been set up.” Because I truly believed William was an orphan, I didn’t even think about signing a prenuptial agreement when we married! As a result, even knowing the truth now, I couldn’t immediately tear off all pretense due to the financial implications. And the situation on my father’s end was even more troublesome. Uncle Miller had been with him for over thirty years. This trust led my father to hand over the management of many businesses to him. Taking them back now would be quite tricky. Hearing these difficulties, my father actually let out a hearty laugh: “I’ve lived for decades. This isn’t the first or second time I’ve been set up. The important thing is having the wisdom and patience to break the trap.” My father’s laughter swept away the gloom in my heart. We discussed strategy for a long time before finally hanging up. My first step was to hire a private investigator to go to William’s hometown and gather evidence. You see… the reason I firmly believed William was an orphan, aside from his parents’ death certificates, was that group of relatives in his hometown who supposedly fed him out of charity. Among those people, there had to be flaws.

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