Category: English

  • Bloodless Justice: The Son I Saved Tried to Destroy Me

    1 My son has a sense of justice so sharp, it could cut you. When Mrs. Gable, our neighbor, dropped a curse word in the neighborhood Facebook group, my son reported her to her employer the next day. She lost the commendation for excellence she was up for. When a kid from the third floor tossed a paper airplane out his window, my son delivered him to the police station three days later, complete with security footage. The boy’s parents were fined, and he got a stern lecture. I tried to rein him in, my anger simmering just beneath the surface, but he’d just jut out his chin and argue back. “Mom, the rules are absolute. Justice doesn’t take a day off.” “Even if you were the one breaking the rules,” he’d say, “I would choose justice over family.” His words became reality when I brought home some pastries from work that were about to expire. My son created a 65-slide presentation, sent it to my boss, and got me suspended. As he was dialing 911, he tried to comfort me. “Mom, you just need to do your time and learn the rules. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” It was then I finally understood. My son was passing his “righteous” judgment on every “sinner” he saw, anyone who failed to meet his standards. But what he didn’t know was that I had found him abandoned under a bridge. And I never filed a single piece of legal paperwork to make him mine. … The police car arrived while I was still sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the suspension notice. The flashing red and blue lights pulsed through the window, painting my face in shifting, silent strobes. Ethan opened the door. He stood ramrod straight, like a soldier at attention. “Officers, that’s her. She embezzled company property.” He pointed at me, his voice clear and unwavering. I looked at him, this boy I had raised for eighteen years. His eyes glittered with a light that was almost fanatical. It was the fire of “justice.” Two officers stepped inside, their expressions a little strained. “Ma’am, Lynn Miller? You’ll have to come with us.” Ethan followed them, adding more details. “Officers, here’s the evidence I’ve compiled. It includes security footage of her taking the pastries, the company policy against taking expired food, and a recording of her admitting to it.” He handed them a flash drive, his presentation neat and orderly. I was taken away. As I walked out of our home, neighbors peeked out from their doors, pointing and whispering. Their murmurs felt like needles pricking my back. “Look, that’s her. The one whose son turned her in.” “I heard she stole from her company. What a disgrace.” I kept my head down and got into the police car. I was at the station for three hours. Finally, my boss called the police and explained it was all a misunderstanding. The pastries were about to be thrown out anyway, and the company had intended to give them to employees as a small perk. They wouldn’t press charges, choosing to handle it internally. They let me go. The night air was cold as I stepped out of the police station. I called my boss to apologize. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, he said, “Lynn, just… take some time off. We’ll be in touch.” I understood. It was a gentle way of firing me. I dragged my exhausted body home. The door was unlocked. When I pushed it open, the acrid smell of disinfectant hit me like a wall. In the living room, all of my things—the throw pillows, my favorite teacup, a few magazines I was reading—were piled into a large black trash bag by the door. Ethan was wearing rubber gloves, meticulously wiping down the handle of my bedroom door. “You’re back,” he said calmly. “I disinfected the house. I’ve disposed of anything that didn’t meet sanitation standards.” I rushed over and tore open the trash bag. Inside was the mug I’d used for ten years, a souvenir I’d bought him on a business trip, and an old photo album my mother had left me. “Ethan!” I screamed his name for the first time. “What gives you the right to throw away my things?” He pulled off his gloves, his brow furrowed. “Mom, these items were either breeding grounds for germs or useless clutter. According to Article Four of the Household Management Bylaws, they should have been cleared out long ago.” “What damn bylaws?” I was trembling with rage. “I wrote them myself,” he said, picking up a stack of printed papers from the table. “To make our home more orderly and efficient.” “You violated Article Seventeen: arbitrary accumulation of clutter.” I stared at his face, flushed with righteous excitement, and the world began to spin. I hadn’t raised a son. I had created a cold, unfeeling machine that only executed rules. 2 The next day, I went to the bank to withdraw some cash, planning to get away for a few days to clear my head. The teller informed me that my account had been frozen. I just stood there, my mind a complete blank. “Why?” “Ma’am, we received a notice from the IRS to freeze the account. They said you’re under investigation for potential tax evasion.” The IRS. A roar filled my ears, and I immediately knew it was Ethan. I have a small hobby. I make and sell handmade jewelry online. It never made much money, just a little something on the side. I’d never even thought about reporting it for taxes. The notebook where I kept my accounts was in my bedside table drawer. I ran home like a madwoman. Ethan was in the living room, reading a book titled Foundations of Law. The sunlight fell on him, making him look so clean, so pure. I stormed up to him, my voice shaking. “My bank account. Was this you?” He looked up and adjusted his glasses. “Mom, paying taxes is the civic duty of every citizen.” “Last July, your online store had a special edition piece that sold very well. Your income for that month exceeded the five-hundred-dollar threshold for exemption.” “You were supposed to declare and pay eight dollars and fifty cents in income tax for that month. But you didn’t.” “I simply reported this fact to the IRS. It’s up to them to decide.” “For eight-fifty?” I was practically shrieking. “You reported me for eight dollars and fifty cents?!” “It’s not about the amount.” He closed his book, his gaze as calm as still water. “It’s about the principle. You broke a rule. Even for a penny, it’s still a stain on your record.” His tone was so casual, as if he were discussing what to have for dinner. “Do you have any idea what that money means to me!” I screamed. “It’s how we live! It’s your college tuition!” “Then you should have made sure to earn it legally.” He was completely unfazed. “Mom, don’t let money warp your sense of right and wrong.” I stared at him, my heart clenching with a pain so sharp it took my breath away. Just then, my phone rang. It was my brother, David. The moment I answered, his furious roar erupted from the speaker. “Lynn! What the hell have you been teaching that kid?” “That little bastard, he reported me!” My brother’s daughter, my niece, had a sudden, violent stomach flu in the middle of the night. In a panic, David had gotten verbal permission from his boss to use a company car to rush her to the emergency room. “It was a one-time thing! An emergency! My boss even approved it and said we could sort out the paperwork later!” David yelled. “He took pictures. Didn’t even say a word to me. He just sent a report straight to the ethics committee, accusing me of misusing company property and embezzling state assets!” “I’m suspended pending an investigation! Are you happy now?” I clutched the phone, my hands and feet turning to ice. “David, I’m so sorry, I…” “Don’t you dare say sorry to me! You need to control that son of yours who’d turn on his own family!” He slammed the phone down. I looked at Ethan. There wasn’t a flicker of guilt on his face. “Uncle David did something wrong. He should face the consequences.” “That’s your uncle!” “Before the law,” he said, “there are no relatives.” He finished speaking, looked down, and went back to his book, as if we had been discussing a news story about strangers. My entire world was being systematically dismantled by him, one of his so-called “rules” at a time. 3 The story spread like wildfire. I became a neighborhood celebrity: the foolish woman who got caught stealing from her company and raised a son with no loyalty to anyone. Neighbors who used to greet me warmly now crossed the street to avoid me, their eyes filled with contempt and a cruel sort of pity. My online shop for handmade jewelry was permanently shut down by the platform for “suspected regulatory violations.” My only source of income was gone. I locked myself in my room, too afraid to go outside. I tried to reason with Ethan. I pulled out our old photo albums, pointing to our smiling faces. “Ethan, remember this? This was our trip to the ocean. It was the first time you saw it, you were so happy you couldn’t stop jumping.” “Look at this one. You had a high fever, and I carried you on my back for three blocks to get to the hospital. You hugged my neck and told me I was your superhero.” I thought these warm memories might awaken some sliver of affection in him. But he just pushed the album away, his expression cold. “Mom, don’t use emotional appeals to distract from the issue.” “We are discussing the mistakes you’ve made, not the past.” “Appealing to emotion is the lowest form of debate tactic.” His words were a razor-sharp knife, severing my last thread of hope. He even taped a “Code of Conduct for Household Members” to our front door. It listed dozens of rules. Absolute silence must be maintained after 10:00 PM. All trash must be sorted and taken out by 8:00 PM daily. Consumption of snacks in the living room is forbidden outside of mealtimes. Beneath each rule was a corresponding demerit system. Under my name, there was already a long list of violations. November 12th: Failed to take out the trash on time. -2 points. November 13th: Ate an apple while watching television in the living room. -5 points. November 14th: Shower exceeded 15 minutes, wasting water resources. -3 points. Looking at that piece of paper, I didn’t feel like I was living in a home. I felt like I was living in a prison managed by my own son. And I was the only inmate. I started having insomnia, lying awake night after night. When I closed my eyes, all I could see were the scornful looks from my neighbors, my brother’s furious shouting, and Ethan’s perpetually “correct,” ice-cold eyes. I lost weight rapidly. Within two weeks, I was a ghost of my former self. One night, I got up for a drink of water and saw a crack of light under Ethan’s door. He was awake, staring at his computer. On the screen was his 65-slide presentation. He was still perfecting it. Under the section titled “Evidence of the Mother’s Transgressions,” he had added a new entry. “Subject exhibits poor moral character, has engaged in tax evasion, and attempts to use emotional attachment as a shield to evade responsibility.” In that moment, my heart simply died. 4 The final straw was the official notice from the IRS. It came by registered mail, stark black and white. Because I had “failed to file in a timely manner” and did not address the initial notice, I owed $8.50 in back taxes. However, the associated late fees and administrative penalties totaled one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The most absurd part? Ethan had hidden the initial notice from me. He believed it was my responsibility to discover the problem on my own. If I couldn’t pay the full amount by the deadline, I would face asset seizure and a permanent mark on my credit record. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I held the letter, my hands shaking uncontrollably. For eight dollars and fifty cents, my son had single-handedly ruined my life. I had no job, no savings, and no way out. Despair washed over me like a tidal wave. The only option left was to sell the house we lived in. It was my only asset, the last thing my parents had left me. With red-rimmed eyes, I listed the house online. A realtor called almost immediately, wanting to bring a client by the very next day. I agreed. I had to survive. That evening, Ethan came home from his classes and saw the realtor’s business card I’d left on the coffee table. He picked it up, and his face instantly changed. “You’re selling the house?” “Yes.” My voice was a dry rasp. “Why?” “Because I need the money to pay the fines you so kindly arranged for me.” I enunciated every word. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “No!” he snapped. “This is our home! How could you sell our home just to run away from your mistakes?” “Run away?” I laughed, a sound more painful than a sob. “Ethan, I’m cleaning up the mess you made!” “I made no mistake!” he shouted, his eyes blazing with a terrifying stubbornness. “You were the one who broke the rules! You were the one who broke the law!” “Selling the house now would throw our lives into complete chaos! It’s the most irresponsible thing you could do!” He lunged for the phone in my hand, trying to delete the listing I’d posted. I clutched it tightly. “Ethan, let go of me!” “No! I won’t let you destroy this family!” He was strong, and I was no match for him. He wrenched the phone from my grasp. He raised it high, ready to smash it to the ground. I looked at his crazed expression, his face twisted in defense of his ridiculous set of rules. And suddenly, I stopped fighting. I just looked at him, a strange, calm smile spreading across my lips. “Ethan.” My voice was quiet, but it froze him in place, his arm still raised. “You love rules so much. You love what’s ‘legal’.” “So let’s talk about the single biggest illegality in this house. Shall we?” He froze, staring at me in confusion. I slowly pulled myself up, walked right up to him, and looked directly into his eyes. Those eyes, once so clear and bright, were now filled with nothing but cold, rigid fanaticism. “Are you curious, Ethan?” “About how, eighteen years ago, an abandoned baby with no birth certificate and no parents, found under a bridge…” “…’legally’ got a social security number, a home, and a mother?”

