Category: English

I lived my entire life as my older sister’s shadow. I endured my parents’ emotional abuse and brutal school bullying. If it had been my sister getting bullied, my parents would have believed her without hesitation and fought for her like lions. But none of it matters now. In my next life, I’m going to choose parents who actually love me… 1 After writing that final sentence, I felt absolutely no regret as I jumped from the sixth floor. Smash! It hurt so much. Floating in mid-air, I looked down at my own body lying in a hospital bed. I was covered in tubes. My heart monitor beeped weakly. My face was as white as a sheet. My parents stood by the bed, looking exhausted. My mother immediately started complaining. “I just scolded her a little, and she goes and jumps off a building! Did I say anything wrong? She’ll never compare to Chloe.” She was right. I could never measure up to my older sister, Chloe. Even when I tried to die, I couldn’t do it cleanly, wasting medical resources. My father shushed her, keeping his voice low. “Enough, stop talking. Look at the state she’s in. Is this really the time to complain? We already lost Chloe. Are we going to lose Mia too?! We’re getting old. Having another child is nearly impossible. You don’t want to end up with no one to take care of you when you’re elderly, do you?” So that’s all I was. A replacement and an insurance policy for their old age. They never believed anything I said. And they didn’t even care why I jumped. In that case, I just wanted to die quickly. I watched them get called into the doctor’s office. I drifted after them. The doctor looked incredibly grim. “Professor Sterling, the patient’s condition is extremely critical. She has suffered massive internal trauma, and her will to live is practically non-existent. You need to find something to stimulate her—talk to her, remind her of good memories. If this continues, she’s not going to make it.” They nodded frantically and hurried home. When they returned, they were carrying several of my old diaries. 2 My mother impatiently flipped open a diary from my elementary school years and began reading aloud. June 1st, 2010 My name is Mia Sterling. My aunts told me that before my older sister, Chloe, died, her last words were: “I want to be Mommy’s child again in my next life.” And because of that, I was born. Aside from the beauty mark under my eye, I was completely different from my sister. Chloe loved pink. I loved blue. But to honor my dead sister, and in the desperate hope that my parents might love me a little more, I silently wore nothing but pink clothes. Even if the love they gave me was actually meant for Chloe, I was still happy. Because Mommy and Daddy were all I had. Until today, Children’s Day. My desk-mate Lily had this beautiful blue dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Lily saw how much I loved it, and offered to trade outfits with me for a little while after the school talent show. I didn’t dare wear it outside. I hid in the bathroom stalls to try it on. Lily told me I looked so pretty, and that blue was my color. She said she wanted to take a few pictures of me. Just as I posed for the camera, my mother burst in. When she saw the dress, she lost her mind. She violently ripped the dress off my body, then slapped me across the face, over and over, screaming curses at me. It hurt so much, and I felt so humiliated. I cried hysterically. Lily jumped in front of me, trying to stop my mother from hitting me. But my mother, completely blind with rage, beat her too. She hit Lily so hard her ear started bleeding. When Lily’s mother found out, she came to our house demanding an explanation. But my mother just screamed back, “Your daughter deserved to be hit! Who told her to swap clothes with my daughter?! And she tried to stop me from disciplining my own child! Sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong! If she hadn’t gotten in my way, do you think I would have touched her?! My daughter is forbidden to wear blue!” After that, Lily never spoke to me again. The beating left her partially deaf in one ear. I lost the only real friend I had. When the other kids in my class found out what happened, they avoided me like the plague. My father sighed heavily after hearing that. My mother stubbornly defended herself. “Whenever I see the color blue, all I can think about is the day Chloe died in that car crash. She was wearing blue! Our precious Chloe was only seventeen. She hadn’t even lived her life yet, and she was taken from us. The color blue terrifies me!” Terrified of blue? What a joke. It was just because my sister didn’t like blue. But even though I wore the same colors as her… I was still never as smart as my sister. 3 The next day, it was my father’s turn to read. April 25th, 2010 We got our math tests back today. I only scored an 87. My teacher looked at me with deep disappointment and sighed, “If this were Chloe, she definitely would have gotten a perfect score.” But I really did try my best. After school, I was terrified to go home. If I didn’t get a 100, I wasn’t allowed to eat dinner, and I would be beaten. I wandered the streets, hoping to delay going back until it was completely dark. Suddenly, a strange man started talking to me. I ignored him. My teachers always said never to talk to strangers. When I kept ignoring him, he got angry. He grabbed me, picked me up, and started carrying me toward a dark alley. I was terrified. I screamed and thrashed as hard as I could. Suddenly, an older boy yelled at him, “Where are you taking my sister?! If you don’t put her down right now, I’m calling my dad!” The boy pointed toward a random man walking down the street. The stranger panicked, dropped me, and ran away. The boy told me not to be scared. He asked why I wasn’t going home even though it was getting dark. I ended up telling him everything. He comforted me. “You did a great job on your test! Your parents must be so worried about you since you’re out this late. Even if they prefer your older sister, it’s impossible that they don’t love you at all. Maybe they just don’t know how to show it. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you home.” Hearing his words gave me hope. He was right—how could they not love me at all? The boy walked me to my front door. I felt anxious, but also hopeful. 4 The moment I walked in, I saw my mother standing there. When she saw I had been brought home, she looked panicked and pulled me into a tight hug. “Mia! Where have you been? Mommy was worried sick!” Was I dreaming? My mother actually worried about me. The boy was right—she did love me! Tears welled up in my eyes. Her hug felt so warm. “This boy walked me home.” As I told her what happened, her expression shifted between fear and anger. But whenever she looked at me, her eyes were full of love! My mother thanked the boy profusely, and he left. I gently closed the front door and turned around. My mother’s face was completely dark. The hopeful light in my eyes instantly died. Because in her hand, she was holding the wooden ruler. She yanked me toward her by the arm and ripped my test paper out of my backpack. When she saw the score, pure rage twisted her face. She grabbed me by the ear and screamed: “Eighty-seven! How many times have I told you?! You need to get a hundred! A hundred! You worthless piece of trash! What is wrong with your brain that you can’t even get a perfect score?! Is it really that hard?! When are you going to be like your sister?! You’re nothing like my child!” It was all fake. It was all a lie. She only hugged me to put on a show for the boy. She didn’t love me at all. The wooden ruler came down on me, each strike harder than the last. My screams and crying were so loud that our neighbor came over and knocked on the door, demanding to know what was going on. I thought my mother would finally stop. But after she dismissed the neighbor, the beating continued. My instinct to cry and dodge only made her hit me harder. “Shut up, you little brat! Stop crying! Do you want the whole building to know I’m hitting you?! Do you think crying is going to make me stop?!” She bound my hands and feet and slapped a piece of duct tape over my mouth. She swapped the wooden ruler for a bamboo cane. Thwack after thwack. The agonizing pain made me writhe on the floor like a maggot. She didn’t stop until she was completely exhausted and my nose was bleeding heavily. Cursing me, she finally untied my hands. I limped to my room and curled up in the corner, licking my wounds like a stray animal. My tears mixed with the blood from my nose. My entire body felt like it was on fire, covered in angry red welts. I hugged my knees and stared blankly at the floor. I’m so stupid. Maybe I really wasn’t her child. That’s why I couldn’t get a perfect score, and why she didn’t love me and hit me so viciously. Yes, that had to be it. How could a mother in this world not love her own child? If she loved me, she wouldn’t treat me like this. Where was my real mother? When was she going to come find me? 5 My father finished reading and fell silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke: “Even though Mia isn’t as smart as Chloe, you promised me you wouldn’t hit her anymore! When the neighbor asked me about it, I had to spend an hour making excuses! We are highly educated academics! Do you know how humiliating it is for people to think we beat our kids?!” Humiliating. How laughable. Is his pride more important than his own daughter? My mother scoffed coldly, her tone entirely justified: “I hit her for her own good! Spare the rod, spoil the child! What parent hasn’t disciplined their kids? Chloe got perfect scores, so she had to get perfect scores too! That’s the only way she can be like Chloe. Besides, her grades went up after I hit her, didn’t they?! And after that incident, I never laid a hand on her again!” Never laid a hand on me again? She hit me so often she probably lost count. 6 My father didn’t argue. He essentially agreed with her. It was true. I wasn’t as exceptional as my sister. I couldn’t bring him glory or prestige. No one ever complimented him anymore, saying, “As expected of a Professor, you raised such a brilliant daughter!” Whenever his colleagues or friends met me, they would shake their heads and sigh with pity. “It’s such a tragedy about Chloe. What a brilliant, outstanding girl!” “Mia just doesn’t have her sister’s spark. Such a shame.” “Chloe got a full ride to Princeton. She had so much potential, and she was so beautiful.” I began to grow curious about my sister’s legendary legacy. I tried to piece together an image of her from the fragmented comments of the adults around me. That curiosity only grew stronger. I desperately wanted to go into her bedroom to see for myself. But my mother forbade anyone from entering Chloe’s room. She cleaned it personally every single week. Curiosity killed the cat. One afternoon, driven by some inexplicable urge, I sneaked into that room. 7 My father’s throat was dry from reading. He chugged a glass of water and tossed the diary to my mother. She flipped casually to a page and started reading. September 27th, 2013 My mother forgot to lock my sister’s room today. I finally got the chance to go inside. My sister’s room was pink, just like mine. The room was immaculate. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the desk. In the corner, there was a beautiful ballet tutu displayed on a mannequin. The largest wall was completely covered in academic awards and certificates. Her desk was crowded with trophies of all sizes and stacks of honors. My sister was so amazing. I hadn’t earned even a fraction of the honors she had in her entire life. There were also many carefully framed photos on her desk. Photos of my sister alone, photos of her and my mother, photos of her and my father, and photos of the three of them together. Their smiles were so bright and radiant. They had never smiled at me like that. I didn’t have any solo portraits displayed in the house, and I definitely didn’t have any family photos like that. Suddenly, my mother came home. She caught me in my sister’s room.

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When I finally got pregnant and was preparing to dump the father and keep the baby, I accidentally discovered my boyfriend was the heir to a massive corporate empire. I patted the one-million-dollar check in my pocket, ready to toss it at him as a breakup fee, and then caught a glimpse of the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist that I had always assumed was a fake. God damn it, he’s actually filthy rich! Terrified he would fight me for custody, I hid my pregnancy and skipped town overnight. [I’m tired of paying for your life! We’re done, you broke loser!] Two days later, I was dropping serious cash in a high-end maternity boutique. Suddenly, someone yanked the hood of my sweatshirt backward. “Baby, care to explain why you’re stocking up on prenatal vitamins?” 1 My family owned a plot of land out in the suburbs. After three generations of hard work, my grandfather had built a massive, sprawling farmhouse on it. It wasn’t pretty. It was just big. So big I could literally ride a Razor scooter laps around the living room. Even though the house was huge, it wasn’t worth much. Because everything surrounding it was just farmland and dirt roads. Until one day, the city council rezoned our area for a massive new sports stadium complex. My childhood home, that big, ugly farmhouse… was demolished. A bright red circle with an ‘X’ was spray-painted on our exterior wall, and the warm home I grew up in vanished. It transformed into a freezing, hard sixty million dollars sitting in our bank account. With a heavy heart, I walked away from my home without looking back, officially becoming a newly minted member of the nouveau riche. 2 I’m an only child. My parents’ expectations for me were incredibly low: just be happy and stay alive. When we were poor, my parents were extremely relaxed about the concept of marriage. “Luna, sweetie, if you find someone you like, get married. If not, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we have a throne to pass down. As long as you’re happy.” Once we became millionaires overnight, their tune changed drastically. “Luna Sterling. You don’t have to get married, but you absolutely must have a child. We actually do have a throne to pass down now.” Look at that. They even started using my full legal name. They were getting formal. I completely agreed with their logic and began my hunt for an outstanding specimen of a man. As everyone knows, truly excellent men rarely circulate on the open market. After five rounds of blind dates, the guys were either gold-diggers drooling over my family’s new fortune, or arrogant heirs from established corporate families who looked down on my “new money” status but still wanted to bleed me dry. Summary: Not a single usable candidate. I gave up on blind dating entirely and decided to source my own material. I looked high and low until my sights landed on an exclusive, high-end private club downtown. I paid a hefty premium just to get my hands on a membership card. Rumor had it their male hosts were top-tier gorgeous, and they strictly sold companionship, not their bodies. Hilarious. I didn’t need them to sell their bodies. If I saw one I liked, wouldn’t a little wave of my finger be enough to hook him? A young, rich, beautiful woman like me is practically impossible to find. A lowly club host? He’d be eating out of the palm of my hand. 3 My master plan failed immediately. I hit a massive roadblock on my very first deployment. I booked a private VIP room and requested the club’s newest, most handsome host to keep me company. The club was massive. Hoping to catch a glimpse of some other eye candy along the way, I refused the hostess’s offer to escort me, just asking for directions instead. I wandered through a maze of hallways, currently standing in front of two doors, deep in thought. Was it room “886” or “668”? Instant amnesia. I pulled out my phone to double-check when the slightly ajar door of room 886 was pushed open by a draft. A deep, raspy male voice drifted out. “Come in.” Oh, sweet Lord. That has to be my guy. His voice was incredible. This was an ultra-exclusive club. “886” was exactly the kind of tacky, uncultured room number a newly rich person like me would pick. I didn’t hesitate. I pushed the door open. Sure enough, a man was leaning back on the leather sofa. His suit jacket was draped over the backrest. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up halfway, revealing lean, muscular forearms. You didn’t even have to look closely to see the prominent veins. His collar wasn’t unbuttoned, but his tie was slightly loosened. That half-undressed, effortless vibe? Who wouldn’t fold instantly? Well, I definitely did. But what stood out even more than his body was his face. If he debuted in Hollywood right now, he’d be an A-list star in minutes. He was on a completely different level than the usual guys you see around. He seemed to have had a few drinks and was resting with his eyes closed. I made a decent amount of noise walking into the room, but he didn’t even twitch an eyelid. I swallowed hard and slowly crept toward him. No wonder his base rate was three thousand dollars just for drinks. For this kind of premium quality, I’d gladly pay ten grand! The man spoke without opening his eyes: “Clean yourself up. We’re going to my room.” Huh? Clean what up? Me? Or him? Go to his room? To do what?! Didn’t they say these guys didn’t sell their bodies?! Coming on this strong right out of the gate… even if he was gorgeous, I had standards! I asked completely seriously, “Can you show me your most recent STD panel first? I’m a little paranoid.” I wasn’t about to catch something and bring it home! The man finally opened his eyes. His brows furrowed tightly. He didn’t say a word. I tried to be accommodating. “I can pay extra.” His face remained a blank, freezing mask. Damn it. Nobody told me these club hosts had such fragile egos! He wouldn’t even show me his medical records! I was physically thrown out of the room by him. I was furious. I was definitely not requesting him next time. No, wait… I probably will. He was seriously, objectively hot. 4 I ran into the hot host again. This time, on my university campus. Hard to believe, but even after five rounds of blind dates, I still hadn’t graduated college. It wasn’t my fault. The decent guys on campus were all taken. The single ones either weren’t interested in dating, or they were total players. Twenty-two is the prime age for everything, including having kids. Have them early, recover early, and they grow up early. My family has money. I didn’t need to stress over education funds. My grand master plan: Get the baby-making done before I turned twenty-five. I still had three years. Spotting the host, I very “casually” shifted my designer bag so the massive ‘LV’ logo was practically flashing in his face. Just a little subtle flexing. He walked right past me without a single reaction. Excellent. You’ve officially secured my attention, sir. I sprinted in front of him and blocked his path. “Hold on! You’re one of the low-income scholarship students here, right?” I saw him with my own two eyes. He just walked out of Room 306 in Building A. The campus PA system had been blasting all morning, announcing a mandatory meeting for all low-income students in that exact room. No wonder he had to moonlight at that shady club. I flashed my most confident smile. “How about this? You become my guy. I’ll give you twenty grand a month, and you never have to do that kind of dirty work again.” He raised an eyebrow. “Twenty grand?” Not enough? Makes sense. His base rate for one night was three grand. I gritted my teeth. “Fifty grand.” He looked at me, an amused, unreadable expression on his face. “Which ‘dirty work’ exactly?” See? I knew there was no problem that throwing more money at couldn’t solve. Since he had accepted my arrangement, he belonged to me now. “You don’t need to go back to that club. I’m taking care of you now.” I laid down my very reasonable terms: “Of course, I still need to see your medical records. I can go with you to the clinic tomorrow.” He narrowed his eyes, clearly calculating something. Suddenly, he smirked. “Deal.” I was incredibly pleased with myself. I had officially secured myself a hot, broke college boy. 5 My broke college boy’s name was Oliver Vance. He wouldn’t tell me anything else about himself. I figured he was probably worried that if news of our arrangement leaked, it would ruin his reputation on campus. As a generous, forgiving sugar mommy, I completely understood. Oliver was in perfect health. Not a single red flag on his medical panel. The only slight issue was… he was incredibly, painfully pure. He wouldn’t even let me hold his hand. It took until month two for hand-holding, and month three for a quick peck on the lips. And then… total stagnation. No further progress. Until the day I graduated. On graduation day, I was buzzing with excitement. By then, I had been paying his allowance for six months. To maximize our time together, I had rented an apartment near campus, and we had been living together for three months. Living together for three months and not crossing the final line? If I told anyone, I wouldn’t even believe it myself. Using my graduation as the perfect excuse, I demanded a gift. Oliver was in the kitchen washing vegetables, prepping dinner. I wrapped my arms around him from behind. “Mr. Vance, I graduated today! Where is my present?” He turned off the faucet. “It’s in my room. I’ll give it to you after dinner.” I shook my head against his back. “No. I don’t want that present.” He chuckled softly. “You haven’t even seen it yet, and you already don’t want it?” I nodded emphatically. “There is only one present I want today.” I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck. “I’ve been paying your bills for six months. It’s time you made a substantial contribution.” “Tonight, your only job is to please your sugar mommy.”

