Category: English

When my little brother’s pre-school physical revealed his blood type didn’t match ours, my dad demanded a divorce. A paternity test proved it: my brother was my mother’s child, but not my father’s. He was my “half-brother.” The boy I had called “little brother” for seven years was actually my uncle. It turns out that when the precious, only son becomes a cosmic joke, the neglected daughter can suddenly become the golden child. 1 The year my mom was pregnant with my brother, the incense burning in front of the fertility shrine in our living room never went out. When the ultrasound revealed it was a boy, my dad went up and down the hallway handing out cigars to everyone he saw, his voice booming so loud the whole apartment building could hear: “The Miller family finally has an heir!” My bedroom was cleared out and painted sky blue. A corner of the living room was sectioned off with an old bedsheet, and that became my new “bedroom.” My mom pointed at my faded stuffed animals and elementary school certificates: “Throw this useless junk out. Don’t let it take up my son’s space.” After my brother was born, his nickname became “Precious.” As for me, growing up, they mostly referred to me as “that girl,” or they just didn’t address me at all. At the dinner table. My mom would pick the vegetables my brother didn’t like out of his bowl and drop them into mine. “Eat this, it has the same nutritional value.” If my brother threw a tantrum and knocked something over, I was the one who got yelled at for not cleaning the table fast enough. When my brother was in kindergarten and wanted a two-hundred-dollar motorized toy car, they bought it without blinking an eye. When I was in middle school and wanted a thirty-dollar study guide, I had to listen to her complain about it for half a month. “All you know how to do is waste money! What’s the point of a girl studying so much? I think finishing middle school is enough for you. Mrs. Henderson next door is hiring at her salon; you should go learn a trade and start earning money to help out the family.” My dad, whose eyes rarely left the TV, chimed in: “Your mother is right. What’s the point of three years of high school? Better to start working early. In a few years, find a decent family to marry into, and our job is done.” I stared blankly at the only family portrait in our house. It was taken for my brother’s 100-day celebration. I was standing on the far edge, smiling a smile that looked worse than crying. In the future they planned for me, I was a straight, downward-sloping line. Drop out, work menial jobs, get married, and use my fleeting value to feed this family that revolved entirely around my brother. 2 This continued until the summer after I graduated middle school. My brother was getting ready to start elementary school. The results of his school enrollment physical came out on a Thursday morning. During lunch, my dad slammed the piece of paper down hard onto the glass dining table. My brother stopped whining for lobster. Startled, he dropped his spoon into his bowl, splashing rice water everywhere. “Our son is type AB,” my dad said, glaring at my mom. “I’m type A, you’re type O. Tell me, how exactly did we produce an AB child?” “What are you yelling for?! You’re scaring our Precious!” Having a son gave my mom all the power in the house, so she no longer bothered to hide her domineering and unreasonable nature. “Is it that young guy who moved in downstairs? I’ve noticed that ever since he moved in, you dress to the nines just to take out the trash.” “Bullshit! The test results must be wrong.” My mom looked at the lab report. She said it was a mistake, but her fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the tablecloth tightly. “I took him to get tested myself.” My dad yanked my brother, who was now crying in fear, toward the door. As he passed the kitchen and saw me washing dishes, he barked, “You come too.” After the test, my mom quickly coaxed my brother into his room. As the door closed, I could hear his quiet sobs. Having been spoiled since birth, he had never seen our parents act like this. I went to the balcony to take the clothes out of the washing machine and hang them up. In the living room. My mom was sitting with her legs crossed, cracking sunflower seeds. She spat the shells all over the floor, spit flying everywhere as she ranted: “When that stupid report comes back, I’m definitely suing that garbage clinic. They’re going to pay me tens of thousands for emotional distress.” “And you, Richard Miller, don’t think you’re getting away with this easily!” My dad didn’t say a word. He just chain-smoked, one cigarette after another, until the ashtray looked like a small mountain. 3 The report wouldn’t be ready until Monday afternoon. The entire weekend, my dad chain-smoked until the apartment was choked with smog, and my mom lost all her usual patience for my brother’s crying. On Saturday afternoon, my best friend from middle school asked me to go to the bookstore with her to pick out some high school study guides. It was the only thing I had been looking forward to all summer. Just as I was about to head out, my brother charged at me like a little cannonball and hugged my leg. “Sister, play with me! I want to play Ultraman fighting monsters!” “Sister has to go out for a bit. I’ll play with you when I get back tonight, okay?” “No! I want to play right now!” His mouth puckered, and he started to wail. My mom poked her head out of the kitchen, her face dark. “Where are you running off to now? If your brother wants you to play with him, then play with him. All you know how to do is run wild outside. Do you have any idea how to be an older sister?” “Mom, you promised I could go to the bookstore with my friend. And it’s just for a little while…” “What promise?! Do you not see what’s going on in this house right now? Stop causing trouble.” she wiped her hands and walked over. “You stay home and watch your brother.” The last flicker of hope in my heart snapped and died. My mom turned and went back to the kitchen. I took a deep breath, crouched down, and tried to reason with my brother. He casually grabbed an orange and threw it at my face. “Troublemaker!” “Leo, if you keep acting like this, I’m going to get mad!” “You wouldn’t dare! Just you wait.” As he yelled, he ran toward the “bedroom” separated by the old bedsheet. My heart tightened, and I chased after him. “What are you doing?” Too late. He ducked under the sheet and immediately spotted the manila envelope sitting next to my pillow. Inside was my acceptance letter to City High School. It was the proof of my hard work, earned over countless nights studying amidst the blaring TV and my brother’s crying. “What’s this?” He picked it up curiously. “Put that down! You can’t touch that!” My voice cracked. Seeing my panic only egged him on. He deliberately held the envelope high, a nasty smirk on his face. “Mommy, Daddy! Sister’s hiding something good!” “Give it to me!” I lunged to grab it back. “No, I won’t! Garbage from a money-drain!” Under my horrified gaze, his two small hands grabbed both ends of the envelope and pulled hard. Riiiiiiiiip— The sound of tearing paper felt like a knife slicing into my heart. The paper with my name on it, my only hope for the future, was torn clean in half. Still not satisfied, he ripped it a few more times, letting the pieces fall around his feet like snow. I stared at the shreds on the floor, my mind buzzing. Months of endurance, grievance, and my faint hope for the future were torn to shreds in an instant. “Ah!” I let out a low, guttural roar that I didn’t even recognize as my own. I charged at him, shoved him hard to the floor, pinned him down, and rained punches on him. