Category: English

Julian Thorne is bipolar, with a volatile temper. Yet, he ended up in an arranged marriage with me—a cowardly fake-good-girl. That day, Julian smashed everything in the living room. He yelled at his father, “You old fossil! How dare you make decisions for me? She’s got guts smaller than a mouse! What’s the use of being pretty?!” “Marry her? Ha! Over my dead body!” Then he turned around and bumped into me, shivering at the top of the stairs. Julian’s breath hitched. Suddenly blushing, he changed his tune, his voice softening. “Dearest father, marriage isn’t entirely out of the question. How about we set the date for next month—no, next week… actually, let’s just make it tomorrow.” 1 By the time I arrived, Julian had already trashed the living room. Expensive antiques from auctions were thrown like toys, shattering all over the floor. I stood at the door with my oversized suitcase, unsure whether to enter or flee. Just yesterday, I was informed I’d be marrying Julian Thorne. Everyone in our circle knew Julian had severe bipolar disorder. The worst incident was when he dislocated a rich kid’s arm over a joke, sending him straight to the hospital. The guy still hasn’t fully recovered. And me? I’m known as the timid, well-behaved girl. Cowardly, weak, prone to tears. The complete opposite of Julian. As an illegitimate daughter, I had no say in this arranged marriage. The very next day, I was kicked out with my luggage. I had no choice. To maintain my victim persona and gain some leverage, I had to start with Julian. The servants stood trembling on the side. Trying to minimize my presence, I dragged my suitcase slowly under the butler’s signal. But as soon as I reached the stairs, I heard Julian’s furious roar. “You old fossil! How dare you make decisions for me? She’s got guts smaller than a mouse! What’s the use of being pretty?!” “Someone saw her at a party the other day, tripping over nothing and crying on the floor for half an hour. Tsk, I hate crybabies.” “If you’re so obsessed with marriage, go be a matchmaker! The fees alone could boost the family business!” “Fifty is a great age for remarriage. Go get a new wife and have another son so you can stop nagging me!” “Marry her? Ha! Over my dead body!” Julian grabbed the last vase and threw it. It grazed his father’s forehead and smashed at my feet. Startled, I let out a scream. “Ah!” Julian, still fuming, turned around impatiently at the sound. However… I witnessed the volatile, spoiled prince freeze the moment he saw me. A flush spread rapidly from his ears to his neck. Huh? Wasn’t he supposed to hate me? This wasn’t going according to the script. Julian stared at me for a long time, only snapping out of it after his father called him several times. Suddenly blushing, he changed his tune, his voice softening. “Dearest father, marriage isn’t entirely out of the question. How about we set the date for next month—no, next week… actually, let’s just make it tomorrow.” 2 I was assigned the room next to Julian’s. Originally, I was supposed to stay in the guest room on the second floor. But Julian claimed the guest rooms hadn’t been used in ages and might have mice. I lowered my head, pretending to hesitate. Julian lived up to his reputation for being volatile and gloomy. My plan was to make him hate me. That way, I could maintain my pitiful persona and easily sabotage the marriage. But the current turn of events had me confused. Julian didn’t give me a chance to refuse. He picked up my suitcase and carried it upstairs himself. He kept stealing glances at me, muttering, “If you get scared and start crying again, I won’t have time to comfort you…” I stood frozen, looking helplessly at Mr. Thorne senior. He looked equally confused but patted my shoulder, telling me to settle in. Julian was extremely territorial; no one was allowed in his space without permission. This meant only the two of us lived on the fourth floor. He placed my huge suitcase gently on the floor. He wanted to help me unpack, but I stopped him just in time. The suitcase was filled with my personal items. If he saw them, my persona would crumble. My hand accidentally brushed his. It was cool. The next second, Julian spun around, quickly taking off his jacket and tying it around his waist. He cursed under his breath. “F*ck.” Me: “?” Is the prince this innocent? Julian kept his back to me, stiff as a board. I blinked and whispered an apology, sounding like I was about to cry. “I’m sorry.” Sure enough, Julian whipped around, stammering. “Why apologize? I should be the one apologizing. Sorry, sorry, was I too loud just now? Did I scare you? I’ll be quieter next time, please don’t cry…” He bent down, clumsily trying to comfort me. Seeing I stopped tearing up, he asked tentatively. “W-what’s your name again?” “Chloe.” I whispered. This dummy. He didn’t even know his fiancée’s name. I looked up, meeting his nervous gaze. Julian held it for a second before blushing again. 3 Before leaving, Julian left a sticky note with his number, telling me to call him if I needed anything. Watching his expectant look, I hid behind the door and nodded obediently. Once the door closed, my innocent act vanished. I rubbed my sore eyes and tossed the note into the trash. Then I opened my suitcase. I took out my strap dresses, tongue ring, and toys. Finally, I grabbed my tablet, opened my favorite site, and started enjoying some “content.” Meanwhile, Julian’s phone rang as soon as he got back to his room. It wasn’t Chloe, but his best friend, Zack. “Julian, Chloe isn’t as simple as she looks.” “Yeah, she’s got some moves.” “She’s not just a pretty vase. Some guys saw her at a club a few days ago—” Before Zack could finish, Julian cut him off impatiently. “Who the hell allowed you to badmouth Chloe?” “She’s not a vase! She’s clearly… a cute little hamster!” Julian’s ears burned as he spoke. “Forget it, can’t explain it to a single dog like you. Just wait for the wedding invitation!” He hung up. Julian opened his hand. In his palm lay a small sticker. He had secretly swiped it while carrying her luggage. The pattern was unclear. White with some pink. It carried Chloe’s unique gardenia scent. F*ck. Julian cursed himself and headed to the bathroom, turning the shower to the coldest setting. For the first time in his twenty-something years, his heart raced for a girl. There was no sound from next door. Julian pressed his ear against the wall, patiently listening. The air around him smelled strange. He listened to the faint, happy sounds coming from the girl next door. Late at night, still caught in the afterglow, Julian thought to himself: “Love at first sight is actually f*cking real.” 4 Over the next few days, Julian canceled all his plans. He just stayed home obediently. To be precise, he followed me wherever I went. His only private activity was calling people to rush the wedding preparations. I suspected he was possessed. But he justified it by saying: “Cultivating feelings with my fiancée.” Having a tail was annoying. Outwardly, I pretended to be scared, hoping Julian would get bored and kick me out. Preferably with a hefty “emotional damage” fee. To my surprise, instead of getting bored, Julian took me to a gathering. He claimed he wanted his bros to meet their sister-in-law. I stood outside the private room, hesitant to enter. To maintain my good-girl image, I wore a plain white dress with minimal makeup. Completely out of place in a noisy club. “I’m a little scared…” Scared of what? I knew these idle rich kids well. Colorful hairstyles, foul mouths, smoke everywhere. But when the door opened… A dozen guys in suits sat upright on the sofas, glasses of orange juice on the table. The air smelled of fresh gardenias. Everyone was smiling, hair gelled back neatly. It looked less like a club gathering and more like an elementary school assembly. Julian looked even more nervous than I was. “Babe, are you still scared?” I swallowed my prepared excuse and shook my head silently.

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1 Peter brought home a little boy after getting me a late-night snack during my morning sickness. With a playful look, he asked if I thought it was his secret love child. Seeing my stunned face, he laughed softly and stroked my cheek. “We’ve been married for years, love. You’re the only one I want to be a father for.” He explained he found the boy on the street, clinging to him, and would return him in the morning—just in time for my ultrasound. I nodded. But at the clinic the next day, my calls went unanswered. Then I spotted him across the hall, holding a pale woman, his voice heavy with emotion: “Why didn’t you tell me back then—why did you hide our son?” As the two lost lovers held each other and cried, their past misunderstandings dissolved. “Don’t cry, it’s all my fault,” he whispered. “Focus on getting better. We’ll never be apart again.” I looked down at the ultrasound photo in my hand, at the healthy little life inside. My thumb hovered over my phone for a moment, then I deleted the unsent message: “Honey, the baby’s perfect.” … His mother suddenly stormed past me, yanking the two apart before slapping the woman, Lily, hard across the face. “You bitch,” she spat, her voice venomous. “You’re just as shameless as your mother. You know you’re the product of an affair, so how dare you come back and tangle yourself up with my son!” Lily stumbled back, a crimson handprint already blooming on her cheek. Peter snapped back to reality, instantly shielding Lily behind him. “Mom, what are you doing!” “What am I doing?” His mother was trembling with rage, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Have you lost your mind? Have you forgotten how her mother crawled into your father’s bed and made my life a living hell? Have you forgotten how she took your father’s money and tossed you aside like a stray dog? Now she’s sick and dying, and you’re letting her sink her teeth into you again? I’m telling you, not as long as I’m alive!” “It’s not like that, Mrs. Croft,” Lily sobbed. “I found out I had bone cancer back then. I had to leave him; I didn’t want to be a burden.” “Oh, so noble of you,” his mother sneered. “Then why not keep it a secret forever? Peter was finally moving on, he has a new family, and now you show up with a child, crying in his arms in a hospital corridor. Do you think we can’t see right through you, Lily?” “Mom!” Peter’s voice was a low growl of fury as he held the trembling Lily even tighter. “She left to protect me! She’s been fighting this disease alone for years. Can you please just stop?” His mother’s hand shook as she pointed at him, her chest heaving. I watched the drama unfold, a nauseating wave washing over me. The stares of onlookers felt like needles piercing my skin. I took a deep breath and stepped forward, gently touching his mother’s arm. “Mom, let’s go. My stomach hurts.” It was only then that Peter saw me. The anger on his face froze, and he let go of Lily in a panic. “Sienna? What are you doing here?” My vision blurred. I ignored the hand he reached out to me, clinging to his mother’s arm instead. My voice trembled. “Mom, take me away… my stomach really hurts.” “Sienna, what’s wrong?” He rushed toward me, trying to help me into a chair. “Don’t touch me!” I screamed, my voice raw as I violently shoved his hand away. “You mean lady, stop bullying my daddy!” The little boy from last night shot out like a cannonball and slammed into my side. My balance gave way, and I crashed heavily to the floor. An agonizing, tearing pain ripped through my lower abdomen. A wave of warmth instantly soaked through my clothes. “Sienna!” I saw Peter and his mother running toward me, their faces masks of terror. “Doctor! Somebody get a doctor!” 2 I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV drip feeding a cocktail of drugs into my hand to stabilize the pregnancy. The doctor was speaking to Peter in a low, serious tone. “The impact caused fetal distress. The mother is in a fragile state. She cannot handle any more severe emotional stress.” Peter sat by my bed, his hand gripping mine, his thumb stroking my skin. His eyes were shot with red. “Sienna, I’m so sorry.” I turned my head away, staring at the wall. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on our joined hands. “Don’t be scared. I’m right here. I’m not leaving your side for a second.” The words had barely left his mouth when his phone blared with a sharp ringtone. His body tensed. He didn’t move. The phone rang again, and again, stubbornly persistent. Finally, he released my hand, his face a canvas of guilt. He stood up. “Sienna, I… I’ll be right back. It might be an emergency over there.” “Peter.” My voice was eerily calm, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Let’s get a divorce.” He froze, as if nailed to the floor. After a long moment, he slowly turned, the color drained from his face. “Sienna, what did you just say?” “A divorce.” My eyes finally met his. “I said, I want a divorce.” He rushed back to the bed, reaching for my hand again, but I pulled it away. “Sienna, don’t do this. I know you’re angry, but don’t scare me like this,” he stammered, his eyes wide with panic. “Wait here, I’ll go get you that chestnut pastry you love, and that taro bubble tea you just showed me, okay?” “No.” “I hate taro. And I never showed you that drink. Even the late-night snack you brought me last night… that was Lily’s favorite.” “The moment you saw that boy, you thought of her, didn’t you?” “So,” I looked away, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion, “let’s just get a divorce.” He shook his head violently, his voice cracking. “No, that’s impossible. You’re my wife. We have a child on the way. We’re a family!” “A family?” I repeated softly, a faint, bitter curve on my lips. “Then tell me, Peter, when I collapsed… where were you?” His lips parted, but no words came out. “You were with Lily and her son, playing happy family for the camera!” I shoved him away, grabbing the pillow and the medical chart from the nightstand and hurling them at him. “If they hadn’t used my number as the emergency contact, would you have just kept me in the dark forever? Let me play the fool and pretend everything was fine?” “Peter! If you can’t let her go, why drag me into your misery? Why should I have to be the cover for your great, tragic love story?” He was pale, his voice raspy as he tried to explain. “Sienna, listen to me… The kids at school, they bully him. They call him a bastard for not having a father.” “I just wanted… I just wanted to give him some comfort. Your father cheated, you must know what it’s like to grow up without a dad. It was just one picture. We’ll have a million chances to take our own. But Lily… this was her only wish before she starts chemo. I couldn’t say no…” Couldn’t say no. His weak defense extinguished the last bit of warmth in my heart. “You couldn’t say no to her, so you felt fine lying to me?” I started to laugh, but the laughter turned into tears I couldn’t stop. “You needed to give your past a perfect ending. You needed to give them closure. So what about me? What about our baby?” “What are we?” 3 That day, as Lily lay in the chemotherapy ward, nearly not waking up, Peter still left. After he was gone, I picked up my phone. The first call was to my lawyer to draft the divorce papers. The second was to his mother. There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a deep sigh. “Sienna, I am so sorry. I have a house in coastal Maine. Go there. I won’t tell Peter where you are.” “You were the one who pulled him out of that darkness. I have no right to ask you to stay now.” After hanging up, my gaze fell to my right shoulder, where a dull ache always bloomed on rainy days. After Lily had left him all those years ago, Peter had spiraled. He crashed his car while street racing, a wreck so bad the doctors said he might never walk again. Everyone thought he was finished. That’s when I, fresh from the grief of my own mother’s suicide, applied for the job as his caregiver. I spent every day by his bedside, talking to him, massaging his atrophying muscles. He would throw fits, knocking food trays to the floor. I would just quietly clean it up and make him another meal. “Get out!” he’d roar at me. “I don’t need your pity!” I would just look at him and say, “Peter, if you want to die, you have to stand up first. Walk out of here on your own two feet and do it with dignity. Then we can die together.” I don’t know which words finally broke through, but he started physical therapy. From sitting up to standing, every step of his recovery was with his arm slung over my shoulder, his entire weight bearing down on me as I willed him forward. The day he learned to walk again, he held me so tight, his hot tears soaking into the collar of my shirt. “Sienna,” his voice was impossibly hoarse, “you saved my life. From now on, my life is yours.” This shoulder had once carried the full weight of his despair, and the ugliest years of our lives. My phone buzzed, pulling me from the memory. I opened the message. It was a photo. My mother’s gold bangles—the only thing she left me—were dangling from a dog’s leg. Beneath it, a line of text: “He said these bangles were incredibly important to you, so he wouldn’t give them to me. But my son liked them, said they looked good on Sparky. He called Peter ‘daddy’ a few times, and just like that, he gave them to my son. Thanks for the gift.” Blood rushed to my head. My hands started to shake uncontrollably. I ripped the IV needle from my arm and, ignoring the nurse’s protests, stormed out of the room. I threw open the door to Lily’s room. She was propped up in bed, a healthy flush on her cheeks, petting the dog. “Give them to me,” I demanded, my voice trembling. Lily slowly stroked the bangles on the dog’s leg and smiled. “Oh, don’t be so stingy. It’s just a pair of gold bangles.” “I heard they were a gift from your mother, the one who got cheated on. If my son didn’t like them, I’d think they were bad luck.” She paused, looking me up and down. “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you.” She pointed a finger at the sofa beside her bed, her eyes glinting with provocation. “Last night, right where you’re sitting now, Peter and I went at it all night. He told me he never forgot me. He said having you around was torture for him.” “Sienna, I used to treat him like dirt, and he still comes crawling back, licking my hand like a dog. You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” My mind went blank with a roar of white noise. A wave of indescribable nausea churned in my stomach. When I came to, Lily was on the floor, clutching her face in disbelief. I lunged again, grabbing a handful of her hair and dragging her toward the bathroom. I wanted to silence her. I shoved her head under the shower spray, the cold water blasting her face. “You don’t deserve to even say my mother’s name!” “Ahh, Peter! Help me!” she shrieked, her hands clawing wildly at my arms. “Sienna! What the hell are you doing!” Peter burst into the room. He seized my wrist and flung me away with brutal force. My back slammed into the wall. I still tried to lunge for Lily. “Have you lost your damn mind?” he roared, standing between me and Lily, his eyes filled with undisguised rage and a chilling coldness. “She’s on chemo! She’s not going to threaten your status as Mrs. Croft. Look at the state of you! You’re acting just as crazy as your mother did before she killed herself! You’re an unhinged, irrational mess!” CRACK. The sound echoed in the small room. I had slapped him with every last bit of strength I had. “Peter,” I whispered, “you’re not even human.”