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“Buy one, get the second half price!” the barista chirped, referring to the coffee. My high-strung boyfriend, Robert Vance, and I were debating flavors when the barista suddenly turned snarky: “Only for couples, sweetie. Mistresses aren’t eligible.” Before I could even process it, Robert had already paid for two coffees. He took my hand and led me out. Seeing my frown, he offered a wry, resigned smile. “It’s just five extra bucks, is it really that big a deal?” I was about to argue when his neighbor gasped: “Robert! Your girlfriend’s been home all afternoon, cooking dinner for you… How could you do this to her?” 1 The moment the words left her mouth, Robert’s apartment door swung open from the inside. A fair-skinned, simply dressed woman, clutching a trash bag, met my gaze. She showed no panic. Casually, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. “You must be Rachel, right? I’m Cathy.” Then, Cathy shot Robert a playfully chiding look. “You didn’t tell me Rachel was coming to Northwood… Take her inside first. I’ll just take out the trash; I still haven’t made your favorite sweet and sour ribs.” I stared at the scene, feeling utterly bewildered. For a moment, I truly didn’t know who Robert’s girlfriend was supposed to be. I instinctively tugged on Robert’s hand, about to question him. But he let go of my hand. Frowning, his expression grave, he stepped forward and said to Cathy: “Your wrist has been bothering you. Didn’t the doctor say no housework?” Robert didn’t wait for an argument. He took the trash bag from Cathy’s hand and strode into the elevator, leaving me standing there, utterly confused. After a long silence, the neighbor lady offered an awkward laugh. “Oh, so she’s a relative from back home… Heh, I knew it. Cathy, you two are so in love… Robert is such a respectable, upright man, he would never bring a mistress home. My apologies, I misunderstood. I was actually about to defend you.” With that, the neighbor lady hurried off with her groceries into the apartment next door. Cathy made no move to explain. She simply pushed up her glasses, smiled, and opened the door. “It’s quite cold out, come in quickly. You can sit wherever you like for now. I’ll call Robert and tell him to pick up a package at the downstairs post office. Otherwise, he won’t have any soft tissues left.” I stood in the living room, watching Cathy busy herself, clearly acting as the lady of the house. My face set in a cold mask, I spoke: “You know I’m Robert Vance’s girlfriend, right?” 2 Honestly, ever since we were buying coffee, I’d felt a subtle unease. But Robert had remained as aloof and restrained as ever, his expression indifferent, not at all like someone with something to hide. Besides, I didn’t want to cause a public scene. But now, looking at the matching couple’s slippers in Robert’s rental apartment, and the abundance of pink items throughout the room, I couldn’t maintain my composure any longer. “Robert and I have been together for four years, with one year of long-distance. And you, so shamelessly, interjected—” “What are you talking about?” Robert suddenly appeared, cutting me off with a sharp tone. He stood tall and handsome, looking down at me. “Cathy is the ‘study partner’ I told you about, the one I’m preparing for graduate school with. The ‘girlfriend’ story was just a lie we used to fend off unwanted attention for each other. I also benefited from this fake relationship, so how can you be so malicious towards Cathy?” I gripped my palms tightly, trying not to let the tears fall. Cathy offered a helpless smile, gracefully and understandingly diffusing the situation. “Robert, don’t be so harsh on Rachel. She doesn’t know the truth, so it’s natural for her to think that way. Young women, you know, it’s quite normal for them to be a bit emotionally driven in relationships and unconsciously compete. That’s why I told you not to tell her about it. See, she’s upset, isn’t she?” I laughed, a bitter sound. “Aren’t you a woman?” Cathy let out an “Oh?” a flicker of mockery in her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, Robert mentioned you went to a regular university and drifted into a typical company right after graduation—” “I just felt that your values aren’t quite the same as ours, you know, those of us who are striving for the top.” She smiled sweetly, offering me a glass of warm water. “Besides, you’re so beautiful and you wear makeup, unlike me, who has no sense of style and only studies. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in marriage; men aren’t part of my life plan. So you don’t need to see me as an imaginary rival.” The glass hung in mid-air. I didn’t take it. After a long moment, the smile on Cathy’s face began to falter. It wasn’t until Robert chuckled, took the glass, and intimately pulled me into his embrace, murmuring tenderly, “There, there, we haven’t seen each other in months, and you’re already a little jealous, huh? The coffee will get cold if you don’t drink it; you can have mine too, okay?” Cathy turned away, a knowing smile on her face, and discreetly entered the kitchen. Robert, meanwhile, slipped his hand under the hem of my white top. “Your favorite six-pack, want to check if it’s up to par?” A firm, warm sensation instantly met my touch. My face flushed. I quickly pulled my hand away, looking up at Robert’s restrained, handsome face. I suddenly remembered that when I first met him, he was as cold as ice to every other woman. Only with me would Robert reveal a different side. He said solemnly, “It’s truly just to ward off unwanted attention, nothing more. We’re long-distance; don’t you have that much trust in me? If you really can’t accept it, then quit that job quickly and come to Northwood to end the long-distance relationship—” “Oh!” I almost forgot the real reason I came to see Robert. I hesitated, “My boss thinks highly of me and plans to—” She planned to transfer me to headquarters, but before I could finish, a scream came from the kitchen. Robert’s expression changed abruptly. “Cathy, what happened?” I watched his tall, broad back as he hurried into the kitchen. Then I looked down at my phone, where my boss’s message read, “What have you decided?” I fell into a contemplative silence. 3 Honestly, the chance to transfer to headquarters was offered to only me and one other male intern from this batch. It was a rare opportunity. But if I transferred, my relationship with Robert would face an even tougher challenge. I couldn’t bear the thought. After all, I had put in a lot of effort to win over this aloof man. As I was agonizing over the decision, my boss sent another message: “I’ll give you three days to think about it.” I sighed in relief, put away my phone, and called out to the kitchen: “What happened? Is everything alright?” 4 I’d heard Robert talk about his “study partner” before. A small-town girl who had only made it this far because of her family’s collective support. Determined, unafraid of hardship or fatigue. So, despite not having a particular fondness for Cathy, seeing her pale and in pain, my heart sank. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” “What else?” Robert’s eyes were cold and merciless. He scooped up the frail Cathy and said indifferently, “Cathy knew you loved sweet and sour pork, so she wanted to make some for you—that’s why she got burned when frying the meat.” “Rachel—” He looked at me, speaking each word distinctly, “Do you know that her dream is to be a doctor? If something happens to Cathy’s hand, then her dream will never be realized.” I stared at Robert in surprise, unable to believe these were words from his usually rational and calm self. “Rachel, I’m so sorry my presence has caused you trouble,” Cathy’s voice trembled, tinged with a cry. “But right now, I need your boyfriend to take me to the hospital. Don’t worry, we only pretend to be a couple in front of outsiders; there’s nothing inappropriate going on. Today is a special circumstance. I never expected the hot oil to splatter when frying the meat… My intention was to…” “It’s not your fault, there’s no need to be so servile.” Robert said, grabbing his phone. “Even if she were a stranger, I’d still take her to the hospital.” He held Cathy in his arms. His face devoid of expression, he looked at me. “Open the door.” I mulled over Robert’s words, feeling a little confused. “It’s not her fault” was implying—was it my fault? 5 After Robert and Cathy left, I stood alone at the door, stunned for a long time. I replied to my boss’s message: “No need to consider. I’m taking the transfer.” When Mrs. Vance called, I was discussing the details with my boss. Her voice was as kind as ever. “Rachel, have you seen Robert?” I mumbled a dull “Mhm,” “Yes, I did.” My heart was heavy with grievances, and for a moment, I didn’t know where to begin. Just as I was about to speak, I heard Mrs. Vance say earnestly: “A few days ago, Robert called me, and he sounded like he had something to say but couldn’t. I knew he had something difficult to talk about. After I pressed him, he finally said he wanted your uncle, Mr. Vance, to pull some strings and get you an introduction to a big company in Northwood…” She sighed, “He sounded quite distressed to me. After all, you’re his first love, and your personalities complement each other so well. Only with you can Robert truly relax and be himself. They’ve been long-distance for so long, I guess he can’t bear it anymore, but he didn’t want to bring it up directly…” My dormant heart instantly rekindled. I nervously confirmed, “Really? I thought—” “Of course! When I said it was no problem, Robert was as happy as could be.” Mrs. Vance was emphatic. “He’s never shown his emotions much since he was a child. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him like that. So, Rachel, when are you going to resign—” I took a deep breath. “Thank you for Mr. and Mrs. Vance’s kindness, but I don’t have plans to resign for now.” I gently cut her off, my voice soft. “I really like this job. My boss values me highly. I can’t give all of this up for Robert. A big company is great, but it might not suit me.” She seemed surprised that I would refuse. After a long silence on the other end, Mrs. Vance gave an awkward laugh. “You pursued Robert for so long; this is a good opportunity… It’s alright, Rachel, just think about it some more…” I wanted to say “no need to think about it,” but I felt Mrs. Vance was well-meaning. I could only slowly hum a “Mhm.” 6 After the call ended, I stood in the empty room and let out a long breath, preparing to leave. But then I noticed a small gift box on the floor—it must have fallen out of Robert’s pocket in his haste. As if possessed, I stopped and picked it up. Inside were two dazzling diamond rings. DR. Only one can be custom-made in a lifetime. And the buyer was Robert Vance. Connecting this with what Mrs. Vance had just said, a wave of guilt washed over me. So Robert had been thinking about our future. And here I was, about to leave in a huff, without even communicating with him. I calmed down, put on a ring, and prepared to call Robert. But his name popped up on my screen first. I answered, eager to speak. “Robert, you dropped something, didn’t you?” “Mhm.” Robert hadn’t expected me to answer so quickly; he sounded a little surprised, then quickly composed himself. “Cathy’s wound has been treated; it’s not serious. She just needs another dressing change in the morning, then she can leave. I’m sorry, I was too rushed just now.” He paused, his voice hoarse. “Do you have time now to help me—” I looked at the sparkling diamond ring on my ring finger, remembering the happy times with Robert. I answered preemptively, “Yes, I do. I can.” Robert sounded much relieved, chuckling, “That’s good. Cathy’s period started early, and her usual feminine pads are in the bathroom cabinet’s hidden compartment. I didn’t want to trouble you, but Cathy’s alone at the hospital, and I can’t leave her. She also has a weak constitution, so she can’t use just any brand—” Cathy’s voice echoed from the other end. Robert tersely sent me a location, then hung up. My smile was still frozen on my face. My hand remained suspended in mid-air. Only the steady beeping of the dial tone remained in my ear, as if to remind me: The dream is over. 7 After much thought: We are all adults. Ending a relationship should be done face-to-face, out of respect for our four years together. Thirty minutes later, I stood in the emergency room. I spotted Robert and Cathy at once. In the chaotic, bustling environment, they alone seemed untouched by time, serene and out of place. As if sensing something, Robert happened to turn his head, and our eyes met. He looked at me, then at the bag in my hand. With a casual, almost languid gesture, like a mythical seducing sprite, he beckoned to me, his voice soft: “Rachel, how can you be so adorable?” Saying this, Robert raised an eyebrow at Cathy and chuckled. “I told you my girlfriend isn’t petty-minded. See?” Cathy’s face soured for a moment. She offered a perfunctory laugh. As she lowered her gaze, a flicker of malevolence flashed in her eyes. Robert didn’t notice. He was only concerned with taking the items from my hand. The next second, he suddenly noticed the diamond ring on my hand. His expression changed dramatically. “Why did you just take someone else’s things?” Before I could react, he coldly slipped the ring off my finger. “Cathy recently got entangled with a senior, so she spent a long time saving up to buy these rings. It was just to make people believe she had a boyfriend and that they were very much in love. It was to ward off unwanted attention—” Robert’s eyes were cold; he seemed to be forcing himself to calm down, lowering his voice. “I know you’re anxious about the progress of our relationship. But you can’t just take other people’s things.” I looked down, seeing my slightly red finger, and felt my eyes well up. No wonder it had been so hard to put on. I thought I had gained weight, but it turned out… Just as the atmosphere grew tense, Adrian Miller, the male colleague I was being transferred with, called on video. On the other end, he laughed openly and uninhibitedly: “Just two more weeks until we leave. Ms. Davies, when will you be back to hand over your work?” … Thud. The things in Robert’s hand fell to the floor. His eyes darkened, and his voice was hoarse: “Hand over work? Rachel, where are you going?”