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” My brother was stunned for a second before erupting into earth-shattering wails. “WAAAAAH… Mommy! Sister’s hitting me! Mommy, help!” My mom rushed in. Seeing me on top of my brother, her eyes instantly turned red. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and violently yanked me off him. The immense force sent me stumbling backward into the bed frame, the back of my head throbbing with pain. “Are you out of your mind?! How dare you hit your brother! It’s just a stupid piece of paper; so what if he tore it?! Do you really think you’re going to that useless high school? Let me tell you, no way in hell! You vicious little brat. He’s your own brother!” My brother hid behind my mom, crying while simultaneously making faces at me. There wasn’t a single tear on his face. My mom hugged him tightly, checking him for injuries, cooing endlessly: “Don’t cry, Precious. Mommy’s here. Mommy will hit her! This jinx, daring to touch my son!” My arms hurt, my scalp was burning, but none of it compared to the gaping hole in my chest. Hearing the noise, my dad came in from the balcony. He just frowned and yelled impatiently, “What’s all this racket? Haven’t we got enough problems?” Then, his gaze swept over the torn paper on the floor without lingering for a second, and he turned right back around to stare out the window and smoke. The smoke blurred his back, and it blurred the last shred of hope I had for this family. Amidst my mother’s cursing and my brother’s smug looks, I picked up the pieces, one by one. Using clear tape, I carefully pieced them back together. 4 The paternity test results came out on Monday. My dad went to get them alone. After I finished cleaning the apartment, making sure it was spotless, I walked up to my mom. “Mom, school’s about to start. Can you lend me the tuition and meal money for the first semester of my freshman year?” “Didn’t I tell you? If you dare to go to that money-wasting high school, you have to earn every penny yourself.” Just as I was about to promise to pay her back double next semester, the front door opened. My dad had a file folder in his hand. “Here, let me see.” My mom walked over, looking triumphant. My dad dodged her hand, threw the envelope onto the coffee table, and patted me on the shoulder. “Good girl, go back to your brother’s room for a bit.” “…Okay.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I was their biological daughter. But a part of me felt a strange sense of disappointment. I cracked the door open slightly, a bad feeling creeping over me. My dad ignored my mom, walked straight over to my brother, and squatted down in front of him. “Don’t ever call me ‘Dad’ again.” WAAAAH— My brother burst into tears. My mom snatched up the report, her eyes scanning the paper before locking onto a specific section. “This is impossible…” her lips trembled. “It’s right there in black and white.” My dad stood up. “He’s your biological brother. Your half-brother.” My brother’s crying grew louder, and for the first time, my mom screamed at him. “Stop crying! Are you mourning the dead?!” The room fell terrifyingly silent. My mom stared blankly at my dad, her lips moving as if trying to digest those words. Suddenly, like she had been struck by lightning, she stared at my brother huddled in the corner of the sofa. Her gaze was no longer filled with its usual doting love. She walked toward him, step by step. She crouched down in front of him and rubbed her fingers hard against his face, like she was inspecting a strange object. “Half… brother?” she repeated. “Then… then where is my son? The son I carried for nine months?!” “Mommy, that hurts.” My brother was terrified and tried to pull away, but she grabbed his shoulders tightly. Her nails dug into his soft flesh, drawing blood. “Where is my son?!” Her voice pitched up, sharp and piercing. “I gave birth to a boy! Where did he go?!” “Stop screaming!” My dad smashed the ashtray on the floor. “Go to your sister’s house and ask your brother’s real mother!” It was my aunt’s turn to host my grandmother this month. When we knocked on the door and my aunt saw our entire family standing there, she was completely confused. Before she could say a word, my mom marched into the house and dragged my grandmother, who was prepping vegetables, out of the kitchen. My grandmother stumbled, the vegetables scattering across the floor. “Oh my, what’s going on? Are you trying to kill an old woman?” My mom pulled my brother forward and shoved him in front of my grandmother. My brother’s voice was hoarse from crying. He sat on the floor and hugged my mom’s leg. “Mommy, don’t leave me…” “Here, here, don’t cry. Come to Auntie.” My aunt’s health was poor, and she hadn’t been able to conceive for years, so she was especially fond of my brother. “If your mommy doesn’t want you, Auntie wants you.” My aunt was probably secretly planning to rely on my brother to care for her in her old age if she really couldn’t have kids. “Sis, whether you or I want this kid, we have no choice but to take him.” My mom scoffed coldly, clutching the crumpled report as she walked toward my grandmother. “What do you mean?” my aunt asked, confused. “Because he’s our mother’s son.” My aunt almost laughed out loud. She hugged my brother and wiped his tears. “Precious, look, your mommy is throwing another tantrum at Grandma. Let’s ignore her. I’ll take you to get KFC.” My mom ground her teeth, trying desperately to suppress her rage. “Mom, why aren’t you saying anything?” All the color drained from my grandmother’s face. 5 “Mom, say something!” My aunt looked back and forth between my grandmother and my mom, finally realizing something was very wrong. “When I gave birth to him in the countryside, you were the only one there.” My mom’s voice started to shake. “You said the baby inhaled amniotic fluid and needed to be resuscitated… You said he was saved, but his health was weak, and you told me to rest and recover while you took care of him…” My grandmother’s eyes darted around, her lips moving, but she couldn’t offer an explanation. My aunt, holding a struggling Leo, stepped aside and handed me her phone. “Quick, call your Uncle Mark. Before they start fighting.” “No wonder you suddenly insisted on going to stay with your friends for a few months! Dad is dead! Whose bastard is this?!” My mom grabbed my grandmother’s shoulders and shook her violently. “Where did you put my son?!” “I, I…” My grandmother closed her eyes, tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. “You what?!” My dad roared. “If anything has happened to my son, I’ll make you pay with your life!” My grandmother’s knees gave out. She collapsed onto the floor, curling into a ball. “I, I left him… left him in the countryside.” “Left him in the countryside?” my mom repeated softly. “You sent my son away? And swapped him for your… your bastard?!” My grandmother knelt there, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. My mom lunged at her. “Where is my son?! Tell me!” Seeing this, my aunt plastered an awkward smile on her face, trying to ease the tension: “Sis, calm down. Mom, this has to be a mistake. Look how old you are, this is absurd.” My aunt’s voice grew weaker and weaker, until she saw her savior finally arrive.