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  • The Boyfriend Test

    When I was little, I went to buy a soda and picked out a $3 bottle of Coke. My mom said, “A $1 bottle of water quenches your thirst just the same. Why spend the extra two dollars?” When we went out to eat, given the choice between a $25 Happy Meal or a $16 bowl of beef noodle soup, it was always the noodle soup. My clothes were always picked from the discount stalls at the market—the cheapest ones available. Then I grew up, and I brought home a boyfriend with bleached blond hair. My mom had a meltdown. 1 Staring at the man in front of her—sporting a mop of bright yellow hair, a studded leather jacket, skin-tight black leather pants, and a smile that was way too enthusiastic—my mom’s mouth hung slightly open. She couldn’t seem to close it. Finally, I had to snap her soul back into her body. “Mom, this is my boyfriend,” I introduced him. She had been on her way out to her dance class, but she immediately pulled her foot back inside. Hearing my introduction, Chad looked for a place to wipe his hands. But between the studs on his jacket and the leather of his pants, he couldn’t find a spot. He ended up shoving his hands inside his vest, rubbing them quickly against the lining. Then he grabbed my mom’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Hello, Mom! I’m Chad! I’ll take good care of Emily.” Seeing my mom’s face turn whiter by the second, I quickly pulled him away. “You should go now. I’m home.” Chad realized he might have been a bit too intense. He let go immediately, but with enough force that my mom’s hand kept shaking for a few seconds. I hurried him out. As the elevator doors closed, he was still shouting, “Mom! I’m leaving now! I’ll come visit you again soon!” The moment the doors shut, my mom dragged me inside. She slammed the door hard, like she was afraid someone would break in. Her brow furrowed, her tone unkind. “How could you find a boyfriend like that?” I put down my bag and sat on the sofa. “Mom, he treats me really well.” “Don’t let his clothes fool you. He’s very responsible. He’s working hard to save up for a ring. He plans to marry me.” “His salary is really high!” Hearing this, my mom’s expression softened slightly. “What does he do?” she asked, fishing for details. “He’s a security guard at an apartment complex. He makes $3,500 a month, six days a week.” “What! $3,500 is considered a high salary?” Her voice rose an octave. “He’s still on probation. Once he’s permanent, it’ll be higher!” “How much higher?” “Another $500! That’s $4,000 a month!” “After rent of $1,000, food for $1,000, $500 for our dates, and $500 for living expenses, he can save $1,000 every month. That’s $12,000 a year for the wedding fund!” My mom sank onto the sofa, rubbing her temples. She looked at me with bewilderment. “What is good about a man like that?” 2 I poured her a glass of water from the coffee table. “Mom, when I was little, you always made me choose the $1 water.” “But the first time I met him, he bought me a $7 boba tea. Seven dollars! That’s so expensive!” “When we ate, he took me to McDonald’s. Not only did he order a $20 combo, he paid extra to get me the toy!” “In that moment, I thought, he treats me so well!” My mom slammed the glass down on the table, her voice thick with anger. “Just for a cup of tea? A Happy Meal? You think that’s treating you well?” “Do you have no brain?” I felt wronged but kept my voice small. “But when I was little, you bought the $1 water.” “When we had a choice for food, you picked the $16 noodles.” “I know, you haven’t really met Chad, so you’re worried. I’ll call him right now and ask him to come over for dinner tomorrow. Once you talk to him, you’ll know how good he is.” Before my mom could stop me, I dialed the number. “Hello~ Chad. My mom wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow.” “Bring something? No, it’s just a simple meal. No need for gifts.” “Yes, tomorrow night. Remember to dress nicely.” By the time I hung up, my mom was frozen in place. I smiled at her. “Mom, Chad says he’s not picky. You don’t have to work too hard, just make something simple.” “See? He’s so considerate! He was worried you’d be tired and told me to help you!” “I’m going to take a shower and sleep early. Gotta look my best to welcome him tomorrow.” With that, I got up and left. Before entering my room, I saw my mom still sitting there in a daze. Suddenly, she snapped out of it like she’d been electrocuted. She frantically grabbed the landline, her fingers fumbling before finally dialing. “Hello~ Husband, come home as soon as you get off work tomorrow.” “What’s important? I’m telling you, nothing is more important than tomorrow!” “If you dare not come back tomorrow, I’m divorcing you!” See? Mom is so happy! She even threatened Dad to make sure he comes home. 3 Sure enough, Dad came home early the next afternoon. He was carrying half a watermelon. Mom scolded him for wasting money while putting the melon in the fridge. “Just because you like it!” Dad replied casually, kicking off his shoes and flopping onto the sofa. Mom didn’t respond, but the corners of her mouth turned up, and her spatula moved more cheerfully in the wok. Dad was a factory worker. He lived at the factory dorms during the week and only came home on weekends. When there were lots of orders and overtime, he’d be gone for ten days or two weeks at a time. Mom handled everything at home—the household, the relatives, and me—single-handedly. Chad was punctual, knocking on the door just before dinner. Seeing my dad, he shouted with full lung capacity, “Hello, Dad!” Dad nearly fell off the sofa. Chad was carrying gifts: a large watermelon and a case of milk. He had dressed up today. His blond hair was slicked back, shiny and bright. He wore a normal white t-shirt, but paired it with a wild leopard-print vest and ripped jeans. Very trendy. I whispered to Chad, “My dad is introverted.” He patted his chest, reassuring me. “We’re family now. We’ll warm up.” Then he chased after my dad, chatting away. “Dad, I heard you’re a senior technician at the factory. What kind of senior?” “Are the dorm beds big? Is the food good?” Dad wasn’t much of a talker, but he responded with grunts and nods. “Well—” “Uh—” “Mm—” Seeing them chatting so happily, I snuck into the kitchen to check on dinner. “Mom, Chad is really too good.” “He bought us a whole huge watermelon! And a whole case of milk!” I chattered in Mom’s ear. Suddenly, she slammed the spatula down with a clang and said deeply, “Have I ever starved you?” I pouted. “Usually we only buy half or a quarter of a melon. Milk is bought one bottle at a time.” “Compared to that, he’s really generous!” Mom’s face was dark as she quickly plated the food. “Dinner’s ready.” I helped carry the dishes out. Chad is the best. Always smiling. On the table, Mom had made four dishes: braised fish, chicken wings, vegetables, and seaweed egg drop soup. “Wow, a feast!” I exclaimed, picking up my chopsticks. Usually, when it was just Mom and me, it was one meat and one veggie. Seeing my excitement, Chad immediately postured. “Next time I’ll take the family out to a restaurant. We can order five dishes and a soup.” I was moved. “Chad, you’re so good.” I glanced at Mom, wanting her to see how great Chad was. 4 Mom couldn’t hold it in anymore. She put down her chopsticks. “Emily told me your income. Do you think $4,000 a month is enough to support a future?” Chad put down his chopsticks too, confident. “Mom, don’t worry. Dad makes $2,800 and gives the family $2,500, and that supports the house. My income is higher than Dad’s!” “Plus, I can do food delivery on weekends. I can easily make $4,500 a month.” Mom was speechless, her face looking strange. She raised another issue. “Emily is a college graduate. You didn’t even finish high school. It might not be a good match.” Chad laughed out loud. “Mom, I used to think there was a big difference between college kids and uneducated guys like us. But Emily doesn’t even know how to order at a boba shop.” “Don’t worry, I won’t dislike her for it. I think she’s cute like that!” Dad reached his limit. “You dare dislike my daughter?” “Look at yourself! What kind of trash are you!” Hearing this, Chad’s face turned cold. “What kind of trash? At least I can buy Emily boba, take her to McDonald’s, and buy her clothes at the mall—even if they’re from the discount rack!” “And I can let her buy whatever drink she wants at the convenience store.” “Do you really think $4,000 can support her?” Dad raised his voice. “It’s $4,500!” Chad retorted, unbothered. “Dad, you support the family on $2,800. I make more than you. It’s definitely enough!” Finally, Dad turned red with anger. “Don’t call me Dad! I’m not your Dad!” He slammed his chopsticks on the table. They bounced into a dish, splashing sauce. To dodge the sauce, Chad stood up, knocking his chair over with a loud crash. I gasped. “Dad, what are you doing!” Mom looked furious, staring at me with disappointment. “What do you see in him! Are you possessed?” “What spell are you under?” I quickly handed Chad a tissue. Then I looked up at her with deep, dark eyes, saying nothing. Mom seemed to sense something. Disbelief filled her eyes, followed by panic.

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  • The General’s Four Sons

    I am the adopted daughter of General Stone, a ruthless warlord whose life was once saved by my father. General Stone offered me a choice: I could marry any one of his four sons. In my previous life, I blushed and chose his eldest, Julian Stone—gentle, refined, and seemingly perfect. But a year into our marriage, right after I gave birth to our son, Julian installed a lover in a hidden house—a slender, effeminate opera singer. I finally realized I was just a beard, a cover for his true desires. Later, General Stone discovered the affair and secretly executed the singer. Julian believed I was the one who orchestrated it. In his rage, he set our mansion on fire, dragging me and our son into the flames to be buried alongside his lover. As the fire consumed us, his last words were: “If there is a next life, never choose me again!” Then I opened my eyes, and I was back. It was the year of the selection. 1 “Luna, you’re of age now. Take a look. Which one of these four rascals do you like?” “Whoever you like, I’ll make him marry you!” “If he dares to refuse, he can get the hell out of the Stone family!” General Stone, dressed in his military uniform, made the declaration with an authority that brooked no argument. I looked up at this rough but fiercely loyal man and realized with a jolt—I had been reborn. And I was back on the very day General Stone asked me to choose a husband from his four sons. Standing in a line in the grand hall were my four candidates. The eldest, Julian Stone: wearing a long coat, gentle and refined. The second, Adrian Stone: in a sharp white suit, modern and westernized. The third, Marcus Stone: in his field uniform, radiating a wild, dangerous aura. The fourth, Elliot Stone: in a simple tunic suit, looking pale and dissolute. “I know, you’re probably going to pick the eldest!” General Stone boomed. “Adrian just got back from studying abroad, Marcus is busy making a name for himself in the army, and Elliot… well, let’s not mention him.” “You’ve spent the most time with Julian over the years!” “You’re always chasing after him, calling him ‘Big Brother this’ and ‘Big Brother that.’ Just pick him and be done with it…” Before he could finish, I grabbed his sleeve in a panic, shouting, “Wait!” General Stone froze, looking down at me in confusion. “Why?” My grip on his sleeve tightened. The image of me holding my child in the sea of fire flashed through my mind. Julian’s words—If there is a next life, never choose me again—made my heart tremble. I steadied myself, trying to look normal. “General, I want to tell you privately…” General Stone assumed I was just being shy in front of the four candidates. He laughed and waved his hand. “You four, get out!” “Yes, sir!” They answered in unison and filed out in order of age. The third son, Marcus, glanced back at me from the doorway. He was tall, muscular, with eyes like a tiger’s—large, deep-set, with amber irises. His gaze was intense, almost oppressive. In my previous life, right before I died, he had rushed back in his uniform, trying desperately to break into the burning house. Servants tried to stop him, but he kicked them aside. I didn’t know if he was trying to save his brother or me, because by the time he broke in, I was already gone. I assumed he was trying to save his brother. We didn’t have much of a relationship; usually, we just nodded at each other. When I called him “Third Brother,” he rarely responded. “They’re gone, Luna. Who do you choose?” General Stone’s rough voice urged me to make a decision. My heart raced. I answered respectfully, “General, I choose the third son!” 2 General Stone’s expression froze. He looked at me in disbelief. “Marcus?” I had no choice. Born into chaotic times as an orphan, I needed a protector. Julian liked men. Adrian was too progressive to accept an arranged marriage. Elliot was a lost cause, a playboy with a drug habit. Only Marcus was suitable. He was focused on his military career. He had no time for affairs, and he was too lazy to date. If I married him, I could just manage the household and stay out of his way. He wouldn’t mistreat me. After all, in my past life, he tried to save the brother who fought him for the inheritance. That showed he was loyal, just like his father. “Marcus doesn’t know the first thing about treating a woman right,” General Stone warned. “If you saw him on the battlefield, you wouldn’t pick him.” “They call him ‘The Reaper’ in the army for a reason!” “Besides, bullets don’t have eyes. I’m worried you’ll end up a young widow!” General Stone truly loved me like a daughter. Of his four sons, only Marcus had joined the army. In a way, he had already given this son to the country. He looked at me cautiously. “Why not pick again?” “It’s not chess. You can take back a move.” “Remember, with me, you always have special privileges!” General Stone wasn’t exactly a good man—he had multiple wives and a violent reputation—but he was genuinely good to me. But I shook my head, looking at him firmly. “No. I choose Marcus. I like him!” “I like him.” Those three words silenced General Stone. He looked at me, sighed helplessly, and his eyes grew misty, perhaps remembering someone from his past. “Love is involuntary. If that’s the case, I’ll grant your wish!” “Go call Marcus in!” I quickly interjected, “General, let’s not tell him yet. There’s fighting in the South; I don’t want to distract him. Let’s just surprise him on the wedding day. It’s just moving from one courtyard to another anyway.” General Stone thought for a moment, then agreed. “Alright!” Walking out of the hall, I was immediately surrounded by the four brothers. “Luna, did you pick Big Brother?” Adrian asked eagerly. Elliot chimed in, “Obviously! She wouldn’t pick me; even I wouldn’t want to ruin her life.” “And you,” he pointed at Adrian, “with your half-baked western ideas, even the dogs find you annoying!” “Marcus is out of the question. All he does is fight. Marrying him is like being a widow.” “Besides, Luna has liked Big Brother since we were kids. Everyone with eyes knows that!” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but glance at Julian. He looked gentle and kind. He treated everyone well, including me. He would peel oranges for me, buy me imported hand cream, take me to the opera, and buy me expensive sodas. In my last life, I fell step by step into his gentle trap. In this life, I would not make the same mistake. Just as I was about to speak, Julian looked at me with pleading eyes. “Luna, can you tell my father not to choose me?” “I don’t like you. Haven’t you pestered me enough all these years?” I stood there, stunned. This wasn’t how it happened before. 3 In my previous life, Julian was desperate for me to choose him. He wanted to hide his sexuality and needed an heir to secure his inheritance. His signals were what made me choose him. He made me believe we were in love. But this time, he rejected me. Was he reborn too? Did the tragic death of his lover in the last life wake him up? Was he choosing love over power this time? “I didn’t…” I started to say I hadn’t chosen him. But his servant, Parker, ran over breathlessly. “Young Master, the show started ages ago! The Sixth Mistress has sent for you multiple times. Mr. Shang is performing today!” Hearing the name “Mr. Shang,” Julian’s eyes lit up, and he turned to follow the servant. I remembered then. The opera singer Julian kept in the golden cage was named Shang Yue. So they knew each other this early? “Let’s go, we’ll tag along!” Elliot threw his arms around Adrian and Marcus, dragging them along. I stood there alone. Elliot looked back. “Luna, aren’t you coming?” Yes, of course I was going! I wanted to see what this singer looked like. In my last life, Julian hid him so well. By the time I found the address, Julian had already moved him. We never met, even in death. I entered the Stone family at six. I bore Julian a son at twenty. Fourteen years of companionship. Where did I lose? I clenched my fists and followed the three brothers. I didn’t even realize how pale my face was. By the time we arrived, the performance was ending. Backstage, a figure in a water-blue costume was removing makeup. The thick paint obscured the gender, but those upturned eyes were soul-snatching. Julian sat on the table next to him, playing with a box of face paint. “This is almost empty. I’ll buy you a new box tomorrow!” Mr. Shang glanced at him through the mirror. “If the Young Master is paying, I’ll pick the biggest box!” Julian, completely entranced, grabbed his arm and leaned in for a kiss. We walked in right at that moment. Everyone except me was shocked. “Ah, you…” Elliot started to shout, but Adrian covered his mouth. “Shut up! Is this something to broadcast?” “If Father hears, he’ll break his legs!” “Do you want to get Big Brother killed?” Only Julian, caught red-handed, remained calm. He even gently wiped the smudged lipstick from the singer’s mouth. He looked at me, provocative. “You see? This is what I like. If you’re smart, tell my father yourself!” “Tell him you don’t like me! You won’t marry me!” “You’re just an adopted orphan anyway. Marrying any of us is climbing the social ladder.” “You won’t lose out no matter who you pick. Pick Elliot; he won’t mind you!” Elliot pointed at himself. “Me?” With how much the General doted on Luna, he wouldn’t dare dream of it. How could his brother say that? 4 Looking at Julian’s provocative gaze and hearing his insults, I realized something painful. He was taking revenge on me. Revenge for the death of his lover in the previous life. But if I could find out about the singer, how could General Stone not know? If the Stone family had such a scandal, the General would clean house. What did that have to do with me? Was he transferring his hatred to me because he couldn’t fight his father? Bullying an orphan because I couldn’t fight back? My eyes reddened. The person who used to treat me so gently… even without love, there should be family affection. But now he was wielding a knife, stabbing my heart repeatedly. “Brother, you’ve gone too far!” The first one to stand up for me was Marcus. He walked forward silently, his boots heavy on the floor. He grabbed the singer’s hand, ripped him out of Julian’s arms, and threw him aside. “Insulting Luna for an actor? Did a dog eat your conscience?” Under Marcus’s force, Shang Yue stumbled into me. I fell back several steps, barely steadied by Adrian and Elliot. Before I could speak, Shang Yue dropped to his knees like a frightened rabbit, kowtowing to me repeatedly. “I’m sorry, Miss Stone! I didn’t mean to!” “My fault, I bumped into you. I’ll kowtow!” Thud, thud. Hard and exaggerated. Soon, his forehead was bleeding. Julian exploded. He jumped off the table and shielded Shang Yue. “Don’t call her Miss Stone! She’s just an orphan my dad picked up!” He glared at me. “He just bumped you. Do you think you’re made of glass?” “Don’t you know an actor’s face is his life? Look at him, he can’t perform for weeks now!” Heartbroken and angry, I trembled, pointing at Shang Yue. “Did I say a single word? He knelt and banged his head on his own!” “I am an orphan, but why did I become one?” My father was a commander in the allied forces. Our families were close. When General Stone’s army was surrounded, my father led the reinforcements. Later, during a joint operation, General Stone made a tactical error. My father covered him, taking a bullet meant for the General. I never mentioned this because General Stone treated me well, and I didn’t want to reopen old wounds. I had seen him stand before my father’s memorial tablet all night, many times. He felt guilty. But now, Julian was debasing me for a lover. I had to bring up the past to protect myself. Julian sneered. “So you’re using that debt to force me to marry you?” I paused. He thought I still chose him in this life. Fine. I swallowed the truth. He plotted against me in the last life and hurt me in this one. Let him suffer a bit. I put my hands behind my back and said coldly: “So what? If you have the guts, tell the General about your boyfriend!” “Beg him to let you be together. If you have the courage to do that, I’ll respect you as a man and give you up immediately!” What was the General’s temper like? He ate bullets for breakfast. If he knew an actor ruined his son… Shang Yue would die tonight, and Julian would be whipped until his skin shredded. Julian didn’t have the guts! He valued his life! Otherwise, he wouldn’t have swapped lots to avoid the draft!