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My husband received a text message late one night. [They say you’re married. If you’re happy, don’t reply to this message.] My husband didn’t move. He only smiled after I’d finished reading it. “Learning to check up on me now, are we?” His open demeanor showed no hint of guilt. I calmly put the phone back down. Not a word was said. It wasn’t until past midnight that I saw him meticulously composing a reply to that number. [How have you been all these years?] 1 When Leo met my clear, wakeful gaze, there was a momentary flicker of guilt. “Why are you awake? Did I wake you?” My eyes fell on his screen, lit up once more. Suddenly, I felt weary. “No, go back to sleep.” Leo visibly relaxed, exhaling softly. He carefully lifted the covers, his breathing hushed. My face was turned the other way, but I could clearly see the light from his phone flickering on his side of the bed. We didn’t need to say it out loud. We both knew the owner of that number: Kitty Kingsley. She was finally… back. Everyone knew. Kitty Kingsley had pursued Leo for three years. Leo, usually so reserved, was gradually moved by her persistence. On her birthday, he promised to grant her one wish. Everyone silently knew what Kitty’s wish would be. But as fireworks erupted, Kitty was nowhere to be found. Until someone pushed open the private room door. She was entangled with Leo’s best friend. Seeing Leo, her eyes widened in terror. “How are you here?! Then who is he?! You shouldn’t have…” She pointed at the man on the sofa, belatedly trying to shield her body. Fate had played a cruel trick on them. Kitty’s spiked drink had gone to the wrong person. The wind was strong that day. She dressed, tears streaming down her face. “Leo… Can we still be together…?” Leo stared at her, his voice hoarse as he looked away. “It’s already past midnight. The wish… it doesn’t count anymore…” She left the country in tears. Even today. I glanced at the calendar. In three days, it would be her birthday again. Her birthday. Another chance for wishes. Before the storm, everything was calm, like any other day. Leo was adjusting his tie again, glancing at me as if by accident. “I’ll be going on a business trip in a few days.” My hand, brushing my hair, paused. I only asked, “A few days?” He didn’t look at me, just turned his face away. “Three days from now, to Seattle. Is there anything you like? I’ll bring it back for you.” What else could I want? I put down my comb, gently straightening his tie. “When you come back, I’ll tell you what gift I want.” Leo chuckled. “Another riddle? What if you don’t like what I bring back?” I never answered his question. I thought. No matter what he brought back, I wouldn’t be satisfied. I didn’t need to deliberately inquire to know Kitty Kingsley’s activities. Among our mutual friends, everyone was posting photos on social media of the souvenirs she’d brought back. Only Leo and I hadn’t received any. A friend said, “But she clearly said she had big gifts for everyone, especially Leo—” The friend stopped talking. The entire room fell silent. We all imagined what that ‘big gift’ might be. The friend awkwardly added, “Maybe it’s a private gift she gave him, not for public display, haha…” Someone coughed as a reminder. The friend immediately tried to backtrack, “I mean, a tangible gift, not something… intimate…” The friend clapped a hand over their mouth. I smiled, finished the remaining half-glass of wine. “Next time, I have other plans.” I didn’t walk far, still able to hear my friend’s frustrated voice. “Oh, my big mouth!” Leo and I should never have ended up together. His and Kitty’s convoluted fate was too dramatic. No one would willingly be a mere backdrop to such a story. Yet, unexpectedly, I met Leo during a blind date. I treated the meal like a casual gathering with an old friend. As I was leaving, he stopped me. “Should I go home and wait for your call?” I froze. He shrugged. “This isn’t just a formality for me. I’m serious. I’m very pleased with you, Lena.” I had only one month left until my thirtieth birthday. Leo appeared. Limited relationship history. Emotionally stable, no bad habits. Our social circles overlapped, and his assets easily surpassed mine by a digit. I had to admit. He was the pinnacle of the dating market. And so, Leo and I had our second meeting—at my home. He brought expensive gifts, even a sincere proposal. He skipped all the usual dating steps. Yet, no wedding custom was missed. And so we ended up together… I wasn’t without attempts to change this life. During one of Leo’s drunken nights, I asked him, “Are you content with a life like this, unchanging, forever?” Leo looked at me then, his eyes veiled with a smile. “Being rebellious, having unforgettable experiences—those are things for youth.” Leo fell asleep. In the soft hum of his slumber, I couldn’t help but wonder. Whose unforgettable experience… was he thinking of? Just like in many novels. At this stage, Kitty Kingsley was bound to come and provoke me, his legal partner. But she was smart. She added me on a dummy account. And in every single picture, Leo himself wasn’t visible. But I knew him too well. The silhouette reflected on the snow. The hands intertwined with Kitty’s. He had meticulously removed his wedding ring, leaving only the faint mark on his ring finger. I stared at the snowy landscape and laughed out loud. So it wasn’t Seattle. It was Aspen. When he returned, a familiar smile played on his lips. “Didn’t tell you beforehand, wanted to surprise you!” I didn’t reach for the beautifully wrapped gift box. Leo keenly sensed something was wrong, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’s wrong? Not happy?” I glanced at his gift box, speaking calmly. “That brand has a boutique here. No need to trouble yourself with a trip to Aspen.” Leo’s expression froze. He silently put down the gift bag. “I was careless. I forgot to tell you I rerouted from Seattle to Aspen. If you don’t like this gift, what do you like? Or should I have someone buy something from Seattle?” His eyes were downcast as he untied his tie. His wedding ring was still securely on his finger, as if he truly had just returned from a business trip. If only I hadn’t seen that small red mark on his neck. He came over and gently hugged me, his voice soft. “Wife, don’t be upset.” As if desperate to prove something, Leo was exceptionally attentive. I avoided his lips and, with a heavy heart, stated, “You have something on your neck.” Leo looked at me strangely. When he emerged from the bathroom, he stiffly explained, “Maybe I ate something bad while I was away. I’m allergic.” Meticulous as he was, when he consciously made a mistake, his lies were impeccable. I didn’t press further. Catching a thief red-handed. Ding— Both our phones chimed simultaneously. Kitty Kingsley’s group message. [I’m going abroad next week. Before I leave, let’s all have a farewell get-together!] At the end, it was the hotel location she had booked. Leo frowned slightly, looking at me. “We shouldn’t go…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Our gazes met. “Go.” He stared at me silently, finally defeated, a blend of helplessness and indulgence in his voice: “Alright, anything to make my wife happy.” After so many years, I finally saw her in person, after her encounter with my husband. At the door of the private room, she wore a qipao with a daring slit, her eyes curved into a smile as she linked her arm through mine. “Lena, so slow. I waited especially for you.” Our eyes met. We both understood the meaning of ‘waited especially.’ Leo suddenly grabbed my arm from behind. Kitty turned around. From my angle, I could almost see her eyes redden slightly. “Leo is so protective of his wife. Can’t even be apart for a moment.” Leo’s expression was natural. He simply put his arm around my shoulders. “Of course, my wife is more important than anything.” The other friends chuckled. Only Kitty, with downcast eyes, then looked up, released me, and gracefully spun around in front of me with a dazzling smile. “Lena, tell me if what I’m wearing today suits the local aesthetic.” I didn’t have time to speak. She then added, “Someone once told me that I would look especially good in a qipao.” I looked up, glanced at Leo. “Qipaos are beautiful. And Leo, for example, really likes women in them.” In the private room, all laughter ceased. Everyone’s gaze turned to us. Leo didn’t speak, taking a sip of his drink, then took my hand and placed it on the table. “Yes, I like my wife in them the most.” Someone tried to smooth things over, arranging the food and drinks. Kitty had clearly drunk a little too much; her smile was distinctly bitter. “Lena, if only I hadn’t made that mistake back then…” I didn’t drink the wine. Instead, I chuckled softly. “Old wine is sweet, and it’s a good thing you two made up for the love you missed out on back then.” Those closest to us widened their eyes. “Enough!” a sharp voice roared. My words were abruptly cut off. Leo’s hand, clasping his glass, trembled slightly, betraying his emotions. He let out a breath, his gaze shifting to Kitty. “Are you drunk, or what? What nonsense are you telling my wife?!” She gasped, her eyes immediately welling up, tears pattering onto the table. Others awkwardly offered tissues, urging Leo to show her some compassion. Across the crowd, I looked at Leo. “You’re scolding me, but you’re insulting your mistress to maintain peace. Doesn’t that hurt?” Their movements all stopped. I stood up, giving my most sincere smile. “After all, you just slept together in Aspen. To turn on her so quickly, Leo, how heartbroken must Kitty be? Stop the act. Go comfort her.” In the chaotic private room, Leo remained frozen. Kitty even forgot to cry, covering her mouth in a panic. “Leo, I didn’t say anything…” I smiled, not missing the fleeting triumph in Kitty’s eyes. “I never thought one man, Leo, could make you obsess for so many years. I didn’t send you anything for your birthday a few days ago. Today, consider this my belated gift.” Before everyone’s eyes, I pulled out the divorce papers I had long prepared. In the hushed room, I could clearly hear Kitty’s breathing quicken. As I opened the cover, my wrist was suddenly grabbed fiercely. Leo’s eyes were dark. “Lena, it’s not what you think.” Our friends discreetly cleared out, leaving just Leo and me. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently. After a long moment, he finally managed to say, “I… I did have contact with Kitty.” I looked at him, not replying. A few minutes later, his voice was strained: “But I never had any intention of abandoning our family.” I waited a long time but heard nothing further. Impatient, I grabbed my bag to leave. But he instantly blocked my way. “Lena! Let me explain! If it weren’t for me back then, Kitty’s first time… wouldn’t have been with someone else…” He spoke rapidly. I scoffed. “So you regret it, and now you finally have a chance to make amends?” He frowned. “You’re too extreme. I only took her to Aspen once… Even if you didn’t expose us, after she leaves, we wouldn’t contact each other anymore.” “So you think what you did was right? The only mistake was that I shouldn’t have exposed it?” Faced with my questions, Leo remained silent. Before I could pull away and leave, he suddenly said, “Before we got married, you weren’t unaware of what was going on between her and me…” The main door was pulled open. I stood still. Everyone hadn’t left. Kitty Kingsley was surrounded by friends, looking pitiful. “These years, I’ve had it so hard abroad. But if there were any other way, who would want to leave their home and country…” I walked closer to her. Kitty couldn’t keep up the act, her expression defensive as she backed away. “Lena, you…” My hand raised high. Before it could fall, she yelped and cowered. Behind me, I heard the rapid sound of leather shoes. I smiled, leaning close to Kitty. “Don’t worry, I won’t hit you.” Behind me, Leo approached. The slap that never reached Kitty landed squarely on his face. CRACK! Everyone gasped. Kitty’s eyes immediately reddened. “Leo—” My palm tingled slightly. I shook my arm. My gaze fell on Leo’s astonished eyes. “Hitting her is illegal. Hitting you isn’t.” The pent-up frustration in my chest finally dissipated a little with that slap. I left alone. The mess, I left for Leo to clean up.

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On the day I was officially recognized by my biological family, I reclaimed my room from the fake heiress, tore her favorite dress to shreds, and called her a “country bumpkin” who could never truly belong in high society. The fake heiress, Chloe, screamed like a banshee, “Mia! You bitch!” Before I could even respond, my father delivered a resounding slap across her face. “Chloe! When will you learn to be as sensible and well-behaved as Mia? You are a profound disappointment!” My mother looked at her with pure ice in her eyes. “What an ungrateful little wretch.” Looking down at Chloe crumpled on the floor, the corners of my mouth curled into a smile. “Chloe, this time around, it’s your turn to taste what it feels like to be abandoned by everyone you love.” 1. When my mother finally regained consciousness, I was sitting quietly in the hospital chair next to her bed, diligently working on some math problems. Seeing her eyes open, I immediately stood up, my voice full of concern. “Ma’am, you’re awake! Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” My mother offered a weak, pale smile. “Such a good girl. Thank you for everything.” She had fainted from a sudden drop in blood sugar on the street, and I had been the one to rush her to the hospital. Looking at the gentle, smiling woman in front of me… I couldn’t help but remember the look of utter disgust on her face in my past life as she screamed at me: “How could I have given birth to such an ignorant, classless daughter! If I had known, I would have just let the mistake remain a mistake!” Yes, the elegant socialite lying in the hospital bed was my biological mother. Only, she didn’t know it yet. I am the true heiress of the Sterling family, switched at birth. In my past life, I returned to the Sterling family with a heart full of desperate hope and joy, only to be met with cold stares and deep dissatisfaction from everyone. My father took one look at me, his brow furrowed in distaste. “Teach her some manners,” he ordered the staff, before immediately leaving for the office. My mother was polite but incredibly distant. “If you need anything, just tell Mrs. Hughes, the housekeeper.” From the very beginning, their eyes only held affection for Chloe. And Chloe? She stood there wearing a limited-edition designer knit dress and custom Mary Janes, making her displeasure blatantly obvious. My mother even stroked her hair to comfort her. I pushed the cold memory away and poured a glass of warm water for the woman in the bed. My mother looked at me with overwhelming gratitude. Heh. How hilarious. In my past life, I spent every single day cooking and making elaborate soups, desperately trying to win my parents’ approval, and I never even got a smile in return. Now, a simple glass of water had my mother looking at me like I was a saint. I guess being their actual daughter was just a curse. Hearing my mother call the family chauffeur, I politely stood up to say goodbye. It was too early for me to meet anyone else from the Sterling family. My mother insisted on rewarding me, but I repeatedly declined. I only relented enough to leave her my contact information. Of course, the whole incident today was orchestrated. I “coincidentally” walked past her and “coincidentally” saved her life. In my past life, I remembered the housekeeper mentioning a time when my mother had a severe hypoglycemic episode on the street. It was a highly dangerous situation, but she was saved by a passing college student. That student eventually became my mother’s godson and was fast-tracked into an executive position at the Sterling Corporation. That godson’s name was Liam Vance, and he was also one of Chloe’s most devoted orbiters. In my past life, he had helped Chloe frame and torment me countless times. This time, I calculated the exact timing and stole his golden opportunity. Let’s see if he ever manages to set foot in the Sterling household now. 2. That evening, I returned to the home of my adoptive parents. My adoptive father, Arthur, was blackout drunk. The moment he saw me, he started screaming curses: “You worthless little money-pit! All you do all day is run around trying to seduce men! I’ll beat the life out of you!” My adoptive mother gave a half-hearted, token protest. “Alright, alright. You come home and throw a drunken tantrum every single day.” With that, she immediately ordered me to go wash the dishes. I obediently walked toward the kitchen, but Arthur wasn’t done. “You little bitch! Who told you to walk away?! You don’t even listen to your own father anymore?! Do you think you’re special?!” He whipped off his leather belt and started lashing it across my back. I didn’t dodge. I took every single brutal strike without making a sound. Let him hit me. If I didn’t have these welts and bruises, how was I going to play the sympathy card with my biological mother? Seeing that I wasn’t fighting back, Arthur got bored. He muttered “jinx” under his breath and stumbled back to his room to pass out. The next day, my biological mother arranged to meet me. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and deliberately wore a faded, patched-up shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans. My facial features were strikingly similar to my mother’s—we both had bold, striking, and glamorous looks. Even though I was dressed in rags, it couldn’t hide my natural beauty. My mother was delighted to see me. She handed me a beautifully wrapped gift box. Inside was an exquisite, clearly expensive brooch. I pressed my lips together tightly. “Mrs. Sterling, you really shouldn’t have spent money on this. I… I have no use for something like this.” My mother finally took a close look at me, noticing my worn, patched clothing. A look of uncontrollable pity flooded her eyes. “It was very thoughtless of me. Let me take you to buy some clothes, okay?” I continued to refuse, working hard to project the image of a strong, resilient, but pure-hearted ‘white flower’. “Mrs. Sterling, I only did what anyone should do. You really don’t have to do this. If you really want to thank me, could you… could you buy me a set of advanced math workbooks instead?” Looking into my timid, careful eyes, my mother’s heart completely melted. She immediately ordered her driver to take us to the largest bookstore in the city. In the car, my mother accidentally brushed against my arm. I sharply sucked in a breath of air. “Hiss.” When my mother looked at me in alarm, I quickly pulled my arm away and hid it behind my back. Her face filled with suspicion. Ignoring my protests, she gently pulled my arm forward and rolled up the sleeve. When she saw the angry red welts and deep purple bruises crisscrossing my pale skin, she almost gasped out loud. “Mia, who did this to you? Is someone bullying you at school?!” I lowered my head, acting terrified to speak. “Have you told your parents? Is the school doing anything about this? I’m calling your principal right now!” I hurriedly grabbed her hand to stop her. “No, Mrs. Sterling! No one at school is bullying me. I promise.” My mother hesitated for a moment. “Was it your parents?” I bit my lip hard and gave a slow, barely perceptible nod. My mother looked absolutely horrified. “How could anyone treat their own biological daughter like this?” Watching her dramatic reaction, I sneered internally. Yeah, I wanted to ask the exact same question. How could anyone treat their biological daughter like that? In my past life, neither of my biological parents ever bothered to ask about the life I had lived before returning to them. Of course, they didn’t actually want to know. Even when I came home covered in scars, they pretended they were blind. And now? Seeing her express such profound concern made me feel nothing but absolute disgust. My mother insisted on taking me to a private clinic to get my injuries treated and bandaged. On the way there, her phone rang. Judging by her tone, it was definitely Chloe. “Didn’t you just buy a dozen designer bags last week? Why do you need another one so soon?” “Buy it, buy it. My daughter is being so sweet, how can I say no?” “The dessert shop on Lakeview Street? Okay, Mom will pick some up for you in a bit.” My mother hung up the phone, her face glowing with unconditional adoration. She even laughed and complained to me, “My daughter is an absolute menace. If only she could be as sensible and mature as you are.” I lowered my eyes and offered a small, self-deprecating smile. “I wish I had a mother like you.” Seeing the deep sense of loss on my pale face, my mother’s heart took a massive, painful hit. To cheer me up, she stopped at that same dessert shop and bought me the exact same pastries she got for Chloe. As soon as the Sterling family’s Maybach pulled away, my expression instantly reverted to total apathy. I casually tossed the expensive desserts straight into the nearest trash can. 3. On Monday, I was back in class. I overheard the teachers mentioning that several executives from local corporations would be touring the campus later that week. My mind started working immediately. I attended the most prestigious academic high school in the city. If my guess was correct, the Sterling Group would definitely be part of that delegation. I thought about it for a minute, then headed straight to the faculty office. Throughout the week, my mother frequently messaged me on WeChat, checking in on me, and had her driver randomly drop off expensive meals for me. I flawlessly maintained my persona: the fragile, resilient, tragically