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On my way to pick up my son from school, I scrolled through a thread on a popular forum. “What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?” The comments were a wild mix. Some people confessed to affairs, others to streaking through a park. The discussion was lively. I swiped past, uninterested. Until a familiar profile picture caught my eye. Her answer was about how she’d ruined a girl’s life with a single sentence. “She was my boss’s fiancée, young and beautiful.” “The night before her wedding, she was kidnapped. My boss sent me to deliver the ransom.” “I suggested we wait a few days. Let a little hardship teach her to behave.” “Turns out she couldn’t handle it. The kidnappers broke her mind. She ended up in a psychiatric hospital.” “This is her third year locked away.” “And me? I finally married my boss.” That one word, finally, dripped with the sweet satisfaction of a long-nurtured plan. It felt like a challenge, three years in the making. 1 The thread was popular. In just a few minutes, her comment had been voted to the top. Sarah had even posted a picture. Two hands, fingers intertwined. On them were the wedding rings I had designed myself but never had the chance to wear. “I don’t think I did anything wrong,” she continued in a reply. “If I had to do it a hundred times over, I’d make the same choice every time.” “After all, I’m the only one in this world who deserves him.” “Not some spoiled, pampered princess who only knows how to cry.” She wrote about the struggles she and Martin Vance had overcome together, how they had propped up a struggling company. She painted a picture of late nights, working side-by-side, relying on each other. But she never mentioned where Martin’s startup capital had come from. It wasn’t time to pick up Leo yet. While waiting at a red light, a dozen more replies popped up. Some called her shameless, warning her that what goes around comes around. Others argued it wasn’t her fault, that I was just mentally weak. Then, someone managed to dig up her identity and found the photos that had gone viral all those years ago. Staring at the grainy image, I felt a jolt. It was like peering through a crack in time. I saw her again—the lost, helpless girl from three years ago. Me. Stripped naked and thrown onto the street. Walking, bare and exposed, into the glare of the media’s flashbulbs. A stark contrast to the polished, radiant Sarah standing proudly at Martin’s side. Martin had spent a fortune to scrub the story from the headlines, but the humiliation was forever seared into the memory of the internet. The light turned green. I sighed and pressed the accelerator. By the next intersection, her comment had been deleted. But a new text message had appeared on my phone, sent five minutes ago. “Eliza, are you okay?” The number was unfamiliar. There was no name. But in this world, only one person ever called me Eliza in that particular way. I hesitated for a moment, then deleted the message. His concern had come three years too late. Whether I was okay or not had long ceased to be his business. The car moved forward. I had no time to look back. Only sometimes, when the autumn leaves swirled past my windshield, would I remember a life that felt a million miles away. 2 Before I turned twenty-three, I had never known a day of hardship. I was the jewel of my family, a princess in the city’s high society. A chauffeur drove me everywhere; housekeepers attended to my every need. Even my arranged marriage was to Martin Vance, the handsome and brilliant rising star of the elite. Everyone used to say it. “Eliza Chen has a charmed life. She’s the brightest star in the city.” That all ended the night before my wedding, when I was taken. They demanded an astronomical ransom from my family. Eighty million dollars. But I wasn’t afraid. My parents adored me. Martin had sworn he’d marry no one else. They would liquidate every asset they had to bring me home safely. At first, the kidnappers were almost polite. But on the seventh day, a bucket of ice-cold water woke me from my dream. One of them grabbed me by the hair and kicked me to the floor. “Your family said they couldn’t pay. So what the hell is this?” I looked up. On the television was Martin’s triumphant face. He was standing next to Sarah at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. The screen behind them blazed with a headline: “Vance Industries Celebrates Initial Success, Secures Further $80 Million for New Project.” Eighty million. The exact amount. The kidnappers let me make one last call to Martin. When the line connected, it was Sarah’s voice that answered. “Mr. Vance is busy. May I ask who’s calling?” “Oh, it’s you, Miss Chen. He’s unavailable.” Her voice then became a playful murmur, clearly meant for someone in the room with her. “Oh, Martin, stop it… the press conference is about to start. You’re wrinkling my dress, how am I supposed to face the reporters…?” The line went dead, cutting off the intimate sounds. It was a silent declaration from Martin. Between love and ambition, he chose ambition. Between me and Sarah, he chose Sarah. I stood there, frozen, unable to process it. I didn’t notice the way the kidnappers’ eyes had changed as they looked at me. On the eighth day, the ransom didn’t arrive. They broke one of my fingers as a warning. Martin didn’t respond. He didn’t yield. On the ninth day, the ransom still hadn’t arrived. They filmed me while they violated me, threatening to ruin my name forever. Martin remained silent. That afternoon, his company released a formal statement. “Vance Industries will never bow to criminals.” On the tenth day, my parents announced they were liquidating their assets in the country and moving overseas. I had been completely abandoned, an asset that had lost its value. The kidnappers were furious. Their rage turned on me. They used every method they could think of to torture and humiliate me. By then, both they and I were clinging to one last, desperate thread of hope. That someone, anyone, would come. But no one did. While I was imprisoned, Martin and Sarah grew closer. The news was full of them. Attending galas, hosting events. Clinking champagne glasses, basking in the glow of success. Every financial news channel was reporting on it. Martin’s investment was a massive success. He was on track to become the wealthiest man in the city. A golden road stretched out before him. A pack of ravenous demons was behind me. They unleashed all their rage and frustration on my body. Whips, daggers, branding irons, and steel needles. I was begging for life and praying for death. On the fifteenth day, I found a chance and I ran. I can’t recall the pain or the obstacles of that escape. I just remember running. Running until my feet were numb, until my wounds split open, until I was running on nothing but my last breath. Just as I was about to collapse, to give up, a sound drifted through the air. Music. It pointed the way. 3 I didn’t care that I was naked. I didn’t care about dignity or shame. All I wanted was to live. But when I stumbled into the clearing, I saw Martin. He was with Sarah, hosting a charity event in a rural town. It was a huge spectacle, swarming with reporters. How perfect. He had money for investments, for charity, but not to ransom his own fiancée. He had time for press conferences and interviews, but not to save his own fiancée. He was here, soaking in praise and applause, while he had left me to suffer every imaginable horror at the hands of monsters. I stood there, naked and frozen, a grotesque clown at their party. I let them all stare at the canvas of wounds that covered my body. In that moment, every camera turned to me. Martin’s face went cold. He didn’t ask if I was hurt. He didn’t ask what I had been through. He only said one thing. “Eliza, what kind of scene are you making?” A scene? A scene? So all the pain, all the torture I had endured… In his eyes, it was just a tantrum, a desperate bid for attention. My blood and my scars were less important to him than a speck of dust on the ground. I stumbled toward him, sobbing. “Why? Why didn’t you save me?” “Why? I’m your fiancée! We grew up together, we were supposed to spend our lives together…” My voice broke. “I’m… I’m carrying…” Before I could finish, Martin cut me off, his voice cold and hard. In front of everyone, he pushed my hand away. His gaze was heavy, a complex mix of emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Eliza, why can’t you just learn to behave?” he said. “The moment I got the news, I sent Sarah to negotiate. I told you that once this busy period was over, the money would be sent. You were never in any real danger. Why do you have to be so dramatic?” Who would use their own life, their own dignity, for drama? I stared at the man I had loved since I was a child, my mind reeling in disbelief. But even as the last of my tears dried on my cheeks, his expression never softened. He just seemed vaguely annoyed that I had disrupted his charity event. Finally, someone wrapped me in a blanket and led me away. Sarah came over, feigning concern. But as she did, she deliberately pulled down the silk scarf from her neck, revealing a fresh love bite on her skin. “Curious, aren’t you?” she whispered. “Wondering why your parents didn’t come to save you?” “Wondering why Martin’s attitude toward you has changed so drastically?” Her voice was a venomous caress. “Because… you’re not their daughter.” Sarah told me everything. The day the ransom note arrived, my parents were frantic. They were ready to liquidate everything to save me. But Martin stopped them. He produced a paternity test. It proved I was an imposter, a baby switched at birth by a vengeful nanny. The real heiress, their true daughter, had died years ago from that same nanny’s abuse. That revelation stopped my parents in their tracks. The jewel of the family… was a fake. Years of love made it impossible for them to completely abandon me. But the knowledge that they had raised their daughter’s killer—or at least, the child who had taken her place—paralyzed them. Torn, they did the only thing they could. They left me a dowry of eighty million dollars and entrusted my care to Martin. In their minds, they had done their duty. They just never imagined Martin could be so ruthless. He took that eighty million—my dowry, my ransom, my life savings—and poured it into his new project. It made him a tycoon. It made him a legend. And it left me to be tortured until I had nothing left. That day, I cried until I had no tears left. When I looked up, Martin was standing over me. He was silhouetted against the light. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could see the necklace around his neck. It matched the one Sarah was wearing. He looked down at me. “Eliza,” he said, his voice low. “I won’t abandon you just because of this… disgrace.” “But I want you to remember, you have no family to run back to anymore.” “If you want to marry me, if you want to be Mrs. Vance, you need to learn to behave.” Everyone told me this was his way of extending an olive branch. They said he knew my prideful nature, knew about my traumatic experience, and yet he was still willing to accept and forgive me. They said it was proof that he loved me. But all I heard was a threat. The old Eliza would have screamed. She would have raged. She would have burned the world down. But after being beaten into submission by fate, I was afraid. I realized my entire life was now in Martin’s hands. My future, my happiness, my very existence. It was all up to him. So, I did as he wished. I learned to behave. 4 At dinner, I pretended not to see the elegant, smiling Sarah sitting across from me. I silently swallowed every piece of food they placed on my plate. Even when my stomach churned. Even when my heart was hammering against my ribs. I didn’t dare show any disgust. I was too afraid. Terrified of that feeling of having nothing, of being completely at the mercy of others. Compared to the leaves and garbage I’d been forced to eat in that cage, swallowing the food on my plate was easy. I tried so hard to be the perfect, obedient wife-to-be, tucking away all my pride and my fire. But there was one thing I couldn’t do. I couldn’t bear Martin’s touch. His every caress, the sound of his breathing… It threw me back to those fifteen days in hell. It made me see the faces of my captors, feel their hands on me. I was terrified. Terrified of remembering. Terrified of the barely-healed scars being ripped open again. Whenever Martin came near me, whenever he touched me, I would start shaking uncontrollably. Then I would scream and scramble away, pushing him off me with all my strength. Martin never hit me, not like they did. He would just watch me, his voice cold and distant. “Eliza, haven’t you made enough of a scene?” I had lost the right to make scenes long ago. But I couldn’t speak, couldn’t meet his eyes. I could only curl into a ball in the corner, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, holding onto the last shreds of my dignity. The more I withdrew, the angrier he became. The night of his birthday, he was drunk. He yanked me to my feet, grabbing my face in his hands. “Say something! Why won’t you say anything?” he demanded. “You used to be the one who never shut up, who was always clinging to me. What is this, some act? Playing the untouchable saint?” “Is this still about that one little incident? How long are you going to keep this up?” His voice dropped to a low growl. “Eliza, why can’t you just learn to behave…” Something had set him off that night. He was determined to be with me. He tore at my clothes, his hands rough. He pinned me down, his mouth closing over mine. In that instant, the carefully buried terror erupted. The mattress beneath me became an iron cage. The man above me became one of my captors. It felt like every scar on my body was splitting open, dragging me back into that endless nightmare. I lost all reason. All that was left was the instinct to survive. In a blind panic, I grabbed the crystal vase from the nightstand and swung. Sarah burst in to find Martin on the floor, covered in blood. She made a huge show of it, calling the police, calling an ambulance. “Help! Somebody help!” she screamed. “Eliza’s gone insane! She’s trying to kill him!” And just like that, I was taken away by the police. Sarah produced the photos from the charity event, the ones of me naked and distraught. She claimed I’d had mental health issues for years. She had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Martin handled all the arrangements. From setting up a trust fund to cover my expenses to arranging my meals, he took care of everything. Before they left, he looked at me. “Eliza,” he said. “You be a good girl in here, you hear me?” “When you’re better, I’ll come take you home.” Everyone knew it was a lie. The rumors about him and Sarah were already everywhere. He needed a plausible excuse to get rid of me, the inconvenient baggage from his past. So, I had to be the crazy one. … An autumn leaf drifted onto the windshield, and the school bell rang, pulling me back to the present. I looked up, searching the crowd of children for a familiar face. Instead, I saw Martin. He looked surprised, then a flicker of something like joy crossed his face. He hurried through the throng of parents toward me. “Eliza? What are you doing here?” “You were discharged? Why didn’t you call me? Do you have any idea…” Before he could finish, a small, cherubic boy ran up and hugged my leg. “Mommy, what took you so long?” “All the kids at school made a bet to see whose mom would pick them up first. I’m going to lose again!” I smiled and squeezed his cheek, about to comfort him. But it was Martin who spoke first, his eyes suddenly red. 5 He crouched down, his gaze fixed on Leo. His face was a canvas of shock and disbelief. “This is… your son?” “How… How is that possible…?” Martin’s eyes lifted from Leo to me. His deep-set gaze was filled with an emotion I couldn’t name. It was almost an accusation. As if he was demanding to know why I had kept something so important from him. And underneath, there was something else. Regret. As if he was finally realizing he had left both me and his child in that hell. But I knew Martin. Nothing—not me, not a child—would have changed his decision. Even if he had known I was pregnant back then, he still would not have come for me. I didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Leo. I took my son’s hand, lifted him into the car seat, and positioned my body to block Martin’s view. “Leo is my son. He has nothing to do with you.” “I hear you and Sarah are getting married soon. Congratulations.” “From now on, let’s live our own lives. Don’t contact me again.” The moment Martin had me committed, any relationship between us was over. After I was discharged, I gained access to a trust fund my parents had left for me. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to live comfortably. I didn’t need Martin. I didn’t need anyone. I just wanted to cut all ties with the past. Leo, always observant, sensed the strange tension between us. He glanced curiously at Martin but stayed quiet, obediently fastening his seatbelt. As I turned to close the door, Martin’s hand shot out, bracing it open. The door frame bit into his flesh, drawing blood, but he refused to let go. “Now that you’re out, come home,” he said, his voice strained. “I promised your parents I’d take care of you. I can’t go back on my word.” The wedding ring on his finger caught the afternoon sun, glinting brightly. I stared at it for a moment, then gave a small, tired smile. I was useless to him now. Why was he still putting on this act? I sighed, my voice calm and even. “You don’t have to do this. Whatever we had ended three years ago. You have no responsibility or obligation to me.” A financial debt can be repaid. An emotional one is impossible to calculate. What he gave me, what he took from me… who could ever say? It was better to leave it all buried in the past. You have to look forward. Compared to the twisted wreckage of my past with Martin, I much preferred the quiet, simple life I had now. Martin just stared at me, searching my placid eyes for a spark of the vibrant, fiery Eliza he once knew. He found nothing. I was a stranger to him now. After a long moment, he looked down, his expression defeated. “I saw Sarah’s post,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.” It was the first time Martin Vance had ever apologized to me. He claimed he didn’t know the details of what had happened. He said he was so consumed with the new project that he had delegated all the “minor” issues to Sarah. He never imagined she would twist his words, that she would deliberately delay things. “She said with our families’ influence, no one would ever dare to actually harm you.” “She said you had a temper, that it would cause trouble for you later in life. She thought this would be a good lesson for you, a way to make you learn to behave.” His voice cracked. “I never thought it would go so far. I never knew how much it hurt you…” Did he not know, or did he not want to know? In fifteen days of captivity, he never once called to check on me himself. In three years in that hospital, he never once came to visit. His love was a thin, cheap veneer. Something to pass the time when he was bored. I didn’t need it. I didn’t want it. This time, it was my turn to push his hand away. “Martin, we’ve known each other since we were children. I know you better than anyone. I know your temper, your ambition, your stubborn pride. That’s why I want nothing more to do with you.” My voice was firm, final. “I’ll say it one last time. Leo is not your son. If you don’t believe me, go get a paternity test.” “Now please, stop interfering in our lives.” I slammed the car door shut, sealing out the sound of his voice, sealing out the past. Leo watched me carefully from his seat. Seeing that I was calm, he asked tentatively, “Mommy, who was that man?” “Was he your boyfriend a long time ago?”