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  • Love Fades Away in Late Autumn

    1 Three days after my husband vanished, I had stomach ulcer surgery alone. Waking from anesthesia, I saw a post on a confession blog. It’s usually about cheating partners, but this was from a man. He wrote: “My wife’s stomach was bothering her, but my girlfriend missed me. I lied about a business trip to be unreachable. My wife is understanding—she won’t call. She texted she felt sick, but my girlfriend got upset, so I silenced my phone.” “The girl also complained of a stomachache and kept me in bed. I rubbed her belly and bought her whatever she wanted. Seeing her act spoiled… I found it cute.” “After she slept, I checked my card bill and saw my wife’s message: she’d just had surgery. Guilt hit me. My wife agonizes over one expensive necklace, yet what I spent on this girl could buy several.” Stomach pain. A necklace. It clicked, chilling me like the IV drip. Weeks earlier, I’d loved a $10,000 necklace but walked away. Frugality is ingrained. When we started our business, we lived in a basement, used subway AC, and often ate once a day. Old habits stay, even with money now. Comments erupted: “And people wonder why the birth rate is falling…” I turned off my phone, clinging to hope—it had to be a coincidence. Stomach issues are common. I can’t be the only woman who wanted that necklace. Just as dawn was breaking, Ethan finally arrived at the hospital. He rushed to my bedside, his hand immediately going to my forehead. “Lily, I am so, so sorry. I had no idea the client last night would be so difficult.” The worry and concern in his eyes seemed genuine. But then I noticed it. His shirt was buttoned wrong. And it wasn’t the shirt he’d been wearing before he left. Ethan was always meticulous about his appearance. What kind of business meeting would require a complete change of clothes before he could see his wife? He pulled a small box from his pocket. When I opened it, my heart plummeted. It was the necklace. “Honey, isn’t this the one you’ve wanted for so long? You wouldn’t buy it for yourself, so I did. What’s the point of earning all this money if we don’t spend it? If you want something, just buy it.” He mistook my pale, shocked face for post-surgery weakness. But a comment from the blog post echoed in my mind. “Sudden grand gestures are just compensation for secrets kept.” 2 After a restless night, I went home, my heart heavy with suspicion. It was Saturday, and we were both exhausted. I, from my surgery. But him? What was his excuse? He went to take a shower, leaving his phone on the nightstand. On a dark impulse, I picked it up and unlocked it. I opened his social media and checked his direct messages. There it was. The profile picture of the confessional blog. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an icy hand. Still in denial, I opened his WhatsApp. The pinned contact at the very top was nicknamed ‘Kiddo.’ The intimacy of it was a slap in the face. The chat history was a blatant, undeniable record of his affair with that girl. And I knew her. Her name was Aria, a name as ethereal and spirited as she was. All the little details I’d dismissed, all the red flags I’d ignored, came flooding back. Aria had started as a college intern, a senior, yet was inexplicably promoted to be Ethan’s executive assistant. There was the time Ethan came home blind drunk from a work dinner, leaning heavily on Aria. She’d helped him onto the sofa, her voice a mix of apology and concern. “Lily, please don’t be mad at him. It’s my fault, I can’t handle my liquor. Mr. Hayes was trying to protect me from having to drink, that’s why he got like this.” Before she left, she reminded me to make him some honey water to ease his hangover. “Lily, I remember you keep the honey in the top kitchen cabinet. Don’t forget.” She knew her way around my home. At the time, I’d brushed it off as a young girl fresh out of college, her head filled with silly romance novels and unrealistic fantasies. I had complete faith in Ethan. We had known each other for twenty-eight years. But now, their messages burned that faith to ashes. For Aria’s birthday, Ethan had filled her apartment with flowers, a grand romantic gesture to win her over. A thirty-year-old man, writing a personal note on every single bouquet. How romantic. Her texts were tinged with a playful jealousy. “Do you do this for your wife on her birthday?” “No,” he’d replied. “She’s… immune to romance.” He used to buy me a single flower for every birthday and holiday. But flowers were expensive, a luxury I saw as a waste. Twenty bucks for something that would just wilt. I’d told him how much I appreciated the thought, but that a home-cooked meal would make me happier. All the sacrifices I’d made, all the little things I’d asked him to save, were now being lavished on someone else. I scrolled to the last message, and Ethan’s words twisted the knife. “If only I’d been born a few years later, or if I wasn’t married right now.” Aria’s reply was smug. “Hmph. You’re terrible. As punishment, I’m taking your good luck charm. The one your wife gave you. I hate seeing it.” I heard something inside me shatter. That charm. I’d gone on a pilgrimage for it, to a remote monastery deep in the mountains. Three steps and a bow, five steps and a prayer, all for his safety. Our wedding vows rang in my ears. “Lily, I finally get to marry the love of my life. I’ve never felt so lucky.” And now, he was telling another woman, “If only I wasn’t married right now.” The pain was a suffocating net, wrapping around me, tighter and tighter. 3 Ethan came out of the shower to find me holding his phone. The color drained from his face. He lunged for it, snatching it from my hands. “Lillian! What the hell? Since when do you have no respect for privacy? Who said you could go through my phone!” I stared at his neck. It was bare. “I was just picking it up to put it on the charger,” I said, my voice flat. Ethan let out a breath of relief. No respect for privacy? He was the one who’d set his phone’s passcode to my birthday. “My phone is your phone,” he used to say. “I have nothing to hide from you.” “Ethan,” I asked quietly, “did your business deal go well last night?” He froze for a second, his lips tightening. “It was fine.” Tears welled up in my eyes, silently at first, then spilling over, fat drops soaking into the duvet. I rarely cried like this. He was stunned. He reached out, pulling me into his arms. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It was just a reflex. Come on, don’t cry.” “Ethan… it hurts so much,” I sobbed, my voice muffled against his chest. “It hurts.” He apologized again for not being there the night before, thinking my pain was purely physical. He got a hot water bottle, gently placing it on my stomach, and started massaging the area, his eyes filled with a soft, tender love. After twenty-eight years of knowing him and ten years of loving him, I couldn’t tell what was real anymore. I’m not some badass heroine from a novel. I couldn’t just walk away. Our lives, our twenty-eight years, were woven together, flesh and blood. The intricate web of our shared business interests was impossible to untangle. I couldn’t just rip him out of my life. It would mean ripping myself apart. “Ethan,” I said, my voice cold. “Your assistant. I was at headquarters the other day. She was rude to me. Fire her. I don’t like her.” He looked taken aback. “She’s just a kid, Lily. Why are you picking a fight with her?” I just looked at him, saying nothing. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. “Is that all? She’s just an assistant. If you don’t like her, we’ll get a new one. Hell, if you didn’t like one of my managers, I’d replace him without blinking an eye.” 4 Ethan started coming home more often, bringing small gifts each time. He would roll up his sleeves and cook, filling the table with all my favorite dishes. Sweet and sour fish, honey-glazed ribs, slow-braised pork… These were the dishes that had defined my youth. We were so poor back then, always hungry, so I craved hearty, filling meals. We could only afford to treat ourselves to one of these dishes every couple of weeks. Ethan would cook, giving me all the meat and taking the bony pieces for himself. Maybe this was for the best. With Aria gone, perhaps I could pretend nothing had ever happened. Right? But as I looked at the food, my appetite vanished. She was a shard of glass in my heart. The thought of her was agony. The sight of Ethan made me sick. I couldn’t stand being in the same room with him, couldn’t eat his food, couldn’t sleep in the same bed. His presence was a constant, nauseating reminder of his betrayal. I wanted to scream at him to get out. But I had to keep playing the part of his wife. Ethan raised his glass in a toast to me, thanking me for standing by him. I forced myself to lift my glass and drain it. The mood was right. He leaned in to kiss me. His face was so close, his breath on my skin. The revulsion was too much to suppress. I bolted to the bathroom and threw up until there was nothing left. Ethan followed me in, handing me a glass of water. “Sorry,” I mumbled, wiping my mouth. “My stomach’s just really sensitive.” Years of drinking at business dinners had wrecked my stomach. It was the perfect excuse. He rubbed my back, his face a mask of pity. “I’m so sorry, Lily. You did all this for me.” Our company had only survived its early years because I was the one out there, drinking myself sick to woo clients and secure deals. I threw myself back into work, hoping to channel my turmoil into something productive. I had a meeting at a client’s office. After we wrapped up, the project manager suggested we grab dinner. As we walked out, I saw a familiar car parked across the street. I froze. How did Ethan know I was here? I was about to cancel on my colleague when I saw her. A lively figure bouncing toward his car, crashing right into his arms. It was Aria. I heard Ethan’s voice, thick with affection. “You’re a professional now, you can’t keep being so clumsy. It’s chilly today, why aren’t you wearing a warmer coat?” Her tone was playfully demanding, just like mine used to be years ago. “You fired me. I haven’t forgiven you for that. Not unless you tell me you love me, every single day.” Ethan’s reply was a sigh of helpless indulgence. “Okay, okay. I love you. I love you the most.” Aria, satisfied, stood on her toes and playfully kissed him. Ethan took control, deepening the kiss until it was anything but playful. My blood ran cold. So, “the most” wasn’t an exclusive term in Ethan’s vocabulary. He could be at home, bending over backwards to please me one minute, and the next, he was whispering “I love you the most” to another woman. He hadn’t just replaced his assistant. He had simply moved their affair from the office to the bedroom. “Kids these days, huh?” my colleague remarked with a chuckle. “So open about everything. Not like us old folks.” I forced a smile. “Who is she? One of your company’s employees?” “Yeah. Some executive’s friend, I think. She was assigned to my team. Useless, to be honest. But the boss said someone important asked him to look out for her, so I can’t even reprimand her.” That night, Ethan didn’t come home. He was “out with clients.” I numbly called his phone. No answer. A moment later, a friend request from an unknown account popped up on my screen. I knew that profile picture instantly. It was Aria. “You saw us today, didn’t you? You’re really good at pretending.” “Ethan’s in the shower right now. He can’t take your call.” It was a childish, pathetic attempt at provocation. I ignored it. Apparently, that wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for. She sent me a screenshot of a social media post. “Dare you to look?” 5 I stared at the screenshot, a profound sense of dread washing over me. I had a feeling that whatever was in that link would destroy what was left of us. But Lillian, are you really going to keep running? It was Aria’s private blog, a chronicle of their love story. The cute, clumsy intern meets the handsome, domineering CEO. Sparks fly, and like magic, the two are drawn together in an unstoppable romance. Like a thief in the night, I scrolled through her life, meticulously comparing every picture, every date. The week I was in the ER with a bleeding ulcer, they were in San Francisco, feeding seagulls on the pier. The night I was delirious with a fever of 104, they were in Miami, playing in the waves. The day they watched the sunrise together from a mountain peak, I was being humiliated by a client, forced to drink an entire bottle of whiskey. My eyes landed on one date, and the world stopped. It was from the darkest period of my life. My grandmother, the only person in my family who had ever truly loved me, had passed away. Ethan was supposedly on a business trip to Orlando and got stuck there because of a sudden lockdown. But on that same day, Aria’s blog read: “He finally had time to take me to Disney, but we got unlucky with the pandemic and got locked down in our hotel. He basically turned into a wolf. Omg, I’ll never say a 30-year-old man is past his prime again, lol.” The accompanying photo was of a man’s back in the shower. I could clearly see a few long, angry scratch marks. Ethan knew what my grandmother meant to me. While I was at her funeral, sobbing my heart out, he was tangled up in a hotel bed with another woman. His text messages from that day were hollow and dismissive. “Everyone dies eventually. You have to stay strong.” My stomach twisted into a knot of searing pain. Disgust, pure and vile, rose in my throat. Everyone deserves to feel this pain. Only then will it be fair. 6 Maybe when you get close to thirty, you stop believing in fairy tales. Realism sets in. If ten years of love was all a lie, then I was going to maximize my return on that investment. Once the initial shock subsided, I scheduled a meeting with the last person on earth I wanted to see. Aria. Youth really is something. Her eyes were full of that clear, unfiltered stupidity. “Ethan and I are meant to be. This marriage is the only thing holding him back. He told me he’s only truly happy when he’s with me.” “Does it feel good, pretending you don’t know what’s happening? If you’re afraid you won’t find anyone else after the divorce, I’m sure Ethan will give you a generous settlement.” Her condescending, naive words almost made me laugh. “Miss Aria, you went to a good school. It’s a shame you didn’t learn anything. Naivete isn’t a virtue; it’s just a nicer word for stupid. You’re a homewrecker, and you’re proud of it?” I didn’t bother lowering my voice. People at the surrounding tables turned to look. Aria’s face flushed, a mottled mix of red and white. “Don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me! That won’t work on me!” Seeing her so flustered, an idea began to form. I pulled a checkbook from my purse. “How much do you want? Fill it in yourself. Take the money and learn some self-respect. I’ve seen plenty of gold-diggers like you. A little dignity goes a long way for a young woman.” She looked as if I’d just slapped her across the face. She snatched the check and tore it to shreds. “You know nothing about love!” I scoffed. “Quite the appetite. Maybe I don’t know love, but I know decency. Was my offer not high enough for you?” Completely enraged, she lunged at me, trying to grab my purse. In the scuffle, she gave me a hard shove. I didn’t resist. I let my body go limp, allowing her to send me stumbling backward, crashing hard onto the floor. A sharp, tearing pain shot through my abdomen. Something warm and wet trickled down my leg. I heard gasps from the people around us, and saw the color drain from Aria’s face.