misunderstood girl. So incredibly sensible and mature that it broke your heart. The new week arrived, and the corporate delegation arrived on campus for their inspection tour. As Mr. Sterling and his entourage were guided past the main athletic field, my voice echoed clearly over the PA system: “Hello everyone, I am Mia, from the AP Junior Class…” The clear, confident voice of a young girl instantly drew the attention of the crowd. I stood at the podium, dressed in a spotless uniform, my hair pulled into a crisp high ponytail, sharing my academic strategies as the top-ranked student in the entire grade. The principal proactively introduced me to the delegation. “This is our valedictorian, Mia. She is a constant presence at national academic competitions. She is an exceptionally brilliant student with an incredibly bright future.” My father, who had naturally already heard about my heroic rescue of his wife, recognized my name immediately. Hearing the principal’s high praise, he nodded in strong approval. “We have that major charity initiative launching next week, and we need a few outstanding student volunteers as ambassadors. I think this Mia would be perfect for the role.” The principal readily agreed. It was a massive PR win for the school. When my homeroom teacher brought it up with me, I accepted enthusiastically. A few days later, I arrived at the designated location alongside several other top students. The charity initiative was focused on supporting underprivileged children, and the corporate coalition was funding the construction of a new school in a rural area. My father and several other powerful executives arrived shortly after. Wearing a bright red volunteer vest, I flashed a brilliant, sweet smile as I distributed supplies to the children. During the media interviews, I was poised, articulate, and completely unflappable. Even the principal nodded continuously, visibly astounded by my performance. When the news aired that evening, fueled by my striking looks and eloquent speech, the hashtag “#MostBeautifulVolunteer” skyrocketed to the top of the trending charts. The Sterling Group and the other corporations involved happily fanned the flames, injecting money to boost the algorithm. I leveraged the moment and created my own public social media accounts. Knowing that overexposure could backfire, I kept my content strictly focused on sharing high-level study tips and academic advice. When my mother heard about all this, she was utterly amazed. “Mia, you are so incredible! What kind of reward can Auntie give you for doing so well?” I smiled demurely, once again refusing any material gifts. “Mrs. Sterling, I really just enjoy your company. If you have time in the future, just coming to visit me is the best reward I could ask for.” Hearing my thoughtful, emotionally intelligent response, my mother was deeply moved. She pulled me into a hug, looking down as she pondered something. “Mia, Auntie knows you don’t care about material things. But what about the elite summer academic camp at Princeton? Would you want to go?” I smiled internally. Hook, line, and sinker. After all, once I officially returned to the Sterling family, I would have unlimited access to designer clothes and jewelry. Right now, utilizing their resources to elevate my own status and resume was the much smarter play. I immediately put on a mask of pure, absolute shock. “Really? Mrs. Sterling, is that really possible?!” Seeing the stars shining in my eyes, my mother couldn’t resist gently tapping my nose. “Of course it is! You are so incredibly driven; Auntie absolutely supports you.” I gasped in delight. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Sterling!” Soon enough, I attended the elite summer camp exactly as planned. I networked with some incredibly brilliant people and made a few very useful connections. On the day I returned, as I stepped off the chartered bus, a girl named Sarah called out to me. “Mia! Don’t forget to message me on WeChat when you get home!” I smiled and nodded, watching her skip happily away. But before I could even turn my head, I saw Sarah running directly toward someone. Chloe. Sarah and Chloe both attended the city’s most elite private prep school. It wasn’t surprising that they knew each other. Chloe was dressed in an expensive, preppy designer set. Her meticulous, full-face makeup made her stand out sharply among the crowd of tired students. The corners of my mouth slowly curled upward. Even if I was an exceptionally brilliant student, that wasn’t nearly enough to shake Chloe’s unassailable position in my parents’ hearts. But what if Chloe repeatedly, spectacularly disappointed them? I remembered something very specific. In my past life, Chloe and her little clique of mean girls relentlessly bullied a girl at their prep school for over a year. That girl was incredibly stubborn and nearly attempted suicide over it. Ultimately, Liam Vance stepped in and used his connections to make the problem quietly disappear for Chloe. But what if Liam Vance wasn’t there this time? Would Chloe still be so lucky? 4. I just didn’t expect my first face-to-face encounter with Chloe to happen so soon. That weekend, my mother invited me out. I assumed it would just be the two of us, like usual. Until Chloe stepped out of the luxury SUV. “Mia, I’ve been meaning to introduce you two! Chloe insisted on tagging along today, so I figured it was a great chance for you girls to get to know each other.” Chloe was wearing a black and white tweed Chanel suit, stepping out of the car with an aura of bored entitlement. One look, and you knew she was a stereotypical, spoiled rich girl. She frowned, looking me up and down. The disdain and intense defensive hostility in her eyes were glaringly obvious. “Mom, is this the Mia you never shut up about?” Chloe asked, deliberately clinging tightly to my mother’s arm. “Yes, this is Mia,” my mother said, looking at me with immense satisfaction. Chloe let out a mocking, playful smirk. “She definitely looks like she came from the country.” “Chloe! Watch your mouth! Where are your manners?!” My mother’s smile instantly vanished. She glared at Chloe, then turned to me, desperately trying to apologize. “Mia, please don’t take it to heart. Chloe doesn’t mean any harm. I’ve just spoiled her completely rotten.” I bit my lip hard, my eyes filling with a profound, lonely sadness. “It’s okay, Mrs. Sterling. Chloe is so incredibly lucky to have a mother as wonderful as you.” “Tsk. So fake,” Chloe sneered. Hearing Chloe’s cruel remark, my head dropped even lower, the corners of my mouth turning down in absolute defeat. This time, my mother was genuinely furious. “Chloe, your allowance is cut off for the rest of the week! Get back in the car and go home. Right now.” “Mom! You’re punishing me over this country bumpkin?! Are you my mother or hers?!” Chloe screamed, shot me a venomous, hateful glare, turned around, and stormed away. My mother apologized to me profusely, over and over. I played the understanding, mature friend, offering her gentle comfort. Seeing that she was in a terrible mood, I suggested we go to an art exhibition nearby. My mother immediately agreed. Upon entering the gallery, my mother was instantly captivated by a painting displayed prominently in the center of the hall. It was an abstract piece depicting a gentle, elegant woman looking down at an infant in her arms with profound, unconditional love. Even though the style was abstract, upon closer inspection, the woman in the painting bore a striking resemblance to my mother. “What is this?” my mother asked, astonished. “Mrs. Sterling, this is a gift from the young lady beside you,” the gallery attendant explained smoothly. “Mia, you did this?” I offered a sweet, innocent smile. “Mrs. Sterling, you’ve taken such incredible care of me, and I have nothing of value to offer you in return. I’ve been working part-time at this gallery, and I painted this myself. It’s for you. I hope you like it.” My mother looked absolutely astounded, moved entirely beyond words. In high society, they lack absolutely nothing material. What they value most is “genuine sincerity.” After this incident, my status in my mother’s heart skyrocketed. She became even more dedicated to me. She visited me every weekend, or whenever she had a spare moment. When she discovered my natural talent for art, she personally hired a renowned master painter to give me private tutoring. I comfortably, unapologetically absorbed every single benefit and resource my mother provided. Are you kidding? All of this belonged to me in the first place. I accepted it all without a shred of guilt. Meanwhile, I began communicating much more frequently with Sarah. Through her, I confirmed that Chloe was, exactly as in my past life, actively bullying other students at her prep school. I smirked. Well then, it’s time to send her a spectacular gift.

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After the fake daughter died. The diary she kept at the shelter was exposed. It chronicled her grievances, her resilience, and her selfless love for her family. In an instant. The entire internet was in tears. Our whole family was drowning in regret. And I, the one who had hidden the fact that she had cancer, became the target of universal hatred. My brother cursed me: “I’d rather live in poverty for the rest of my life if it meant Chloe could live!” My parents raged at me: “Who gave you the right to make choices for us?! We don’t want wealth and status, we just want Chloe!” I was isolated, cyberbullied, and kicked out of the house. I eventually died on the streets. When I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day the fake daughter, Chloe, received her terminal cancer diagnosis. 1 “Sis, promise me, don’t tell anyone I’m sick, okay?” Chloe was gripping my hand, her eyes swimming with tears. Her voice trembled, and her entire body radiated a pathetic, almost begging vulnerability. Even though I had been reborn, seeing her like this still tugged slightly at my heartstrings. “Dad lost everything in that gamble. The company is gone. Mom is so sick she can barely get out of bed. And Liam has been running himself ragged trying to keep Dad out of jail. If they find out I’m sick, it’ll just make everything worse. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys, I really don’t…” What a perfect sob story! A gambling father, a severely ill mother, an exhausted brother, and her—the cancer-stricken girl about to shatter! In my previous life. Not long after Chloe said these exact words to me, she chose to run away from home. To stop our parents and brother from looking for her, she intentionally painted herself as a gold-digging material girl. She partied wildly with thugs at clubs, publicly threatening to cut ties with Liam. She escorted wealthy older men to high-end events, outright declaring that our parents were unfit to be parents. She completely shattered the hearts of our parents and Liam. All to establish her own glorious martyrdom. And every bit of it. Was recorded in her diary. Three years after Chloe died. Liam went from being penniless to becoming a rising star in the business world. With new investments, my parents also got back on their feet. And I, who had been silently working multiple jobs to support the entire family, finally officially became the eldest daughter of the Vance family. But the good days only lasted a few days. Before Chloe’s diary sent me crashing back to the bottom. An influencer with millions of followers, known for reuniting families, showcased Chloe’s final diary on a livestream. Overnight, Chloe’s diary went viral. Her act of self-sacrifice for the sake of her family moved countless netizens to tears. It also plunged my parents and Liam, who finally knew the truth, into an endless abyss of remorse. With nowhere to vent their emotions. They pointed all their blame at me. It was as if I was the true culprit who killed Chloe. “Why did you hide the fact that Chloe was sick?! Let me tell you, even if Chloe is gone, you can never replace her as my sister! I only have one sister, and that’s Chloe Vance!” Liam held a hysterical press conference. Publicly announcing he was severing all ties with me. I fought back hard: “Chloe begged me to keep it a secret! She didn’t want to be a burden! I wanted you and Mom and Dad to succeed too! We only had that tiny bit of startup capital left! I was just respecting her choice, I didn’t do anything wrong…” Liam shoved me away, pointing at me and roaring: “But did you respect my choice?! Do you have any idea how much I cared about Chloe?! Stop using ‘for my own good’ as an excuse! Nobody asked you to do it for my own good! You’re just a ruthless, money-hungry bitch! That money could have saved Chloe’s life! Who the hell cared about starting a business?!” In a panic. I turned to my parents for help. But the locks on the house had already been changed. My luggage was tossed out like trash. “If it weren’t for Chloe, we never would have brought you out of that orphanage.” “You’re Chloe’s jinx! If it weren’t for you, Chloe wouldn’t have died!” “Get away from the Vance family, and don’t force us to do something even more cruel.” The hateful glares from my parents were deeply etched into my heart. In that moment. I finally understood. No matter how hard I tried, I could never integrate into this family. People who achieve success easily forget the hardships they endured, and they easily believe their current status stems from their own abilities rather than luck and opportunity. But, in this life. Often. Choices matter more than hard work. Opportunities matter more than abilities. Given a second chance. I will make absolutely sure my parents and Liam regret this for the rest of their lives! 2 “What are you guys doing?” Liam suddenly pushed the door open and walked toward us. Chloe furrowed her brow, continuing to plead with me in a low voice: “Please, Sis…” But before Chloe could finish her sentence. I cut her off: “I’m sorry, but I can’t promise you that.” I shook off Chloe’s hand. Chloe froze, looking bewildered: “Sis, why…” Because you’re going to write a diary. And make me public enemy number one. I turned to face Liam, blurting out: “Liam, Chloe is sick. Terminal cancer.” Liam stopped dead in his tracks, a look of sheer terror suddenly appearing on his exhausted face. Chloe immediately shook her head: “No, I’m not sick! Sis is just joking with you…” I calmly and methodically continued: “Chloe still has the diagnosis report in her pocket. You can see for yourself. I think we need to tell Mom and Dad as soon as possible. We can’t delay Chloe’s treatment.” Chloe instantly clamped her hands over her pockets. Liam reached out and snatched the crumpled diagnosis report from her hand. Seeing the words “Terminal Cancer” clearly printed on the paper. Liam’s body visibly swayed: “It really is cancer…” Tears immediately spilled from Chloe’s eyes. “No, you can’t tell Mom and Dad! Mom’s health is terrible, and Dad’s body is already failing because of the company… If they find out, they won’t be able to handle it… Liam, please don’t! Sis, please don’t…” She cried, looking weak and pitiful, completely out of breath. Followed by a soft cough. A pool of blood gushed from her nose. It scared all the color out of Liam’s handsome face. But Chloe still tried to hold it together, insisting she was fine. “Let’s go to the hospital,” I suggested. Chloe shook her head and waved her hands: “No, no, I just need to rest a bit. Going to the hospital is just a waste of money…” Liam grabbed Chloe, pulling her domineeringly into his arms, and gave an order: “Chloe, listen to me.” And so. Refusing to let Chloe resist. Liam took her straight to the hospital. They ran a comprehensive set of tests. The result. Was exactly the same as the diagnosis report. “It is indeed terminal cancer. It has already metastasized to multiple areas. After removing the larger tumors, we’ll need to follow up with a combination of radiation and chemotherapy. Given how young the patient is, it’s hard to say exactly how effective the treatment will be, and the costs… well, they won’t be small…” Before the doctor could finish, Liam interrupted: “No matter what it takes, we’ll treat her.” The doctor nodded, then printed out the admission forms. “Go to the admissions department and get her checked in as soon as possible. She may need multiple surgeries in a short period of time, so she’ll need a family member with her 24/7. Here’s a list of things you’ll need for her stay.” Liam took the stack of documents. He held Chloe’s hand and headed to the admissions department. “The deposit is $5,000. Cash or card?” The nurse asked Liam politely. Liam frowned deeply, looking troubled. “Wait here for a minute. I need to make a phone call.” I sat with Chloe on the bench in the admissions area, watching Liam make calls outside. He looked anxious one minute, forcing a smile the next, and then stomping his feet in frustration and cursing at the sky. It wasn’t until the hospital was about to close that Liam finally managed to scrape together the $5,000 deposit. God only knows how he had to bend his pride to ask those trust-fund kids he used to party with for money. In my previous life, even if he went a week without eating, he never asked those kids for a dime. In this life, it had only just begun, and his pride was already gone. You can imagine how the rest of his days would go… “Don’t worry, money isn’t an issue. As long as you can get better, Liam will take care of everything.” Looking at Liam’s passionate promise, Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. And I remained completely expressionless. I just took in the hospital, reeking of disinfectant. Oh, this wasn’t just a hospital. It was a money pit for the poor. 3 Hospital beds require joining a waitlist. Paying the $5,000 deposit just secured a spot in line. Once admitted, money would be silently drained away with every breath. A night in a bed, an IV line, a bag of saline, oxygen… accumulating bit by bit, tens and hundreds of dollars at a time, it would become an insurmountable mountain of debt for a poor family. When the three of us came to the hospital, we were in a frantic rush and took a taxi. Now leaving the hospital, less hurried, we unconsciously found ourselves at the bus stop, waiting for the bus home. It was rush hour. The crowd was surging. We were squeezed onto the bus. In the cramped, stifling space. Chloe cried several times, trying to convince Liam to give up on treatment. But Liam’s eyes were resolute, his gaze unwavering, driving his words of absolute commitment deep into Chloe’s mind. “We’re a family! No matter how hard it gets, we will never give up on you! Just listen to the doctors and get your treatment. Liam will handle everything else!” “Liam, how did I get so lucky to have a brother like you…” They hugged. Pouring their hearts out to each other. If the bus hadn’t smelled so bad, it would have been a perfectly dreamy scene straight out of a romance drama. When we got back to our rented apartment. My parents were sitting on the small bed, a stack of cash resting beside them. This was the money from Dad selling his prized gold watch and Mom selling an entire closet of designer heels. No more, no less. Exactly $300,000. In my previous life, Liam relied on this exact $300,000 to build his business from scratch, single-handedly saving the Vance family from total ruin and becoming a rising star in the business world. Seeing us return, my parents frowned deeply. “Liam, we got the $300,000 you needed. Invest it in Chris’s ‘Rice Tech’ startup just like you planned. Let’s hope Chris doesn’t let us down and takes ‘Rice Tech’ all the way to an IPO.” “Rice” was the smart tech brand founded by Chris. Chris was Liam’s college classmate. They were very close, and Liam had invested a lot of time and effort in the early and late stages to help take “Rice” public. Now, they were just short $300,000. Filling this gap would allow Rice Tech to take off, driven by Chris’s marketing genius. And soaring right alongside it would be Liam, my parents, and… the entire Vance Group. However. Now. It probably wasn’t going to take off. Looking torn, Liam walked over to my parents and handed them Chloe’s medical reports. “What’s this?” Dad frowned in confusion. Mom also leaned in to look at the report. When they clearly saw the words “Terminal Cancer” on the paper, their eyes instantly turned red. Dad pressed his lips tightly together. Mom burst into tears. Chloe couldn’t hold back her tears either, sobbing uncontrollably. “Mom, Dad, we can always make money later. But Chloe’s illness can’t wait.” Liam choked on his words, completely helpless. Mom and Dad wiped away their tears and nodded heavily. “We treat her. We absolutely have to treat Chloe’s illness.” 