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I announced my pregnancy over Christmas Eve dinner, my voice thick with a joy I thought we all shared. My mother didn’t offer a toast. Instead, she set her wine glass down with a clinical click and looked at my husband. “Nathan, I should find you a young, healthy live-in nanny,” she said, her voice eerily calm. Nathan nearly choked on his brisket. I felt the color drain from my face. “Riley’s always been a bit lazy,” she continued, picking at her salad. “Now that she’s pregnant, she’ll be even more useless around the house. A young girl could handle the chores—and, you know, take care of your other needs. It’s only natural. Why should you have to suffer just because Riley’s all cooped up and bloated?” “Mom!” I slammed my fork onto the table, the silver clattering against the china. “What the hell kind of joke is that?” She looked at me, her eyes narrowing into cold, dark slits. “I’m not joking. What man stays faithful during a pregnancy? Your father was out running around the second I started showing with you. All men cheat, Riley. What makes you think yours is some kind of saint?” A wave of hot, silent fury crested in my chest. Just because her husband was a coward didn’t mean mine had to be. … Nathan looked like he wanted to crawl under the floorboards. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and reached across the table, lacing his fingers tightly through mine. “Lydia, please don’t test me,” he said, his voice trembling but firm. “I love Riley. I would never dream of doing anything to hurt her.” My mother’s smile didn’t just fade; it curdled. I saw the flash of pure, unadulterated envy in the depths of her eyes. “My poor, naive son-in-law,” she sighed, sounding almost pitying. “Riley’s already betrayed you. Why should you stay loyal to her?” I stared at her, my mouth falling open. “Mom, what are you talking about? I’ve never—” She reached into her vintage leather handbag with the practiced grace of a magician and pulled out a yellowed, crinkled piece of notebook paper. She slid it across the tablecloth toward Nathan, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “This is the love letter Riley wrote to a boy in high school. I intercepted it. I made a hundred copies and plastered them all over the school hallways myself.” She looked at Nathan with a sick kind of triumph. “She was eighteen, throwing herself at boys. I would never have done something so shameless. It proves that mentally, Riley was never ‘pure’ for you. She was used goods long before you met her.” She let out a sharp, jagged laugh. “I was a virgin on my wedding day and I still got treated like dirt. A girl like her? You shouldn’t be putting her on a pedestal. You should be looking for someone better.” I gripped the edge of the table so hard my fingernails bit into the wood. The room seemed to shrink, the air turning heavy and stale. I don’t have it, so why should you? That had been the mantra of my childhood. “I didn’t have a bra at your age, why should you? Just wrap a cloth around it,” she’d say. Or, “I never had fancy pads; I used rags. Figure it out yourself.” I grew up without new clothes, without basic hygiene products, without dignity. When I was eighteen, a boy in my chemistry class noticed I was struggling. He had seen the bloodstain on my skirt one afternoon and, red-faced and stuttering, had shoved a bag of tampons and pads into my locker the next day. He told me if I ever needed anything, to just ask. I was so moved I wrote him a thank-you note. A simple, heartfelt letter of gratitude. My mother found it and twisted it into a confession of lust. She told me I was a whore, that he only bought me those things because I’d slept with him. She dragged me to a clinic for a physical exam. When the doctor confirmed my hymen was intact, she didn’t look relieved. She looked devastated. But she recovered quickly. “Physically a virgin? Maybe,” she had spat. “But you’re a slut in your heart. You’re worthless, Riley. You were born for a man like your father—a piece of trash.” She had edited my thank-you note, adding graphic, desperate sentences, and then she’d destroyed my reputation at school. The boy never spoke to me again. My teachers looked at me with disgust. I was an outcast until the day I left that town for college. I worked hard. I built a career. I made more money than she ever dreamed of. She eventually apologized, claiming she was just “protecting my future” from teenage distractions. I thought she had changed. I thought she finally loved me. Nathan finished reading the “letter” and looked at my mother like she was a dangerous lunatic. “Lydia, I don’t care if this is real or if it happened twenty years ago,” he said, pushing the paper away. “I don’t live in the past. I live for our future. Riley makes me happy, and I am never going to betray her.” He squeezed my hand. The ice in my veins began to thaw under the warmth of his grip. My mother’s face twisted. Nathan’s loyalty was an insult to her. She couldn’t break him, so she turned her sights back on me. “How far along are you, Riley?” she asked, her voice dangerously sweet. “Nearly four months,” I replied, my guard up. She let out a long, satisfied breath. “Four months… hmmm. You’ll be getting the marks soon.” She leaned in, her eyes bright with a terrifying excitement. “The stretch marks. God, they’re coming for you, Riley. My stomach was ruined because of you. Deep, purple gashes that never went away. Your father couldn’t even look at me. He called me ‘mutilated.’ Just wait until you’re covered in them. Nathan won’t be so sweet then.” A cold shiver raced down my spine. This wasn’t a mother talking to a daughter. This was an enemy savoring a victory. Why did she want me to be ugly? Why was she praying for my husband to stray? She wouldn’t stop. She was animated now, her hands fluttering as she spoke. “The marks are just the beginning. Your hair will fall out in clumps. Your skin will blotch. You’ll leak when you sneeze, you’ll be loose, you’ll be repulsive. He won’t want to touch you. He’ll find someone who hasn’t been ‘ruined.’” Even Nathan, the most patient man I knew, snapped. “Lydia, stop. That’s enough.” “It won’t be like that,” Nathan continued, his voice hard. “I’ve already booked Riley into a luxury postnatal retreat for after the birth. We have a top-tier doula and specialists to help her recover. She’s going to be fine. And even if her body changes, I’ll only love her more for the sacrifice she made. I would never leave her.” My mother froze. Her eyes went blank, as if she were processing a language she didn’t understand. I expected her to scream. I expected her to wail about how she never got a postnatal retreat, so why should I? But she didn’t. She just sat there, robotically spooning potatoes onto Nathan’s plate, whispering, “Eat, you need to eat.” In her eyes, I saw envy, yes—but beneath it was a hollow, echoing void of pain. My heart throbbed with a misplaced pity. She had raised me alone. She was broken, and I told myself that her cruelty was just a symptom of her suffering. I decided to endure it. For the sake of “family.” A few weeks later, Nathan and I went to the postnatal center to finalize our paperwork. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vance,” the receptionist said, looking confused. “But your mother called yesterday. She canceled the luxury suite and requested a full refund.” My heart plummeted. I drove straight to her house. When I walked in, I was blinded by the flash of a heavy gold cuff on her wrist. She didn’t even try to hide it. “I gave you my wedding jewelry because you complained you never had anything nice,” I said, my voice shaking as I grabbed her arm. “I would have bought you this, Mom. Why did you cancel my retreat? Why did you steal that money?” At the mention of the retreat, her eyes turned a feral, bloodshot red. She ripped her arm away and slapped me across the face so hard my ears rang. “How dare you!” she shrieked. “I never had a day of rest after I popped you out! I was back on my feet in forty-eight hours, bleeding and hurting! Why do you get to be pampered? Why are you better than me?” I touched my stinging cheek, staring at her. Because I didn’t have it, you can’t have it. As I stood there, stunned, she suddenly lunged at me. She grabbed the hem of my maternity shirt and yanked it up. “Five months,” she hissed, her eyes scanning my midsection with a desperate, hungry light. “You must have them by now. Show me! Show me how disgusting