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  • Parallel Lines That Will Never Intersect Again

    I’m a no-name actress from the wrong side of the tracks, and to survive in this dog-eat-dog town, I faked a connection with Sebastian Wheatley, the crown prince of Manhattan’s elite. My nemesis, Phoebe Vance, didn’t buy it. She dropped a fortune on paparazzi and private investigators to tail me. “I’m going to rip that mask right off your face,” she hissed, “and show the world what kind of trash you really are.” I fell to my knees, begging her to stop. “We’re not even in the same league. Please, just leave me alone.” Phoebe just laughed, a cold, triumphant sound. “I just can’t stand that fake, holier-than-thou act of yours. It makes me sick!” She called a press conference to announce her findings. And she finally found it—the truth. It turns out I’m Sebastian Wheatley’s long-lost sister. 1 The dressing room was arctic. Phoebe Vance, poured into a skintight black dress, sat perched on a velvet armchair, her legs crossed elegantly. The silver stiletto on her dangling foot, encrusted with rhinestones, swung back and forth like the blade of a guillotine, ready to drop. I was kneeling before her. The cold marble floor was agony against my kneecaps, a spreading numbness I didn’t dare shift away from. “Ava Reed, you really are a performer,” Phoebe purred, leaning forward. Her long nail traced a line down my cheek, a cat toying with a mouse. “All those years playing the saint, but deep down, you’re just gutter trash, aren’t you? You sure know how to kneel.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. “Phoebe… I’m begging you. Don’t do this. I’m no competition for you. Please, just let me go.” I was a nobody in this industry. I started at seventeen and now, at twenty-six, I’d never even landed a lead role. My biggest claim to fame was a supporting part in an Oscar-nominated film. But I was cheap and I worked hard, earning me a reputation as the industry’s workhorse. I was never short on offers. All that screen time meant audiences recognized my face, and my public image was decent enough. That was it. Compared to Phoebe Vance, it was nothing. She was born into money, a true industry princess. Her debut was a starring role, with A-list actors practically carrying her projects to prop her up. Endorsement deals with major brands fell into her lap. We were from different universes, worlds apart. I had no idea how I’d managed to piss off this heiress so badly that she wanted to destroy me. A month ago, her assistant contacted me out of the blue. Phoebe had spent a seven-figure sum to hire the best P.I. firm and paparazzi team in the city, swearing to strip me bare and leave me exposed for all to see. My hands trembled as I held the phone to my ear, tears already welling up. “Phoebe, why are you investigating me? Did I do something to offend you? Tell me, I’ll fix it, I’ll apologize!” Phoebe’s laugh was sharp and cold. “Offend me? You think you’re even worthy?” “I just can’t stand fakes and phonies,” she said. “See you at the Starlight Gala next month. You better be ready.” 2 I spent the next month in a panic, calling in every favor I had, trying to find out what was going on. But Phoebe dodged all my attempts to reach her. Until today. The Starlight Gala. Half of Hollywood was in attendance. I came with my agency; an actress of my status didn’t rate a private dressing room. Phoebe’s assistant summoned me to hers. The moment I walked in, she eyed me with a smirk. “Well, if it isn’t our industry’s little workhorse,” she chirped. “Ava, you work so tirelessly. You must have had a tough childhood, hmm?” The insinuation hit me like a physical blow. I dropped to my knees on the spot. “Phoebe, whatever you found, please don’t tell anyone!” Phoebe sank back into the plush sofa, legs crossed. She looked triumphant, tapping a blood-red nail against her chin as if in deep thought. “What did I find? Let’s see… an orphanage? A job as a dishwasher?” She clicked her tongue. “Tsk. Doesn’t quite match that ‘East Coast heiress’ persona you’ve been selling, does it?” Her words sucked the air from my lungs. I collapsed onto the floor, a single thought screaming in my mind: It’s over. It’s all over. She had dug up everything. I had cultivated an image as the only daughter of a wealthy family, which wasn’t entirely a lie. I was from Connecticut, and I was an only child. The part I left out was that my parents died in a car crash when I was four. None of my relatives wanted me. They said I was cursed, that I’d jinxed my parents and would bring bad luck to anyone who took me in. They carved up my family’s assets and dumped me in an orphanage. Those years were hell. I wore donated hand-me-downs, got bullied at school for it, and had to work to earn my keep back at the orphanage. My grades were, unsurprisingly, terrible. After barely graduating high school, I was working odd jobs when a talent scout found me. 3 I thought entering the entertainment industry would be my ticket out, a way to earn a decent living through hard work. The reality was a rude awakening. This place was a meat grinder. Calling it a cesspool would be a compliment. I was seventeen, not even a legal adult, when I got my first role as a minor handmaiden. The casting director cornered me on his office sofa, his breath reeking of whiskey. “Spend the night with me, and I’ll give you a better part,” he slurred. “The lead’s personal maid. She has pages of dialogue. Better than being a glorified extra, right?” I grabbed the glass ashtray from his desk and threw it at his head. Afterward, my manager dragged me back to apologize and pay his medical bills. The agency shelved me for a year, giving me a measly three-hundred-dollar monthly allowance. At nineteen, I landed a part in a low-budget web series. My manager got me drunk, and my own assistant personally walked me to the producer’s hotel room at two in the morning. I fought back, scrambled out the window, and called the police. Of course, the whole thing was hushed up. My agency bosses screamed my head off before terminating my contract. I was free, but no other agency would touch me. I ended up working as an extra on film sets. For three years, I hustled. My acting was solid and my work ethic was relentless, which eventually got me noticed. A bigger agency finally signed me. This time, I got a decent supporting role. I had learned my lesson. I couldn’t be the reckless, naive girl I once was. My new manager took me to industry parties. I learned to plaster on a smile and toast with the best of them. When investors got handsy, I gritted my teeth and endured it. I was desperate not to be poor again. With no family and no connections, being bullied and humiliated in this world of glamour and power felt like my destiny. I could take the insults, the condescension, the unwanted touches. As long as they didn’t cross my ultimate line. 4 Then one day, Director Evans, a titan of the industry, personally requested me for an audition. “There’s a fire in your eyes,” he told me. “A resilience that’s perfect for this role.” “Come to my hotel room tomorrow night. Nine o’clock. We’ll discuss the scene.” The color drained from my face. Director Evans was brilliant, but his vindictive nature was even more famous than his films. I’d been in the business long enough to hear the stories. Anyone who defied him found their career in Hollywood mysteriously stalled. Two years ago, a talented young actress who’d won a Best Newcomer award was blacklisted after refusing his advances. Rumor had it she had a mental breakdown. Her family took her abroad, and she was never seen on screen again. She was a leading lady, from a well-off family. I was an orphan. Crushing me would be as easy as squashing an ant. I braced myself for the worst. If it came down to it, I would just quit the industry. But as a high school graduate with no diploma, my future would probably involve delivering for DoorDash. Standing in that hotel corridor, I thought of my bleak prospects and started to cry, my makeup running down my face. And that was the day I met Sebastian Wheatley. The whispered-about crown prince of Manhattan’s elite, the sole heir to the Wheatley Corporation, whose media empire controlled half of Hollywood. He was flanked by bodyguards, his suit immaculate, his features as sharp and cold as carved ice. For some reason, my pathetic, sobbing figure caught his attention. Sebastian walked over and handed me a tissue. “What are you crying about?” Through a blur of tears, my lips trembled, but no words came out. I must have been a pitiful sight. His interest faded as quickly as it had appeared. He frowned, clicking his tongue. “For God’s sake, wipe your nose.” 5 That was my one and only interaction with Sebastian Wheatley. But by a stroke of horrible luck, a paparazzo caught the moment on camera, and the photo went viral. I decided to lean into it. I gave a deliberately vague statement to the press: “Mr. Wheatley and I… we’ve known each other for a long time.” “As for the nature of our relationship, it’s not really something I can discuss publicly.” The internet exploded. Because I’d never revealed my true background, and an old rumor about me being an “East Coast heiress” was still floating around, fans started connecting imaginary dots. Sebastian’s mother was from Connecticut, they pointed out. Maybe we were related, cousins perhaps. And if you squinted, there was a faint resemblance in the lines of our faces. That theory was immediately shot down. “Get real, trying to claim ties to the Wheatley family? The audacity!” “Seriously, look at Ava Reed’s career. She’s never even been a lead. If she was Sebastian Wheatley’s cousin, would she be this pathetic?” “Definitely not his cousin. Probably some dirty little secret, a mistress on the side.” “Please. Everyone knows Sebastian and Phoebe Vance are the real deal—childhood friends, a perfect match. Why would he stoop to someone like her?” “Exactly! Even if she was his mistress, her career is still a joke! Look at Phoebe, she debuted as a leading lady. That’s the kind of power the Wheatleys wield!” “My bet? Ava’s just a shameless clout-chaser making it all up.” “She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. Faking a connection with Sebastian Wheatley? But why hasn’t he denied it?” “The man runs a multi-billion dollar empire. You think he has time for this celebrity gossip?” They had no idea how close to the truth they were. But they didn’t understand the industry, and they certainly didn’t understand Sebastian Wheatley. The man was notoriously aloof, a prince of ice who looked down on everyone. He gave no one the time of day. Once, a top-tier actress tried to throw herself at him. Sebastian simply instructed his bodyguards, “Get her out of here. If this happens again, she is to never appear in my sight line again.” Even with Phoebe Vance, his supposed childhood friend, he was polite but distant. When they spoke, he maintained a ten-foot gap between them. For a man that cold and hard-hearted to hand a tissue to a nobody actress he didn’t know? Impossible. 6 After the news broke, Director Evans immediately called me. The “meeting” was moved from his hotel room to the company’s conference room. He, the producer, and the casting director were all there, treating it as a formal, professional audition. I got the part. After that, the investors who used to harass me suddenly backed off. No one dared to touch a woman “connected to Sebastian Wheatley.” Even if it was just a rumor, it was enough to give me some breathing room. I thought I could survive on that lie for a few more years. But Phoebe wouldn’t let me. The sharp heel of her stiletto ground into the back of my hand. Phoebe leaned down, her face close to mine. “Ava Reed, you think you’re worthy of even being associated with Sebastian Wheatley?” “After tonight, everyone will know what kind of pathetic gutter trash you really are.” “A rat from the sewer belongs in the sewer. Crawl back to where you came from!” she spat. “Some people are not for vermin like you to even dream of!” “Agh—!” The heel dug deeper, a searing pain shooting up my arm. I felt the bones grind. I cried out, trying to pull my hand away, but Phoebe’s assistant stepped forward, pinning me down by my shoulders. I was forced to look up into Phoebe’s eyes, which burned with a toxic mix of rage and jealousy. And in that moment, I finally understood. It was all about Sebastian. It was over. I had borrowed the tiger’s skin to protect myself, and now, the tiger was here to rip me apart. I closed my eyes in despair. … 7 The Starlight Gala was a blinding spectacle of flashing lights. It was being broadcast live nationwide, with dozens of media outlets and millions of viewers online. Ushers practically dragged me to the backstage waiting area, my face ashen. As I glanced at the front row of the audience, my pupils contracted. The ghostly white of my face turned to a dead, hopeless gray. Phoebe had invited Sebastian Wheatley. In a few moments, in front of the entire country, Sebastian would say he didn’t know me. What hope would I have left? The investors and directors I’d fooled would tear me to shreds. And the public, who lived for this kind of drama, would have a field day. I could already picture tomorrow’s headlines, a storm of humiliation and scorn. Some people look alive, but they’re already dead. In that instant, I wished a meteor would fall from the sky and obliterate the entire venue. But my fantasy didn’t come true. Phoebe, holding the long train of her gown, walked gracefully onto the stage.