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In the year I loved Julian Thorne the most, I gave him the System’s Magic Lamp of Wishes. He was so smitten, he said he wanted to have a child with me. I agreed with my words, but that very night, I faked my death and became his “white moonlight”—the one who got away, gone too soon. Six years later, the System found me, on the verge of a breakdown. “Host, the original target wants me to ask you: your son is in the operating room. Do you want to see him?” I remained calm. “I never had a child with him.” The System sounded even more desperate. “The night you faked your death, he wished for a child with the Magic Lamp. The Lamp didn’t give him one, so he went on a rampage. To maintain world stability, we gave him a child with both your genetic markers.” “Now he’s completely lost it. He told me to tell you that you must meet him today, or he’ll pull the plug on your son’s oxygen.” Hearing this, I immediately transmigrated back to the original world. The System dropped me into a hospital room. A five-year-old child sat on the hospital bed. Seeing me appear out of nowhere, his pale, tender face showed only a hint of surprise. His round, dark eyes stared at me. Then, with one hand in his pocket, he coolly handed me a bank card. “I’ll give you ten million dollars. Stay and be my mom.” 1 The kid was handsome, with an arrogant demeanor exactly like Julian’s. The System chimed in with an explanation. “Host, this is Leo, the child created from yours and the target’s genetic match. He’s six years old.” Seeing the card Leo handed over, I was surprised. “You know me?” Leo stared straight at me, his eyes showing a maturity beyond his years. “I know you’re my mom. I’ve seen you in the photo album in that man’s safe.” I was even more surprised. The child refused to call Julian “Dad.” Was their relationship that bad? The System prompted: “The relationship between the target and the child is very distant. In the week since the child’s surgery and hospitalization, he hasn’t visited once.” I frowned unconsciously. Julian was being way too irresponsible as a father. Leo was his child, after all. Leo looked at me, his small hand clutching tightly. “So, will you stay and be my mom?” I choked, not knowing how to answer. I knew Julian’s temper. Years ago, when I was kidnapped, I had been gone from Julian for less than half an hour when he turned the whole city upside down. He broke the legs of all the kidnappers and left them on the roadside. Yet, looking calm as ever, he squatted down, held my hand, and wiped the places others had touched with a towel, over and over again. His love was as crazy and dark as he was. For me, he even wished for a child from a Magic Lamp. But I faked my death and left him for six whole years. If I agreed to stay, I would definitely run into Julian. I couldn’t imagine what that madman would do when we met again. Seeing my silence, a flash of panic crossed Leo’s eyes. “Is ten million not enough? How about a hundred million?” “I can write you an IOU. When I grow up, I’ll pay you every cent.” With that, Leo pulled out a piece of paper and grandly wrote several zeros, handing it to me to sign. The next second, a maid rushed in, dropped a bowl of medicine, snatched the IOU, tore it to shreds, and threw it in the trash. “Young master, you’re confused! This is the nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-ninth bad woman who got plastic surgery to look like the Madam to trick you. I’ll tear off her disguise right now!” Saying this, the maid rushed over to pull my hair. Ignoring his pain, Leo quickly climbed out of bed and blocked her, frowning and shouting. “Who told you to touch her? Do you think I can’t even recognize my own mother?” The maid’s lips trembled. “But Young Master, the Madam died six years ago. How could she be the Madam?” “Shut up! My mom isn’t dead. That man said it himself, Mom is a ‘Tasker.’ She had to be his ‘white moonlight,’ so she faked her death to trick us.” I was startled. Julian knew I was a Tasker. He was too smart; I couldn’t hide it when I approached him, so I just told him. But I never revealed the plot. How did he know I had to be his “early-departed white moonlight”? Did he always know, or did he find out after I faked my death? “She is my mom! I finally met my mom. Get out! Don’t touch her.” Leo glared fiercely at the maid, protecting me like a beast guarding its cub. The maid was driven out of the room. Before leaving, I saw her making a call. Leo bit his lip and secretly wiped his tears, leaving a red rim around his eyes, which made my heart ache. “You pulled on your surgical wound, didn’t you? Does it hurt?” Leo huffed, arrogant just like Julian. “It’s just an appendectomy.” I paused. Appendectomy? Then why did Julian make it sound so serious, threatening to pull the plug? I thought the kid was dying! The System spoke timidly, “Maybe he threatened you like that just to trick you into coming back?” It did sound like something Julian would do. I rubbed my throbbing temples. Looking at the child’s pale face, my heart softened. Seeing the medicine on the table, I took a few steps, and Leo immediately grabbed the hem of my clothes tightly. “Mom… I-I’ll write you another IOU. You can have as much money as you want. I’ll definitely pay you. Please don’t leave me, okay?” Seeing his pitiful look, so afraid I would abandon him, my heart turned to mush. I had just found out about his existence and met him for the first time, yet I genuinely felt the guilt of abandoning my husband and child. I picked him up and placed him on the hospital bed. “I’m not leaving, and I don’t want an IOU. I’m going to get your medicine. If you take your medicine, the wound won’t hurt anymore.” He shook his head vigorously. “I don’t hurt. I’m very tough.” I said softly, “If you drink the medicine, I won’t leave.” Leo’s dark eyes suddenly lit up. He took the medicine, pinched his nose, and drank it in one go, coughing as he choked. Then he grabbed my clothes tightly. “I drank it. You can’t leave. You have to stay with me!” “Okay, I’ll stay with you.” “Swear it!” I was helpless. Like father, like son; they both loved making me swear. “I swear, I’ll stay with you. Your wound hasn’t healed yet. You need rest. Sleep now.” I patted his back gently. Leo’s ears turned red. He tried hard to keep his eyes open, examining me carefully, but eventually couldn’t resist the drowsiness and fell asleep. His fingers, however, still gripped my sleeve tightly, refusing to let go. I stared at him, my heart softening inch by inch. Just then, the silent System suddenly issued an urgent alarm. “Host! Something happened to the original target!” I was startled. “What’s wrong?” The next second, a large screen appeared in front of me. On the screen was the villa where Julian and I once lived. The living room was densely packed with wooden puppets. Julian sat in the center of the living room. His chiseled face was as handsome as it was six years ago. His distinct fingers held a carving knife, adjusting the curve of a puppet’s earlobe bit by bit. As the last wood shaving fell to the floor, he murmured softly. “Serena, this is the two thousand and ninetieth you. I’ve waited for you every day for six years. Why won’t you come back? Is it because I wasn’t good enough that you left me?” His eyes were vacant. The eyes that were once full of ambition now held only despair and numbness. I was shaken, involuntarily recalling the first time I met Julian. He had been kicked out by his father. In the dead of winter, wearing only thin pajamas, covered in bruises, he walked barefoot towards the sea. Just like now, there was no light in his eyes. I desperately pulled him ashore and forced clothes onto him. He looked at me warily and asked in a hoarse voice. “Why did you save me?” I casually said, “Because I can see the future. I know you’ll become a very powerful person later. Powerful enough to overturn the world.” I wasn’t exactly lying. He was the big villain in the book. As long as he survived the hardest times, he would be a man more powerful than the protagonist. Julian was suspicious by nature, but he believed me. Then, in just three years, he became the madman everyone talked about, unscrupulous for money and power. And I was his only weakness. I snapped back to reality, seeing Julian raise the carving knife and slice his fingertip without hesitation. Blood dotted the puppet’s lips, completing the final touch. He smiled, his blood-stained fingertip tracing the puppet’s face, his eyes full of obsession and satisfaction. “My Serena is so beautiful. Pity, no matter how much it looks like her, it’s not her.” I shivered. Following his gaze, my blood ran cold. The villa was filled with puppets, all looking exactly like me. Lifelike. It showed how dedicated and obsessed the carver was. Six years later, he seemed even crazier. 2 The System said: “Host, since you left, the target has shut himself up with your puppets all day, unwilling to part for a moment. Even when he was seriously ill and vomiting blood, he rushed back here overnight.” I pursed my lips, guilt welling up. A knock sounded at the door. The rushing butler spoke cautiously. “Mr. Thorne, Nanny Wang couldn’t reach you and asked me to tell you that another woman who looks like the Madam has appeared around the young master.” “This time she’s tricked the young master completely. He insists on recognizing her as his mother. The young master just had surgery and probably misses the Madam, so I’m a bit worried he’ll be deceived by that woman. Should you… go see the young master?” Being suddenly interrupted, Julian’s voice was displeased. “Let him recognize whoever he wants as his mom. Get out. Don’t disturb me and my wife celebrating our anniversary.” The butler sighed and left silently. My brows knitted tightly. Even more confused. Why was Julian’s attitude towards his son so terrible? What exactly happened between father and son? “Sorry, I was a bit loud just now. Did I scare you?” Julian apologized in a low voice, his fingertips repeatedly stroking the puppet’s hair, endless pain and loneliness flashing in his eyes. “Serena, I miss you so much. When will you come back to see me?” I unconsciously held my breath, afraid he would discover me. I asked the System. “He looks a bit crazy, but he’s alive and kicking. What did you mean by ‘something happened’ just now?” Before the System could answer, a crimson red reflected on the screen. Julian unhesitatingly slit his wrist, watching coldly as blood soaked the puppet’s dress. My pupils shrank violently. “What is he doing! Does he have a death wish?” The System spoke. “This is a ritual. It’s said that on a couple’s wedding anniversary, if one drips their blood on a puppet, the other half’s soul will possess the puppet.” “He might be trying to summon you back this way.” I gritted my teeth. “What a lunatic.” There wasn’t a single servant inside or outside the villa now; the butler had just been driven away by Julian. His cut was deep. If this continued, he might really die here today. Panic grew in my heart, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “System, didn’t you want me back to stabilize the world? If a powerful villain like Julian dies, what’s the point of the protagonist in the book? A strong villain makes a strong protagonist. Think of a way to save him!” “Don’t worry, Host. There is a way.” The next second, the photo hanging on the wall smashed onto the table with a snap. The first aid kit bounced up and landed heavily at Julian’s feet. That was the first aid kit I prepared for Julian a long time ago. At that time, Julian was always accidentally hurting himself, so I prepared a kit with all the medicines he commonly used. Julian froze as expected, his gaze falling on the puppet in front of him, eyes crazy and obsessed. “Serena, are you back?” Long silence. No answer. He pulled the corner of his mouth, laughing self-deprecatingly. “I really am crazy, actually thinking you would possess a puppet.” The System announced good news. “Host, the time for the soul-summoning ritual has passed. If the target wants to cut his wrist and drip blood, he’ll have to wait until next year.” I looked at Julian. Sure enough, he threw away the knife in his hand, squatted down to pick up the bandage spilled from the kit, and wrapped it around his wrist loop by loop. I breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Julian’s pale face, my heart ached a little more. “Does Julian bleed himself once every year after I left?” “Pretty much. But the cuts weren’t this deep before. Maybe just for a moment just now, he really wanted to die for love.” I fell silent, the guilt growing stronger. The System retracted the screen. My gaze returned to the hospital room. Leo beside me was curled up in a ball, clutching my hand tightly for fear I would leave. My heart softened unconsciously again. This was actually my child with Julian. He looked like him, and also very much like me. I couldn’t help but smile. When the sun set, Leo woke up suddenly. Seeing his pale face, I gently wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and asked softly. “Did you have a nightmare?” Seeing me, Leo’s eyes instantly turned red, and he buried his head in my arms. “Mom, it really is you. You really came back, and you really didn’t leave.” “You don’t know, I just dreamed that the madman killed all the people who looked like you.” Leo trembled slightly in my arms, gritting his teeth. “That man is not only crazy but also blind. He might not recognize you like I did. He might treat you like the others and kill you.” Mentioning Julian, Leo’s face was full of disgust and resistance. I genuinely didn’t understand. Leo was raised by Julian. How could the father-son relationship be this bad? Just as I was about to ask, Leo jumped out of bed and looked at me seriously. “Mom, he’s sick in the head. I know you left because you hated him too. But I’m normal. Why don’t you take me with you? I can make money and do housework!” With that, Leo took out several bank cards from his schoolbag and stuffed them all into my hand. “There’s a total of ten million in the cards. Although it’s not much, I’ll work hard to earn more later and support you for the rest of my life.” Holding the bank cards, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Leo, why do you hate your dad so much and curse him like that?” Leo didn’t answer. His warm little hand held mine, his voice softening a bit. “Mom, can I answer this question after we leave?” Seeing the slightly pleading look in Leo’s eyes, my heart melted completely. “Okay, I promise you. Let’s go.” A flash of joy appeared in Leo’s eyes. He held my hand and walked out, comforting me at the same time. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll take you to escape and protect you… forever.” Before he could finish, Leo suddenly bumped into a tall, solid wall of a person. My expression changed abruptly, and my steps halted. The man stared straight at me, lips slightly curved, charming yet weirdly dangerous. “Serena, you’d rather run with him than stay for me? Want to abandon me a second time, hmm?” 3 Julian had lost a lot of weight, appearing even more noble and cold. His gaze swept indifferently over Leo, finally landing on my face. “Serena, can we talk?” Leo shivered under his gaze, but still gritted his teeth and stood in front of me, looking at his father warily. “Don’t think I don’t know what you want to do. I warn you, don’t even think about hurting her.” I avoided Julian’s gaze guiltily. Speaking of which, whether in the past or now, Julian had a clear conscience towards me. It was I who let him down time and again. Feeling even more guilty for no reason… The atmosphere was deadlocked. The System suddenly appeared, egging me on. “Host, news just came from headquarters. As long as the target’s emotions stabilize, your mission is complete. This conversation is a very good opportunity.” I nodded in agreement, finally looking at Julian and agreeing. “Okay, let’s talk.” Leo grabbed the hem of my clothes, his face full of worry. “Mom, don’t go.” I patted his head and comforted him, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Only then did Leo gently let go of my clothes. Watching Julian lead me away, he chased after us unwillingly. Just a few steps later, a nurse grabbed him. “Little one, where are you going? It’s time for your injection.” Leo said anxiously, “My mom, she…” “Okay, okay, after the injection, sister will take you to find your mom. Be good now, okay?” With that, without giving Leo a chance to speak, the nurse picked him up and walked towards the ward. I gave Leo a reassuring look. Julian suddenly spoke. “You care about that kid a lot?” His tone was sour with jealousy. I found it strange. “Leo is our child. How could I not care?” “Heh.” Julian laughed self-deprecatingly. “So you’d rather listen to him and leave with him than come see me, right?” “Serena, do you know I waited for you for six whole years? How can your heart be so cruel?” Hearing Julian’s trembling, hoarse voice, my heart felt blocked by a huge stone. “I’m sorry.” Julian tightened his grip on my hand, harder and harder. “Serena, that’s not what I want to hear.” He suddenly quickened his pace, dragging me into an empty ward and pinning me against the wall. I felt a sense of doom and instinctively wanted to run. Julian grabbed me, pinning my hands tightly against the wall, his movements carrying irresistible force. He leaned close to my ear, his self-deprecating voice carrying an anger that couldn’t be quelled. “You want to leave me that much, huh?” He kicked the door shut. The next second, Julian’s lips pressed against mine without explanation, his breath hot enough to ignite the air. His intensity grew. I was kissed to the point of suffocation and turned my head away sharply, begging. “Julian, let go of me. It really hurts.” Hearing my voice, his reason gradually returned, and he slowly let go of me. I dropped my hands. Julian saw the two red marks on my wrists where he had gripped them, and fully regained his senses. Guilt flashed in his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll find you some medicine.” I pulled him back. “It’ll fade in a bit. Julian, what did you want to talk about?” Julian didn’t answer but still found me the medicine. I was helped into a chair by Julian. He squatted in front of me, silently applying the ointment for me. I pursed my lips. Julian’s suit sleeve rolled up slightly, revealing that shocking scar on his wrist. The bandage that should have been there was removed by him at some point. I grabbed his wrist. Julian’s eyes flickered, and he immediately pulled down his sleeve, saying indifferently. “It’s nothing. Accidentally cut it.” How was this an accidental cut? It was clearly done by Julian himself when he was bloodletting for that ritual. Hearing Julian’s indifferent tone, I was instantly furious. “Julian, do you cherish yourself so little?” Not expecting me to be so angry, Julian paused, then chuckled. “Serena, are you caring about me?” “What else? Julian, if I’m not by your side, can’t you learn to cherish yourself?” I scolded him angrily. The moment our eyes met, I froze. Julian’s eyes were red, the corners of his mouth raised in a smile. “You left so heartlessly back then. I thought you wouldn’t feel sorry for me anymore.” His words choked me up. I said dryly, “I didn’t say I didn’t feel sorry for you.” I got up, found a bandage in the ward, and re-wrapped it for him. Afraid he would take it off again, I tied two knots specifically. “You are not allowed to take it off, do you hear me?” 4 Julian lowered his head and gave a hum of agreement. “I know. I have something to give you.” I saw him take a bracelet out of his pocket and put it on my wrist. “This should be very important to you. It was accidentally thrown into the sea the day you left. After I picked it up, I kept it with me. It waited for you with me for six years.” I raised my hand, slightly stunned. This was my mother’s relic from the real world. Six years ago, the day I faked my death. The System wanted me to throw the suitcase into the sea to simulate suicide. I left in a hurry that day, so I accidentally put the bracelet in the suitcase too. After returning to the real world, I felt bad for a long time. I didn’t expect that now, this bracelet had returned to my hands. I never mentioned to Julian that this bracelet was important to me, yet he keenly sensed it. My feelings were mixed. Seeing my surprise, Julian lowered his eyes and smiled. “You abandoned me and left. It’s been six years, and I can’t hate you at all.” “Even if I know that all your kindness to me was just for the mission, I would still fall for it.” Julian closed his eyes, two lines of clear tears falling, his tone self-deprecating. “Serena, am I stupid?” Less than two years after graduating from college, relying on his own ability and means, he leaped from being the neglected child of the Thorne family to the President Thorne everyone feared. He had money and power; everyone envied his success. But now, he insisted on begging for that worthless love from me. Julian, you really are stupid. A dense pain rose uncontrollably in my heart. I unconsciously raised my hand and wiped away his tears. “These six years, you’ve suffered.” Julian turned his head away. “I didn’t want to hear your apology, Serena.” He paused, finally looking at me, eyes flickering. “Can you stay here and accompany me?” I fell silent. Back then, the System promised that after completing the mission, it would send me back to the real world and give me endless wealth. So at the beginning, every kindness I showed Julian was indeed just with the mindset of completing the mission. Even if I truly fell in love later, I didn’t stay. After all, people’s hearts change easily. Who knows if many years later, Julian would still love me as before? I trusted the money in my own hands more. Before I could speak, a shout came from outside the ward door. “Mom, I don’t allow you to stay with him!” The door was slammed open. Leo stumbled in, stood in front of me, pointed at his dad and cursed. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning! Besides, this is my mom. Why should she stay with you? She should take me and leave together!” Julian frowned and sneered. “She is my wife. Why should she take you?” Leo also sneered. “But she didn’t want you six years ago.” These words stabbed Julian fiercely. A cold storm surged in his dark pupils. “Say that again?” Seeing the situation was bad, I covered Leo’s mouth and scolded. “Enough, both of you shut up.”

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After the esports tournament, a new female member joined my husband’s team. At the celebration party, this “pick-me girl” dragged him to drink and wouldn’t let him go home. “What are women worth? Tonight, us brothers drink until we drop! Agreed? No one goes home.” “Listening to a woman is so weak. Listen to Daddy here, women can’t be spoiled…” Hearing this, I pushed open the door of the private room, looking aggrieved. “Honey, why aren’t you home yet? I was worried about you…” I transformed into a master manipulator to play against this pick-me girl, ruining her reputation completely. Trying to outplay me at my own game? Her skills are a little too shallow. 1 It was nearly midnight, and Jason still hadn’t returned from the celebration party. Seeing the message on my phone, I drove to the hotel with a cold face. Laughter and drinking sounds filled the private room. I pushed the door open. The lively atmosphere inside quieted for a moment, and several esports players turned to look at me blankly. The woman in the main seat raised her glass as if she hadn’t noticed the commotion behind her. “Drink! Why aren’t you drinking? Tonight we don’t go home until we’re drunk. Let’s see who dares not give Daddy face!” At a gathering after the celebration party, she was still wearing a strapless gown. Her skin was fair, her chest full, standing out conspicuously among a group of burly men. This must be the new member, Zoey, the only female player exceptionally recruited by the team “Headwind” in all its years. After drinking, she put down her glass with a grin and fell towards Jason as if exhausted. I noticed Jason abruptly turned away. So, Zoey fell into the arms of the captain, Feng. Holding the beauty, Feng smiled contentedly. Seeing me approach, Zoey’s expression changed for a second, jealousy flashing in her eyes. I raised an eyebrow, knowing my intuition was right. This person was indeed a “pick-me girl”—acting like one of the guys to get close to them. No wonder Jason texted me for help, saying Zoey kept pouring him drinks and throwing herself at him. Did no one tell her that I’m the one with perfect scores in manipulation? So, in front of everyone, I pouted and threw myself into Jason’s arms delicately. “It’s so late, I was really worried about you…” Jason played basketball in high school and was 6’3″. Later recruited by the esports team, he didn’t forget to work out. He was known as the “cool guy with a cold face” and attracted many fangirls. I was a big pervert. Back then, I fell for Jason’s pecs and decided to pursue him. We got married successfully a year later. Now suddenly hugged by me, Jason’s tall body stiffened, then he unnaturally hugged me back, even his ears turning a light pink. I squeezed out two tears, and Jason comforted me helplessly. “I’m fine, don’t be scared… I’ll go back with you right away.” The cold and silent man turned into putty in my hands, causing the crowd to tease. “No wonder they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Look how much sister-in-law missed you.” “Heard long ago that sister-in-law is a beauty. Seeing her today, she really is. Jason is lucky.” “You two have such a good relationship. Wishing you a long life together. Cheers to you.” They laughed and joked, congratulating us on our harmonious life. Only Zoey, leaning on Feng, looked at me with a gloomy face. Jason was a bit embarrassed but didn’t let go of my hand. Feeling my cold palm, Jason looked at me worriedly, said goodbye, and was about to leave with me. Zoey, however, lunged forward crazily, trying to rub her full chest against Jason’s arm. “Us brothers play together every day. During training camp, we even eat and live together. Now your wife comes and you want to leave? Are you not taking Daddy seriously?” She was drunk and acting out of line. Everyone thought she was just being a drunkard, so no one stopped her immediately. Jason knew better. He turned to avoid her, not forgetting to glance at me worriedly. Zoey held her wine glass with a mocking face: “Oh, the son has grown up and won’t listen to his dad. Your brother treats you with all his heart, and you won’t even have a drink.” Turning her head, she looked at me with a grin, insinuating: “It’s rare to be happy today. Sister-in-law, be generous. We haven’t had enough to drink. Us brothers are born to love freedom; you can’t control us too tightly, or it will backfire.” Implied meaning: I’m petty and bossy. The esports players watched grinningly, treating it as a show. Feng actually nodded. Seeing this, Zoey gained confidence. Swaying, she raised her glass, thrusting her chest towards Jason. “My good son, come drink! We are all brothers, don’t be petty like women.” Seeing those breasts about to hit him, I pulled Jason aside to dodge. Letting Zoey fall flat on her face unable to stop her momentum. I looked at Jason coquettishly: “Why didn’t you know to dodge? You’re so big and clumsy; what if you hurt Zoey? She is a girl after all.” 2 Blushing from my teasing, Jason frowned and blurted out: “None of my business. She threw herself at me on purpose.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zoey’s gaze shooting daggers. I smiled innocently: “What are you saying? If Zoey threw herself at you on purpose, what would that make her?” “I don’t care what she becomes. Anyway, I’m married, and I only have you in my heart. It’s useless for anyone to throw themselves at me,” Jason blurted out. Hearing Jason’s blunt words, Zoey’s face turned completely dark. The esports players looked at Jason and Zoey thoughtfully. As if just noticing Zoey still on the floor, I reminded them: “Quick, fix Zoey’s clothes and help her up. What if someone takes a picture and puts it online? Cyberbullying is scary.” After speaking, I hid behind Jason as if scared. Only then did everyone realize how inappropriate Zoey’s attire was, exposing half her chest while leaning on a married man. If it were really photographed… Everyone gasped. Their team had just entered the top eight in the Asian region, and their opponents were the always troublesome Korean team. Now was the time when everyone was watching. If photos of Headwind members in messy relationships or disheveled clothes leaked online, they would inevitably be trending and scolded again. Realizing the seriousness of the matter, the members criticized Zoey for the first time. Even Feng scolded her with a dark face. “I know you are usually careless, but our team is just starting out. Public image is still needed. Get up quickly.” “And your clothes. Calling yourself brother all day, you’re not a real man after all. How can you expose so much?” “Good thing sister-in-law is meticulous, otherwise we’d get scolded again. Those Koreans are looking for our faults recently.” After saying a few things, they smiled awkwardly, feeling more and more that Zoey’s behavior just now was inappropriate. They came over to apologize to me one after another, asking me not to argue with a drunkard. Hearing this, Zoey first glared at me darkly, then rolled her eyes and actually took the initiative to toast me. “Sister-in-law, don’t be angry. I’ve been mixing with men for too long and my personality is too casual. I apologize if I offended you; please don’t hold it against me. “Jason and I are just pure good brothers. We are used to playing together every day and lost our sense of propriety for a moment. This time it’s my fault. To apologize, if Jason bullies you in the future, just tell me, and I will definitely settle the score with him for you!” After speaking, she drank it all in one gulp. Seeing her being so sensible, the surrounding esports players looked at her with admiration. I sneered in my heart. Calling it an apology, she was actually implying I was petty and sensitive, and deliberately showing she was closer to Jason. If I didn’t know Jason wasn’t close to her at all, I might have been fooled. Seeing me looking down without reaction, people around tried to smooth things over, speaking for Zoey. “Sister-in-law, don’t mind her. Zoey is used to joking around with us every day; she actually has no bad intentions.” “Exactly, she treats us as good brothers. She drank too much today.” I looked up with tears in my eyes, exposing my reddened eyes to everyone, showing weakness appropriately: “Sister says this to imply I am petty and bossy, but I didn’t do anything. “Do you guys dislike me? Then I’ll leave. “Here’s the stomach medicine. You asked me to bring it, I didn’t expect so many things to happen.” Saying this, I threw the stomach medicine to Jason and ran out. Under the light, tears streaked across my fair cheeks, paired with red eyes, looking particularly pitiable. Jason panicked and chased me out. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to drop a harsh word: “Next time anyone speaks ill of my wife, don’t blame me for falling out!” This was the first time Jason got angry. The room fell silent unconsciously. Then finally someone couldn’t help looking at Zoey with blame. “Why did you talk about them?” “Exactly, the couple was fine, and you meddled.” “You wore clothes like that to rub against Jason. Sister-in-law didn’t get angry with you, but you pissed her off instead. Zoey, you went a bit too far this time.” They criticized her one by one. Because of her high skills and gender advantage, Zoey had always been pampered by the members, but tonight she hit a wall repeatedly. At the corner of the corridor, I turned back and saw Zoey’s face had turned completely black, then I smiled satisfactorily. This is just the beginning. Next time this pick-me girl causes trouble, I’ll play her until she doesn’t know north from south. 