you look!” When she saw my stomach—smooth, pale, and unblemished—her face crumpled. She rubbed her eyes, leaning in close, refusing to believe it. My skin was clear. She began to cry, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of rage. She hiked up her own shirt, pointing at the faded, silvery lines etched into her skin. “I turned into a monster for you! Your father left because of this! I have them—why don’t you have them?” She let out a guttural scream. Despite the horror, I felt a pang of sorrow for her. Her life had been nothing but bitterness and lack. I reached out, my arms trembling, wanting to hold her, to finally bridge the chasm between us. “Mom, everyone’s body is different,” I whispered. “I’ll pay for laser treatments for you, okay? We can fix it—” She opened her arms. For a split second, I thought she was going to embrace me. Instead, she buried her jagged, unkempt fingernails into the skin of my belly and raked them downward. She clawed at me with a sickening ferocity. “Liar! You’re spending money on creams and treatments behind my back! You’re trying to stay pretty to spite me!” I screamed, the pain so sharp I nearly blacked out. “I’m your mother! If I have them, you have them too!” I looked down through blurred eyes. Deep, bloody furrows ran across my stomach, mimicking the very scars she hated. She hadn’t stopped; she was digging in deeper, trying to ensure the marks would be permanent. “Nathan! Help me!” I shrieked. Nathan burst through the door. I saw his face go pale with horror before the world tilted and went black. I woke up in the hospital. Nathan was holding my hand, his eyes red from crying. “She’s insane, Riley. I’m looking into specialized facilities. We’re done with her. We have to be.” I nodded, too weak to argue. When we finally returned home, we found her sitting in our living room. I’d forgotten she had a spare key. She looked at my hospital gown and rolled her eyes. “I gave birth in a shack,” she scoffed. “You lose a little blood and you run to the ER? You’re so dramatic, Riley. Nathan, you shouldn’t indulge her. It’s a waste of money.” My heart, already shattered, felt like it was being ground into dust. The doorbell rang. My mother perked up and hurried to the door, returning with a young woman in tow. The girl was pretty, in a sharp, hungry sort of way, wearing a short, ruffled “maid” costume and sheer black stockings. Nathan and I exchanged a bewildered look. “Nathan,” my mother said, presenting the girl like a prize. “This is Jade. I’ve hired her as your ‘helper.’ She’s young, she’s hard-working… isn’t she much better to look at than a bloated housewife?” Jade looked down, biting her lip with a rehearsed shyness. My mother was doing it again. Because her husband cheated, mine had to, too. Nathan didn’t even hesitate. “Get out,” he said, his voice vibrating with rage. “You look ridiculous, and you’re clearly not here to clean. Lydia, take your ‘friend’ and leave our house before I call the police.” My mother gripped the doorframe. “Jade is very talented,” she said with a wicked glint in her eye. “Just give her one day. A trial run. You can’t judge a girl by her clothes. She needs the work, Nathan. If she doesn’t find a job, her family will sell her off to some old man in the countryside. Have some heart!” Jade looked up with watery eyes. “Please, Mr. Vance. Just one chance.” My head was pounding. I just wanted them gone. “Fine,” I muttered. “One day. If they aren’t gone by tomorrow morning, Nathan, call the cops.” My mother and Jade shared a look. It was a look of pure, predatory triumph. The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. I called Nathan’s name, but the house was silent. I walked down the hall to the guest room. The door was ajar. I pushed it open and the world stopped spinning. Nathan and Jade were lying in the bed, completely naked, their skin flushed, the sheets tangled around them in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The pain that ripped through me was physical. I let out a jagged cry and swept a glass vase off the nightstand. It shattered against the floor. My mother walked in, leaning against the doorframe. She looked at me with the most radiant smile I had ever seen on her face. “Your father did it. Why shouldn’t your husband?” she purred. “I married a loser, why should you get a man like Nathan? Jade is young and beautiful. They’re a much better match.” She grabbed my arm, her grip like iron. “Come on, don’t make a scene. Let the lovebirds be. We’re going to the clinic to get rid of that baby, and then I’ll introduce you to someone who actually suits you. Stan from across the street is looking for a wife.” Stan. A forty-year-old alcoholic who lived in his mother’s basement and had a history of domestic calls. This wasn’t just jealousy. This was hatred. Then I saw the empty bottle of heavy-duty sedatives and an industrial-strength aphrodisiac on the dresser. My stomach turned. I wrenched my arm away from her, severing the last thread of “family” I had left. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “I’d like to report a poisoning and a sexual assault. The address is…”

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During my heaviest year, I literally sat on the school bully until he cried. The harder he cried, the more riled up I got. I threw a leg over him, pinned him down, and gave him a few good twists. Something felt… uncomfortable against me. Ever since that day, the moment he saw me, he’d run faster than the speed of light. Three years later at a college reunion, my former classmates were joking around: “Chloe is so skinny now, she couldn’t squish Liam until he cried even if she tried!” Liam, sitting across the table, leaned forward slightly and crossed his legs. My entire body flushed hot, and my face turned as red as a tomato all the way down to my neck. 1 I had honestly forgotten what Liam even looked like. For all of high school, he ran the opposite direction the second he saw me. And he was fast. So fast that my memory of his face was completely blurry. On the very first day of high school, my desk neighbor warned me. Liam Vance was the grandson of the richest man in the city. He was a complete menace. If you saw him walking down the hall, you took a detour. My mom had also warned me that going to a city high school meant I needed to keep my head down and absolutely avoid offending anyone. I kept that firmly in mind. Then, one day, I saw him cornered on the edge of the athletic field. It was one against five. Five upperclassmen had him surrounded. He saw me from afar and yelled out. “Chloe!” I squinted, took a few steps closer to see clearly. Once I realized it was him, I turned around and walked the other way without looking back. Shortly after, I heard his screams of agony. Back in the classroom, I was worried something really bad had happened to him. So I told the whole class, and then I told our homeroom teacher. By the time the teacher led the whole class out to find him, his clothes were torn, one side of his face was swollen like a balloon, and he had a black eye like a panda. It was the first time I had ever seen him up close. The swooning girls in my class always said Liam was tall, handsome, and had striking, almost mixed-race features. But right now? He looked like the guy who collected scrap metal back in my hometown. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. And my eyes met his. He stood up, hissed in pain, pointed a finger at me and said, “You just wait, you’re dead.” The homeroom teacher immediately kicked him right in the butt, making him yelp in pain. The very next evening, right after I walked out of the cafeteria, he and his little posse blocked my path. I hid the fried chicken drumstick I was holding behind my back and swallowed hard. I had just taken my first bite. I hadn’t even swallowed yet. If the chicken got cold, it wouldn’t taste good anymore. Because of that, I completely forgot my desk neighbor’s and my mom’s warnings. I sounded incredibly irritable. “Are you annoying or what? Just because I didn’t help you? If I had helped you fight and won, wouldn’t you have looked even more pathetic?” The lackeys behind him looked down, clearly embarrassed that I had hit the nail on the head. He stiffened his neck and yelled at me: “Fatty Chloe! You’re as fat as a pig and you’re still eating chicken!” That’s it? So childish. I pushed past him to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. I jerked my arm away, and accidentally dropped my chicken drumstick on the ground. It’s fine, I thought. I can pick it up, wash it off, peel the breading off, and still eat it. But then he stepped forward and stomped on my chicken. He even twisted his ankle back and forth to grind it in. My gaze slowly traveled upward until it locked onto his face. Anger erupted in me like a volcano. I let out a roar and tackled him to the ground. He already had one arm in a cast from yesterday, and his other arm was no match for my substantial weight. I planted my butt squarely on top of him. “Give me back my chicken! You owe me my chicken! I only get to eat chicken once a year! Waaah…” Liam’s face turned beet red, and two streams of tears slid from the corners of his eyes. A crowd started forming. Someone yelled, “Go get a teacher!” Hearing that, his lackeys scattered and ran for their lives. The harder Liam cried, the more worked up I got. I threw a leg over him, pinning him down like I was riding a horse, and gave him a few good twists. Just like what he did to my chicken drumstick. For some reason, though… something felt uncomfortable against me. Eventually, some classmates pulled me off him. I mourned that chicken drumstick for a whole month. I was so grief-stricken and angry that I studied until I ranked number one in our grade on the monthly exams. Only then did I emerge from my depression. 2 From that day on, whenever Liam saw me, he’d bolt without a trace. Liam’s admission to our school wasn’t through normal channels. His mom was on the school board. I heard his middle school test scores were so low he wouldn’t have even qualified for the worst high school in the city. Students like me, who had been on the low-income financial aid list since childhood, hated people like him the most. Especially since he destroyed my chicken drumstick. But there was nothing I could do to him. In fact, I was terrified of him. I was afraid he would complain to his mom and get my financial aid revoked. Or just make up an excuse to get me expelled. For an entire semester, I waited for my homeroom teacher to tell me to pack my bags. Every night I had nightmares about being chased by a vicious dog. The dead dog would run right up to my face, bare its fangs, give an evil laugh, and its face would morph into Liam’s. It wasn’t until after the final exams that the homeroom teacher announced he had some news. Inside the stuffy, enclosed classroom, a cold sweat ran down my spine. I was already planning how to break the news to my mom. At worst, I’d just go work in the mines with her. The teacher calling my name pulled me back to reality. “Chloe, the school has established a new scholarship. Since you ranked first in your grade, you’ve been awarded eight thousand dollars.” That wasn’t just a scholarship; that was life-saving money. Not only did I have money for living expenses, but my mom wouldn’t have to risk getting black lung disease working in the mines just to make a few hundred extra dollars a month. The teacher also praised Liam. His grades had shot up from dead last to the middle of the pack. My desk neighbor whispered that Liam had a crush on a girl, the most popular girl in our grade, Mia. Mia consistently ranked in the top ten, and she had publicly stated she would never date a guy with worse grades than hers. Liam’s desk was piled high with New Year’s cards from girls. He shoved all of them into his desk drawer. The only one he carefully placed into his backpack was the one from Mia. After that, he completely settled down and stopped causing trouble. Occasionally, when we crossed paths, I didn’t even have to hide from him, and he never called me “Fatty Chloe” again. Actually, wait. He just completely refused to even look at me. By the time we graduated high school, he had become the “cold and aloof heartthrob” all the underclassmen obsessed over. He rejected countless girls, supposedly just waiting for Mia to say yes. After graduation, my only interaction with him was when we picked up our diplomas. The homeroom teacher told me Liam’s mother had asked him to pass on a message. “She says thank you to the pretty, chubby girl in your class. Her sitting on Liam finally knocked some sense into him.” I scratched my head and smiled. His mom was pretty funny. When I turned around, Liam happened to be standing right outside the office door. Our eyes met; he immediately looked away, and I looked down at the floor. We walked past each other, and I never saw him again. 3 I honestly hadn’t planned on attending this college reunion. Heading into my senior year of college, I was juggling part-time jobs and frantically applying for internships. I was completely overwhelmed. My old high school desk neighbor, Sarah, urged me: “You should come! It’s good networking for the future.” “Plus, Liam is the one organizing it this time.” “Remember him? The guy you sat on until he cried?” I rubbed my forehead and cut her off: “Can we please not bring that up? I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go.” Standing in a quiet corner, holding my phone, my face was burning red. It was only much later that I finally understood why it felt so… uncomfortable that day. On the day of the reunion, to show how little I cared, I didn’t wear any makeup. I specifically wore a faded, washed-out tracksuit and carried a canvas tote bag from a cheap grocery store. Sure enough, when I arrived, I was the most shabbily dressed person there. In stark contrast, Liam, who was pushing 6’2″, stood out effortlessly in the crowd. He had broad shoulders and a strong back, and the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt were casually undone. It made me think of that chicken drumstick from years ago, and I involuntarily swallowed hard. As soon as I walked in, Sarah dragged me right over to Liam. “Boss Vance, remember her? Chloe!” A wave of good-natured laughter rippled through the group around us. “Chloe is so skinny now, she couldn’t squish Liam until he cried even if she tried!” Hearing that, Liam’s expression became slightly unnatural. He leaned forward slightly and crossed his legs. My entire body flushed hot, and my face turned as red as a tomato all the way down to my neck. I fanned my face frantically with my hands. “It’s so hot in here! I’m gonna go step outside for some air.” “If you’re hot, just take your jacket off!” Sarah, with lightning speed, reached over and yanked the zipper of my track jacket down. I had bought this jacket back when I hadn’t lost the weight yet, so it hung on me like a massive potato sack. With her pull, the jacket easily slid off my shoulders. Revealing my upper body, dressed only in a thin camisole, directly facing Liam. He lowered his gaze, taking in my entire chest area without missing a detail. I panicked and frantically pulled the jacket back up over my shoulders. Sarah wouldn’t shut up. “Wow, the parts that weren’t supposed to shrink didn’t shrink at all!” “If you sat on someone now, you’d still make them cry, just for a different reason!” While nervously adjusting my collar, I snuck a peek at Liam. The tips of his ears were bright red. 4 It wasn’t until Liam spoke up that we realized he came with an agenda. “I started a tech company back in our hometown, and we’re currently hiring.” “The pay and benefits are excellent, and we provide housing and meals. If anyone is interested, please send me your resume.” Sarah nudged me in the ribs. She handed me her phone, showing the profile of Liam’s company. “Doesn’t this perfectly align with your major?” I felt conflicted. I had hoped to never cross paths with Liam again in my entire life. I had never told anyone, but I had actually seen him at a gay bar where I was working part-time. It wasn’t that I was judging him, it just made me feel weird whenever I thought about it. But I really wanted to go back to my hometown. My mom, worried about me working so much while in school, had secretly gone back to working in the mines and ended up getting a lung disease. I wanted to go back so I could take care of her and keep an eye on her. Our hometown was a traditional industrial city; tech startups like his could be counted on one hand. And the existing ones were usually just neglected branch offices with no real career prospects. The salary listed on Liam’s job posting made my heart race. That night, I tossed and turned, and the dreams started again. In my dream, a giant white dog came running toward me, wagging its tail, and tackled me to the ground. It licked me all over until I was giggling uncontrollably. Then the big dog