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  • The Heartbreak Manuscript

    Since I was young, I was skilled at using my kind-hearted childhood friend. I relied on him for errands and pocket money. He never complained, always spoiling me endlessly. Until the day we got engaged, and we both “awakened” at the same time. I was the cannon fodder in a novel, and he was the male lead, destined to fall in love and live happily ever after with the heroine. I was stunned and wanted to back out, but he gritted his teeth in anger, grabbed me, and dragged me straight to get married. “To hell with the novel and the script! All I know is I love you, and I’m going to grow old with you!” After marriage, he was meticulous in his care for me. We built our careers together, becoming a famous power couple in the business world. The events of the book faded into memory, and my love for him deepened. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon came to interning at our company. That day, a fire broke out in the office. In the chaotic escape, the girl knocked over a shelf, sending it crashing straight towards my husband. Without thinking, I blocked the fatal blow for him, blood instantly gushing from my head. The girl, scared and disheveled, fell to the ground screaming, “Brother Alex, help!” My husband’s face paled in horror. He ignored everything and sprinted towards her: “Elaine!” I was struck dumb, the color draining from my face. The heroine of the book was named “Elaine”. 1 Alex’s frantic shouts echoed in my ears, my heart feeling like it was being sliced into pieces. Blood streamed from my head, but I ignored the pain, my eyes following him. I saw him holding Elaine tightly, panic written all over his face. “Is your leg hurt? Elaine, don’t be scared, just hold on, I’ll take you to the hospital right now!” My wound wouldn’t stop bleeding, my breathing grew heavy. Enduring the pain, I gasped weakly: “Husband… help, help me…” However, the man so close to me seemed not to see me at all. Anxiously, he picked up Elaine and rushed downstairs. “Someone’s hurt, call an ambulance!” Only when his figure disappeared did I feel like I had fallen into an ice cave, pierced through the heart by an arrow. In the face of danger, my husband abandoned his wife, who had taken a fatal blow for him, and ran off with the person he cared about. People around me were fleeing in panic, no one paying attention to my situation. I was abandoned in a corner, helpless. The pain intensified, my eyelids grew heavier. I bit my lip until it bled, desperately telling myself: “Fiona, you can’t sleep, you have to hold on…” I swallowed the metallic taste surging in my throat and screamed with all my might. “Help… help…” What felt like a heart-wrenching scream was actually incredibly faint. My vision blurred. Before I fainted, for some reason, I remembered our wedding day. Witnessed by friends and family, Alex knelt on one knee, devoutly proclaiming his love. He hugged me tightly, promising: “I don’t believe in fate. I only know that you are the love of my life.” The affection of the past was vivid in my mind, yet now he had abandoned me without hesitation for another woman. I didn’t understand. Is this so-called “fate” truly irresistible? Driving him to fall in love with Elaine regardless of everything? Pain shot through my body. I couldn’t tell if it was heartache or the wound. Darkness fell before my eyes, and I completely lost consciousness. When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying in a hospital bed. My best friend, Chloe’s familiar voice rang in my ears. “Doctor, doctor, she’s awake!” Then she looked at me with red eyes, “You stupid girl, how did you get hurt so badly? Do you know there’s a huge hole in your head!” I was too weak to respond. At this moment, Assistant Lee rushed over with a young doctor. His eyes held the unique clear stupidity of a college student, a large intern badge hanging on his chest. Chloe exclaimed: “Why an intern? Where’s Dr. Chen?” Assistant Lee looked embarrassed: “Mr. Miller had the director call all the chief physicians for a consultation on Miss Elaine. I looked for other chief physicians, but they were all unavailable.” “What?” Chloe was dumbfounded: “Did you tell him Fiona is seriously injured and needs immediate treatment?” “I did.” Assistant Lee said awkwardly: “Mr. Miller said… Miss Elaine fell and hurt herself. She’s delicate and weak, he’s afraid of lasting effects, so he wanted the experts to give her a thorough check-up.” The assistant looked at me with increasing pity. I felt exposed and cold all over. Alex and I were a famous loving couple in our circle, partners working side by side. Everyone knew Alex treated me like his life. Once when I was kidnapped, he went alone to exchange himself for me. Even with blood streaming down his head, he shielded me without hesitation. No one could understand why the person who would give his life for me would now ignore me completely. Even worse, knowing I was seriously injured, he took away all the chief physicians. Only I knew why. Because Alex had fallen in love with Elaine, just like the plot in that book. The male lead prioritizes the heroine’s needs above all else. My heart ached as if being torn apart. My breathing became rapid, heart rate fluctuating violently. “Not good, the patient is critical,” the young doctor said anxiously. “We can’t wait, we must operate immediately!” I was pushed into the operating room. Disinfectant washed over my wound, burning and stinging like fire. I couldn’t help but groan. It hurt, it really hurt. The young doctor comforted me gently while stitching: “Hold on, it will be over soon, you’ll be fine.” The surgery lasted ten hours. Medical staff went in and out, critical condition notices issued one after another. And I had long lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the ward. Chloe looked distressed: “You’re finally awake, how do you feel?” My body ached, mouth dry. I instinctively wanted to ask if Alex had come to see me, but on second thought, I felt there was no need to humiliate myself. But Chloe understood my hesitation and said angrily: “That scumbag stayed by Elaine’s bedside for a whole day and night, never once coming to see you. He’s not human!” Chloe realized she misspoke and fell silent, then said: “The soundproofing in the VIP ward is very good. I think maybe Alex has bad hearing and didn’t hear the assistant. I’ll go ask him!” I spoke weakly: “No need. It doesn’t matter if he comes or not.” Chloe looked at me with heartache: “But you’re hurt so badly. Your head was injured, full of blood. The doctor said if the surgery was any later, you might have become a vegetable…” I lowered my eyes, “Mm, lucky.” The events of that day made me realize clearly that it was time for Alex and me to end. That shelf didn’t just hit my head; it smashed my love-struck brain. I was bloodied, a mess. In the afternoon, I leaned back in bed, resting my eyes. Two young assistants were whispering. “I really envy Miss Elaine. The boss is so handsome and loves her so much!” “Yeah, Miss Elaine just got a small scratch, and all the good doctors in the hospital went to see her. Such a big fuss!” “More than that, this morning Miss Elaine wanted pastries from Sweet Tooth. Mr. Miller drove there without a word. You know how hard it is to buy from that shop.” “Sigh, Fiona’s life is bitter too. If she wasn’t lucky, she would have died in that fire. Mr. Miller usually likes Fiona so much, but when something happens, he completely forgets his wife. Fiona is pitiful.” The voices faded away. I smiled bitterly. I had been waiting for Alex to come see me, to hear him say he fell in love with someone else, to hear him ask for a divorce, or even an explanation. An explanation of when the person who swore eternal love had a change of heart, and how he got involved with Elaine. Unfortunately, I never expected that he wouldn’t even remember me, running off to buy pastries for his “white moonlight.” In that case, I’ll be the one to let go. I called Assistant Lee: “Draft a detailed divorce agreement. Tell Alex I want a divorce.” Assistant Lee looked surprised, “Okay.” Not long after, I received a call from Alex’s assistant. He greeted me respectfully, then conveyed Alex’s message. “Fiona, Mr. Miller says Miss Elaine is the daughter of a major client. Entrusted by others, he naturally has to prioritize the company’s interests. He hopes you won’t throw a tantrum or mention divorce just because he saved someone.” “Yesterday, Mr. Miller wanted to explain to you in person, but you weren’t in the office, so he went to handle business.” “Today he has to follow up on other cooperation matters, so company affairs will trouble you to helm. Mr. Miller said he will apologize to you personally when things settle down.” Hanging up the phone, I laughed in anger. He didn’t even know I was injured! Not only that, he didn’t know I was critically injured, fighting for my life in the hospital. And on top of that, he thought I was playing the jealous wife card, threatening divorce. It was truly absurd, absurd to the point of speechlessness. But I couldn’t suppress the heartache, tears falling like rain. This time, I was completely disheartened with Alex. The doctor said I must rest well, or there would be lasting effects impacting my life. I wanted to live a few more years! Fortunately, I had a piece of warm jade that was good for health. Before I could rejoice, Alex’s assistant came again, this time eyeing the jade in my hand. “Fiona, it’s hard for me too. Mr. Miller said to give Miss Elaine whatever she wants.” “She’s in poor health and wants that piece of jade to nourish her body…” Elaine was that important in Alex’s heart. I almost lost half my life this time and urgently needed this warm jade to recover. And he, regardless of everything, wanted to snatch my things to give to Elaine to play with! With his wealth today, what couldn’t he get? Why did he have to target my things? I darkened my face, tone unfriendly: “I need the warm jade for my health. If he wants it, let him come get it from me himself.” Alex’s assistant nodded and turned to leave. A moment later, Elaine pushed open my ward door and walked in. She wore a loose patient gown, radiating a delicate pitifulness. But her words were very rude, “Fiona, Alex sent me. Give me the item, I need it for my health.” I looked at her, “Why should I give you my things?” “Because I am the one Alex holds dear.” She looked at me mockingly: “I tried so hard to start that fire. Pity, your life is tough, even that didn’t kill you!” My heart sank. That fire was her doing! “Aren’t you afraid I’ll call the police?” Elaine was fearless: “Do you have evidence?” “Let’s put it this way, from the first moment I saw Brother Alex, I knew he was the one I’ve been waiting for!” “And he knows clearly that I am the heroine of his life, and he can’t do without me!” “With his protection, I can naturally be safe and sound.” I knew she was telling the truth and fell silent. Alex was deeply in love with her now, as if bewitched. For her, he could abandon colleagues who fought alongside him, travel thousands of miles just for her smile, and for her, give me up. She glanced at the wedding diamond ring on my hand disdainfully: “Brother Alex gave you that, right? Pity, the diamond is gone.” “The wedding ring is broken, your relationship with Brother Alex is about to end too. I advise you to be sensible and leave Brother Alex proactively!” She glanced at me sideways, showing off her not-yet-showing belly. “Besides, I’m pregnant with Brother Alex’s child.” “You haven’t gotten pregnant after being married to Brother Alex for so long. Maybe your marital life isn’t very harmonious. But it’s normal. After so many years, even the best food gets boring. No wonder Brother Alex says holding your hand is like holding his own left hand with his right.” After speaking, she covered her mouth and laughed loudly. To my surprise, she had slept with Alex and even had a child! My chest prickled with pain. I stared deadly at the triumphant Elaine in front of me, enunciating each word: “Is being a mistress something to be proud of?” “In the whole city, who doesn’t know that I, Fiona, am Alex’s wife? If I release word that you are the mistress destroying my marriage.” “Do you think you and your Brother Alex will be like rats crossing the street, everyone shouting to beat them?” Elaine’s smile froze on her face. She glared angrily, bluffing: “You dare! Aren’t you afraid Brother Alex will get angry?” I smiled brightly: “You can try and see if I dare.” Elaine glared at me resentfully and left unwillingly. Just as she went out, she ran into Alex returning. She frowned and cried like a pear blossom bathed in rain. “Brother Alex, I’m so sad. The doctor said warm jade can nourish the body and is good for me.” “I was just curious to see if that warm jade is really that magical. But that person refused and scolded me out.” “Boohoo, if she doesn’t give it, fine, why scold me!” Alex’s face darkened immediately: “Who dares to bully you like this? I’ll stand up for you!” He pulled Elaine, striding towards my ward. “How much is that warm jade worth? Name a price, I’ll pay double. But you must apologize to my woman!” Before entering, Alex’s interrogation came through the door. “I also want to see who is so arrogant to touch my person!” He embraced Elaine and pushed the door open decisively. He saw me sitting on the hospital bed, cooperating with the nurse cleaning my wound— 2 “Fiona?!” Alex subconsciously let go of Elaine, looking at me in surprise. “Why are you injured?” His expression didn’t look like he was lying, but I found it laughable! We were husband and wife, yet he knew nothing about my situation. “We were at the fire scene together. How do you think I got hurt?” When the shelf fell, I protected him without thinking. If not for me, he would be the one in the hospital bed now. Alex looked at me in panic, then strode to me, nervously checking my injury. My wound reopened, bloody and terrible. Alex was heartbroken, wanting to touch but daring not to, afraid of hurting me again. “Fiona, Elaine was injured at the time. I was anxious and didn’t think much…” Look, Elaine. How affectionately he called her. Even right in front of me, he didn’t know to avoid it, or maybe he didn’t think he needed to. I glanced at him with a faint smile: “I think you didn’t even remember I existed.” “No… I just thought you’ve always been disciplined and healthy, while Elaine is delicate and weak, needing more care, so…” He carefully explained the reason, but I found it incredibly piercing. His high-sounding excuses turned into swords, ruthlessly piercing my riddled heart. I clutched my chest, unable to hold back tears amidst the dense pain. Just because Elaine is weak, I deserve to be abandoned by him without looking back? But I am his lawfully wedded wife, the one Alex promised to grow old with. Most heartbreakingly, how did Elaine get inserted into the company by Alex without anyone noticing? HR rules are strict, the manager was promoted by me. How much effort did Alex spend to achieve this? Moreover, his current rhetoric, no matter who he tells it to, no one would really believe it. I don’t understand. Since the person in his heart has changed from me to Elaine, why bother weaving lies to deceive me? Maybe he forgot, I was never a flower raised in a greenhouse. I have the ability to distinguish right from wrong. I’ve always been strong, never willing to show weakness. When I stayed up all night modifying design plans only to have them stolen, I laughed it off. Accused of plagiarism, I gritted my teeth and opened new chapters, speaking with capability. Even hospitalized from a car accident, I remained calm and composed. But these days, experiencing these things forced my tear point ridiculously low. My eyes haven’t been unswollen since the accident. Alex knew my nature well. Seeing my reddened eyes, he panicked completely. He nervously took out tissues, gently wiping my tears, deep affection in his eyes. “Fiona, why are you crying? Don’t be like this, it’s all my fault. Hit me, just don’t get sick from anger!” I looked at him, tears falling drop by drop. This was the person I loved for so long! But at this moment, he was unrecognizable, terrifyingly strange. Not far away, Elaine stared at me with a cold face, while I was immersed in my own world, unaware. Sadness aside, I didn’t forget his original intention of bringing Elaine to find me. I couldn’t understand him. At this point, was it necessary to be hypocritical in front of me? I stared at him silently, patiently waiting for his explanation. Alex looked away first, unable to hide the guilt in his eyes. He knew what I wanted to know, just as I was clear about his distraction. We confronted silently for a long time before he spoke. “Back when I returned to school for a speech, by chance, I saved Elaine who was being harassed.” “Since then, she got my contact info from somewhere and kept pestering me to chat. If I ignored her, she would cry heartbreakingly. I softened and…” “She graduated a while ago, fought with her dad claiming independence. She was alone outside, I was afraid something would happen to her, so I let her work in the company.” Returning to school for a speech was two years ago. So they had contact that early, and shamelessly entangled behind my back. And Alex hid all this seamlessly. I don’t understand. Is the plot’s magic really irresistible? Even though I made so much effort, even tried hard to miss the node of their meeting. Even so, I couldn’t stop them from meeting, nor stop them from falling in love regardless. As a CEO with assets over hundreds of millions, Alex had so many ways to settle someone. But he chose to do it himself, which meant he couldn’t let her go, nor did he trust anyone but himself to take care of her. So, they had an affair under my nose and created a life. I was in a trance. Is this fate? No, I don’t accept it! The lover who held me, promising “three thousand waters, only taking one scoop,” finally turned into a bubble and vanished without a trace. And I, having accumulated enough disappointment, completely gave up. Heartbroken to the extreme, I felt unprecedented exhaustion. The past was vivid, but I had no strength to love him anymore. I pushed his hand away distantly and firmly, saying seriously: “Alex, let’s divorce.”