4 After Mom and Dad made the final call. The entire family completely shelved the “Vance Revival” plan. The new goal was the “Save Chloe” plan. Dad chose to work construction at a building site. Mom took a job as a waitress at a restaurant. Liam hustled at “Rice Tech.” Although he couldn’t be a boss, his relationship with the founder got him a spot in the sales department. As for me. Unlike my past life, where I dropped out of school to work and provide a financial safety net for the family. I took a leave of absence from school. To stay at the hospital and care for Chloe 24/7. “Sis, ever since I got sick, Mom, Dad, and Liam have all cried. But you’re the only one who hasn’t. Why?” Chloe, who was now officially admitted, asked me with wide, pitiful, innocent eyes. I had just finished organizing her hospital bed and putting her toiletries in the cabinet. Hearing her voice, I slowly turned around. I looked at her: “Crying doesn’t solve any problems. Why should I waste my time and energy crying?” Chloe offered a bitter smile: “From the very first day you came back, I knew you didn’t like me. But I just don’t understand why you told the family I was sick. If I had just left, Mom, Dad, Liam, and you would be living much better lives right now…” I used to think that too. That without the burden of Chloe, I would live a great life. But reality proved otherwise. People who aren’t loved will never live a good life, no matter what. So what about those who are loved? Do they inevitably live a good life? Will this tragic girl, Chloe, have a different fate in this life compared to the last? “Stop overthinking it. Just focus on your treatment and believe that you can beat this disease!” I settled her into bed. While I lay on the cramped cot, awake all night. Because I had to be constantly vigilant in case Chloe tried to escape the hospital room. The next morning. With heavy dark circles under my eyes, I accompanied the nurses as they wheeled Chloe into the operating room. Before going in, Chloe shook her head and sighed. “Sis, what’s the point? My disease is incurable. Spending all this money is just a waste… Sis, help me. Please convince Mom, Dad, and Liam to stop the treatment, okay?” Last night, Chloe tried to get out of bed five times to run away. And every single time, I pulled her back. “Yeah, the doctors say you can’t be cured, but Mom, Dad, and Liam won’t listen. You tell them you can’t be cured, and they still won’t listen. If I go tell them you can’t be cured… do you really think they’ll listen to me? You know exactly how much they love you. Why are you putting me in this position, making me play the bad guy?” Chloe frowned slightly: “I didn’t want to make you the bad guy. I just…” I looked at her intently: “Then stay alive. Stay alive and watch with me… Let’s see just how long the people who claim to love you so much can actually keep loving you.” Chloe looked shocked: “Sis, what do you mean?” “A long illness wears out a dutiful son. And prolonged poverty destroys a harmonious home.” I said softly. Chloe was wheeled into the operating room by the nurses. The red light above the door clicked on. The lead surgeon worked meticulously. The massive tumor was removed, and after testing, it was unequivocally confirmed as malignant. When Chloe was wheeled out, her frail body was covered in tubes. A massive oxygen mask almost covered her entire face. Her breath was weak as a thread. When Mom, Dad, and Liam came to visit after work and saw Chloe looking so lifeless, they trembled with heartbreak. Their care was genuine. Their concern was real. Even when the nurse reminded them about the upcoming bills for chemotherapy and radiation, they all remained fiercely committed to the treatment. Day one, surgery. After insurance, it cost $100,000. Day two, radiation. Day three, chemotherapy… Behind the seemingly smooth process, the disease was secretly raging. On the fourth night. Chloe experienced organ failure and urgently needed a kidney transplant. Mom and I were automatically ruled out due to incompatible blood types. After testing, both Dad and Liam were found to be matches. Dad immediately volunteered to donate his kidney to Chloe. But Liam stopped him, citing Dad’s age, and took the burden upon himself. While unconscious, Chloe received Liam’s kidney. Afterward, when Chloe learned the truth, she was deeply moved to tears again. Everyone was immersed in the feeling of “family unity.” I was probably the only one who actually heard what the doctor said. “Kidney failure is usually just the mildest of the complications. Next, it will be liver failure, heart failure… If you keep doing transplant surgeries, not only will the financial burden be astronomical, but you’ll be taking turns destroying healthy bodies. It’s truly not worth it. I advise you to give up treatment…”

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The day of my son’s wedding began with a sharp, metallic click. Nathan reached out and unpinned the “Mother of the Groom” corsage from my lapel. He didn’t look me in the eye. “Mom, don’t come up for the toast,” he said, his voice low and clinical. “I want Sonia to stand up there with Dad. We owe her this much, after all these years.” I felt the air leave my lungs. “You’re asking me to hide at my own son’s wedding?” “Don’t make a scene,” Nathan sighed, finally looking at me with a mix of pity and annoyance. “Dad has spent his whole life with a woman he doesn’t love. He’s sixty now. Let him have this one moment of peace. Just this once, let him be happy.” I was ushered to the back of the room, seated at a table near the service entrance—right next to Sonia’s lapdog in its rhinestone carrier. I watched from the shadows as Nathan stood at the podium, tears streaming down his face as he thanked his ‘parents.’ I watched my husband, Arthur, grip Sonia’s hand under the table, his face glowing with a radiance he had never once offered me. In that moment, something inside me didn’t just break. It died. That evening, the three of them—Arthur, Nathan, and Sonia—walked into our house like they owned the air I breathed. “It is what it is,” Arthur said, adjusting his glasses. “I’ve been unfaithful. You have two choices. You can sign the divorce papers and give Sonia her rightful place.” He paused, glancing at the woman clinging to his arm. “Or, you can clear out a guest room. Sonia is moving in. We’re going to live here together.” Looking at their united front, a jagged, hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. “Do either of you remember the oaths you swore?” I asked, my voice trembling. “The ones you insisted on making?” Arthur scoffed. “People change, Claire. Only a child clings to words spoken decades ago.” But they forgot one thing. My “System”—the Moral Arbiter that had governed my life since I arrived in this world—didn’t care about the passage of time. It was a cold, cosmic bookkeeper. And once the target of my devotion turned unfaithful, those “vicious oaths” weren’t just metaphors. They were debt notices. 1 [System Notification: Infidelity detected. The ‘Vicious Oath’ protocol has been forcibly initiated. Host is advised to finalize the divorce and distance herself from the targets immediately.] I looked at Sonia. I hadn’t even opened my mouth, but she already had that practiced, watery-eyed look. She was one of those women who had never married, never had children, and it gave her a preserved, fragile quality that made her look ten years younger than me. Pretty. Young. Vulnerable. She was the perfect bait for a man’s hero complex. Arthur grew impatient with my silence. “I meant it when I said I loved you back then,” he said, his tone darkening. “And I mean it now when I say I don’t. We aren’t kids. What’s the point in dragging up old ghosts?” He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I remember what I said. I told you that if I ever betrayed you, I’d lose my reputation, my fortune, and die a slow, agonizing death. Does that sound realistic to you? It was pillow talk, Claire. Heat-of-the-moment nonsense.” He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “If every man who cheated actually dropped dead, the world would be an empty place.” Nathan stepped forward, siding with his father. “Exactly, Mom. Everyone makes dramatic promises when they’re young. Remember when you and Dad used to fight? I told you that if you ever left him, and if I ever called another woman ‘Mom,’ I’d go blind and deaf and end up starving on the streets.” He walked past me, dismissive and cold, and handed a cup of tea to Sonia with a reverence he hadn’t shown me in years. “Sonia is going to live here. She’s part of this family now. Effectively, she’s my mother too,” he said with a mocking grin. “I’ve accepted her, and look—I can still see, I can still hear. I’m doing just fine. Stop lying to yourself.” They were right about one thing: to them, a man’s word was no better than a dog’s bark. But when they had made those oaths, I had warned them. I had told them, with absolute clarity, what the consequences would be. Back then, they had been so sincere, so desperate to prove their loyalty. Now, they treated it like a joke. “Your oaths will be answered,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Just wait.” Their faces soured. They looked at me as if I were a delusional patient in a psych ward. Before they could speak, Sonia suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me, tears overflowing. “Claire, please,” she sobbed. “I’m not trying to take your place. I just want a home with Arthur. Please, just let me stay. I’ll do anything.” The sight of her “humility” sent Arthur into a protective rage. He hauled her up, his eyes cold and sharp as glass. “Don’t beg her,” he snapped. “I wasn’t really asking for your permission, Claire. Sonia stays. If you don’t like it, we divorce. But let’s be honest—you’d never leave this life. You’re too comfortable.” Nathan rolled his eyes and signaled the maid to start moving things into the third-floor guest suite. “Mom, don’t be so selfish,” Nathan said. “You’ve had Dad all to yourself for thirty years. Wasn’t that enough? If Sonia were as greedy as you, you would have been out of the picture decades ago. They have a ‘True Love’ connection. They should be in the master bedroom. You should be the one to move…” “No need,” I interrupted, my voice cutting through his nonsense. “I choose divorce.” Arthur froze. The smugness flickered for a fraction of a second. He hadn’t expected me to actually walk. Nathan, however, didn’t care. He turned to Sonia with a bright, triumphant smile. “That’s even better, Sonia! Once the papers are signed and you and Dad get hitched, we’ll be a real family.” I looked at their joyous faces and thought: Laugh while you can. I went upstairs, packed my essentials, and headed for the door. As I reached the handle, Arthur grabbed my wrist. 2 “Are you really doing this?” Arthur demanded, his brow furrowed. “I told you, I’ll still take care of you. You’re still my responsibility.” He sighed, the weary sigh of a man burdened by a nagging wife. “We’re old, Claire. We’ve spent a lifetime together. Why cause a scene now?” He leaned in, offering a ‘compromise’ that made my skin crawl. “Look, I’ll spend Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with you. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday with her. Sundays, we’ll have a family dinner. How’s that?” Even though my heart had already hardened at the wedding, hearing those words felt like a physical blow to the chest. It wasn’t enough to humiliate me at the wedding. Now he wanted to schedule me like a chore, a “sister-wife” in my own home. “Do you really think you’re such a prize?” I pulled my arm away and laughed in his face. “You’re a stagnant, filthy man, Arthur. I don’t want you.” I knew Sonia. I knew her better than he did. Years ago, when I was pregnant with Nathan, I was an emotional wreck. The company—Harrison Global—was just starting. Arthur was working himself into a stomach ulcer, and I felt so guilty that I hired Sonia, a nutritionist, to help him manage his diet and health. Back then, she was already sending him suggestive texts. I had asked Arthur about it, and he had looked at her with genuine disgust. “I can’t stand women like that,” he’d told me. “One harsh word and she starts leaking tears. Claire, please, fire her. Get me someone who actually does their job.” But at the wedding, when I had asked him Why her?, he had completely rewritten history. “I tripped and hurt my ankle a few months ago,” he’d said. “We bumped into each other at the clinic. She burst into tears, terrified that I was seriously hurt. Seeing her cry for me… I realized she’d been waiting for me her whole life. I couldn’t fail her anymore.” Even Nathan, the boy I had raised with every ounce of my soul, stood by her. “Sonia used to be the nutritionist at my prep school,” Nathan added. “She was always so sweet to me. She actually cared if I was hungry or tired. Honestly, Mom, if you hadn’t fired her back then, Dad wouldn’t have been miserable for so long. You owe her.” Men always find a way to turn their betrayals into someone else’s debt. I moved into one of my private properties. Within the hour, the System pinged. [Status Update: ‘Ruined Reputation’ protocol has been activated.] The events of the wedding had leaked. A video of the seating arrangement and Nathan’s snub went viral on social media. People were eviscerating the three of them. Harrison Global’s stock began a slow, steady crawl toward the basement. Arthur’s PR team worked through the night, but it was like trying to hold back a landslide with a toothpick. The “Beloved Philanthropist” was now the “Cheating Scumbag.” Arthur didn’t see the warning signs. He saw an inconvenience. He barged into my new house, red-faced, demanding I issue a public apology to Sonia. “Tell them the wedding was your idea,” he barked. “Tell them Sonia isn’t a mistress—she’s the love of my life and you support us.” I leaned against the doorframe. “Why would I apologize for the truth? You brought your mistress on stage. You reap what you sow. Now, sign the papers.” I tossed the divorce agreement at his feet. I wanted it done before his downfall took my share of the assets with it. “What is this act?” Arthur sneered. “You leaked those videos, didn’t you? Sonia left a suicide note and vanished this morning because of the hate she’s getting. Is that what you wanted? To drive her away so I’d come crawling back? It won’t work.” His eyes were cold. “And watch your mouth. In this relationship, the one who isn’t loved is the interloper. That’s you, Claire.” I was about to retort when Nathan pushed his way inside. “Dad’s right! You’re the outsider now, Mom! Sonia is the one he loves!” He looked at me with pure vitriol. “Sonia is missing, and you’re sitting here acting like a queen. You’re cruel.” “So, in your mind, your own mother is the mistress?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I slapped Nathan across the face. Hard. Twice. I was glad I had already given up on them. If I hadn’t, that sentence would have killed me. “I carried you for nine months. I nearly died giving birth to you. And I raised a parasite who doesn’t know the meaning of loyalty,” I said, my voice cold as ice. “If you think I’m so terrible, then fine. I’m not your mother anymore. Go find Sonia. See if she’ll bleed for you the way I did.” Nathan’s face went pale. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “Enough!” Arthur yelled. “If you don’t apologize, you’re finished at the company. I’m stripping your title as Vice Chair.” 3 Harrison Global was built on my sweat, too. It was my child as much as Nathan was. Arthur thought he could use it as leverage. Then, the System chimed again. [Status Update: ‘Loss of Fortune’ protocol has been activated.] I looked at Arthur and smiled. Why would I want a seat on a sinking ship? I stepped forward and landed a blow on Arthur’s cheek that echoed through the room. “You don’t have to fire me. My resignation is already on your desk.” I leaned in close. “Are you going to sign the papers, or are you too pathetic to let me go?” In a fit of rage, Arthur scribbled his name on the divorce decree. “Fine! Get out! I hope you enjoy poverty. Let’s see how you survive without my name.” “Watch me,” I said. I don’t lose. I built Harrison Global into a powerhouse; I could do it again. The next time I saw them, I was celebrating the launch of my new firm at a high-end bistro. My old team—the ones who actually kept the lights on at Harrison—had all followed me. “Harrison Global is a mess,” one of my managers whispered. “They’re losing ten million a day. Stock is hitting the floor. Investors are pulling out. And Arthur? He’s too busy playing house with Sonia to notice.” As we left the restaurant, Arthur and Sonia were standing by the valet. “You think a few bad days mean I’m done?” Arthur laughed, though he looked haggard. “Nathan just closed a hundred-million-dollar contract yesterday. We’re fine.” He looked at me with pity. “Are you still waiting for those ‘curses’ to happen, Claire? Look at me. I have the woman I love. I’ve never been happier.” I didn’t bother arguing. I’d already heard from my sources that the “hundred-million-dollar contract” was a shell company setup—a classic bust-out trap. Arthur was so blinded by his ‘second youth’ that he was walking straight into a buzzsaw. As I walked toward my car, Sonia blocked my path. “Claire,” she said, her voice dropping its sweet facade. It was sharp, venomous. “I should thank you. You planted the tree, but I’m the one sitting in the shade.” She stepped closer, whispering so Arthur couldn’t hear. “You fired me all those years ago. You thought you won. But look at you now. You’re alone. And it’s not enough. You haven’t hurt enough yet for what you did to me.” My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, Sonia screamed and lunged toward the street. An oncoming SUV slammed its brakes, but it still clipped her, sending her sprawling onto the asphalt. “Sonia!” Arthur shrieked, rushing to her side. She coughed up a bit of blood, looking at me with a shattered, fragile gaze. “Arthur… don’t be mad at Claire. She’s just… she loves you too much. She can’t stand to share you. Please, don’t…” She fainted perfectly on cue. Arthur looked at me with pure loathing. “You tried to kill her? You’re a monster.” The next day, Arthur and Nathan showed up at my new office with a crew of thugs and trashed the place. “You tried to take Sonia’s life,” Arthur said, stepping over a shattered computer monitor. “I’m just taking your office. Fair trade, right?” I stood in the wreckage of my lobby and pulled out my phone. I didn’t call the police. I took the security footage from the bistro—the angle that clearly showed Sonia throwing herself into the car—and I bought the ad space on the giant digital billboard in the center of the financial district. Then, I tracked Sonia down at the hospital. I dragged her out of bed by her hair and slapped her until she was unconscious. “You want to play the victim? Now you have the bruises to match the story,” I whispered into her ear before the nurses arrived. When Arthur and Nathan tried to confront me again, pointing at the “assault,” I simply pointed at the billboard above them. The entire city was watching Sonia’s “accident” on a loop. “She’s just insecure, Claire,” Nathan stammered, his face turning a sickly shade of gray. “She didn’t mean it. Dad will pay for the office repairs.” “Get out,” I said. The divorce was finalized. Arthur married Sonia the very next day. They threw a lavish wedding to “prove” their love hadn’t been shaken. During the reception, my phone rang. An unknown number. “Claire,” Sonia’s voice came through, cold and mocking. “I remember you had a daughter who died in infancy. Daisy, right? I found her urn at the chapel. I thought… wouldn’t it be poetic to mix her ashes into the fireworks for tonight’s finale? To celebrate our new beginning?” 4 I drove to the chapel like a madwoman. The niche where Daisy’s ashes were kept was empty. My lungs seized. “Sonia, if you touch her, I will end you!” I screamed into the phone. Sonia just giggled. “Come to the wedding, Claire. If you’re fast, you might catch her before she goes up in smoke.” I burst into the ballroom, my hair disheveled, my eyes wild. “Where is she? Where are my daughter’s ashes?” Sonia stood there in her million-dollar gown, twirling. “Kneel. Beg me, and maybe I’ll give her back.” I didn’t hesitate. I fell to my knees in the middle of the dance floor, in front of the entire high society of the city. I begged. I couldn’t gamble with Daisy. “Good girl,” Sonia sneered, kicking my shoulder with her silk heel. “You’re more obedient than my poodle.” She pulled a small ceramic jar from behind a flower arrangement. My heart hammered against my ribs as I reached for it. “Oops,” she said. Her hand ‘slipped.’ The jar arched through the air and splashed into the deep end of the decorative pool. I dove in. The winter water was bone-chilling, but I didn’t care. I scrambled to the bottom, grabbed the jar, and climbed out, shivering and sobbing. “I’ve got you, baby. Mommy’s got you.” But the lid was gone. The jar was empty. Blackness swiped at the edges of my vision. The wedding march began to play. I stood up, dripping wet and hollowed out, and stormed toward the altar. “Arthur! Stop the music!” I screamed. “Cancel the fireworks! Now!” Arthur looked at me like I was a rabid animal. “Claire, enough. I offered you a place in our lives and you refused. Don’t ruin this day with your insanity.” “Mom, get out! You’re embarrassing yourself!” Nathan tried to grab my arm to haul me away. I slapped him so hard he stumbled. “There are ashes in those fireworks, Nathan! Your sister’s ashes! Sonia is going to blow her up! Don’t you care? She was your sister!” Sonia’s eyes turned red. “I would never… Arthur, why is she doing this to me on our wedding day?” “Liar!” I shrieked. “Daisy died of SIDS, Arthur! You cried for weeks!” I gripped his sleeve, my heart breaking all over again. “I don’t care if you love her. I don’t care if you stay married. Just give me my daughter back. Stop the fireworks!” “You’re a lunatic,” Arthur said, signaling the security guards. As they dragged me toward the exit, the first explosion rocked the night sky. BOOM. A burst of shimmering silver light. In the reflection of the glass doors, I saw Sonia’s face. She was smiling at me. A sharp, triumphant curve of the lips. The strength left my body. All that remained was a cold, obsidian hatred. [System Notification: ‘Incurable Disease’ protocol has been initiated.] I stared at Arthur and Nathan through the glass. “I hope you enjoy what’s coming.” Arthur sneered. “Seat her at the back. Let her watch how happy we are.” The ceremony reached the exchange of rings. Arthur reached for Sonia’s hand. Suddenly, his eyes went wide. He gasped, clutching his chest, as thick, dark blood began to leak from his eyes, his nose, and his ears. He collapsed onto the white carpet, convulsing.