lifted its head, and its face morphed into Liam’s. I woke up covered in a cold sweat. He’s haunting me. Suddenly, my phone rang with an unknown number. “Ms. Davis, we are calling from Vance Tech. We would like to invite you for an interview next week.” It was Liam’s company. But I hadn’t even submitted a resume. Then, my mom’s attending physician texted me, saying they were scheduling her surgery for next week. I simply said “Okay” into the phone. Since I was heading back to my hometown anyway, I might as well check it out. On the day of the interview, Liam wasn’t there. I had a great conversation with the Chief Technology Officer. I didn’t even have to do an internship period; I was hired full-time immediately. And there was no pay cut during the probationary period. I always knew I was a good student, but I didn’t realize I was that good. It would be rude to refuse such an offer. However, because the time for my mom’s surgery was suddenly moved up, I had to delay my start date by a day. First thing in the morning on my first day, I ran into Liam in the elevator. I respectfully greeted him: “Good morning, Boss.” His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times, but he didn’t say a word. The elevator chimed. Just as the doors opened a crack, I lifted my foot to step out. Through the gap, I saw a pair of long, gorgeous legs waiting outside. The elevator doors opened fully. It was Mia. She completely ignored me and threw herself directly into Liam’s arms. “Liam! You said at the meeting yesterday you weren’t coming into the office today!” “Something came up.” I stepped out of the elevator and turned around. Liam had his hands up in surrender, letting Mia hang off his neck, smiling at her with pure indulgence. 5 The moment I sat down at my desk, my manager called me into his office. “Mr. Vance’s executive assistant position hasn’t been filled yet. You have a great academic background, so I need you to fill in for a while.” “Is that really appropriate—?” “What I mean is, won’t Mia mind?” “Mia—? Oh, you mean the boss’s wife. Why would she mind?” “Mr. Vance is giving you an incredible compensation package, show a little tact.” The boss’s wife. Makes sense. But my chest felt inexplicably tight. My butt hadn’t even warmed my new desk chair yet. I grumbled under my breath as I packed up my things and headed upstairs. Right outside Liam’s office was the executive assistant’s desk. Since I was here, I figured I should go say hi to the boss first. I pushed the door open. He was facing the door and I startled him. He frowned and asked me why I didn’t knock. Behind him, facing away from me, Mia was leaning over, her arms propped up on his desk. That posture. My face instantly burned bright red. “Sorry to interrupt.” I backed up a few steps and closed the door for them. A few seconds later, Mia walked out, giving me a playful, assessing look. She took a few steps forward, rubbed her lower back, and let out a soft sigh. From inside the office, Liam yelled “Come in,” making me jump. He was leaning back in his office chair, rubbing his temples with one hand. “I yelled a little too loud just now. Don’t take it personally.” My mom always said: if someone respects you an inch, you respect them a mile. I cleared my throat. “Not at all, Boss, you’re too polite. You can yell at me if you want, you can even hit me if you want.” He looked up, suppressing a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I can hit you?” “Sure.” His lips parted, a half-smile playing on his face. “Girls should learn how to protect themselves.” “I’m very good at protecting myself! You should worry about protecting yourself. Did you forget what happened when we fought, I—” Why do I have a mouth?! He closed his eyes and waved his hand. “Get out.” Back at my desk, I buried my head in organizing documents. Liam suddenly opened his door and threw a uniform at me. “Change into this. You’re coming on a business trip with me.” Change, sure. I’ll change right now. A white button-down shirt, a fitted blazer, a pencil skirt, and black tights. My body proportions—my chest and waist measurements—make buying clothes incredibly difficult. But this uniform fit like it was custom-tailored for me. I looked at myself in the mirror and gave a very serious, professional salute. Walking out of the restroom, I practically crashed into Liam. He must be sick or something. His ears were always bleeding red. 6 It was my first time flying, and it was in First Class. I asked Liam: “Next time, could you book me in Economy and just pay me the difference in cash?” He turned away and completely ignored me. The plane hit sudden turbulence, and I let out a yelp. Before the sound even faded, I was already pulled into his chest. His Adam’s apple bobbed right next to my ear, and his voice drifted down from above me. “Coward.” I looked up and met his eyes. His gaze was hazy. He slowly lowered his head, and it looked like he was about to kiss me. I swallowed hard and struggled to say: “I have boundaries.” He let go of me, sat back in his seat, and turned his face away. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty. He didn’t look at me again until we got off the plane. Well, what could I do? He was the boss, and I was terrified of getting fired. I helped him with his luggage, I told him jokes. I even kept dropping hints. “Mia is so beautiful, it’s hard to find anyone prettier than her, right?” “Whoever gets to marry Mia is incredibly lucky. Anyone who doesn’t cherish her deserves to be impotent for life.” His expression finally cracked. He gave me a very strange look. “You really like her?” “Of course I do!” “Is that why you worked at that kind of place?” “What kind of place?” “Mr. Vance!” A voice called out, interrupting our conversation. A guy holding a pick-up sign ran over. He had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, easily as handsome as Liam. “My name is Ryan. I graduated from City High too.” “Technically, that makes you two my underclassmen.” I sweetly called out, “Nice to meet you, Ryan!” Liam glared at me. I pouted. You’re the vendor here, why are you acting so arrogant? How are you going to close this deal? These rich trust fund kids really don’t understand how the real world works. I continued turning on the charm for Ryan. “Ryan, your company is notoriously hard to get into, you must be amazing at what you do!” “We are so honored to have this opportunity to visit. Next time you come to our city, I’ll bring you some local specialties!” Liam’s face grew darker and darker. Does he even want to do business or what?

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My fiancé got amnesia. He forgot everything—except, selectively, me. He was faking it. I didn’t expose him. Our marriage certificate turned into a divorce decree. Yet, three days later, the wedding I had meticulously planned for a month went on exactly as scheduled. He was still the groom, but the bride wasn’t me anymore. It was his on-again, off-again ex-girlfriend. When we met again, he grabbed my wrist, completely losing his mind: “Chloe, where did you go?! Why didn’t you come looking for me?!” I put on a perfectly blank expression, looking at him defensively: “Excuse me, sir, who are you? Do I know you?” 1 “Chloe, get over here. We’re getting a divorce.” Liam’s words were blunt and brutal. I stayed silent. He didn’t need my answer anyway. He hung up the phone. Liam was my fiancé. He had amnesia. And the very first thing he did after “losing his memory” was summon me to sign divorce papers. We had just gotten our marriage license at City Hall that morning; by the afternoon, we were annulling it. When I walked into the county clerk’s office, I found that Liam wasn’t alone. The woman clinging intimately to his arm was very familiar to me. It was his ex-girlfriend, Mia. She and Liam had a toxic, on-again, off-again relationship for five years. Until I showed up. Now, Liam had “forgotten” me. And she was right back by his side. Seeing me, the smile on Mia’s face vanished. She stammered, “Chloe, please don’t misunderstand… Liam and I are just…” As she spoke, she didn’t loosen her grip; she actually held onto him tighter. Liam proactively covered her hand with his own, claiming his territory: “I asked Mia to come with me. You don’t have to misunderstand anything. She is my girlfriend.” My heart violently seized. Meeting Mia’s triumphant gaze, I numbly nodded my head. There weren’t many people processing divorces today. When we got to the counter, the clerk shot me a bewildered