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  • One of the Boys

    At a New Year’s Eve dinner, a “bro-girl” I’d never met sat next to my husband. After the fourth time she hugged my husband’s arm, I threw up all over the floor. My husband was nervous and helped me catch my breath. But the “bro-girl” raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms: “Alex, this wife you found… she’s kinda weak, huh?” Ah, so she’s a “Pick Me” girl. But she doesn’t know. When it comes to playing innocent and manipulative, I’m the grandmaster. 1 The atmosphere in the private room became weirdly awkward. Alex frowned. “Bella, stop talking nonsense.” His hand patted my back. Bella lowered her voice a bit: “Back when we drank all night and woke up in the same bed, you didn’t throw up.” Someone in the room immediately tried to smooth things over: “Sister-in-law, that’s all in the past. Don’t listen to Bella running her mouth.” Bella paused. Then someone covered her mouth. She pried the hand off her face and pouted: “Can’t even tell the truth? Having a woman around is so troublesome.” Nausea surged again, and I choked up, tears welling in my eyes. I looked up with red eyes. “Alex, did I ruin your fun? I’m sorry…” Alex looked heartbroken. “Honey, if you’re uncomfortable, let’s leave.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bella’s face change instantly. She grabbed the hem of Alex’s shirt: “I just got back from overseas! Now that you have a wife, you don’t want your bros anymore?” Alex’s face darkened. “Bella, my wife feels sick.” She craned her neck to look at me. “Sister-in-law, are you unhappy because we’re too close?” I weakly collapsed into Alex’s arms. “I feel a bit sick. Miss, if you insist on keeping Alex, can you let me go first?” He frowned deeply. Supporting my waist, he said, “I’ll take you home first.” Alex led me out. “You guys keep drinking. My wife isn’t feeling well. Next round is on me.” The woman behind us wasn’t happy. “With a family, do you have no freedom at all? Alex, you’re such a buzzkill!” Alex didn’t stop. He pulled me into the car and called a designated driver in one go. He rubbed my back in the car. “Claire, still feeling bad? Should we go to the hospital first?” The nausea subsided a bit with the cold wind. I put some distance between us. “When did you and Bella end up in the same bed?” Alex froze. He looked away unnaturally: “That was way before I knew you. Today’s dinner, I didn’t know she was coming…” He held my hand again, fawning: “Besides, we were both drunk back then. Nothing happened, I swear!” The designated driver knocked on the window at this moment. Alex pulled my hand into his arms, full of worry. “Driver, please drive a bit slower. My wife isn’t feeling well.” 2 The next day, I was woken up by nausea again. I dry heaved over the toilet a few times. Alex immediately ran out of the bedroom. “Honey, still feeling sick? I’ll go buy you medicine right now!” He ran frantically. Leaving his phone on the bed. Just then, the phone started ringing non-stop. I wiped my mouth and picked it up. I saw a group chat of four people on WhatsApp. A girl named “Bubbles” was spamming messages. [Bros, wake up! Sun’s burning your ass!] [I’m going to each of your houses for New Year’s greetings. Is Big Bro’s red envelope ready?] [@Alex, how’s your precious wife? Let’s hang out today, don’t run away again. Your family is such a buzzkill! Or just don’t bring your wife!] [I don’t care, this year you have to give me a big red envelope, bigger than your wife’s! Or I won’t forgive you, bro!] Alex ran back excitedly at this moment. “Honey, my brain! The pharmacy asked if you might be pregnant. Let’s take a test first, then go to the hospital!” His gaze fell on the phone in my hand. His expression wasn’t comfortable. I handed the phone over: “Your bro is asking for a red envelope, bigger than mine.” Thought about it. I added: “She said she’s looking for you to play tonight, telling you not to bring your wife.” Alex took it awkwardly. “Bella has no filter, she’s carefree, speaks without thinking. Honey, don’t be unhappy.” I stared at him quietly. Alex hesitated for a moment, then pressed the voice message button in front of me: “Don’t talk nonsense for no reason. If my wife doesn’t go, I won’t go.” 3 I tested my morning urine in the bathroom. Several test strips showed two lines. Alex was overjoyed, hugging me and promising: “Honey, don’t worry, I won’t make you unhappy again.” “Just happily give birth to the baby, you’ll be a great hero.” He rushed me to the hospital for a blood test. Confirmed the pregnancy. Only then did he call his family: “Mom, I’m bringing you a surprise later!” The car sped all the way to the family estate. Alex snatched the gift box from my hand, his face beaming. Before even entering the door, he shouted: “Mom, brought you good news!” Just as he stepped inside. A red figure flew over, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Alex, why are you so late? The bros have been waiting for you forever!” She hugged Alex’s neck, one hand wandering a bit too low. Then she met my face. Seemed startled, let go, and acted annoyed: “Shit, force of habit. Forgot you’re a married man.” Alex’s clothes were messed up by her. He subconsciously straightened them, then looked at me. “Claire…” Before he could finish. I walked over and smoothed his collar. Smoothing and smoothing, my eyes turned red. “Miss, do you hate the shirts I ironed flat…” Bella was stunned. Eyes widened in surprise. Alex said. Every night, seeing me iron his collar flat was his happiest moment. Hearing this, he frowned. “Bella, you’re grown up, don’t always be so rough.” My mother-in-law came downstairs at this moment. Seeing me, she smiled elegantly. “Claire is back.” Alex picked up the gift box that fell on the ground earlier. Pulled me to greet her: “Mom, you don’t even miss your son, just Claire.” The scene. Harmonious and happy. I looked back; Bella was staring at me. Her lips pressed into a straight line. I called her out by name: “Miss Bella, why do you look so unhappy?” Her expression visibly panicked. Everyone in the room looked at her. Bella stammered: “I, I… Claire, you must have seen wrong…” 4 At the dinner table. Alex couldn’t wait to announce the news of my pregnancy. My mother-in-law was overjoyed. Besides the red envelope she prepared, she transferred money to me in front of everyone. Bella’s chopsticks dropped abruptly to the floor. My mother-in-law paused. Frowned slightly: “Bella, you’re not getting any younger either. You should hurry up and get married and have kids.” Bella’s face looked bad. “Auntie Sterling, I’m not in a hurry.” My mother-in-law acted casual: “Heard your mom say she’s anxious just a few days ago, waiting to hold a granddaughter with me.” Bella forced a smile. “Auntie Sterling, I’m really fine.” She suddenly looked at me: “Besides, even if I don’t have kids, won’t Alex’s kids take care of me in old age?” My face changed. But I heard my mother-in-law slam down her juice glass. Face stern. “Even with a Western education, you can’t make jokes like that.” “Is the culture overseas so loose now that you can joke about other people’s children?” The more she spoke, the angrier she got, eventually picking up her phone. “I have to call your mom, properly manage your way of expression.” Bella really turned pale this time. Kicked Alex’s chair for help. “Say something for your bro!” I picked up the toughest fried meatball on the table and stuffed it into Alex’s mouth. “Hubby, taste this for me~”