3 When we got home, before I could say anything, Jason lay on me aggrievedly. Rubbing his head against my shoulder, like a large dog bullied by outsiders coming home to find his owner for justice. “I really have no interest in Zoey at all. Wifey, you are the number one in my heart. Otherwise, how could I text you to save me?” I knew what he meant. Tonight in the private room, I was deliberately acting for them too. But thinking of Zoey exposing her chest and clinging to Jason, I still felt angry. “Who knows what you guys do during training? You go for two months, eating and living with Zoey every day…” As I spoke, I really felt aggrieved, my eyes turning slightly red. Being together for so long, who knows if feelings developed between Jason and Zoey over time? Seeing I took it seriously, Jason explained anxiously: “That’s all Zoey’s nonsense. She lives in Feng’s suite. Us guys live in the dorms; we don’t live together at all. Wifey, I swear my male virtue hasn’t diminished a bit. I avoid Zoey when I’m outside.” Jason knelt on the bed, raising three fingers to swear. Because of this posture, his body leaned forward, his pecs almost bursting out. I looked up at him, my face turning slightly red at this scene: “Really?” Jason looked down at me. After our gazes intertwined, his look gradually became ambiguous. Breathing became heavy in the small space. He pulled my hand towards himself, his deep male voice sounding: “Wifey, my male virtue hasn’t diminished at all; I kept it all for you. If you don’t believe me, feel it. I know you like this. “We were separated for so long… didn’t you miss me?” Jason spoke aggrievedly. Strangely bewitched, I actually started to cooperate with Jason’s movements. A chaotic night… When I woke up the next day, I was unusually embarrassed. Tossing and turning so many times a night, Jason was an obedient dog off the bed, but a wild wolf on it. Especially since this wolf had been hungry for two months. In the end, I was too tired, crying that I absolutely believed him before Jason let me go. “Ding,” Jason’s WeChat received a message. “Wifey, check it for me.” Jason turned over sleepily in bed, not planning to get up. I went over to look. It was actually Zoey. She sent a picture of her sweaty face from morning exercise. The point was, she was wearing a white T-shirt. Wet with sweat, the clothes stuck to her body, revealing her good curves. Especially the two mounds on her chest, their presence was amazing. The caption was: [Up yet? Daddy is already doing morning exercises. Did sister-in-law wear you out last night? I told you, women are trouble. It’s happier being with Daddy. Time to come out and play? Waiting at the arcade.] This pick-me girl, never ending, is she? So angry I scratched Jason awake directly, letting him see what this “good Daddy” sent again. Jason scratched his head in annoyance, didn’t dare get angry at me, so he aimed the cannon at Zoey. He directly screenshotted and forwarded it to the team’s group chat, not leaving out that photo, then specifically tagged Zoey and Feng. [First, my wife is gentle and didn’t wear me out at all. Second, thinking of team harmony, I didn’t want to argue with you, but what do you mean by doing this again and again? Third, Captain, are you going to manage this? How many times has this been?] No messages in the group for a while. After a long time, Zoey came out to save face: “Hahaha, I acted inappropriately. Running in the morning, I suddenly thought of last night and said it casually. Don’t mind my bad way of speaking.” Jason: “I mind very much. Zoey, do you know this behavior is called being a homewrecker outside? If not for considering Headwind, I would definitely beat you up.” As soon as the words came out, Zoey played dead directly in the group chat. A while later, Feng came out to state his position: “Zoey is young, just turned twenty this year, and has been hanging out with men all the time. It’s understandable if her behavior is a bit out of line. I will definitely educate her well, won’t happen again!” Said to be blame, but the words were full of defense. Looking at Zoey’s avatar in the group chat, I was really curious what magic this pick-me girl had that Feng defended her like this. 4 The next day, I accompanied Jason to the preliminary group match. This match was against South Korea and would be live-streamed throughout. Many people went to the scene to cheer. When I got there, the audience seats were already full. The Koreans opposite were screaming to cheer for themselves, and our side was not outdone; the cheers from the audience resounded through the sky. Influenced by such an atmosphere, I even felt a surge of excitement and wanted to go up and play a round. Jason had joined the esports team for six years, and his skills were already outstanding. Now with the addition of Zoey, it was even more powerful, almost suppressing the opponent. This pick-me girl indeed had some skills, always hiding in the blind spots of vision, intercepting the enemy unexpectedly. Within thirty minutes of the start, Zoey harvested two lives. It seemed that yesterday’s unhappiness did not affect the strength of these two. “Zoey is awesome! Kill them.” “Can Zoey predict directly? Worthy of being the national server sharpshooter.” Zoey’s marksmanship and prediction were indeed awesome. I looked at Zoey’s smug face on the big screen, but always felt something was wrong, as if it went too smoothly. Anyway, Jason and Zoey performed stably in this game. Headwind won without suspense. The scene exploded with excitement: “Jason is awesome, never made a mistake in so many years of competition!” “Zoey is my only god, marksmanship is simply divine!” “Headwind cannot do without you two!” “Jason is the most handsome one in Headwind, right? So handsome I’m going crazy, skills so stable.” Applause thundered, the venue full of cheers for Jason and Zoey. Few mentioned the names of other members. Zoey was smiling and high-fiving the audience in the first row, setting off another frenzy. Her heroic appearance during the game attracted many fangirls; no wonder she became so popular in such a short time. Jason saw me, ignored the fans, and walked straight towards me. Some people on the scene knew our relationship, and teasing “Oh” sounds rang out. I noticed Feng walking at the end of the team. Hearing the fans’ congratulations, his face looked somewhat gloomy. Jason walked to my side with his long legs in a few steps: “Why did you come?” I smiled and replied: “Rare for you guys to play at home, I also wanted to see the handsomest Brother Jason of Headwind.” “People are watching, don’t tease. Wait for me a bit, we’ll finish after confirming the score.” Jason waved his hand embarrassedly, his face slightly red. This guy, his skin gets thin as soon as he’s outside, pure悶騷 (outwardly cold, inwardly passionate). Jason went to the waiting area first, Zoey following behind. She came over smiling. To outsiders, our relationship should look good. “Sister-in-law came? This is a man’s game, do you understand it? “Isn’t my coordination with Jason tacit? On the game field, we are a match made in heaven.” I blinked, looking at her innocently: “How can a man and a man be a match made in heaven? My husband isn’t gay.”

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1 Five years after she cut me out of her life, my sister, a homicide detective, finally got her transfer back to Oakhaven. She came back for one reason: to reopen the case of her childhood sweetheart’s father, murdered all those years ago. And me? I was just a nobody, sorting parts on an assembly line for twenty bucks an hour. When she and her team stormed the factory floor, I kept my head down, my hands moving mechanically, pretending not to see her. I didn’t look up until the cold steel of the cuffs clicked around my wrists. Her eyes were bloodshot with a hatred so pure it burned. “Julian’s father has been dead for five years,” she seethed, her voice shaking. “What gives you the right to live so peacefully?” She yanked me to my feet. “And Mom! She’s been in on this with you, hasn’t she? Hiding from me for five years!” A bitter sting filled my nose, and for a second, the world swam out of focus. She didn’t know. Our mother was buried in the spring of that same year, five years ago. And I had just been clinging to life, a ghost waiting for my own sister to clear my name. But looking at her now, I saw the truth. The sister I had waited five long years for was just another stranger. … Cici’s hands trembled as she cuffed me, the metal biting painfully into my skin. “Andrew,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “I don’t care how you dodged justice back then. This time, I’ll be the one to put you away.” The other workers held their breath, a silent audience to our broken family drama. I just managed a quiet “Okay,” and let her march me to her car. The moment we arrived at the station, Julian lunged at me, his face a mask of grief and rage. “What did my father ever do to you?” he screamed, his fists hammering against my chest. “How could you kill him? I want you to pay with your blood!” He beat me, spat on me, his fury a familiar storm I had weathered countless times before. Just like five years ago. I was used to it. While Cici watched with cold disgust, I met his eyes calmly. “You know exactly what happened that night.” A split second later, a sharp crack exploded against my cheek. My sister’s hand. Her other fist was clenched tight, her brow furrowed in a knot of fury. “Five years and you still haven’t learned? You were holding the knife, Andrew. Julian’s father was bleeding out on the floor. If it wasn’t you, who was it?” She shoved her phone into my chest. “You won’t admit it? Fine. Call Mom right now. I want to hear what kind of monster she’s raised these past five years!” The phone’s hard edge struck my face, and a sharp, clear pain finally lanced through my heart. If it hadn’t been for Julian’s monster of a father, my mother never would have been so violated, so broken that she took her own life. And I wouldn’t have been a helpless kid grabbing the first weapon I could find, a kitchen knife, to make him stop. An act that turned me into a pariah, forced to scrape by on a few thousand a month, waiting for the one person I thought I could trust, my detective sister, to bring justice for my mother and me. I looked at her cold, unforgiving face and knew my hope was dead. A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped me. “Mom… she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Cici’s jaw clenched, her eyes threaded with red. Five years had done nothing to soften her hatred for me. It had only let it fester. She dragged me away roughly, ordering an officer to put me in a holding cell. “Still as stubborn as ever, trying to piss me off. Is that it? Then you can sit in here and think it over until you’re ready to talk to me like a human being!” A familiar voice spoke up beside her. “Captain, we don’t have any evidence. We can’t legally hold him like this…” “Shut up! I’ll take the heat for it. He made his bed, now he can lie in it.” Cici glared at me one last time before slamming the cell door. The heavy click of the lock echoed in my chest, throwing me back five years, to the sound of her voice screaming as she shoved my head into a toilet bowl. “What did Julian ever do to you? Why would you do something so twisted, so evil? How the hell did I end up with a brother like you!” I had closed my eyes then, thinking it would be easier to just let the water fill my lungs. But I couldn’t. What would happen to Mom? She’d escaped with a permanently injured leg. She only had me. So I fought back, thrashing free from my sister’s grip, choking out the words. “That animal deserved to die! It was self-defense!” For five years, I’d held onto the fantasy that my sister, the police officer, would eventually see the truth and stand with us. It was that hope that kept me alive, like a stray dog, even as a deep depression took root in my soul. But now, that was over. At least I wasn’t waiting for a miracle anymore, just for my next twenty-dollar-an-hour paycheck to keep myself breathing. I finally found the courage to make the call. I dialed my psychiatrist. “I need you to help me arrange for the procedure. Euthanasia. As soon as possible.” “…But the case wasn’t your fault, Andrew,” he said gently. “Are you still so determined not to forgive yourself?” My hand tightened on the phone, my heart feeling like it was being crushed into pulp. Back then, my own sister, who should have been recused as a family member, stood up in court and testified against me. “My brother made a mistake, and as his sister, I have to take responsibility. Letting him off easy will only destroy him!” She appealed the court’s decision again and again, painting me as a vicious killer in the public eye. That’s when the depression hit. The night Mom hanged herself, I swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills. In a last, foggy moment of panic, I called my sister, begging for help. Her voice had been like ice. “If you’re going to die, then just die. Don’t call me looking for pity.” I buried our mother alone. I cried until I had no tears left. Every year after that, on the anniversary of her death, I couldn’t stop myself from calling the sister who had disowned me. But she was always busy. Taking Julian to a doctor’s appointment, buying him fireworks, renting a yacht to cheer him up. “Julian lost his father because of you,” she’d once snapped. “I’m atoning for your sins. Don’t be so ungrateful!” After that, she officially cut all ties, legally dissolving our relationship as siblings. But a part of me, the little boy I used to be, still dreamed that one day she would believe me. That she would put her hand on my head and tell me I had been brave. So I took the factory job. The pay was garbage, but they didn’t care about my depression. After three days in the holding cell, the call I was dreading came. My boss sounded apologetic. “Look, kid, my hands are tied. If you’re really in some kind of legal trouble, it could sink my whole business.” My mind went blank. The money for Mom’s burial plot, the money for the euthanasia procedure… it all depended on that job. My composure finally shattered. I started rattling the bars of the cell, screaming. “Cici! Please, let me out! I have to get to work! I can’t lose this job!” When she finally appeared, her face a mask of annoyance, the panic attack was already closing in, squeezing the air from my lungs. “Wow, your acting has really improved over the years,” she said with a sneer. “You can even fake a panic attack now? The only one who’s really depressed is Julian!” She leaned closer. “And don’t call me your sister. The word makes me sick.” Each word was a punch to the gut, stealing my breath. I forced myself to change my address. “De… Detective,” I gasped. “You can’t just… lock me up like this. I’m innocent.” Cici’s expression darkened, her brow knitting together. “You’re unbelievable, Andrew.” Just then, her phone rang. Julian’s soft, pleading voice drifted from the speaker. “Cici, you promised you’d take me to that new gallery opening. When are you coming to get me?” Her face and tone softened instantly. “I’m on my way.” As she turned to leave, another call came in, this time on my cheap burner phone. It was the administrator from the cemetery. “Mr. Hayes? If this month’s maintenance fee isn’t paid soon, we’ll have no choice but to remove the ashes from the niche.” The world dropped out from under me. My legs gave way, and I collapsed. Cici, already halfway out the door, stopped and spun around, her eyes wide with confusion. “Ashes? Whose ashes?” When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. A second later, Cici’s anxious face swam into my vision. “The cemetery said the deceased’s last name was Lynn. Who is it? Just tell me, Andrew. I’ll believe you.” For a heart-stopping moment, I wanted to scream it at her. Our mother. Our mother took her own life five years ago because she couldn’t live with the shame. She’s gone. I remembered holding her cold hand as she was dying, her last words a whisper for her daughter. “Cici… make that bastard pay.” I had choked back my own tears to promise her. “Cici will get him, Mom. She’s the best detective in the world. She’ll get justice for you.” But the words died on my lips, replaced by a bitter smile. “I don’t know. A distant relative, maybe.” Almost every time I went to visit Mom’s grave, I’d see Cici there with Julian, laying flowers on his father’s tomb. She would hold him as he wept, offering him the comfort and warmth she had always denied me. I would watch from a distance, hidden behind other