look. She recognized me. Liam and I had just been here this morning to get our marriage certificate. She had even congratulated us: “Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.” And now, we were back in the afternoon. To get a divorce. But the person holding Liam’s arm wasn’t me. It was Mia. I stood in front of them, a completely isolated figure. The clerk’s lips moved silently as she cast a highly suspicious look at the three of us. After a long pause, she said, “This is highly unusual.” Liam frowned. He was getting impatient. He made a phone call. Very quickly, thanks to his connections, the expedited annulment paperwork was pushed through. I clutched the stamped document in my hand, a bitter smile curling on my lips. Mia pretended to bring it up casually: “Since you’re already divorced, you’re not going to keep squatting at Liam’s house, right?” She covered her mouth, feigning sympathy: “Oh, I’m sorry, I know you don’t have anywhere else to go. You were married, after all… if you want to stay for a few days, Liam wouldn’t mind…” Liam cut her off, his voice devoid of any emotion: “We’re divorced. Move out today.” It was so cold, so matter-of-fact. As if he wasn’t the one faking his amnesia. My throat instantly tightened. The glaringly white annulment papers burned my eyes. He faked amnesia just for this, didn’t he? Why bother? I was never the type to cling desperately to a dead relationship. If he wanted a divorce, why would I ever hold onto a man who didn’t love me? It was just laughable that my five years of devotion couldn’t even earn me an honest breakup. A marriage, ending in such an absurd, farcical tragedy. I took a deep breath. “Fine.” 2 The car Liam was driving was the one we had picked out together to be our wedding car. When we bought it, Liam had told me: “On our wedding day, I’m going to drive this exact car to bring my Chloe home.” I had never even sat in it yet. But right now, sitting in the passenger seat, was Mia. Liam leaned over to help her buckle her seatbelt. They were incredibly close. As Liam pulled back, Mia sweetly planted a kiss on his cheek. Instinctively, Liam looked up and locked eyes with me. Following Liam’s gaze, Mia saw me and pouted, “Sorry, this is the car Liam bought for me. It belongs to me exclusively. I don’t want any other woman sitting in it.” Liam looked at her with pure indulgence. “Whatever you say.” With that, Liam drove off with Mia, leaving me in the dust. The acrid smell of exhaust blew directly into my face. My nose stung, and my eyes gradually grew red. When I finally caught an Uber to the house, the massive front gates of the estate were locked tight. My luggage was thrown haphazardly outside the gates, scattered across the driveway. I knocked on the gate for a long time before the housekeeper, Maria, finally came out. She read the confusion in my eyes and hesitated before speaking: “Miss Mia ordered me to throw all of this out.” Mia’s voice floated over: “Oh? Are these your things? I’m so sorry, I thought it was just someone’s abandoned trash, so I had them throw it all out. I didn’t do it on purpose, you’re not mad, are you?” Mia walked out, arms crossed over her chest, a faint, smug satisfaction in her eyes. I forced a smile. “Miss Mia, your upbringing is truly concerning.” A harsh reprimand came from inside the house: “Chloe, don’t push your luck! Mia already apologized to you, what more do you want?” I looked over. Liam walked up to Mia’s side, his face cold as ice as he stared at me. His gaze swept over my scattered belongings on the ground, and he sneered: “What’s the difference between this junk and actual trash? Only you would value garbage like this.” My throat choked up. My heart suddenly seized so tightly I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. He impatiently urged me: “Stop wasting time. Pack up your trash and get out. I don’t want to see you here again.” The feeling was mutual. There was absolutely no point in arguing or tangling with him anymore. I swallowed the bitterness lodged in my throat and silently began picking up my things. Even though I hadn’t lived here long, I had a lot of stuff. It packed two massive suitcases to the brim. This mansion was supposed to be our marital home. The meticulous interior design, the elegant, comfortable furniture… Every single detail, I had personally designed and arranged. Back then, I thought this was the home where Liam and I would spend the rest of our lives. But now, the house looked exactly the same, yet the person living in it wasn’t me anymore. The scenery remained, but the people had changed. I dragged my two heavy suitcases and started walking away. Mia took a deep, exaggerated breath. “Now that the trash is gone, the air smells so much fresher.” Hearing this, Liam ordered the housekeeper: “Maria, have a cleaning crew sanitize the house from top to bottom. If you find any more of her things, throw them straight into the dumpster.” I stopped in my tracks. I sniffled hard, forcing back the tears pooling in my eyes. I turned my head and looked directly at Mia. “The trash I didn’t want anymore… is all yours.” 3 I found a random, cheap apartment and moved in. Once the adrenaline wore off, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I lay in bed, sleeping in a pitch-black room for two straight days. On the third day, I got a call from my business partner. I was a high-end wedding planner. My friend and I had started our own boutique agency. I had planned weddings for countless beautiful couples. And I had spent an entire month meticulously planning my own. Now, that wedding hadn’t even happened, yet it was already a ghost of my past. When I heard the familiar names through the phone, my heart dropped. My voice trembled as I asked: “Who are the bride and groom?” The names Liam Vance and Mia Sterling drilled into my ears. My head was buzzing. Instinctively, I refused the job. My partner’s fearful voice came through the receiver: “Chloe, you know how powerful the Vance family is…” With a single word, Liam could ensure I would never find work in this city again. I hung up the phone, collapsing back onto the bed. Liam was coming for me. He specifically requested me to plan his wedding. I couldn’t hide. I hurriedly got ready and rushed to the wedding venue. The venue was a massive, luxury estate in the wine country. The estate featured a breathtaking, endless sea of lavender. When the breeze blew, the lavender swayed like a dream. I had originally booked this venue because lavender was my absolute favorite flower. I had hoped that on the most important day of my life, I could stand in a sea of lavender, holding hands with the man I loved, stepping into our future. But seeing this field of flowers now, a thick, suffocating bitterness wrapped around my heart. I forced the bitterness down and maintained a strictly professional demeanor as I discussed the wedding details with Mia. She was dissatisfied with everything, constantly pointing fingers, making me revise and change every little detail. Liam sat patiently by her side. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his face entirely devoid of impatience. Just days ago, he had held me exactly like this, listening tirelessly as I planned our wedding. After torturing me for four hours, Mia finally said: “Forget it, let’s just stick to the original plan. After all, Miss Chloe is the most familiar with it. I feel safe leaving it in your hands.” I stared at the dense notes on my iPad, my fingers gripping the edges tightly. The “original plan” she was talking about was the exact blueprint I had designed for my own wedding. Of course I was familiar with it. Seeing my tightly pursed lips, Mia curled her mouth into a delighted smirk. She said casually: “The wedding is tomorrow afternoon. I know it’s a bit rushed, but I believe Miss Chloe can pull it off perfectly, right?” I froze for a second. My wedding with Liam was originally scheduled for tomorrow afternoon as well. I looked up, meeting Mia’s smug, victorious gaze. The wedding I had spent a month pouring my heart into was now hers. It was sickening. After a long silence, I forced a single word out of my throat: “Yes.” Mia leaned against Liam, a dagger hidden in her smile: “Liam, Miss Chloe has been such a huge help. We definitely have to give her a massive tip on our wedding day.” Liam said coldly: “This is what she’s supposed to do. Otherwise, why would I pay her?” Hearing this, Mia’s smile grew even wider. I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes. My heart was so exhausted. So tired that I didn’t even have the energy to argue. After a moment of silence, I said quietly: “You are the clients. The client is always right.” 