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  • The Statue Game

    1 I’d been dead for four days, my body a statue of ice in a cabin buried by a blizzard. But my five-year-old daughter, Annie, thought I was just playing a game of Statues. Starving, she’d started gnawing on an expired sausage stick. Using the last bar of battery on my phone, she dialed the only number in my contacts. The call connected, and Lynn’s impatient voice barked through the speaker. “Ethan, if you’re calling to make excuses or beg, don’t bother.” Annie clutched the phone, the plastic wrapper still in her mouth, her words muffled by sobs. “Mommy, Daddy’s been playing Statues for three days. There are… there are little black bugs on him now.” On the other end, the sharp tap of fingernails against a desk. Lynn’s tone turned even more scornful. “He’s stooping to disgusting lies like that just to dodge his sentence?” “Tell him to stop playing dead, or I don’t mind coming to collect his corpse myself.” Floating in the air, I desperately tried to snatch the phone away, but I could only watch helplessly as Annie poked my rigid cheek. “But Daddy is so cold,” she whimpered. “I can’t wake him up.” A dead silence fell on Lynn’s end, followed by the frantic wail of police sirens. I sighed, a bitter smile on my spectral lips. The snow, it seemed, couldn’t hide a body forever. … The screech of tires cut through the silence outside. I hovered in the air, looking down at my own stiff corpse with a sense of relief. These were the people I had contacted before I died. I’d sent them a scheduled message: if they didn’t hear from me in three days, they were to come collect my body and take Annie to my father’s place in the countryside. My life had been a mess, and I hadn’t left Annie with a good name. If she ended up in foster care, branded as the daughter of a traitor, the other kids would bully her to death. The woman in the lead took off her hat as she saw me on the bed, her eyes red as she gave a crisp salute. Annie, terrified, shrank into the corner of the bed, her small hands clutching a fistful of my shirt. “Who are you? Don’t take my daddy!” The woman moved to pick Annie up. Annie lunged forward and bit down hard on the back of her hand. “You’re bad people! All of you! When my mommy gets here, she’ll arrest you all!” I wanted to laugh, but I also wanted to cry. My silly girl, your mother is the one who wants to arrest me most. The woman didn’t say a word, just gently covered my face with a white sheet. The moment they lifted my body, the roar of another engine echoed from outside. Several police cruisers tore through the snow, their red and blue lights flashing violently against the white landscape. Lynn, dressed in her sharp police uniform, strode into the yard. “Stop! Put him down!” She marched forward, reaching to rip the white sheet away, but the lead woman blocked her path. The two sides stood in a tense standoff, the air crackling with hostility. When Annie saw Lynn, her face lit up as if she’d seen her savior. She scrambled out from behind the woman in black and stumbled towards Lynn, hugging her leg. “Mommy! Officer! Please save Daddy!” “These bad people are trying to take him away!” Lynn looked down at the child who barely reached her thigh. For a fleeting moment, a flicker of confusion crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by disgust. She shoved Annie away. The force was so strong that Annie fell backward, landing hard in the snow. “Who’s your mommy? Don’t call me that.” I drifted over, wanting to help Annie up, but my hands passed right through her. I screamed at Lynn, “Be gentle! She’s only five!” But she couldn’t hear me. And in that moment of distraction, the group quickly loaded my stretcher into their vehicle and sped away, leaving a cloud of disturbed snow in their wake. Furious, Lynn kicked at a nearby snowdrift. “Ethan! What a clever trick! “Faking your own death to escape? You’ll really do anything, won’t you?” She turned and scanned the small room. The simple bed was now empty, leaving only a worn-out quilt. She felt around under the pillow and pulled out a photograph. It was the only one we had together. In the picture, we were in our graduation robes, our smiles wide and full of life. Lynn stared at it, a complex emotion in her eyes that quickly soured into pure derision. “Keeping this? Trying to play the sympathy card?” “In your dreams.” Rip. She tore the photo in two. She tossed the pieces to the ground and ground them into the slush with the heel of her boot. I watched our smiling faces get trampled into the snow and felt my heart clench as if caught in a vise. That photo had been the one thing that got me through the last five years. Lynn paced the room one last time. Convinced there were no other clues, she turned to leave. Annie was still sitting in the snow, crying, her little hands red from the cold. Lynn looked down at her. “Stop crying.” “Your father doesn’t want you. He left with those people.” “He abandoned you. You were just a burden to him.” Annie sobbed, her big eyes filled with confusion. “Daddy didn’t run away… Daddy’s sleeping…” “Shut up!” Lynn grabbed the back of Annie’s collar and lifted her like a stray kitten, shoving her into the back of the police car. “Since he doesn’t want you, you’re coming with me.” “Let’s see just how long he can stay hidden when I have you in my grasp.” The car door slammed shut. I spun in a panic, forcing myself to drift into the car and stay close to my daughter. 2 The car sped back to Lynn’s home. The moment the door opened, a wave of warm air washed over us. Annie’s frozen little body finally shivered, and she let out a huge sneeze. Lynn tossed her onto the sofa, then walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself half a glass of whiskey. “Alright, talk. Where did your father go?” Annie huddled in the corner, looking at her with timid eyes. “Daddy… was taken by bad people…” “Still lying!” Annie flinched, fresh tears welling up in her big eyes. “I’m not lying… Daddy had bugs on him, and he wouldn’t move…” Lynn let out a cold laugh, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. “Ethan taught you that, didn’t he?” “Taught you to act pathetic, to lie, to manipulate people’s sympathy?” She stood up, glass in hand, and loomed over Annie. “Let me tell you, that trick doesn’t work on me.” “You’d better tell me the truth. Where did you agree to meet them? What’s the code word?” Annie had no idea what she was talking about. She clutched her stomach and whispered, “Ma’am, I’m hungry.” Lynn froze for a second, the disgust in her eyes deepening. “Hungry? You have the appetite to eat? You really are his child. Heartless, both of you.” Despite her words, she got up and went to the kitchen. I floated in the air, taking in the apartment. Every trace of me had been scrubbed clean. A pair of men’s slippers sat by the door. Two toothbrushes were on the bathroom counter. They belonged to Leo. I remembered the last time I saw her, before I left. She was with him. I saw Lynn gently wipe a bit of cake from the corner of his mouth, her eyes filled with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. The study door was slightly ajar. I couldn’t resist drifting inside. A travel brochure for a honeymoon in the Maldives was spread open on the desk. Next to the picture of a honeymoon suite were her handwritten notes, detailing their wedding plans. My heart soured as I looked at it all. But I quickly pushed the feeling down. It was for the best. Truly. She had a new life now. That was so much better than being in love with a dead man. A noise came from the kitchen. Lynn emerged with a bowl of noodles. It was a simple broth with a single fried egg on top, slightly burnt around the edges. I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. I was the one who taught her how to make this, years ago. She was always clumsy, never quite getting the heat right. Back then, she’d work herself to the bone, always forgetting to eat. I was worried she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself when I was gone. So I spent a week patiently teaching her a few simple, quick meals. This noodle soup was one of them. Lynn placed the bowl on the coffee table with a thud. “Eat.” Annie was starving. She grabbed the chopsticks and began to devour the noodles, not even caring that they were hot. Lynn sat across from her, watching, her expression unreadable. After two large bowls, Annie wiped her mouth and gave Lynn a tentative, eager smile. “Thank you, ma’am.” “This is really yummy.” “It tastes like my daddy’s.” The hand swirling the whiskey glass stopped mid-air. For a second, I saw a flash of shock in Lynn’s eyes. But she quickly composed herself, a sarcastic smirk playing on her lips. “Hah. So, over there, he actually found the time to cook such common food himself?” Annie nodded earnestly, her eyes clear as crystal. “He does! Daddy makes the best noodles!” “Even though… even though we often didn’t have money for eggs.” “But Daddy would always give me the only egg we had, just like you did.” Lynn’s face darkened. She slammed her glass on the table, the dark red liquid sloshing violently. “That’s enough. He abandoned you. Why are you still remembering what he tastes like?” Just then, the lock on the front door clicked. 3 Leo walked in, briefcase in hand. The smile on his face froze when he saw Annie. “Lynn… who’s this?” Lynn didn’t even look up. “Ethan’s. He abandoned her and ran off.” Leo visibly relaxed, then looked at her with confusion. “This child… you don’t recognize her?” A knife twisted in my heart. It wasn’t that she didn’t recognize her. She had forgotten. Five years ago, she’d been in a car crash trying to protect Annie. When she woke up from her severe injuries, her mind, as a defense mechanism against the trauma, sealed away all memories of our daughter. Shock and pity flashed in Leo’s eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but all that came out was a sigh. He changed into his slippers and walked over to Annie, crouching down. “Hey there, little one. What’s your name?” Annie shrank back, a little wary. “My name is Annie.” “Annie…” Leo repeated the name, his eyes turning red. “That’s a beautiful name.” He reached out to pat her head. But Annie turned away. “Mister, I want my daddy.” Leo’s hand froze in mid-air. He awkwardly pulled it back and stood up, looking at Lynn’s back with a gentle voice. “Lynn, since the child is here, let’s just take care of her for now.” “After all… it’s not her fault.” Lynn snorted but said nothing. And so, Annie stayed. That evening, Annie timidly tugged on Lynn’s sleeve. “I miss Daddy. Can we play Statues?” Lynn was flipping through a case file, not even bothering to look up. “I don’t have time.” The light in my daughter’s eyes dimmed. She wrung her small hands. “It’s the game Daddy played with me the most… He would always make me be a statue in my room while he talked with guests outside for a long time.” She hugged her knees, her voice muffled and sad. “I know Daddy didn’t want them to know about me. He didn’t want a burden like me.” “He… he didn’t really like me. He didn’t want his friends to meet me.” “So I have to be extra good, to make him like me a little more.” As she spoke, tears rolled down her cheeks. I floated in the air, my heart shattering. I had always thought she was so obedient, so easy to care for. I never knew that beneath that quiet compliance lay so much fear and insecurity. I thought hiding her in her room was the best way to protect her. I never imagined it would become the darkest shadow of her childhood. I reached out, my hand passing through her face again and again. “Annie, Daddy loves you more than anything. Daddy didn’t mean it…” Leo couldn’t stand it anymore. He walked over and gently pulled her into his arms, comforting her softly. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. Your daddy must have had his reasons.” Lynn looked at Leo, her gaze softening. “You’re still so soft-hearted. After everything Ethan did to you, you’re still willing to comfort his daughter.” Leo just held the child, looking up at Lynn with a complicated expression. After hearing the child’s cries, Lynn’s brow furrowed. She was silent for a long time before finally speaking to the child in Leo’s arms. “Your father… he’s not a good person.” “The people he associated with weren’t good people either.” “He probably kept you away from them to protect you.” Annie’s eyes instantly lit up. But just as quickly, she struggled out of Leo’s arms, stood before Lynn, and loudly retorted. “Daddy is a good person!” “Sometimes he would put black stuff on his face and wear weird clothes, but he never did anything bad!” “And sometimes he would cry late at night, looking at your picture!” Lynn was stunned. “My picture?” Annie pulled a small, crumpled piece of paper from a pocket sewn into her clothes. It was a clipping from a newspaper. It showed Lynn in her police uniform, receiving an award. The image was blurry, but Annie had preserved it carefully, sealing it with clear tape. “Daddy said Mommy is a superhero, that she catches bad guys.” “Daddy said that when he finished playing his last game, he would bring me to find Mommy.” Annie held up the small clipping as if it were an article of faith. “Ma’am, are you really my mommy?” “If you are, why do you say bad things about Daddy?” Lynn’s pupils contracted violently. Her hand trembled as she reached for the clipping. Just as her fingertips were about to touch it, she snatched her hand back. “Enough!” “Stop the act!” “To clean up his own name, Ethan even taught you this brainwashing routine?” “He really went to great lengths!” She strode to the door, grabbed her coat, and stormed out. The newspaper clipping fluttered from Annie’s hand to the floor. She stared blankly at the door, the light in her eyes fading, bit by bit. “Mommy… doesn’t want me either?” I knelt on the floor, my arms wrapping around the ghost of her small body. And I wept until my soul ached. 4 The next morning, before the sun was up, Lynn returned, bringing a chill with her. She had clearly been out all night, her eyes were bloodshot. “Get up. We’re leaving.” She roughly pulled the still-sleeping Annie from the bed. Leo, not yet dressed, heard the commotion and hurried out. “So early? The child hasn’t even had breakfast.” “She won’t starve.” Lynn dragged Annie towards the door. Annie didn’t even have time to put her shoes on properly; one heel was crushed under her foot. She didn’t dare cry, just clenched her small fists. My heart ached for her. I spun in a frantic circle, wanting to lunge at Lynn and push her away, but I passed through her solid form time and time again. “Lynn, what are you doing?! Let her put her shoes on right!” I screamed until I was hoarse, uselessly trying to fix Annie’s shoe, my hand passing through her tiny ankle. Seeing her stumble as she was dragged away felt like a knife twisting in my chest. On the road, Lynn drove like a maniac. Five hours later, the car screeched to a halt in front of an old, rundown apartment building. This was where I grew up. Where my father lived. To make him believe I had truly gone bad, I had stood in front of all our neighbors, called him a useless old man, and smashed everything in our home. My father had collapsed on the spot. When he woke up, he disowned me. All these years, he believed I was out there committing heinous crimes. Lynn hauled Annie up the stairs and banged on the door. After a long while, the door opened a crack, revealing my father’s old, weary face. He was stunned to see Lynn, but his expression quickly turned to ice. “If you’re here for that ungrateful son of mine, you’ve come to the wrong place.” “As far as I’m concerned, I never had that beast for a son.” Lynn pushed Annie forward. “This is his child.” “He ran off. The child is yours now.” My father looked down at the scrawny little girl in front of him. His eyes filled with immediate disgust. “I won’t accept the bastard child of that animal!” He started to slam the door shut. Lynn braced her hand against it. “Sir, you’re her grandfather. If you don’t take her, who will?” My father’s hand was shaking. After a moment’s hesitation, he looked closely at Annie’s face, a face so much like my own, and tears suddenly streamed down his cheeks. I remember my father as a man who could hold up the sky. After my mother died, he raised me alone, never shedding a tear no matter how hard life got. But now, looking at my child, he was sobbing like a helpless boy. I wanted so badly to rush over and hug him. But my hands could only pass through his shoulders, stooped from years of hard labor. Dad, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry… “What a sin…” “What a terrible sin!” “That damn kid… if he wanted to ruin his own life, fine, but to bring a child into the world to suffer with him!” His words were harsh, but he let go of the doorknob. “Come in.” “But I’m telling you now, I can’t guarantee I can provide for her. I don’t have much of a pension, and I have my own medical bills.” Lynn took a card from her wallet and threw it on the shoe cabinet. “There’s ten thousand dollars on here.” “It should cover her expenses for a few years.” With that, she turned to leave, as if staying a second longer would contaminate her. Just as she turned, a steady set of footsteps echoed from the stairwell. A middle-aged woman in a gray trench coat appeared at the top of the stairs. She was carrying a black briefcase, her expression solemn. The moment she saw Annie, her eyes reddened. She strode forward, knelt down, and touched Annie’s head with a trembling hand. “The resemblance… it’s uncanny.” “This must be Ethan’s child, isn’t she?” Lynn’s face was cold. “Director Evans, this child is a mess left behind by that fugitive, Ethan.” “I wouldn’t touch her, you might catch something.” Director Evans shot to her feet, her eyes suddenly sharp as daggers. “Lynn, you will be silent.” She snapped, cutting Lynn off. Then, she took an envelope and a deep red velvet box from her briefcase. She held them out to my father with both hands, her voice heavy with respect. “Sir, I am so sorry. I’m late.”