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1 The day the Sterling family went bankrupt, everyone expected me to call off the engagement. Instead, in the pouring rain, I tossed my umbrella aside and helped a completely soaked and defeated Liam Sterling into my car. “I’ll give you a hundred million dollars. If you succeed, you come back and marry me. If you fail, I’ll marry you.” Five years later, Liam made a triumphant return, bringing three publicly traded companies with him. In front of all the media, he announced: “Chloe and I broke off our engagement five years ago.” — For those five years, another woman had been by his side. When he was tired, she offered her shoulder. When he was sad, she comforted him. When he succeeded, she applauded him. They supported each other through thick and thin; they shared the bitter and the sweet; they fell in love. The woman who had casually tossed a hundred million dollars to help him rebuild his empire had now become a complete joke. “Here is three hundred million. Consider my debt of gratitude repaid in full.” The successful Liam Sterling had shed the impulsiveness of his youth, becoming mature, steady, and incredibly sharp. Back then, I was mesmerized by his looks, begging my father like my life depended on it to give him one last chance. Just looking at him now, a possessive urge flared up within me. How pathetic of me. I picked up the card and handed it to my secretary standing behind me. I looked across the table expressionlessly, my tone freezing cold: “Go check the balance. If it’s short by even a single cent, it’s unacceptable.” Hearing this, I watched Liam let out a long breath, looking as if a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders. I admired my freshly manicured nails, asking casually: “Do you really think this makes us even?” At that, Liam straightened his back, his expression solemn: “If Ms. Vance ever needs anything in the future, just ask. I, Liam Sterling, will answer every request.” Then he immediately added: “Except marriage.” He said it with absolute sincerity, looking exactly like a man who deeply valued loyalty and honor. But I, it seemed, wasn’t feeling particularly appreciative. “Those emerald earrings you bought at the auction yesterday—I like them. Make sure they’re delivered to me tomorrow morning.” Liam had spent a fortune on those emerald earrings, supposedly as a gift for his fiancée, Mia. I wondered how certain people would react if they saw those earrings on me. Seeing him hesitate, I stood up and headed upstairs, saying without looking back: “If Mr. Sterling doesn’t keep his word, just consider what I said a joke.” The next day, my secretary placed the earrings on my vanity. I held them up to the light for a while. Icy green and crystal clear—truly beautiful. For tonight’s gala, I was wearing a classic, vintage-style evening gown. These earrings would be the perfect match. Liam attended with his fiancée, while I arrived alone. The whispers around me grew louder, entirely focused on why the gift Liam bought for his fiancée was dangling from my ears. Liam’s fiancée, Mia, was currently walking toward me with a bright, sweet smile. “Ms. Vance, Liam already explained everything to me. He used these earrings to repay you for your past kindness.” I took a sip from my champagne glass, turned my back, and had no intention of engaging with her. An ignorant, foolish woman wasn’t worth my energy. She wasn’t giving up. Her tone turned frivolous as she continued to provoke me: “Besides having money, Ms. Vance probably has no idea how to love someone, right? Otherwise, Liam wouldn’t have chosen me.” I looked at the half-empty glass in my hand, feeling it wasn’t satisfying enough. So, I picked up a piece of cake from the table and smashed it violently right into her smug face. “Ah~!” Her shriek drew the eyes of everyone in the room. Liam rushed over immediately, pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe the frosting off Mia’s face. While doing so, he aggressively interrogated me: “Why is Ms. Vance giving my fiancée such a hard time?” I dropped the cake plate, clapped my hands in disgust, and said indifferently: “She ruined my appetite.” Mia hid in Liam’s arms, tears streaming down her face, pressing tightly against his chest like a fragile, delicate little flower. “I just came over to tell Ms. Vance that I didn’t mind her taking my earrings. As long as it helps her vent her anger, I’m willing to do anything.” The moment she said that, my longtime rival, Sarah, crossed her arms and stepped in to play the hero: “Chloe is bullying people again. Using her family’s money to just steal other people’s things everywhere she goes.” Others quickly swarmed in, all condemning me for being an arrogant, domineering, and entitled rich brat. I kept the slight smirk on my lips, maintaining a perfectly polite smile, staring dead into Liam’s dark, unreadable eyes. After a long time. “Let’s go.” Liam carefully supported Mia as they left. Watching their retreating backs, I found it incredibly irritating. We were engaged at eighteen. Back then, Liam was outwardly flamboyant but actually quite reserved. His pale face would flush a youthful pink just from a teasing joke of mine. I loved teasing him—the kind of teasing a woman does to a man she likes. The day his family went bankrupt, it was as if he grew up overnight. His gaze became resolute, his entire being radiating an unyielding, stubborn resilience. I knew he would definitely succeed. I just forgot that once he succeeded, he might not remember our engagement. Do I regret it? I never do things I regret. I can help him rise, and I can also push him right back into the mud. From then on, wherever Liam appeared, I was there. If he tried to buy a plot of land, I would bid double his price and take it. If he bid on a project, I would undercut his price by half and win it. If he wanted to play the money game, Liam Sterling still had a long way to go. When I, Chloe Vance, was dominating this city, he was just struggling to survive in a small town with a mere hundred million dollars. Finally, Liam couldn’t take it anymore and came to my door alone to apologize. He stood in front of me, neither submissive nor arrogant: “Ms. Vance, doing this doesn’t benefit you either. No matter how rich the Vance family is, it can’t withstand this kind of reckless spending.” I heard it loud and clear: he was trying to tell me how to do things. I glanced behind him, calmly retracted my gaze, and asked: “Where is your fiancée? Isn’t she going to come apologize to me?” His lips pressed into a thin line, his body leaning forward slightly, his attitude sincere: “I apologize to you on her behalf for what happened that day. However, Ms. Vance was the one who threw the first punch. No matter what, both sides share the blame.” Then this apology was worthless. A smile played on my lips. I rested my forehead on my hand and sighed in mock regret: “I admit, I went a little too easy on her. You’d better tell her to stay far away from me. The next time I strike, it won’t be just a piece of cake.” Seeing that I was impervious to reason, Liam stopped compromising. His face darkened as he said: “Since Ms. Vance still refuses to let my fiancée go, then we have nothing left to discuss. We’ll see each other in the boardroom.” I leaned back on the sofa, crossed my legs, and looked down at him: “Great. I’ll be waiting.” After leaving my place, Liam started contacting heavyweights in various industries, trying to negotiate partnerships. But in this city, with just one word from me, no one dared to work with him. Plus, when the Sterling family went bankrupt, a lot of people were implicated. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to see him rise again. I didn’t expect Mia to be a social media influencer with ten million followers. She posted a video online, tearfully accusing me of industry monopolization and deliberately targeting Liam. She cried while detailing how incredibly difficult their entrepreneurial journey had been, drawing massive sympathy from netizens. When my secretary showed me the video, I laughed dismissively. I immediately pulled out my phone and called Liam: “Delete the video your fiancée posted within two minutes.” Liam said over the phone: “Everything she said is the truth.” “The truth?” My tone was absolute ice. “Are you sure you want to throw away your last shred of dignity?” Liam was silent for a moment: “I’ll have her delete it.” Only a few people in our inner circle knew that I had given him a hundred million dollars. If that got out on the internet, he would be the one humiliated. He was a businessman. After weighing the pros and cons, a fiancée was nothing. Noah grew up with me. The night Liam and I got engaged, he hugged the stone lion outside my front door and cried all night. The day the Sterling family went bankrupt, he spent tens of millions on fireworks, lighting up the sky all night long. He said: “I’m not doing this for you. I just genuinely despise that guy Liam.” So we colluded together, even though we also constantly bickered. That night, he asked me out to a club to relax and considerately ordered eight male models for me—all of them built like brick houses. After a few drinks, I completely let loose. With an older guy on my left arm and a younger guy on my right, I was having the time of my life. The waiter opened the door to the private room, and through my drunken haze, I thought I saw Liam’s annoying face. Yep, it was him. “Who called him here to ruin the mood?” I asked, annoyed. Noah considerately pulled down the hem of my dress, which had ridden up to my thighs, and bragged smugly: “I did. We needed someone to pour the drinks.” I looked at Noah, acting like a loyal lapdog, not understanding what he was playing at. Noah couldn’t wait to yell at Liam, who was standing by the door like a bouncer: “Are you blind? Hurry up and pour the drinks.” Then he whispered smugly in my ear: “He needs a huge favor from my dad right now. He doesn’t dare disobey me.” So Noah wanted to humiliate Liam. Was he doing it to vent my anger for me? I grudgingly accepted that explanation. While I was spacing out, Liam had already picked up a bottle, half-knelt in front of me, and filled my glass. Adaptable and resilient. That was the phrase that came to mind. The colorful, shifting club lights hit his sharp, handsome face. His eyes were unreadable, looking as if he had no desires whatsoever. Even in this situation, he still acted so high and mighty. I deliberately knocked the glass over. The liquor spilled directly onto his pristine, bright white shirt. His slightly furrowed brow betrayed his displeasure in that moment. “My bad. Pour another one.” The veins on the hand gripping the bottle bulged, his clenched jaw trembling slightly. Every subtle change screamed of his extreme restraint. I picked up the refilled glass, took a sip of the strong liquor—it burned a bit. I grabbed his white collar, yanking him forward, completely erasing the distance between us. So close, I could feel his warm breath hitting my face. I suddenly lunged my face forward. He instinctively turned his head to dodge. That move pissed me off. Unable to hold back, I spat a mouthful of liquor squarely into his face. The droplets slid down his chiseled face, disappearing into his collar, incredibly seductive. I grabbed a tissue from the table, calmly wiped my mouth, and tossed it at his face. “Sorry, couldn’t hold it in.” Liam suddenly stood up. The bottle in his hand was smashed furiously onto the floor, the flying glass shards cutting my exposed calf. “I already paid you the money back. Humiliating me like this is going a bit too far.” “Too far?” I looked at Noah. Noah immediately shook his head: “How is it too far? If you hadn’t helped him back then, who knows what bridge he’d be begging under right now.” I shifted my gaze back to Liam: “Did you hear that? The debt you owe me isn’t just money; it’s a massive favor!” I lifted my injured leg. The blood had already formed a distinct line. “Lick it clean, or I’m having you carried out of here horizontally.” Noah let out an “Ew,” looking completely disgusted: “Aren’t you grossed out?” I rolled my eyes at him: “What do you know? Saliva is antibacterial.” While we were going back and forth, Liam had already turned around, ready to leave. Noah’s bodyguards blocked the door, clearly unwilling to let him go so easily. A commotion erupted outside the door, and Mia burst in. Talk about perfect timing. She stood in front of Liam, posturing like a mother hen protecting her chick. “If you dare touch a single hair on Liam’s head, I swear I won’t let you get away with it.” 2 Looking at this woman, with her inflated sense of self-importance and absolutely zero fear, I laughed even louder. I took two steps forward and stood right in front of her. I reached out and patted her face lightly twice. Just as I was about to do it a third time, Liam grabbed my wrist. “Chloe, don’t push it.” Liam’s warning was blatant, his eyes shooting pure murder. I looked at Noah and asked innocently: “Am I pushing it?” Noah shook his head: “Not at all. Who told her to steal your man?” So I was the real victim here. One was the fiancé I hadn’t even officially broken up with yet, and the other was the woman my fiancé called his fiancée. This relationship was as convoluted as it gets. “Liam, don’t forget, our engagement was never officially canceled. Don’t you think it’s a bit much that you’re running around calling this woman your fiancée?” The light in Liam’s eyes dimmed, his voice raspy: “Our engagement became null and void five years ago.” He looked up, meeting my eyes directly: “You probably don’t know this yet, but when the Sterling family went bankrupt, your father was involved.” I didn’t believe it: “Then why did my father help you?” He looked down and gave a short laugh: “He was just playing a game of cat and mouse. Everyone in the Vance family is the same. Weren’t you also trying to figure out how to drag my father into the mud?” This guy… was he the worm in my stomach? How did he know what I was thinking? In the end, they still ended up fighting. I sat on the sofa, watching coldly. I watched Liam get beaten to the ground by the bodyguards. I watched him bleed from the corner of his mouth. I watched him get a gash on his forehead. Mia was protected underneath him; all she knew how to do was cry and beg for mercy. I hated weak, pathetic women the most, and I hated women who just cried and whined even more. Liam was carried out horizontally. Noah, in a rare display of kindness, had someone take him to the hospital. As he was leaving, he looked over at me. Our eyes met, and my heart skipped a beat. The broken look in his eyes, the messy hair, the bloody, wicked smirk on his lips—it was incredibly captivating. It reminded me of our senior year of high school, when we went to beat up the school bully together. I stood on the sidelines cheering him on, and encouraged by me, he hit harder and harder. I thought to myself back then, This guy is so feral. He’s exactly my type. All these years later, his wildness was deliberately hidden, replaced mostly by endurance and restraint. I wanted to find that man who had once made my heart race. I didn’t believe he had truly vanished. That teenage crush was always mixed with a heavy dose of sheer stubbornness and unwillingness to let go. But a few days later, that unwillingness transformed into absolute, burning rage. In an interview, Liam stated: “The engagement between Ms. Vance and me was canceled five years ago.” Reporters staked out my house, demanding to hear my side of the story. My side of the story was: “Liam Sterling took a hundred million dollars from me to rebuild his empire, and then—he abandoned me!” Half an hour later, headlines screaming “Liam Sterling is a Cheater” and “Mia is a Homewrecker” dominated the news. Mia posted the video of Liam’s injuries online, claiming I had violent tendencies, that I was emotionally unstable, and even that I was a psychopath. Later, she somehow acquired a medical document proving I had actually seen a psychiatrist. The war between Liam and me had only just begun. I changed into a sharp, professional suit and attended my company’s new product launch with a perfect smile. When reporters bombarded me with questions about the drama, I refused to answer or even mention it. “Please focus your attention on our company’s new products.” “Mr. Liam Sterling? I’m not very familiar with him.” “Ms. Mia? Never heard of her.” The gossip-hungry faces turned into masks of pure confusion. They probably really thought I had schizophrenia. We were just tearing each other apart, and now I’m “not familiar” with him? The more I acted like this, the higher the media attention spiked. For new products, controversy always drives sales. It worked out perfectly. Not only did I save a fortune on endorsement fees, but I successfully turned myself into a brand. In a VVVVIP suite at a private hospital, Liam lay in bed with his head wrapped in bandages, scrolling through the news on his phone. I sat next to him, quietly peeling a small apple. I peeled the entire skin off in one continuous strip without breaking it. It was actually quite satisfying. I shoved the apple in Liam’s face. “Eat it.” Liam affectionately patted my head, his eyes soft: “You eat it.” “Suit yourself.” I pulled my hand back and took a massive bite. Crisp, sweet, and actually pretty delicious. Just then, Mia’s loud complaining echoed from outside the door. “Let me in! I want to see how Liam is doing!” The bodyguard’s deep voice replied: “Mr. Sterling ordered that absolutely no one is allowed in.” Mia was unhappy: “Am I just ‘anyone’? I’m his fiancée!” The apple in my hand suddenly lost all its appeal. I tossed it straight into the trash can. I looked toward the door, my usual cold demeanor returning: “The actress you hired is getting a little too into character.” Liam put his phone down, his expression completely flat: “I’ll handle