gravestones, a toxic mix of envy and hatred churning in my gut. Seeing the stubborn set of my jaw, Cici’s face hardened. “Only Mom could ever handle you when you get like this,” she snapped. “Maybe a couple of years in prison will finally teach you some humility!” With that, she took another call and stormed out of the room. I glanced at the calendar on the wall. Today was the anniversary of Mom’s death. Which meant it was also the anniversary of the death of Julian’s father. Of course. She was rushing off to be with him. Dragging my weak body out of bed, I did what I had done for the past five years. I bought a bouquet of sunflowers, Mom’s favorite, and went to the cemetery alone. I’d barely made it through the gates when Julian charged at me like a wild animal. “You have the nerve to show your face here? Today of all days? Are you doing this on purpose?” His nails raked across my face, leaving burning trails of pain. I clenched my fists, fighting to stay calm. “Get off me,” I said through gritted teeth. Julian’s face twisted. “Cici!” he wailed. She was there in an instant. Without asking a single question, she shoved me hard, sending me sprawling to the ground. “Are you insane, Andrew? Julian is grieving! Why would you come here just to provoke him?” The sunflowers scattered across the grass. I scrambled to gather them, a desperate grief clawing at me. A moment later, an expensive leather shoe pressed down hard on the back of my hand. I hissed in pain, snatching my hand back as involuntary tears streamed down my face. “It’s a day of mourning, Andrew, and you bring these bright, cheerful flowers?” Cici’s voice was dangerously low as she stared down at me, not a flicker of remorse in her eyes. “Are you trying to mock us?” She had really forgotten. Every year on her birthday, Mom would buy herself a bouquet of sunflowers. “I want you and your sister to grow up strong and bright like these,” she used to say. “And I’ll always be your sun.” Now, the only person in Cici’s heart was the son of the man who had destroyed our sun forever. I ignored the pain and reached for the crushed petals with my bloodied hand. For a second, Cici froze, her breath catching. But then Julian pulled a knife from his bag and pressed it to his own throat. “It’s all my fault! I couldn’t protect my dad! You two can have your happy reunion. I’m going to be with him!” “No!” Cici cried, her face pale with panic. She didn’t dare move. Then, her eyes, cold and hard, fixed on me. She spoke through clenched teeth. “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees and apologize to Julian’s father. Now!” A roaring filled my ears. “You don’t deserve to be my sister!” I screamed, my voice raw and cracking. She didn’t even flinch. She just kicked the back of my knee, hard. The joint buckled with a fiery agony, and I collapsed onto the ground in front of Mr. Vance’s tombstone. “Apologize!” Before I could answer, a group of people visiting a nearby grave recognized me. Phones came out, cameras pointing. “That’s him! The murderer from that case years ago! What is he even doing here?” “He’s probably up to no good. Someone should call the cops and have him locked up for good!” The crowd buzzed, their whispers loud and sharp. How could a decorated detective captain have a killer for a brother? The shame on Cici’s face was unmistakable. Having me for a brother was an embarrassment. “Is it that hard to say you’re sorry?” she demanded. I just stared back, my eyes burning. Seeing my defiance, Julian started sobbing louder, nicking his own skin with the knife. That was it. Cici lost her patience. She snatched a thick stick from a groundskeeper’s cart and brought it down hard across my legs. The pain was blinding, a white-hot agony that felt like my bones were splitting. “Aaargh!” A bucket of red paint came next, dumped over my head, the thick liquid blinding me. Humiliation and pain washed over me in a suffocating wave. My mouth filled with the taste of blood, and a wild, crazed laugh bubbled up from my chest. “You’re not my sister anymore! And you will never see Mom again!” Her head snapped up. “Don’t you dare say that! You and Mom are only giving me the silent treatment because you want me to come home! You don’t have to be so stubborn about it!” She shot a look at the crowd, and they understood. Hands grabbed my head, forcing it down, slamming my forehead against the cold stone of the grave three times. Murderer. You deserve to die. The curses swirled around me, but nothing was more humiliating than this. Being forced to bow to the man who had destroyed my life. Through the red haze, I saw Julian, hiding behind Cici, a triumphant smirk on his face. It was like they were acting on her command, a frenzied mob venting their rage. They stomped on my hands, and I heard the sickening snap of my own fingers. A raw, piercing scream tore from my throat, echoing across the hillside. When I was barely conscious, Cici finally raised a hand. “That’s enough. I’ll be putting him in prison myself soon enough. Someone call an ambulance.” I was left on the ground like a piece of trash. Through my blurred vision, I thought I saw a flicker of something, maybe regret, in her eyes. When the ambulance arrived, it wasn’t a paramedic who stepped out, but my psychiatrist. With the last of my strength, I begged him. “No more waiting. Schedule it for today. Please.” … Cici stood frozen, watching the ambulance disappear down the winding road, a sour feeling churning in her stomach. Just then, a group of cemetery workers walked past, carrying a tombstone. She glanced at it, then felt a strange premonition. “Why are you moving that one?” she asked. A worker sighed. “The man’s son couldn’t afford the upkeep fees anymore. We have to move it to the public repository.” The name and photograph on the granite slab flashed past her eyes. Cici’s world tilted, her breath catching in her throat…

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I’m a fertility specialist, though my clients whisper a different title for me in the dark corners of high society: The Resurrectionist. By day, I handle standard IVF cases at a private clinic. By night, I use a lost, archaic technique to harvest viable genetic material—sperm—from men who have just died. It’s a bizarre, exhausting, and highly illegal trade, so I only work for the ultra-wealthy. My starting price is three million dollars. Today, I had just finished sipping champagne at a client’s grandson’s christening when a rush order came in. If I take this job, he will be my seventeenth “husband.” 1 I hadn’t even finished my crab cake when Mrs. Vanderbilt dragged me into the coatroom. “Raven, you have to help. The sky is falling over at the Sterling estate!” “Sterling?” I asked, pulling my sequined headband off. “Julian Sterling. The second son of the billionaire Arthur Sterling. He died this morning. It’s a tragedy—he was supposed to get married next month.” Mrs. Vanderbilt looked frantic. “The body is barely cold. They need an heir, Raven. If they don’t get a child, the Sterling legacy ends.” “If you agree, they’ll pay twenty million. The jet is already on its way.” An out-of-state job? I instinctively wanted to refuse. But then I remembered who the Sterlings were. Old money. Real estate tycoons. I held up five fingers. “Fifty million?” Mrs. Vanderbilt blinked, then made a quick call. She hung up and sighed in relief. “They agreed. But they want to talk to you.” I took the phone. A raspy, grief-stricken male voice spoke on the other end. It was Arthur Sterling himself. “Keep the room warm,” I instructed, skipping the pleasantries. “Body temperature matters. And get me there fast.” The fresher the corpse, the better the harvest. And I hated touching cold bodies. I hung up, burned a piece of paper with Julian’s name on it—my standard ritual to sever ties with the previous client—and headed for the airstrip. Three hours later, I landed at the Sterling estate in the Hudson Valley. It looked less like a house and more like a fortress built of stone and money. Before I could even take in the architecture, a young man in a wheelchair rolled toward me, weeping into a silk handkerchief. “The men of the Sterling family are cursed,” he sobbed. He was dressed in a white suit, his eyes swollen. Despite the mess, he was strikingly handsome. “I’ve been paralyzed since childhood, unable to have children,” he explained. “Who knew Julian would go first? The Sterling line is broken…” This was Adrian Sterling, the older twin brother of the deceased. According to him, Julian, 28, had gone fishing early that morning to catch a prize bass for his brother. He slipped, hit his head, and drowned in the family’s private lake. “We need an heir, Ms. Darkwood. If you succeed, there will be a bonus on top of the fifty million.” “A bonus?” My ears perked up. “How much?” “Ten million more.” Perfect. My grandfather’s dilapidated sanctuary needed a new roof. I kept my face professional. “Mr. Sterling, for a client who cares so deeply about his family, I can offer a premium package. For an additional twenty million, I can guarantee a male heir. Twins, even.” Adrian paused. “Is that… possible?” “With my methods? Anything is possible,” I lied smoothly. Technically, it was a long shot, but I needed the cash. Adrian paid the $35 million deposit without blinking. I was satisfied. I burned a sigil with Julian’s birthdate by the lake where he died, signaling the start of the ritual. “Alright,” I said as the sun went down. “Take me to him.” 2 I was led to Julian’s bedroom. Arthur Sterling, the patriarch, was sitting by the bed, holding his dead son’s hand. He stood up as I entered. “Ms. Darkwood. I assume you understand the need for discretion. I’ll need your phone.” Standard procedure. Rich people hated evidence. “Fine,” I said. “But I have a condition.” “Name it.” “No cameras. No peeping toms. My methods are… proprietary. And ancient. Observing the ritual brings bad luck. Blood luck.” I made it sound spooky, but I just didn’t want anyone seeing my trade secrets. “The room is soundproofed and secluded. There are no cameras,” Arthur assured me. He lied. After they left, I swept the room with my detector. I found a lens hidden in the eye of a priceless collectible figurine on the shelf. Sneaky old fox. I placed a bottle of lotion in front of the figurine, blocking the view. Then, I lit thick, heavy incense and turned on my electronic jammer. The room filled with smoke. Now, I could work. I turned to the bed. Julian Sterling lay there, silent and still. Even pale and slightly bloated from the water, he was devastatingly handsome. I’d seen plenty of corpses, but Julian was a work of art. Broad chest, defined muscles—he clearly lived at the gym. As I began to undress him for the procedure, I couldn’t help but admire the goods. “Well, Your Highness,” I whispered to the body, keeping up the charade in case there were audio bugs. “Tonight, you belong to me. Let’s make some magic happen.” His skin was surprisingly warm. The Sterlings had done a good job preserving the temperature. I took out my kit of silver needles. “Great hair,” I muttered, inserting a needle into a pressure point on his scalp. “Better than the British royals, that’s for sure.” I worked my way down, inserting needles to unlock the post-mortem flow. “And look at these abs. Eight pack. A shame to waste them.” I reached the critical zone. “Impressive equipment, Your Highness. Your future wife would have been a happy woman.” I inserted seven needles to lock the lower meridians and began the specialized massage technique. Thirty minutes later, I prepped the extraction syringe. Nothing. I frowned. I massaged for another fifteen minutes. Tried again. Still nothing. Sweat beaded on my forehead. This had never happened before. I had a 100% success rate with sixteen corpses. I climbed onto the bed, straddling him to get better leverage, using both hands to adjust the needles and massage simultaneously. Suddenly, I froze. I felt something. A pulse. 3 I scrambled off the bed and grabbed my stethoscope. No heartbeat. So, he was dead. I let out a breath. But if he was dead, my technique should work. It only worked on the dead. Unless… I placed my hand on his chest again. The warmth, the elasticity of the skin… it wasn’t right for a body that had been dead for fourteen hours. I glanced at the heart monitor they had disconnected. The family doctor had declared him dead. Wait. I quickly pulled the silver needles from his body. I mixed a special compound of ash and herbs and smeared it on his back. Minutes later, a pattern of red markings appeared on his skin. The Lazarus Trance. It was my grandfather’s secret technique. A state of suspended animation so deep it mimicked death perfectly. Only three people alive knew it: my grandfather, me, and the “Chosen Successor” my grandfather always rambled about. Julian was the Successor? I grabbed my needles and pierced the release points to break the trance. Half an hour passed. He should be awake. But he wasn’t. The storm outside intensified. The room temperature dropped. Julian’s body started to cool rapidly. “Hey! Don’t you dare die on me!” I panicked. If he actually died while I was messing with him, I’d be the prime suspect. I cranked the heat, but he kept getting colder. Desperate, I climbed into bed and wrapped my body around his, trying to share my warmth. “Wake up, Julian! My grandfather is waiting for you!” I slapped his chest rhythmically, chanting the wake-up mantra. After what felt like hours, I heard a faint, raspy whisper near my ear. “Why… did you stop calling me ‘Your Highness’?” I froze. I looked down. Julian’s eyes were open, dark and amused. “You’re alive!” I scrambled back, trying to cover myself with the sheet. “I’ll call the family. They’ll be thrilled. This bonus is going to be huge—” He grabbed the hem of my red ceremonial robe. His grip was weak but firm. “Don’t,” he rasped. “They… they’re the ones who killed me.” I stopped dead. “What?” He pulled me closer, his voice barely a breath. “My brother… he thinks I caused his paralysis years ago. He pushed me into the lake. He wants me dead so he can marry Vanessa… my fiancée.” “Wait,” I whispered. “You couldn’t fight off a guy in a wheelchair?” “I didn’t want to fight him. He’s my brother. I would have given him anything. Even my life…” He coughed. “But I didn’t expect my father to be in on it.” I swallowed hard. “Your father?” “My father married into money. He killed my mother to seize the family fortune years ago. I found the evidence. I told him to turn himself in. He pretended to agree, then told Adrian to get rid of me.” “How do you know all this?” “Dead men hear everything,” Julian smirked bitterly. “They confessed everything to my ‘corpse’ while they were crying over me today.” He looked at me. “You know the technique. You’re from the Sanctuary?” We established our connection. He was indeed the Successor. 4 “Okay,” I said, fixing his pillow. “Since you’re family, I’ll get you out.” “How?” Julian looked hopeless. “They took your phone. The estate is a fortress. Sensors everywhere. A bird can’t fly in without them knowing.” “I have a jammer.” “There’s a camera right outside the window.” I grabbed my jammer, cranked it to max, and peeked through the curtain. The camera’s red light blinked erratically and died. “See?” WOOP-WOOP-WOOP! A siren wailed through the estate. Floodlights blinded me. Heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway. I scrambled back, dialing down the jammer. The footsteps stopped at the door. Okay, brute force escape was out. “Can we pretend your corpse needs to be moved? Like, for feng shui reasons?” I asked. “They want to bury me ASAP to hide the murder wounds,” Julian whispered. “They won’t let the body leave their sight.” I tapped my chin. “What about your fiancée? Vanessa. Is she trustworthy?” “Vanessa?” Julian’s eyes softened. “Yes. We grew up together. She loves me.” “Okay. You stay dead. I’ll handle the rest.” I handed him a specimen cup. “What’s this?” “I need a sample. To show them I’m doing my job.” He turned red. “Now?” “Yes, now. Chop chop.” The next morning, I walked out with my toolkit. Adrian was waiting in his wheelchair right outside the door. He hadn’t slept. “Well?” “Success,” I said, tapping the container. “Twins are a definite possibility.” Adrian’s eyes lit up.