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  • The Face of Betrayal

    I estimated my SAT score to be 1400, while Chloe, a fellow scholarship student, estimated hers at 1500. My boyfriend broke up with me on the spot, and I was promptly kicked out of the class group chat. Facing everyone’s mockery, my expression didn’t change a bit. Because in my past life, Chloe asked me for my estimated score, and I truthfully answered 1550+. I also revealed my true identity to her: I had been switched at birth with the richest girl in our class. She excitedly toasted me with a glass of wine. But when I woke up the next day, I found myself with Chloe’s face. News of the heiress of the Lin Group reuniting with her family popped up on my phone, and I watched helplessly as my own face appeared on the screen. I tried to leave, but the door was locked. Eventually, I was murdered, my body dumped in a stinking ditch on the outskirts of the city. In the end, it was the “fake heiress,” the spoiled and willful girl I had resented for so long, who sensed something was wrong and sought justice for me. Opening my eyes again, I was back at the graduation party right after the college entrance exams. 1 “Susan, tell us your score! Let us be amazed by our top student.” Chloe ran up to me, eyes shining, drawing the attention of our classmates. Someone sighed, “Susan really is a winner in life. Always top of the class, and dating the school hottie.” “Soon we won’t even be in the same world. Susan will be fighting off offers from Harvard and Stanford.” My boyfriend, Justin, couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He sat beside me, looking at me tenderly. Everyone seemed happy for me, especially Chloe, whose eyes were practically glued to me. We were similar in build, the two poorest scholarship students in our grade. I once considered her my sister, telling her everything without reservation. But I never expected that this so-called best friend was ready to swap faces and replace me tonight. “Susan, don’t hide it! Show us your estimated score. I’m ready to toast to your success.” Chloe couldn’t hold back any longer. She pried open my hand and grabbed the test paper I was holding down. But the next second, her expression froze. The multiple-choice questions were mostly wrong, and many of the long-answer questions were crossed out. Next to the science section, the score was a glaring 600 out of 1600. Chloe stumbled back two steps, looking at me in shock. “Did you fall asleep during the exam? How did you do so badly?” I lowered my eyes, pinching my thigh hard to force out tears. “I didn’t want to either, but I had gastroenteritis during the exams. I left half the math section blank…” “I just hope I can get into a community college. I estimate I’ll get around 900.” As soon as I finished speaking, Justin stood up abruptly, his face pale. “Susan, I think we should take a break.” “You know your family situation. Your dad is an alcoholic, your mom is bedridden. If you failed the SATs, what makes you worthy of me?!” He grabbed the paper from the table and smashed it onto my head, moving away from me as if I were something dirty. The sharp paper scratched my face. All I could see were looks of disdain from my classmates. “900? We’re both scholarship students, but Chloe estimated 1500!” “I thought I could rely on you in the future. Didn’t expect you to be such a failure. Just wait to rot in poverty with your loser parents!” The class president even kicked me out of the group chat right in front of me, claiming my existence lowered the class’s standard. I looked at these people calmly, my expression unwavering. I was just wondering: Chloe, where did you get the dark magic to swap faces? 2 “Susan, 900? Are you kidding me?” Chloe narrowed her eyes, her tone heavy. “You know the state scholarship alone is worth tens of thousands. With that money, your mom’s illness could be treated.” I showed a painful expression, scratching my hair hard. “I want that too! Maybe the answer key is wrong? Why did I do so poorly?” The class president and others sneered. “It shows God has eyes. We were tired of you showing off your grades. You were so smug every time the teacher praised you, right?” “Susan, why are you still standing there? Get out! You don’t think you’re still qualified to be at our party, do you?” Just as everyone was piling on the insults, a cold voice rang out from the door. “Wow, there really are people who look down on others like dogs.” The famous spoiled little princess, dressed in a black dress, strode in. Perhaps by coincidence, she stood in front of me. “I’m paying for this party. If I say Susan stays, she stays.” The girl lifted her beautiful chin slightly. I used to hate her arrogance, but right now, I wanted to hug her. In my past life, she was the only one who realized something was wrong and tried to gather evidence of my murder, only to be discovered by Chloe. Such a clean-freak girl ended up dying in the most humiliating way in a dark alley. Seeing Lily stand up for me, everyone fell silent and scattered. Only Chloe walked over, handing a glass of wine to Lily. “Lily, thank you for inviting us tonight. Graduation is coming up, I want to toast you.” I was shocked to realize this was the exact glass of wine I drank in my past life. Could the face-swapping be related to this wine, and Chloe had changed her target? Seeing Lily about to drink, I didn’t have time to think. I pretended to twist my ankle and bumped into Lily. The cold wine soaked the girl’s dress instantly. Her eyes widened, hand still holding the glass. “Susan, what are you doing?!” Justin rushed over and pushed me away. He took out a handkerchief, looking at Lily with concern. “Lily, are you okay? God, such a beautiful dress ruined. Susan is always so clumsy. You’re too kind, standing up for her just now.” “…Although Susan and I broke up, I still apologize for her.” Lily remained silent, her lips tight, as if thinking. I apologized repeatedly, glancing up at Chloe as if by accident. Sure enough, a flash of panic crossed her eyes. 3 “Don’t touch me with your dirty hands, get lost!” Lily’s temper exploded. She slapped Justin’s hand away and stormed off. I became the target again and had to leave voluntarily. After returning home, I received a message from Justin. [Susan, don’t take the grades too hard.] I raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t blocked me? What did he mean? The next second: [Tonight’s dinner cost $25 per person. Since we broke up, you shouldn’t take advantage of me, right?] I was speechless. I Venmoed him the money and blocked him immediately. That night, I locked my door tight, afraid to sleep. Terrified that if I closed my eyes, I would return to the nightmare of my past life. Fortunately, when dawn broke, I rushed to the mirror. My face was still mine. I almost cried with relief. I immediately took the evidence my adoptive parents gave me to find Lily and talk face-to-face. In the coffee shop, the girl looked at me thoughtfully and accepted the reality calmly. She murmured: “No wonder that dream felt so real. So you really are my parents’ biological daughter. Then, everything that happened later must be true too.” At this moment, I realized Lily, who also died tragically, had been reborn too. “Lily, I’m in the same situation. What you dreamed actually happened in the past life.” “Last night in the past life, Chloe swapped faces with me. She took my identity, went to the Lin family, and committed many atrocities.” I held her hand, looking at her seriously. “I hope we can form an alliance to face this together. Trust me, I genuinely want to cooperate with you.” Feeling the warmth in my palm, Lily held my hand back. “Susan, I’m sorry for occupying your place for so many years. From today on, I’ll cooperate with whatever you say.” “That damn Chloe, I really want to find someone to just end her!” 4 To avoid alerting the enemy, Lily and I agreed to pretend we knew nothing and investigate Chloe’s face-swapping technique first. When I returned home for dinner, my adoptive mother told me Chloe had visited. Specifically asking about my estimated score. My chopsticks shook. “Susan, it’s okay. You don’t have to hide your exam failure from us. We know.” My adoptive mother’s eyes reddened. “It’s all my fault for being selfish back then, switching you and Lily. When you return to the Lin family, you’ll have a great life.” My adoptive father, who loved to drink, also said seriously: “I can see that classmate of yours is full of schemes and doesn’t genuinely wish you well. Stay away from her.” “I’ve seen plenty of people like her. Don’t tell her about reuniting with your family; she’ll definitely try to ruin it.” I gratefully agreed. For this meal, my adoptive mother made my favorite braised ribs, lamb stew with eggplant, and a fragrant bone broth. To be fair, although my adoptive mother switched me back then, they really gave me the best they could over the years. I want to return to my original life path, but it’s hard for me to hold a grudge against them. After dinner, I went back to my room and checked my phone. My social media feed was flooded. Justin and Chloe had gone public. Justin even posted a long text subtly hinting that he was with me out of pity because I pestered him. Claiming he never really liked me. Now he found his true love and hoped to walk together with her. I knew Justin was realistic and selfish, but I didn’t expect him to stoop this low. I couldn’t help but comment: [? Didn’t we just break up yesterday?] Justin’s friends immediately jumped in to attack: [Come on, Susan, you still have the nerve to pester Justin? With your 900 SAT score, I feel embarrassed for you.] [Chloe and Justin both estimated 1500+. In the future, you’ll be screwing bolts in a factory while they work in offices. You’re not in the same world.] Justin liked this comment and replied to me: [Susan, we are already on parallel lines. I’ve done my best regarding the past. Please don’t disturb my happiness anymore.] Before we got together, his grades were terrible. I’ve been dragging him to study all these years. Even right before the SATs, I sacrificed my own review time to help him organize notes. I didn’t expect to get this result in the end.

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  • The Corpse Bride of Blackwood Creek

    My sister was assaulted by the Mayor’s intellectually disabled son. Unable to bear the humiliation, she drowned herself in the river. To save face—and make a profit—my parents took the hush money and buried her in a rush. But on the seventh day after her death, her grave was dug up. Her body had been stolen by a neighboring family who had just lost their son, intended for a “Spirit Wedding.” My entire family charged over to snatch the body back. The family guarded the coffin, adorned with grotesque wedding symbols, refusing to let go. “I dug up this bride fair and square! She belongs to my son now!” My parents, eyes gleaming with greed, demanded fifty thousand dollars to let them keep my sister’s corpse. What they didn’t know was that the thing sleeping in that coffin… wasn’t my sister. 1 When my sister Sarah’s body was hauled up from the riverbank, the whole village of Blackwood Creek came to watch. Death wasn’t rare in these parts. What was rare was the state of her body. Sarah looked like she was eight months pregnant. Her belly was swollen tight against her wet clothes. It was unnatural. The town’s unlicensed medic, Old Doc, claimed it was pregnancy. He pointed to the dark line on her stomach. He said she must have been hiding it. But I saw the bruises. I saw the marks on her wrists and ankles, like she’d been chained. “If she drowned,” I asked, my voice trembling, “where did those bruises come from?” Old Doc insisted it was drowning. My mother slapped me across the face. “Your sister was a slut! She shamed this family hooking up with men! You want to be just like her?” I covered my stinging mouth, looking down, too scared to speak. The men in the crowd started their whispers, spitting their tobacco and their lies. “Must have been carrying a bastard. Killed herself out of shame.” “Yeah, look at her. Always was a tease.” “The Mayor’s boy is simple-minded; he wouldn’t know how to touch a woman like that.” I stood there, chest tight with rage. Just a week before she went missing, Sarah had her period. She ruined a pair of jeans. My whole family knew she couldn’t be pregnant. But my parents turned a blind eye. No one defended her. They covered my mouth. I knew why. They wanted to use Sarah’s death to extort money. Sure enough, Mom threw herself onto Sarah’s wet corpse, wailing. “My daughter was a pure girl! Who did this to her?! Who got her pregnant?!” Silence. The Mayor, afraid of a scandal, offered money to make it go away. My parents’ attitude flipped instantly. They happily pocketed the blood money, already planning how to use it to buy my little brother a new car or a wife of his own someday. Fearing complications, the Mayor ordered my parents to bury Sarah quickly in a shallow grave in the back woods. That’s when the Stranger passed through. He was a drifter, dressed in dark clothes, claiming to know the occult. He said Sarah didn’t die clean. A simple burial wouldn’t hold back her rage. He walked over, touched Sarah’s distended belly, and his face turned grim. “There is a Corpse Child inside. A malevolent spirit.” “Two lives in one body. You cannot simply bury her. She needs a Ritual of Bones.” My mom rolled her eyes. “What kind of nonsense is this? You trying to scam us?” The Stranger sighed. He took a string of black beads from his wrist and placed them on Sarah’s stomach. In a flash, the swelling collapsed. “Do not remove these beads for seven days,” he warned. “On the seventh day, you must exhume the coffin. Place part of her bones in a clay jar. The beads only suppress the resentment of the infant spirit.” “You must bury the fetal remains in your own yard.” “I will return in seven days.” Before leaving, the Stranger gave a final, chilling warning: If we didn’t follow his instructions, in seven days, Sarah and the thing inside her would return as a Skin-Walker and slaughter the entire village. 2 The seventh day arrived. It was gloomy and overcast. The Stranger returned as promised. My parents thought he was a con artist, but fear of a vengeful ghost kept them compliant. Before dawn, we hiked up the back mountain to dig up the grave. The woods were cold and damp. The trees looked like twisted human figures standing in the mist. It was dead silent. My brother, the golden child, walked leisurely behind my parents. I was the mule, carrying heavy bags of ritual paper money, mud splashing my clothes. The Stranger scattered paper money as we walked, chanting in a language I didn’t understand. Birds flew overhead, their cries sounding like a woman weeping. My brother, cowardly as always, hid in Mom’s arms. “Mom, when can we go home?” Mom stroked his forehead gently. “Soon, baby.” Then she glared at me. “Lily! Watch your brother!” He stuck his tongue out at me. If Sarah were here, she would have protected me. Just then, a voice whispered behind me. “Tired? Let big sis carry that for you.” It wasn’t Sarah’s normal voice. It sounded like it was squeezed through gritted teeth, raspy and hollow. I whipped around. Nothing but darkness. Fear made me walk faster. Ten yards from the grave, the Stranger stopped. He lit incense and candles, sticking them into the mud on both sides of the path. Ten candles in total. My mom put her hands together, muttering nervously, “Sarah, don’t blame mom and dad. Eat well, dress well, and move on. Protect your brother; he’s the only son of our family.” My dad grumbled, “Does this guy’s voodoo actually work?” Mom shushed him. After the ritual, we walked to the simple mound. Everyone’s eyes went wide. The grave had been dug up. Rain had washed the coffin halfway out. But the terrifying part was… the lid was open. Sarah’s body was gone. 3 My parents turned pale. “Where is she?! Where is Sarah?” “Did… did she walk away?” my brother whimpered. The Stranger looked grave. He peered into the empty coffin and pulled out a red cloth packet. “Your daughter was stolen for a Spirit Binding.” He opened the packet. Inside were five old coins and a lock of hair tied with red string. “A ghost marriage,” the Stranger said. “Someone wants her soul for their dead son.” Mom screamed, “Who the hell stole my daughter’s body?! That ungrateful girl, causing trouble even when she’s dead!” Dad asked around the village. Turns out, the Miller family in the next valley had lost their son recently. They sneaked up the mountain to steal Sarah for a posthumous wedding. The Stranger did a quick calculation on his fingers and turned white. “If we don’t perform the Bone Ritual before midnight, hell is going to break loose.” We rushed to the Miller house. They were in the middle of the ceremony. Two red coffins sat in the yard. A rooster and a hen were tied to a table. Suona horns blew a piercing, mournful tune. “Give me back my daughter!” My parents rushed in, stopping them from sealing the coffins. “What are you doing?! This is a wedding!” An old woman with messy gray hair threw herself at my mom. They wrestled on the ground. My mom, strong from years of farm work, pinned the woman down. “You’re bullying us! I dug her up myself! They’re married now! She belongs to our family, dead or alive!” Mom yanked the woman’s hair. “I spit on that! You want a daughter-in-law, you pay the dowry! This is theft! I don’t recognize this marriage!” Seeing my mom’s ferocity, the woman softened. “Fine! Name your price! How much to buy the corpse?” Hearing “price,” Mom stopped fighting and looked at Dad. “Fifty thousand. Not a penny less.” 4 I couldn’t believe it. Sarah couldn’t even find peace in death. The woman’s eyes bulged. “Fifty thousand?! I could get a living girl for that!” “Then go get one! Otherwise, we take the coffin!” They haggled over my sister like she was a side of beef. Eventually, they pulled the red cloth off the coffin to inspect the “goods.” I saw Sarah. She had been dead for days, yet her face was rosy and full. She wore a red dress and a flower in her hair. Cheap makeup couldn’t hide her beauty. The beads were gone from her stomach. Suddenly, I met a cold gaze. The corpse in the coffin turned its head. It opened its eyes. The sockets were empty of eyeballs, filled instead with writhing leeches. Her lips pulled back in a stiff, terrifying grin. “Dad! Sarah opened her eyes!” I screamed, hiding behind him. “Stop talking nonsense!” Dad shoved me away. Mom was still negotiating. To them, Sarah was just an object to squeeze value from. “Wait!” The woman grabbed Mom’s arm. “He was my only son. Let’s compromise.” “Thirty. Final offer.” “Fine! Fifteen now, fifteen tomorrow after the burial!” Mom took the cash, smiling greedily. “Deal.” The Stranger shook his head helplessly. “I guess I can only respect the fate of others. I cannot save those who wish to die.” “The Infant Corpse is born. The Skin-Walker awakes. Your village is doomed.”

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