it.” Publicly, the more fiercely Liam and I fought, the more those people would believe he was truly isolated and helpless in this city. The collapse of the Sterling family involved a massive web of people, including members of the Vance family. By walking alone into the lion’s den, Liam was essentially putting everything on the line. To uncover the people who framed his family back then, he had to place himself right in the trap the hunters had set, waiting for them to show their hands and reveal themselves. I was a Vance, I was his fiancée, and I was the one who funded his comeback. Acting as his mortal enemy was the greatest protection I could offer him. The day Liam was discharged from the hospital, reporters completely mobbed the entrance. “Mr. Sterling, were your injuries caused by Ms. Vance?” Mia, standing next to him, looked righteously indignant: “She hired people to do it! That woman is pure evil!” Liam just smiled and didn’t say a word, silently confirming Mia’s accusation. I was sitting in a black Porsche Cayenne parked a distance away, watching the entire scene unfold. My phone suddenly rang. I looked down—it was the main estate. My father wanted me to attend an internal meeting of the major families. The time was set for tonight. Normally, I never got the chance to attend these kinds of gatherings. The only reason he was letting me go today was because the feud between Liam and me had blown up to such a massive scale. Tonight’s main agenda was discussing how to deal with Liam and force him out of the city. The key figures from the Vance, Hayes, and Miller families were all present. Noah and I were the only ones from the younger generation. It seemed the Sterling family’s downfall was indeed highly complex. I kept my head down the entire time, not speaking a single word. When it was over, my father suddenly asked me: “Chloe, what are your thoughts?” Earlier, my father had said he wanted me to use the engagement to pressure Liam, preferably to marry him and tie our interests together. He never trusted the sincerity of the Hayes and Miller families’ cooperation, nor did he believe Liam would spare the Vance family out of nostalgia. He only believed in the immediate, tangible profits right in front of him. I didn’t have the power to defy his orders yet, so I could only obediently agree for now. I immediately texted Liam, telling him that if he had absolutely no other choice, he could agree to it temporarily. My father invited Liam to the Vance estate to “catch up.” Even if it was a deadly trap, he had to come. You have to enter the tiger’s den to catch the tiger cub. I sat to the side, listening to my father threaten Liam into marrying me. As one of the parties involved, I had no right to speak. Liam was resolute: “I will never marry Chloe Vance.” Even though I knew it was all an act, hearing those words still sent a dull ache through my chest. It felt like he was speaking from the absolute bottom of his heart. The man in front of me was aloof, dignified, and possessed an unbreakable spine. Even standing before my father, he was completely unyielding. If… I mean, if… maybe we really wouldn’t ever get married. With a single look from my father, eight bodyguards surrounded Liam from behind. All of them were highly trained professionals. It seemed he was tired of playing nice and was ready to use force. I couldn’t help but tense up, my hands secretly curling into tight fists. Two fists are no match for four hands. After a few exchanges, Liam was pinned to the floor. My father glared down at him coldly, radiating an oppressive, unquestionable authority. “Lock him up for now. Come tell me when he changes his mind.” Following the order, the bodyguards hauled Liam up to the secret room on the second floor. Watching them drag him upstairs, the heavy iron door slamming shut with a BANG sent my memories crashing back to my childhood. My mother was beaten to death in that exact room. I was once locked in there for three days and three nights. My mother’s crime was speaking a few extra words to the family driver. My crime was tutoring a male classmate and missing curfew. My father’s need for control was unimaginably extreme. I had been desperately trying to find a way to escape him for years. Just as Liam said, my father giving me a hundred million dollars back then wasn’t because my begging worked. It was to satisfy his twisted, sadistic amusement. He loved playing with people, watching them struggle and drown in the mud. The harder they fought, the happier he was.

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After being hit by a car, the doctor told me I had suffered a head injury and might experience amnesia. When I woke up, I jokingly asked the man sitting by my hospital bed who he was. He paused for a second, then replied that we were just friends. 1 I stared at Arthur, who had just uttered the words “just friends,” his face a mask of cold detachment. He definitely wasn’t joking. The words “Gotcha” died in my throat. I could only look at him in silence. I suspect if the hospital hadn’t called him directly, he wouldn’t even be here. But I didn’t question him. I just paused, then forced a polite, oblivious smile. “Oh, really? I’m so sorry to trouble you, then.” He gave a curt “Mm,” looking at his phone screen as if my presence was a massive inconvenience. “Since you’re awake, I’m heading out. Things to do at the office.” Before I could even process what was happening, he was on his feet and heading for the door. Just as he pulled the door open, perhaps driven by a microscopic shred of remaining conscience, he glanced back and tossed out a generic: “Get some rest.” The polite smile stayed plastered on my face until the door clicked shut. Only then did it drop, leaving me completely expressionless. No one knew Arthur and I were dating. We were college sweethearts. After graduation, we moved to the city together and both landed jobs as marketing strategists at a top-tier firm. We were young, but we knew the stigma around office romances, so we mutually agreed to keep our relationship a total secret. Four years later, we both got promoted to branch managers, leading competing teams. At that point, going public was even more out of the question. So, we remained a secret. I had hesitantly asked him a few times if we should just tell people—it wasn’t strictly against company policy—but he always brushed me off, changing the subject. Honestly, right now, I didn’t even know if we still counted as a couple. Well, today I got my answer. The doctor told Arthur I might have temporary amnesia, but also stressed there was nothing to worry about and I would recover quickly. Knowing all that, and knowing the logic didn’t add up, he still looked me in the eye and called us “just friends.” He obviously didn’t care what would happen when I “got my memory back.” He didn’t care if I actually had amnesia or if I was just messing with him. He had probably been wanting to break up for a long time. Makes sense. If we don’t break up, how can he officially pursue Chloe? 2 A woman’s intuition is more accurate than military radar. Even before this incident, our relationship had grown stale. We had been together for too long. From sophomore year of college to now, it had been seven years. We knew each other as well as we knew the lines on our own palms. He couldn’t hide any changes from me. The shift started when a new intern, Chloe Lee, joined his department. She was fresh-faced and pretty. Her last name was Lee. The HR rep who handles employee files once gossiped with me that in the ‘Father’s Name’ section of Chloe’s intake form, she wrote ‘Richard Lee’—the CEO of our company. A wealthy heiress slumming it in his department. At first, that was Arthur’s excuse for taking such good care of her. “I can’t exactly afford to offend her, can I? Besides, she’s practically a child. Totally not my type. You’re overthinking it.” I didn’t bother pointing out that this “child” was actually two years older than me. I accepted his excuse in silence. Later, I couldn’t tell if he just didn’t care enough to hide it, or if he genuinely wanted me to find out. About two weeks after Chloe started, I logged into a music streaming app Arthur hadn’t used in ages to find some background music for a presentation. I noticed he and Chloe were following each other. He hadn’t listened to music in two years because work had been so crazy. This was an account we shared back in college. We used to listen to music together all the time; our shared listening history was over 13,000 hours. Back then, he even made a playlist named after me. It was filled with cheesy love songs that reminded him of me, artists I liked, songs I shared on social media, and tracks he listened to when he missed me during our long-distance summer breaks… I checked. He had deleted that playlist. His recent listening history was filled with trendy K-pop songs—stuff he had zero interest in, but that Chloe listened to constantly. We work in marketing. I told myself he was just trying to stay updated on what younger demographics were into. I was just overthinking it. So I didn’t say a word. I just quietly logged out of his account. I’m the kind of person who doesn’t make a scene or throw accusations without hard evidence. After all, the person who wins the poker game is always the one who talks the least and hides their expressions the best. Of course, his “coincidences” and “shared interests” with Chloe didn’t stop there. In early February, his team took on a massive project. I was leading my own team out of state, handling a different campaign. I only heard rumors that the main client contact for his project, a British executive, was notoriously difficult to work with. After working a 14-hour day without even having time to eat, I tried calling him to ask how the project was going. He didn’t answer. Assuming he was busy, I shot him a text instead. He never replied. Later, I saw he had posted a team photo on his social media. Chloe was standing right next to him, flashing a peace sign and a brilliant smile. The project had clearly gone well. His caption read: “Know the enemy, know yourself.” Chloe posted the same photo with the caption: “A hundred battles, a hundred victories.” I clicked on his profile and saw he had changed his status to match hers. It was an inside joke, a shared moment of triumph that only the two of them understood. His previous status had been: “Sailing through the night, guided by the clear moonlight.” Because my name is Mia. Mia Claire. ‘Claire’ meaning clear moonlight. I don’t know if he thought of me for even a second when he erased our shared status. Probably not. Because he never returned my call, and he never replied to my text. But he did leave a comment on Chloe’s photo: “Eat something soon. Don’t ruin your stomach.” I rubbed my own empty, aching stomach, and turned off my phone. That was strike two. 3 I was discharged from the hospital three days later. The doctors kept me under observation and finally cleared me. I hadn’t received a single message from Arthur the entire time. Someone did, however, send a bouquet of Cappuccino roses—my favorite. Holding the flowers, I decided to give Arthur one last chance. Sitting in the hospital corridor, I called him. It rang for a long time before he finally answered. I kept my voice gentle. “Arthur, I’m being discharged today. Do you have time to come pick me up?” We both tacitly avoided mentioning the “amnesia” or the “just friends” incident. We pretended it never happened. He was silent. After a long pause, he said, “I’m sorry, Mia. I’m completely swamped right now. I can’t get away. Do you want me to call you an Uber?” “What are you busy with?” I asked calmly. He paused again. He was probably surprised; I was usually so understanding and rarely pressed him for details. I knew for a fact that our first quarter projects had just wrapped up. This was our downtime. But he claimed he was busy. He didn’t answer. I sighed and hung up the phone. When a man stops loving you, it’s incredibly obvious. I remember right after we graduated, I had a severe stomach virus at 3 AM. Before I passed out, I managed to call him. When I woke up, he was sitting by my hospital bed, his eyes red. He was wearing one slipper and one sneaker, and both were for the left foot. I couldn’t help but laugh weakly. He looked terrified, his eyes brimming with tears. “Don’t laugh. When I opened your door and saw you on the floor, my heart literally stopped.” “Next time, call 911 first! What if I hadn’t answered? It’s too dangerous.” I had smiled at him then, completely dependent and trusting. “But to me, you’re the safest option.” See? He used to care about me so much. We really did have a beautiful, genuine, passionate history together. Even though it was almost completely unrecognizable now, remembering those distant moments still brought a bitter, self-deprecating smile to my face. I shook my head and tossed the expensive bouquet into the nearest trash can. “Didn’t you like the flowers?” a voice asked from behind me. I turned around. It was a man I didn’t recognize. He pointed at the trash can and apologized. “I’m so sorry. My driver accidentally hit you yesterday. I brought you to the hospital and contacted your emergency contact, but I had an urgent meeting and had to leave.” “The flowers are a get-well gift. I’ve also taken care of all your hospital bills. I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience. If you need anything else, please let me know.” I let out a harsh, silent laugh. Even the flowers were from a stranger. I looked up, offering a polite, composed apology. “I’m sorry. I assumed someone else sent them.” I sighed internally. I have always been a reasonable, dignified person. But having good manners doesn’t mean I’m weak or easily manipulated. Arthur and I were completely, irrevocably done. 4 When I got back from the hospital, Arthur was already home. I unlocked the door and walked in. He was sitting on the sofa, the TV playing some variety show he had absolutely zero interest in. He was staring at his phone, texting someone, a soft smile playing on his lips. The screen’s glow illuminated his face. It was an incredibly tender look. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had seen that smile directed at me. I stopped in the entryway. He was so engrossed he didn’t even hear the door open. I finally called his name softly: “Arthur.” He dropped his smile instantly and looked up. My eyes fell on his hands. He reflexively locked his phone screen and placed it face down on the sofa. He looked at me, genuinely surprised. “You’re back?” That was the moment I finally broke into a real smile. Laughing at him, and laughing at myself. I looked at him gently, my tone distant and indifferent. “We need to talk.” Our breakup was highly “civilized.” We are both very pragmatic people. The entire process didn’t take long at all. We are mature adults; we value maintaining a facade of decency. When everything is laid bare, there really isn’t much left to discuss. It’s just a mutual, unspoken understanding. After I said “Let’s break up,” he didn’t ask why. He just stayed silent. I imagine, in that moment, he felt a profound sense of relief. After a long pause, he finally muttered an “I’m sorry.” I didn’t accept his apology. I just calmly outlined the logistics of our separation. My tone was flat, my expression completely devoid of sorrow. My reaction clearly surprised him. After I told him he needed to move out as soon as possible, he suddenly interrupted me. “Mia, you don’t seem sad at all.” He frowned, his eyes locked onto my face, scrutinizing me with intense curiosity, as if he genuinely couldn’t understand. Men are truly pathetic creatures. Even when he no longer loves me, even when this breakup is exactly what he wanted… seeing me so calm and unaffected bruises his ego. In his mind, I should have been crying hysterically, begging him to stay. Only then would his annoyance be mixed with a satisfying dose of superiority. I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing. I didn’t tell him I had already done all my grieving. I grieved when he ignored my messages but instantly commented on Chloe’s social media posts. I grieved when he deleted the playlist he made for me just so he could listen to the K-pop Chloe liked. I grieved when he stared at me while I was faking amnesia and told me we were just friends. And I grieved while he was lost in the thrilling, ambiguous tension of a new romance with Chloe, right under my nose. To me, he was like a benign tumor. It was there, it wasn’t immediately fatal, but I knew if I left it alone, it would eventually turn malignant and slowly drain the life out of me. There was nothing to fear. As long as it was still benign, I just needed to cut it out completely. The pain is temporary. I will heal. Before Arthur finished packing and left, I asked him one final, calm question. “Arthur, did you change your mind because Chloe is Richard Lee’s daughter, or simply because she is who she is?” He stopped in the entryway and looked back. He was just as tall and broad-shouldered as the day I met him in college, but his handsome face had lost its youthful innocence, replaced by a cold, calculating maturity. I always thought of him as that boy on the campus quad, his face red as he clumsily confessed his feelings to me. It wasn’t until this exact moment I realized that, somewhere along the line, he had morphed into a ruthless adult, meticulously weighing the pros and cons in a sea of corporate ambition. He paused for a long time before finally saying, “Mia, people always want to climb higher.” That single sentence made me laugh out loud. I respected him for being at least seventy percent honest. I looked at him and smiled, a genuine, sincere smile. “Arthur, then I wish you the best of luck. May you soar to the top and get everything you ever wanted.” His eyes lingered on my face. Deep in his gaze, there was a fleeting hint of melancholic regret. But that regret was microscopic compared to his burning ambition. Finally, he sighed and said, “Mia, don’t hate me.” I didn’t even bother replying. 