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Jace hadn’t spoken to me in three days. Just as I was about to swallow my pride and apologize first, the school’s golden boy confessed his feelings to me. I instinctively looked at Jace. “Do you want me to say yes?” A friend nudged him. “You and Maya grew up together. Don’t say something you’ll regret just because you’re mad.” Jace sneered, looking utterly unimpressed. “She could strip naked in front of me and I wouldn’t feel a thing.” “She can date whoever she wants. I don’t care.” At the same time, a floating comment appeared in my vision: [LMAO, Jace, you look pathetic trying to act tough. Your knuckles are white from clenching your fists, but sure, you ‘don’t care.’] [Male lead is digging his own grave. His eyes panicked just now but he still has to run his mouth.] [Golden Boy, cover our girl’s ears! The male lead’s mouth needs to be sewn shut!] [Girl, just pick the Golden Boy. He saves your doodle-filled scratch paper like it’s treasure. If you beckoned, he’d crawl to you.] I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and looked at the blushing boy in front of me. I smiled. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.” Chapter 1 Jace was giving me the silent treatment again. I gathered a few friends to meet up with him, intending to make peace. After all, since we were kids, every time he got mad, I was the one to back down first. He showed up. But he wasn’t alone. Mia was with him. She was the scholarship student who transferred this semester. She was proud, aloof, and didn’t mesh well with most of the class. She especially looked down on me. She called me a “princess” who only knew how to act helpless and rely on men. Whenever I spoke, she’d cover her ears with a look of disgust. “Ugh, that voice. So fake.” But that was just my natural voice. I looked at Jace, opening my mouth to say something conciliatory. Mia stepped in front of me, chin raised, her voice sharp. “Maya, please control your boyfriend. Stop letting him show up around me. I have no interest in your little love drama. It’s a waste of my time.” I was confused. But my upbringing kicked in, and I politely explained, “You misunderstood. Jace isn’t my boyfriend yet.” She ignored me and continued aggressively. “Why do you have to come to my workplace and bother me?” “Do you rich people just get a kick out of humiliating us poor folks?” I was even more baffled. This coffee shop outside school was our usual spot for homework. I had no idea Mia worked here. There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face. She acted like our mere presence was an imposition. “It’s my first day, and you bring a whole crowd and order so much.” “Extra syrup, no syrup, oat milk, almond milk. Are you deliberately trying to make my life hard?” Even with my good temper, I was starting to get annoyed. “Ordering based on preference is normal, isn’t it? If you can’t handle it, you can find another job instead of lecturing the customers.” Jace looked at me, a flicker of impatience in his eyes. “Maya, apologize.” I froze, bewildered. My eyes stung. “What did I do wrong? Why should I apologize?” Chapter 2 This was the second time Jace had forced me to apologize to Mia. It was also the reason for our current cold war. Last week, our homeroom teacher held a meeting with the class officers. He mentioned that Mia’s family was struggling—her dad broke his leg and lost their only source of income. He suggested a secret donation drive, emphasizing that we should keep it quiet to protect her pride. As the academic chair, collecting the money fell to me. But when Jace came over to my house to study, he accidentally knocked over the notebook where I was recording the donations. And Mia just happened to see it. She stared at the amounts listed next to everyone’s names. Then she grabbed the notebook, tore it to shreds, and threw the pieces in my face. “Maya, I don’t need your charity!” “My family is poor, but I have dignity!” “Acting all high and mighty like this… it’s disgusting!” She was crying, but she held her head high, defiant. Like I was some unforgivable villain. Even though I had emptied my entire allowance and donated the most. The whole class looked at me, their silent gazes accusing me of hurting someone’s pride. My eyes turned red, and my hands trembled under my desk. I instinctively looked at Jace. I hoped he would say something. Anything. We had grown up together. He always hated seeing me treated unfairly. But this time, he stood next to Mia and frowned. “Maya, apologize.” I turned to leave in anger. He grabbed my wrist. “Be good. Just apologize and it’ll be over.” He gripped me tight, so tight my bones ached. Like he wouldn’t let me go unless I publicly atoned for my sins against Mia. I swallowed my grievance and pain, clenched my fists, and said my first “I’m sorry” to Mia. But she bit her lip and shook her head. “Maya, you’re not sincere. I don’t accept it.” My nose stung. I was on the verge of tears. Jace’s eyes darkened. “Maya, come on. Louder.” My nails dug into my palms. My heart ached terribly. I didn’t want to drag this out. I bowed deeply to Mia. “I am sorry. Is that enough?” Then I ran out of the classroom and took the rest of the day off. I cried my eyes out at home. When my mom asked, she comforted me, saying scholarship kids sometimes just had strong pride. I tried to rationalize it. I tried to convince myself that Jace just didn’t want things to escalate to the teacher and make it awkward for everyone. My friends tried to comfort me too. They said Jace kept staring at my empty seat. That he checked his phone eight hundred times a day, waiting for my text. That he was calling people at 3 AM asking what gifts girls liked, surely for me. They showed me photos. They told me to give him an out. So, that led to today’s attempt at reconciliation. Chapter 3 But here we were again. I hadn’t done anything wrong this time either. Yet he still wanted me to apologize. I suddenly started to doubt… did Jace actually care about me? “I don’t think I’m wrong.” “Jace, I won’t apologize.” Mia scoffed. “You look down on me, of course you won’t apologize.” “I won’t hold it against you. Because I’m different from you. I don’t have the luxury of being willful.” She loved doing this. Using these words to put us on trial. Amplifying her poverty and struggles to stand in opposition to us. But was it a sin that my parents gave me a comfortable life? “Mia,” I clenched my fists, my voice losing its softness. “Poverty isn’t an excuse for you to be unreasonable. I don’t owe you anything. This is your job. If you don’t want to do it, I can ask the manager to cancel the order, and we’ll go somewhere else.” Jace suddenly raised his voice. “Maya!” Mia huffed and walked away. I felt exhausted. The desire to make peace vanished. My friends looked at each other, awkward silence filling the air. Jace stared in Mia’s direction, lost in thought. A moment later, she came back with a tray to serve our drinks. Whether intentional or not, when she placed my cup down, she slammed it. Coffee splashed all over my white pants. I jumped up, grabbing napkins. She glanced at me lightly, muttered “High maintenance,” and turned to leave. I called her out. “Mia, apologize! You ruined my clothes.” She turned around. Jace, who had been silent, finally spoke. “Forget it. It’s just a pair of pants. It’s not necessary.” I looked at him in disbelief. “Not necessary?” Mia lifted her chin. “It’s my first day. You should know I might be clumsy. Why wear white to a coffee shop? Are you saying you’re blameless?” I was trembling with rage at her twisted logic. Jace frowned and pulled me down. “That’s enough. She’s working hard. Stop making a scene.” Me? Making a scene? Why was it that when it concerned her, I had to apologize? But when she messed up, my reasonable request became “making a scene”? I felt like I didn’t know Jace anymore. Seeing our standoff, Mia pulled a bracelet out of her pocket and slammed it on the table, looking at Jace. “I won’t accept your gift. You rich people are too much trouble. Please don’t give me random things in the future.” It was the exact same bracelet my friend had sent me a picture of. So the person he was buying a gift for at 3 AM wasn’t me. My heart sank, bit by bit. I looked up and met Jace’s eyes. He looked displeased. “Maya, can’t you be considerate of others?” “You’ve really been spoiled by everyone! You’ve become so mean!” Bitterness spread through me. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Everyone said Jace liked me, that we would end up together eventually. So bowing my head temporarily didn’t mean much. But if he liked me, why was it never him bowing to me? Why did simply wanting fair treatment make me “mean” in his eyes? Just as my emotions were about to explode… The coffee shop door opened. A familiar figure walked slowly toward me. It was Liam, the school’s Golden Boy and top student. In front of everyone, he handed me a letter. He said he liked me and hoped I would consider being his girlfriend. The air went still. Jace whipped his head around to find my eyes, his face turning pale. Chapter 4 It was too sudden. I instinctively asked Jace, “Do you want me to say yes?” I don’t know why that question triggered him again. His expression shifted instantly, becoming cold as ice. My friends started whispering urgently. “Maya, are you kidding? You and Jace have been close since forever. How could you be with someone else?” “Yeah, you like him so much. Just apologize and you guys will make up.” “He’s just stubborn. He’s soft on the inside, you know that.” I stayed silent. I stared stubbornly at Jace. A friend nudged his shoulder. “You and Maya grew up together. Don’t say something you’ll regret just because you’re mad.” Jace sneered, looking utterly unimpressed. “She could strip naked in front of me and I wouldn’t feel a thing.” “She can date whoever she wants. I don’t care.” At the same time, the floating comments appeared: [LMAO, Jace, you look pathetic trying to act tough. Your knuckles are white from clenching your fists, but sure, you ‘don’t care.’] [Male lead is digging his own grave. His eyes panicked just now but he still has to run his mouth.] [Jace only bought the bracelet to apologize to Mia on Maya’s behalf! He doesn’t like her!] [Male lead, speak up! What is your mouth for? You’re gonna be groveling later.] [Golden Boy, cover our girl’s ears! The male lead’s mouth needs to be sewn shut!] [Girl, just pick the Golden Boy. He saves your doodle-filled scratch paper like it’s treasure. If you beckoned, he’d crawl to you.] [I’m a college student, and I support the female lead getting with the Golden Boy.] The sudden text floating in the air confused me. The “male lead” they were talking about was Jace? And Liam… liked me? How could he like me? He sat next to me in class, but I once overheard him telling someone I was “high maintenance” and my voice was annoying. That I looked like a “pick-me” girl. [That’s just jealousy! He’s jealous you follow Jace around and never look at him.] [Yeah, he’s basically crawling on the floor in envy. He pretends to sleep during breaks just to smell your hair.] [Tsk tsk, this creepy shadowy vibe. Love it.] Really? My thoughts slowly returned to reality. But then I heard Jace speak again. “Come on, Maya. Stop playing these games.” “Dragging the Golden Boy into your little drama? Did you pay him?” “What, you didn’t come to me for a few days so you went to seduce him instead?” [Oh no, oh no. Male lead regretted it the second he said it. His hands are shaking but he’s trying to look cool.] [Baby girl, just comfort Jace. He looks like he’s about to shatter.] [Yeah, you came here to make peace anyway. Why make everyone awkward?] [Honestly, the female lead is kinda dramatic sometimes.] [Right? If she just went to him that night, they would’ve made up. But she waited three days. The guy couldn’t sleep waiting for her text. He loves her so much, okay?] [I’m Team Childhood Friend. Don’t let the new guy win! Baby girl, do it for me. Reject the Golden Boy and go hug Jace.]

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When I found out about Kelly’s affair, we were both surprisingly calm. She shielded the young man behind her, her voice a flat monotone. “Don’t blame him. It was all me. I couldn’t control myself. He’s innocent.” I nodded, feigning understanding. That night, Kelly came home and handed me a set of divorce papers. “I’ve made concessions financially. Take a look. If there are no issues, just sign.” I tossed the papers into the trash. “Don’t worry,” I said, my tone magnanimous. “I’m not going to make a scene and demand a divorce over something so trivial.” It was just an affair. In this age of fast-food romance, who hasn’t faced a little temptation? I hadn’t exactly been a saint myself. How could I blame her? 1 Kelly froze, a cigarette halfway to her lips. She looked up, her eyes narrowed. I knew what she was thinking. I used to be the jealous type, the kind who couldn’t tolerate a single grain of sand in his eye. Kelly had always been a magnet for men. Even in the early, passionate days of our relationship, when she was trying her best to be faithful, there were always shameless guys who threw themselves at her. I used to pick fights with her about it constantly. But over the years, maybe the passion had faded. Or maybe I was just getting older, too tired to argue. Our marriage had become a stagnant pond, utterly still. When life gets that dull, a little excitement is inevitable. “Kelly, we’ve known each other for twenty years. We’ve been married for almost ten. The company is thriving, and our parents get along.” “Do you have any idea what a divorce would mean for us?” It would mean dividing our assets, and the company’s stock would take a hit. It would mean upheaval for both our families. Our parents were old, with pre-existing health conditions. The shock could be too much for them. Kelly was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, “I’m just trying to respect you.” “And your idea of respecting me is to find a lover and cheat on me?” She frowned. “He’s not a lover! I told you, I’m the shameless one. He knew I was married. He tried to reject me.” “I get it. You don’t have to explain. Matters of the heart are hard to control with logic.” I decided to lay all my cards on the table. “You’re just afraid I’ll use my position as your husband to hurt him, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I might not have many virtues, but I am generous.” She studied me, her eyes searching for a crack in my facade. “You really don’t mind?” “I wouldn’t say I don’t mind at all. But you two are in love.” I sighed dramatically. “True love is a rare thing these days. I have nothing but respect and well wishes for it.” 2 My performance didn’t completely convince her, but she knew the facts I’d laid out were undeniable. So, she agreed to reconsider the divorce. For the next few days, she came home from work on time. When her phone rang, she would glance at me and decline the call. “Was that him?” I asked, my voice dripping with magnanimity. “You should answer. Don’t make him sad. You can’t give him a proper title; the least you can do is not make him suffer in other ways.” She gritted her teeth, stood up, and disappeared into her study, closing the door firmly behind her. The closed door was like her heart—it hadn’t been open to me for a long, long time. I understood her, really. People are tolerant of those they love deeply, and of those they don’t love at all. It’s the ones they used to love, the ones they’ve fallen out of love with, that they treat with the most cruelty. She must despise me now. The very act of breathing the same air as me was probably torture for her. And yet, she forced herself to come home every night, to play this game with me, all because she was afraid of what I might do to her lover. Poor thing. That night, as usual, I slept alone. I couldn’t remember the last time Kelly and I had been intimate. In the beginning, I used to try to seduce her, but she always claimed she was too tired. But a woman’s libido doesn’t just die. I knew she wasn’t tired. She was just… satisfied by someone else. And I was a man with needs. So, I had found a clean, uncomplicated woman to fill the void. Before bed, a message popped up on my phone. [When are you getting a divorce?] [I told you, I don’t do married men! If you don’t divorce her, we’re done!] I thought of her perfect breasts and long legs and licked my lips with a pang of regret. A divorce was out of the question. But she sounded so resolute. I couldn’t force her. So, with a sigh, I deleted her contact. Oh well. Plenty of other fish in the sea. Bye-bye, baby. The next one will be even better. 3 Monday was the quarterly shareholders’ meeting. I hadn’t been to the office regularly since I’d gotten sick from overworking a couple of years ago. I’d been recuperating at home, living comfortably off the dividends. But I always made a point to attend the shareholders’ meetings. There were a few new faces since my last visit. My eyes immediately landed on a young man in the corner, tasked with taking the minutes. When he saw me, his eyes darted around nervously before he lowered his head, trying to make himself invisible. I felt no animosity toward him, just a flicker of pity. He was the first man Kelly had ever brought before me. But he wasn’t the first man she had cheated on me with. Kelly was a professional. She kept her work life and her private life separate. She never brought her other lovers to the company. The way she defended him, the protective instinct in her voice… this time, it seemed, it really was true love. At ten o’clock sharp, Kelly entered the conference room but didn’t start the meeting. A few moments later, the door opened again, and a woman in a charcoal gray suit strode in. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said, her tone devoid of any actual apology. She took a seat next to Kelly. She seemed to feel my gaze on her and met my eyes with a cool, indifferent stare before looking away. I let out a soft “tsk.” That woman had a poker face that could rival a statue’s. Especially in bed. The more turned on she got, the colder her expression became. But I guess I had a bit of a masochistic streak. The colder she was, the more excited I got. “Mr. Collins, who is that?” the shareholder next to me whispered. “That’s Amelia Vance, our angel investor,” I explained quietly. “The company wouldn’t exist without her initial investment.” “But I’ve never seen her at a meeting before.” “She has a lot of assets. We send her an invitation every quarter, but she’s always declined.” “So why is she here today?” I smiled and shook my head. “I have no idea. Maybe she was bored.” 4 The meeting ended around noon. I decided to stay and have lunch with Kelly. As I was washing my hands in the restroom, Kelly’s lover walked in. He saw me and instinctively turned to flee. But after a moment’s hesitation, he shuffled over, his head bowed, and mumbled, “Mr. Collins.” I took my time washing my hands, drying them meticulously under the hand dryer. He stood there, waiting for a response that never came, and his shoulders started to shake. Tears welled up in his eyes. He looked so pathetic. “Mr. Collins, I really didn’t mean to destroy your marriage. I… I didn’t know she was married at first…” he stammered, his voice choked with sobs. “I tried to leave her, but… but…” “But you love her too much,” I finished for him, a sympathetic tone in my voice. I took out a handkerchief, gently lifted his chin, and dabbed at his tears. “The thought of leaving her was like a knife in your heart.” “So, you continued the affair. And then she brought you into the company, so you could be with her every day. Am I right?” I had stolen all his lines. He just stared at me, forgetting to cry. “Is there something you want to say to me?” I asked. The company was huge. If he had really wanted to avoid me, it would have been easy. His intentions were so transparent. He was so weak, so fragile, that I almost found him endearing. “Mr. Collins, you’re so successful, so handsome, so rich. So… so… could you please… divorce her…?” he finally whispered, knowing he had no right to ask. The tears started again. “I have no other choice. I… I love her so much…” “Call me shameless, call me despicable, I don’t care! I’ll do anything for our happiness!” I smiled and nodded. “I understand. You can stop crying now.” “Thank you for your generosity,” he said, and started to kneel. But he stopped when he realized I wasn’t going to stop him, his knees hovering awkwardly in mid-air. I glanced at my watch. No wonder I was hungry. “Kelly and I will discuss the divorce,” I said, patting his shoulder as I walked past him. Kelly’s office was spacious. When I entered, she was chatting with Amelia. Seeing me, Kelly smiled. “Perfect timing. Amelia, it’s been a while since you’ve seen Ethan, right? Why don’t we all have lunch together?” It hadn’t been that long. We’d just slept together last week. Amelia glanced at me and gave a slight nod. “It has been a while. I was actually going to message you both last night to arrange lunch today, but it seems Ethan deleted me?” “That’s impossible,” Kelly said, grabbing my phone and scrolling through my contacts. Her smile faltered when she couldn’t find Amelia’s name. “He must have deleted you by accident,” she explained quickly. “Ethan never deletes people.” “It’s fine. We can just add each other again.” Amelia held out her phone with a QR code, watching as Kelly scanned it and sent a friend request. I rolled my eyes. Who was it that swore last night we should never contact each other again? 5 Just as we were about to leave, Kelly’s lover knocked on the door, looking pale and unwell. He wanted to take the rest of the day off. Technically, he should have gone to his direct supervisor. But he was the apple of Kelly’s eye. So, naturally, Kelly stayed behind to tend to him, and I ended up going to lunch with Amelia alone. As we were leaving, Kelly reminded me to get on Amelia’s good side, especially after the “accidental” deletion. They had been best friends in college. Amelia’s generous investment was the reason Kelly’s company had even gotten off the ground. But people change, and their positions in life were different now. Things were more complicated. To show the sincerity of my apology, the moment we got in the car, I let Amelia tie my hands with her silk tie. Her expression was cold as she gripped my wrists, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh. “So ruthless,” she hissed, her voice like ice. “Deleting me just like that. You come and go as you please. What am I to you? A dog?” The car windows were tinted, but we were still in the company parking lot. The familiar surroundings sent a thrill of forbidden excitement through me. “You love her that much? You know she’s been cheating on you for years, but you still won’t divorce her?” She climbed onto my lap, her fingers digging into my jaw, forcing me to look out the window. Kelly was gently guiding her lover out of the elevator, her face etched with concern. They were probably on their way to the hospital. “Tell me,” Amelia whispered, her breath hot against my ear, “what do you think would happen if I rolled down the window right now and said hello?” 6 I was gasping for air. Amelia was not a gentle lover. Especially in bed. I knew that the more I begged for mercy, the more frenzied she would become. So, instead, I reached over and pressed the button to lower the window, leaning out to wave at Kelly. Kelly, sensing something, turned and looked our way. But the window was already closed again. “What’s wrong?” her lover asked, snuggling closer to her. He followed her gaze. Kelly shook her head, and they got into their car. What a shame. Amelia was driving her new Rolls-Royce today. Kelly had never seen it before. Otherwise, she might have recognized the car and suspected something. I remembered the pictures Amelia had sent me of the car’s interior. She had said it was spacious. Perfect for… this. And she was right. When it was over, I was curled up in the back seat, exhausted. Amelia’s blouse was unbuttoned, her body still flushed with the afterglow of sex. A smug, satisfied look was on her face. “No matter how hard you fight it, this marriage won’t last much longer,” she said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know how serious Kelly is about him this time.” Of course, I knew. Because the last man Kelly had loved this deeply was me. “It doesn’t matter. The worst she can do is sue for divorce.” I let out a low chuckle. “But I have all the time in the world. I can wait her out.” “Ethan, I don’t understand you,” Amelia said, her brow furrowed. “What’s the point of holding onto a loveless marriage with a woman who doesn’t want you?” “There is no point. But does everything in life have to have a point?” “Besides, even if I divorce her, I’m not going to marry you. So, what’s the point of you pushing for this divorce?” Her lips tightened, her eyes darkening. She was angry. I knew it. I sighed. “You enjoy the thrill of an affair, but you also want the legitimacy of a title.” “You can’t have it all, Amelia.” 7 That night, Kelly didn’t come home. I expected as much. So, under the guise of comforting me, Amelia let herself into my house. And then, at the peak of my ecstasy, as my body trembled uncontrollably, she picked up her phone and called Kelly. “Amelia? What’s wrong?” It was the middle of the night. Kelly’s voice was hoarse, laced with sleep. “I heard from Ethan that you want a divorce,” Amelia said, her voice impossibly calm, betraying nothing of the high-intensity workout she was currently engaged in. I bit my lip, hard, but a small, choked sob escaped. Kelly heard it. “Are you two together right now?” “Yes.” Amelia looked down at me, her fingers gently brushing through my sweat-drenched hair, her gaze lingering on my flushed face. “He’s crying.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “It’s my fault,” Kelly finally said. “So, you’re really going through with the divorce?” “I have no choice.” I heard the flick of a lighter. Kelly’s voice was heavy with sorrow. “I’ve already hurt Ethan. I can’t hurt another man.” “He loves me so much. I have to be responsible for him.” “But Ethan doesn’t want a divorce. He still loves you,” Amelia said, and I could feel the jealousy in her words, a sharp, bitter edge that she took out on my body. “I’ll find a time to talk to him properly.” After she hung up, Amelia’s questions were relentless. “Did you hear that? She doesn’t love you anymore!” “Divorce her!” “No…” “I’m asking you one last time. Are you going to divorce her?” I gripped the bedsheets, my voice a strained whisper. “No!” Why should I? Why should I make it easy for them? Why should I give up my stable, comfortable life? Ethan Collins will be a widower, but he will never be a divorcee.

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I am a hitman. During a mission, my partner—my ride-or-die—shot me in the head. Over my corpse, he whispered, “I’m sorry. The target is my wife. To protect her, I had to kill you.” My soul was utterly speechless. Bro, do you not have a mouth? If it’s your wife, couldn’t you just say so? We could have just skipped the job! Was it necessary to blow my brains out?! When I opened my eyes again, I was back three minutes before the shot. 1 It was a sunny morning. My partner and I were prone on a secluded rooftop, butts in the air, staring intently at a black sedan parked in front of the hospital across the street. Inside sat our target. Moments later, the car door opened. A slender, pale leg extended out, stepping onto the pavement with delicate grace. The moment her foot touched the ground, I sprang up and shouted, “Hey! Isn’t that your wife?” Startled, my partner flinched, nearly misfiring. He turned his head, his eyes screaming interrogation: She only showed half a leg! Which eye told you that’s my wife? I smiled but said nothing. Damn it, if I didn’t yell fast enough, what if you popped me again? I turned back. The woman had exited the car. Soft, curly hair framing gentle, beautiful features. A breathtaking beauty. My partner stared at his wife, his face melting into happiness. But before we could say hello, a refined-looking man got out of the car. The man hugged the wife, tenderly stroking her belly. They looked like the perfect couple, radiating the glow of expectant parents. My greeting stuck in my throat. I didn’t dare make a sound. But my partner was different. Not only did he dare to speak, he dared to shoot. Bang! He fired. The bullet hit the man right between the eyes. Bodyguards spotted us instantly and swarmed. My partner gazed at his screaming wife from afar, gave a tragic smile, and turned the gun on himself. Bang! He ate the bullet. He killed a guy, exposed our position, and then left me behind to commit suicide!!! The bodyguards arrived fast. Their batons hurt like hell. Before I was beaten to death, my only thought was: Never team up with an idiot. Fuck! 2 Yes, I respawned again. Same sunny morning, same rooftop corner, same black car. Practice makes perfect. This time, I got smart. The moment the wife stepped out, I leaped up. “Whoa! Isn’t that your wife?” “Whoa! Is your wife pregnant?” “Whoa! Does your wife have a… brother?” I worded it carefully. “Brother” could be a real brother, a cousin, a neighbor, or a sugar daddy. We’re adults; no need to be too specific. Before my partner could react, I dragged him downstairs and sprinted to the wife. The wife panicked. The refined man panicked too. The man forced himself to be calm, extending a hand. “Hello, I’m… Mr. King. I’m Lily’s… cousin.” I sighed internally. An honest man. These days, few people admit to being the ‘neighbor Mr. King’. My partner shook his hand, then turned to his wife. “Why are you at the hospital?” The wife instinctively covered her lower abdomen. “I… I’m pregnant…” She glanced at Cousin King. Cousin King reached out, shielding her. “Lily didn’t want to disturb your work, so she asked me to accompany her for the checkup.” My idiot partner bought it completely, his face lighting up with ecstasy. “Really? Lily, we’re having a baby!” I stood there counting on my fingers. “Mrs. Partner, how far along?” Her face paled. “Two… two months.” Great. Three months ago, my partner and I took a job overseas. We just got back today. He hasn’t even stepped through his front door, and he’s celebrating a two-month pregnancy. Could I say anything? No! Say it, and I eat a bullet! I patted my partner. “Old Xie, being a dad is great news. Smile!” He grinned like a blooming flower. After laughing enough, he remembered business. He asked his wife, “Did you offend anyone recently?” After all, we’re pros. Our jobs involve blood. Even if my partner is an idiot, anyone hiring us has a serious grudge. The wife looked confused. My partner understood. He turned to Mr. King. “Then they’re after you. Don’t worry, Cousin. With me here, no one will touch a hair on your head!” Me: Emmmmm… Great. I wanted to applaud. I wanted to sing. But before I could clap, a gunshot rang out. Pain exploded in my back. Strength drained from my body instantly. Before I hit the ground, I saw our Boss in the corner. He was wiping his gun, face twisted in rage. “I hate it when employees slack off!” 3 Do the job, get killed by partner. Don’t do the job, get killed by Boss. What to do? Respawning again, I threw my gear on the ground and went berserk. “Fuck this stupid mission! I quit!” Under my partner’s confused gaze, I leaped down the building, found the Boss’s hiding spot, dragged him out, and started kicking him. “No health insurance! Peeping on us! Shooting me! Everyone pointing guns at me! I died three times today, you know? I need a raise, you hear me?!” The Boss dodged clumsily. “Raise my ass! Health insurance? If I paid it, would you dare take it? You want to go to jail faster…” My partner came to break it up. I slapped both of them. “Break it up? Break your mom! We’re life-and-death partners, remember? You call the guy cucking you ‘brother’ and sacrifice your sworn brother?” Just then, the black car stopped. The wife got out and saw the three of us brawling. She screamed, panic all over her face. Seeing her, my anger, which had just subsided, flared up three stories high! I snapped! Why do I have to meet this woman while I’m working? Can’t you just be a normal wife? Why do you need a side piece? Fine, have a side piece, but why let my idiot partner see it?! I died three times today, and two and a half were thanks to you!!! I’d had enough! I dragged Mr. King out of the car and pointed at his nose. “Cousin? You’re probably the baby daddy!” “Is the wife’s belly your work?” “Is the green hat on my partner’s head your gift?” Mr. King’s eyes dodged. He awkwardly admitted, “How… how did you know?” He shielded the wife. “Blame me if you must. I couldn’t control my feelings…” My partner looked like he’d been struck by lightning. The wife broke down. She covered her face, crying softly. “I’m sorry. I just made a mistake that all women make.” “I love you so much, but I love him too. I didn’t know how to choose…” Oh, so you just hit “Select All”? Her eyes were swollen from crying. Mr. King looked heartbroken. He supported her and said resolutely to my partner, “If you have anger, take it out on me. Lily is innocent!” My partner ignored him. He just stared at his wife and whispered, “Lily, do you really love him?” The wife looked up with teary eyes, tragic and beautiful. “Yes, I love him. But I love you too.” She asked, “Are you willing to forgive me?” My partner froze for a moment, pushed Mr. King aside, and pulled his wife into his arms. “How could I blame you? As long as you come back…” I was dumbfounded. My god, my idiot partner is a legendary simp. Sorry I yelled earlier. You are now the person I respect most! I looked at the sky. I should be able to survive this shift now. But before I could leave, familiar pain hit my back. 4 I thought I died again. As everyone knows, dying a lot makes you desensitized. So I habitually fell to the ground. After a while, a college kid leaned over fearfully. “I just threw a pebble at you. Are you dying?” I lay there, not wanting to get up. “Who are you?” The kid whispered, “I’m the client for this mission. I want to cancel. Can I?” Before I could nod, I heard my cheapskate Boss roaring: “Brian! The mission was to kill your ex-boyfriend! You’re dating men behind my back???” I was confused. What does the client’s dating life have to do with you? Boss, you manage too much. Surprisingly, the kid gasped, “Dad?” He looked at me, looked at his dad, thought about the hit he ordered, and was shocked. “Dad, didn’t you say you were in waste recycling?” “Do you know I’m applying for a government job?” “I passed the written and interview stages, but failed the background check. I thought it was rigged.” “With your background, passing would be a miracle!!” The Boss was furious. “You have the nerve to lecture me? You always said you were straight! Since when do straight guys date men?” “I knew it!! I found stockings in your room and you said they were your partner’s! I thought you had a cute girlfriend! Turns out it’s a six-foot cute girlfriend with a mustache!” “Tell me the truth, who’s the top?” Brian stammered, “I am…” “Bullshit!” The Boss spat. “You think I don’t know anything? In manga, tops have square jaws! Your chin is sharp enough to plow a field!!” I listened with a headache. What is happening? Brian covered his face, his slim frame trembling in the wind like a little white flower. He sobbed, “Dad, sorry for lying, but I really love him!” The Boss raged, “Damn it, he cheated on you and you’re still obsessed! How did I raise such a love-brain!” He looked at the refined Mr. King nearby, murderous aura exploding. “It’s all this scumbag! Cheated my son, and cheated my employee’s wife! Today I’ll do charity work and pop this promiscuous man!” The Boss pulled his gun and fired wildly at Mr. King. The wife screamed. My partner hugged her and dodged. I stood aside, admiring the chaos, even wanting a cigarette. Great, just great. You all killed me at least once. Now taste some lead yourselves!

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