5 The worst part about office romances is that even after you break up, you can’t just elegantly disappear from each other’s lives. No matter what happens, you still have to go to work. When my cab pulled up to the office building, I saw Arthur and Chloe. They weren’t alone; the rest of his team was there too. It was lunchtime. They were probably heading out to eat. Chloe was vibrant and animated, a bright, flirtatious smile on her face. She was walking backward, facing Arthur, gesturing wildly as she talked. Arthur had a soft smile on his lips, watching her with incredible tenderness. He kept an eye on the traffic and pedestrians behind her, gently pulling her arm to steer her away when she almost bumped into someone. It was a painfully familiar, yet entirely alien sight. After we broke up, he seemed genuinely happy. I stayed in the cab until they disappeared into the dim sum restaurant down the street. Only then did I look away. The cab driver looked at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes gleaming with gossip. “You got a crush on that tall, handsome guy?” I smiled and clarified, “That’s my ex-boyfriend.” The driver’s expression instantly shifted from gossip to agonizing awkwardness. He looked like he desperately wanted to comfort me but didn’t know how. I graciously let him off the hook. “It’s fine. It hasn’t affected me at all.” When I walked into the office, Emma saw me and her face lit up. “Mia! You’re back! You didn’t even let us come visit you in the hospital.” I smiled as I walked to my desk. “It was nothing major. Look, I’m perfectly fine. How’s the post-mortem on the Hong Kong project?” She followed me into my office, handed me a stack of printed reports, and then glanced nervously out into the bullpen. Seeing it was mostly empty, she leaned in and whispered, “Mia, before you look at the data, I need to tell you something.” I set the files down and looked at her. For some reason, she looked incredibly indignant. “Mia, you know Albert is transferring to manage the Nanjing branch next month, right? Everyone is saying the vacant Director position is basically a toss-up between you and Arthur.” “You two have been neck-and-neck in performance for years. I’m not trying to gossip, and honestly, if it came down to pure merit, whether you or Arthur got it, we’d all respect the decision.” “But… but…” She hesitated, biting her lip, looking like she was struggling to find the words. I smiled, my tone gentle. “It’s okay. It’s just us here. Tell me.” She took a breath and whispered, “A few days ago, I saw Arthur and that new intern, Chloe, hugging in the breakroom.” The rumor that Chloe was the CEO’s daughter was an open secret in the office. Emma was furious because she believed Arthur was playing dirty to win the promotion. I traced the edge of the report folder, suddenly fighting the urge to laugh. While I was sitting in a hospital bed, staring at my phone and wondering why Arthur had completely vanished, he was busy wrapping his arms around his new golden ticket. But it was entirely expected. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, and even had to comfort Emma. “It’s fine. HR decisions are made by upper management. We just need to focus on doing our jobs well. Whatever happens, happens.” Emma sighed heavily, and I lowered my head to review the data. When Arthur knocked on the glass door of my office, I was genuinely surprised. In my mind, even though our breakup was relatively peaceful and we hadn’t burned the bridge completely, that just meant I was a rational adult. It didn’t mean Arthur and I were suddenly going to be casual work buddies who could chat like nothing happened. Unless absolutely necessary, I assumed neither of us would want any private interaction ever again. Until I found out why he was there. He stood in front of my desk, tall and imposing. His eyes swept over me before he finally spoke. “Mia, I thought you would have resigned by now.” His tone sounded like a mix of friendly advice and a veiled warning. “Mia, we were together for seven years. Don’t accuse me of being ruthless. Albert leaves for Nanjing next month. One of us is going to take his place as Director.” “If I were you, I would start making other plans and finding an exit strategy.” I stared at him. I understood exactly what he was implying. He was absolutely certain he was going to get the promotion. He was telling me to quit. Because once he became Director, and his girlfriend was the CEO’s ‘daughter,’ he would inevitably force me out to avoid any awkward workplace gossip. This “warning” was his version of being “kind”—giving me a head start to find a new job. I could accept a man’s infidelity and his change of heart. After all, feelings are fragile and rarely survive being tested. But I never imagined he would completely abandon his basic humanity. I looked at him like he was a complete stranger. Under his gaze, I uttered my first curse word of the day: “Arthur, you are absolute garbage.” He took it in silence. 6 My first direct confrontation with Chloe happened a week after that conversation with Arthur. After breaking up with me, Arthur—who had insisted on keeping our relationship a secret for years because “office romances are bad”—went incredibly public with Chloe. I saw their disgustingly sweet posts on social media. Coworkers flooded the comments with congratulations. Only our mutual friends from college messaged me in shock, asking what happened. I didn’t reply to a single one. The day Chloe cornered me was a perfectly ordinary afternoon. The office was mostly empty; people were either out to lunch or napping at their desks. I was in the breakroom, grinding coffee beans. As the rich aroma filled the air, Chloe appeared behind me. I turned sideways to give her room to pass, but she didn’t move. She just stood there, looking me up and down with a highly suggestive smirk, and dropped the bomb: “I know you and Arthur used to date.” With her round, baby-doll face, she was shorter than me. I looked down at her calmly, raising an eyebrow in a silent, questioning expression. She looked up at me, her eyes slowly scanning my face. Disappointed that I didn’t give her the dramatic reaction she wanted, she paused before continuing: “I saw the playlist he named after you. And your matching statuses—’Sailing through the night, guided by the clear moonlight.’ Your secret relationship wasn’t as secret as you thought.” I remained silent, patiently waiting for her to finish. She said, “My… my dad really likes Arthur. You know how it is. Arthur is young, ambitious, mature, and driven. My dad says Arthur reminds him of himself when he was young.” “My dad wants to groom him for leadership. Arthur’s potential is limitless. And, conveniently, I really like him, and he likes me.” “Now we’re together. But Mia, your presence here is a bit of an eyesore. I strongly suggest you do the smart thing and resign.” That’s when I finally understood her game plan. First, a show of dominance, then a thinly veiled threat, and finally, a ‘helpful’ suggestion that I quit. I held my coffee cup, my expression perfectly calm, my tone even. I even let a small smile slip as I looked down at her. “Ms. Lee, any employee termination requires a formal HR process. I’m not sure if your little speech today is meant to fire me, or what.” “If you’re trying to fire me, company policy dictates that HR needs to schedule a formal meeting and provide me with valid grounds for termination.” Her face went pale, then flushed red. Perhaps she hadn’t expected me to be so unyielding. Before turning to leave, I watched her expression falter and added one final detail: “Oh, by the way. Any personnel changes regarding managers or higher require the direct, personal approval of the CEO. Which means, the only person in this entire company who can fire me… is the CEO. Ms. Lee, you are merely an intern in Arthur’s department. I think you’re overstepping your bounds.” I didn’t stick around to watch her face contort. I took my coffee and walked out. Not long after my little chat with Chloe, Albert’s official transfer notice to the Nanjing branch was announced. Before he left, the CEO hosted a farewell banquet. The entire management team was required to attend—all the department heads. We all knew that besides saying goodbye to Albert, this dinner would also serve to announce the critical leadership changes at headquarters. When the HR manager dropped the invitation on my desk, Emma was the only one who looked physically ill. I had personally mentored her. She leaned over my desk, first cheering me on, and then saying with absolute solemnity: “Mia, no matter what happens, our entire team has your back. If things go south here, we’ll all leave with you and go somewhere else.” I laughed, lightly tapping the invitation against her forehead. My voice was gentle. “What are you talking about? It’s just a dinner. Did you forget my life motto?” “When you hit water, build a bridge. When you hit a mountain, carve a path. What’s there to be afraid of?” Besides, the person who was going to lose this battle… definitely wasn’t going to be me.

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1 For a limited-time in-game event, my fiancé and his childhood rival, Isabelle, decided to pretend to be a couple. They agreed to “break up” after a week, but Isabelle kept pushing the boundaries. “Come on, Nathan, don’t tell me you’re getting soft. How about a real bet?” she taunted. “A lifetime pact. The first one to back out is a coward!” Just when everyone, including me, thought Nathan would quit the game for my sake, he gritted his teeth and refused to back down. He even raised the stakes, escalating their fake relationship from a couple to a married couple. For the next five years, Nathan spent every Christmas with Isabelle and her family. This year was no different. I looked at the latest text from my father. [Can you bring Nathan home this year? I’m afraid I might not be around to see next Christmas.] I clutched my phone, looking up just as Nathan walked in, arms full of holiday gifts. He held up a few different shirts against himself. “What kind of shirt do you think Mr. Hayes would like?” When I didn’t answer, he mumbled to himself, “Forget it. Asking you is useless. I’ll just ask Isabelle.” Watching his back as he happily sorted through the items, I opened a chat window I hadn’t touched in a long time. I typed and deleted the words several times before finally hitting send. [Do you still mean what you said? Come home with me for the holidays this year.] … The moment the message sent, a series of question marks popped up in response. [You’ve made up your mind? I’ll be there. Wait for me!] The screen went dark. I managed a weak smile and called my dad. “Dad, I’m bringing my boyfriend home for Christmas this year.” My voice was quiet, but Nathan, trying on clothes, overheard. He snatched the phone from my hand, hung up, and snapped, “We already agreed I’m spending the holidays at Isabelle’s. What are you telling your dad now?” I calmly took my phone back, my face impassive. “Nothing.” He seemed to sense my mood, his complaining tone softening as his gaze settled on me. “I know what you’re thinking, but spending Christmas at Isabelle’s was part of the deal from the beginning.” He puffed out his chest, a look of pride in his eyes I’d never seen before. “If I win, Isabelle has to sign over her entire company to me.” I stared at him for a long moment, then spoke. “Nathan, you don’t need the money, do you?” He stiffened, his brow furrowing. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re usually not this talkative.” Before I could reply, his phone, sitting on the table, rang. I glanced at the screen and saw the caller ID: [My Dearest Wife]. Nathan quickly silenced the call, a flicker of discomfort on his face. “Isabelle was just messing with my phone.” My fingers curled into my palm. A bitter taste filled my throat. The silence in the room was heavy. Nathan ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then pointed to the bags on the floor. “These are for your dad, so you can’t say I don’t care,” he said. “I’m going to marry you eventually. The holidays are just a formality. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” With that, he disappeared into the bedroom to return the call. I looked at the “gifts.” Stale crackers, raw peanuts still covered in dirt. All cheap, thoughtless items you could buy for a few dollars at a corner store. My dad’s health had been failing for years; he couldn’t eat any of this. A sourness welled up in my eyes. I remembered the first time I brought Nathan home years ago. My father was so happy. The frail old man seemed to come alive that day. He even gave Nathan the family heirloom, a vintage watch passed down through generations. All my father wanted was for us to visit him in his small mountain town every year, to see us get married before he passed. But even that simple wish was too much to ask. I took a deep breath and faced the bedroom door. “Nathan, let’s break up…” My words were cut off by the sound of a key in the lock. The front door swung open, and Isabelle walked in as if she owned the place. She had a key to my home. She saw me and her brow tightened slightly. “Serena? I’m here to pick up Nathan to go gift shopping.” My face hardened. I stared at the key in her hand. “Why do you have a key to my apartment?” Nathan came out of the bedroom at the sound of her voice. “I had one made for her,” he said casually. “Sometimes you’re working late and not home, so Isabelle stays over in the guest room.” The anger inside me burned hotter. “This is my home, Nathan!” I hissed. “Did you even bother to ask me?” He didn’t explain. He just picked up his keys from the sofa, grabbed a box of expensive, rare ginseng from the cabinet, and handed it to Isabelle right in front of me. I shot out a hand to stop him, my teeth clenched. “That’s from my company. It’s for my dad, for his health.” Nathan impatiently shook my hand off. “Your dad’s health is already bad; this won’t save him. It’s better to give it to Isabelle’s father.” He added dismissively, “I’ll get you something better next time.” Isabelle accepted the ginseng with a sweet smile, turning to me. “Don’t be so dramatic, Serena. Once Nathan concedes the game, I’ll be sure to reimburse you for all your expenses over the years.” Nathan chuckled at that, playfully flicking a strand of Isabelle’s hair. “Who’s going to concede? I’m in this for life.” They slammed the door behind them, and the gust of wind that swept through the apartment chilled me to the bone. 2 Nathan and I had been together for nearly a decade. But in everyone else’s eyes, Isabelle was the one who truly deserved him. Five years ago, on Nathan’s birthday, I had a custom-made ring in my pocket, ready to propose. Isabelle was there, of course. The moment they saw each other, the bickering began, starting with truth or dare and escalating to drinking games. Nathan had eyes for no one but her. Then, Isabelle slammed her hand on the table, pulled out her phone, and opened an official event page for an online game. Couples who entered together could win limited-edition character skins. “Nathan, you in? Don’t tell me you’re scared!” The crowd roared, caught up in the excitement. My friend nudged me with her elbow. “Serena, you’re not going to say anything? You’re just going to let this happen?” Someone overheard and laughed. “Come on, Nathan would never agree. He and Serena have been together forever. They’re practically engaged.” Everyone thought so. So did I. But in the next second, Nathan slid his own phone across the table to face Isabelle. “Game on.” The smile on my face froze. I grabbed his arm. “Nathan, what do you think you’re doing?” He finally seemed to notice I was there. He opened his mouth to speak, a flash of regret in his eyes, but Isabelle just laughed and threw her hands up. “Relax, Serena. It’s just a game. The pairing automatically dissolves in a week,” she said smoothly. “You two are getting married, right? Don’t you trust him even a little?” Her words seemed to fuel Nathan’s impatience. He pushed me away. “It’s my birthday. Don’t ruin the mood.” His words plunged me into an icy abyss. The people around us exchanged awkward glances, the atmosphere turning frigid. I fought to keep my voice from trembling. “What game? Tell me. We’re the real couple. I can…” Nathan waved his hand dismissively. “You can’t. You don’t even know how to play. All you ever do is bury yourself in your boring design drafts.” My hand in my pocket clenched tighter, the engagement ring digging a sharp pain into my palm. “You’re really going to do this? You have a girlfriend, but you’re going to be a ‘couple’ with someone else?” At that, his face turned ugly. “What’s that supposed to mean, Serena!” he yelled, and then he smashed the cake I’d carefully prepared right in my face. “You just wanted to ruin my birthday, didn’t you? Fine, then we won’t celebrate!” That night ended in disaster. I drank until morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to break up with him. I couldn’t just throw away years of history. Even my dad told me to let it go, saying all couples have their little fights. But it wasn’t little. From a fake couple, they became a fake married couple. And every year, Nathan used that game as an excuse to spend Christmas with Isabelle. This year marked the fifth year of their game. Five years of them chipping away at every last bit of my love for him. I never gave him the ring. My phone screen lit up. It was another text from my dad. [Sweetheart, you and Nathan have been together for a decade now, haven’t you?] [Will Dad get to see you two get married?] Tears blurred my vision, dripping onto the screen. [Dad, I will get married. Just not to him.]

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