4 Once they left, I let out a long sigh of relief. I truly did not want to tangle with them anymore. But once some plays begin, I can’t just call “cut” whenever I want. I rubbed my temples. I couldn’t relax yet. They got to leave easily, dumping a massive mess in my lap. Thankfully, because I had been prepping this wedding for a month, the logistics were 80% complete. I just needed to tie up the loose ends. Despite that, I still ended up pulling an all-nighter. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed. I had only slept for two hours. But the wedding was today, and I still had a million fires to put out. During the setup, I was so exhausted I could barely stand straight. I closed my eyes, my head spinning, my footsteps stumbling. Suddenly, someone caught my arm to steady me. I opened my eyes. It was Liam. Instinctively, I shoved him away. A flash of shock crossed his face, quickly replaced by a cold glare: “Why are you standing around daydreaming? The wedding is pure chaos right now, shouldn’t you be out there managing it?” I forced a weak smile. The money is hard to earn, and the shit is hard to swallow. I didn’t have the energy to fight him. I turned around to walk away, but someone called my name. Mia, wearing a stunning, extravagant purple bridal gown that cinched her tiny waist, walked gracefully toward us. My eyes unavoidably landed on her dress. This exact dress was the one Liam had originally chosen for me. And now, it was on Mia’s body. My fingernails dug into my palms, the sharp pain tugging at the snapping string of my sanity. Mia smugly twirled in front of me. She wore a fake, sickeningly sweet smile: “Miss Chloe, do you think this dress looks good? Does it fit the vibe of the venue today?” I couldn’t speak. I just nodded randomly. Her smile widened, her eyes locking onto me darkly: “I wonder if we could ask Miss Chloe to be our wedding MC today?” The string in my mind finally snapped. I clenched my jaw, staying silent. Liam said softly: “Mia, stop playing around. It’s not appropriate.” Mia grabbed his arm and whined: “Why isn’t it appropriate? I believe in Miss Chloe’s abilities! If she’s been in this industry for so long and can’t even MC a wedding, why does she even own a wedding planning company?” Liam, completely whipped by her whining, coaxed her gently: “Alright, whatever you want.” His cold gaze shifted to me, his tone rigid: “Miss Chloe, you will be the MC for our wedding today.” A bitter smile crept onto my lips: “And if I refuse?” Liam furrowed his brow, threatening me directly: “Then I can only assume you lack the professional capability. And I think a company like yours has no business surviving in this city.” I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, forcing the lump in my throat back down. How humiliating. Couldn’t we just part ways peacefully? I was never going to stalk him or beg for him back. Even without this humiliation today, I would have avoided them like the plague forever. Why did he have to degrade me like this? I nodded numbly. With heavy, exhausted steps, I walked past them. But as I brushed past Mia, I paused. I asked in a low voice: “Miss Mia, do you really just love wearing other people’s hand-me-downs?” 5 The words slipped out before I could stop them. I didn’t stick around to see the dark, furious look on Mia’s face; I just kept walking quickly. The wedding officially began at 6:00 PM. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking, fiery sunset. The golden hour light spilled over the sea of lavender, looking like a literal dream. Mia, in her gorgeous purple gown, walked slowly through the lavender fields. Amidst thunderous applause, she placed her hand into Liam’s. My eyes suddenly welled with tears. This wedding was the exact carbon copy of the one I had spent a month planning. I had envisioned this exact moment in my head countless times. But the bride wasn’t me. My love story had mutated into something unrecognizable. I stood there like a marionette, numbly reciting the MC script I had prepared. The entire venue was filled with laughter and joy, while my heart was as dead and still as a stagnant pool of water. The wedding celebrations lasted late into the night. I stumbled back to my crappy apartment. The moment I hit the mattress, I passed out into a heavy, feverish sleep. I woke up to my phone ringing incessantly. My face was flushed, and my forehead was burning up. I had a severe fever. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. I forced myself up and fumbled for it. My vision was blurry; I couldn’t read the caller ID. But the familiar voice came through the speaker. I knew it was Liam. He was speaking in a deeply annoyed tone: “Mia, what is wrong with you? Can you put a little effort in? Can’t you handle the basic logistics after the wedding? You’ve been missing all morning…” I casually hung up the phone. I didn’t have time for his unhinged rambling. I was the boss of my company; I didn’t need to micromanage every single minor post-event detail. My body felt like it was falling apart. I managed to find some meds and dry-swallowed them. The moment I lay back down, I passed out again. My dreams were an absolute mess. Memories of Liam and me cut through my nightmares like shards of glass. They crashed down on me, shattering into pieces, leaving me bruised and bleeding. I was sick for an entire week. At its worst, I had to go to the hospital and get an IV drip for three days. By the time I recovered, the potted lavender I kept on my windowsill had withered and died. The language of lavender means “waiting for love.” But my love had withered. Even the memories were nothing but humiliation and degradation now. I blocked Liam’s number. Since he wanted to fake amnesia, I wanted him to commit to the bit completely. It would be best if we never crossed paths again for the rest of our lives. I didn’t want to stay in this city. I started traveling for work constantly. When I returned from my final business trip, a month had already passed. As I walked out of my office building, a black Mercedes was parked by the curb. A man was leaning against the door, smoking a cigarette. The smoke obscured his face. His gaze suddenly locked onto me. He crushed the cigarette out and walked quickly toward me. It was Liam. Before I could dodge him, he grabbed my wrist. He looked completely unhinged as he interrogated me: “Chloe, where the hell did you go?! Why didn’t you come looking for me?!” I pressed my lips tightly together. I looked up, my face completely blank. I looked at him defensively and asked: “Excuse me, sir, who are you? Do I know you?” 6 The shock on Liam’s face was impossible to hide. His grip on my wrist tightened anxiously. “Chloe, what nonsense are you spouting? Do you really not know who I am?!” A sharp pain shot through my wrist. I frowned, my eyes turning cold. “Sir, please let go. This is harassment. If you don’t let go, I’m calling the police.” Liam didn’t let go. His eyes searched my face. Seeing the genuine lack of recognition in my eyes, sheer panic and terror washed over his features. His voice shook: “Chloe, it’s me, Liam. I’m your… husband.” I didn’t believe him. In my struggle to break free, I bit his hand hard. He flinched in pain but still wouldn’t let go. I screamed at the top of my lungs: “HELP!” He tried to cover my mouth, but it was too late. Passersby immediately crowded around us. He frantically tried to explain: “I’m her husband! We’re just having a fight!” I pulled his hand away and yelled in panic: “He’s lying! I don’t know him!” Seeing my distress, the crowd aggressively pinned Liam down. A good Samaritan called the cops. The police car took both of us to the precinct. Liam was my husband. Keyword: was. Now, he was just my ex-husband. The date on our marriage certificate and the date on our divorce decree were exactly the same. Our married life didn’t even last 24 hours. After looking into the records and realizing the truth, the officers looked at Liam with pure disgust. After a severe, humiliating lecture from the cops, Liam was finally released. Standing outside the precinct, Liam’s eyes were glued to me. He asked hoarsely: “Chloe, do you really not remember me?” I took a few steps back in disgust, speaking coldly: “I got severely sick a month ago and lost a lot of my memories. Should I remember you? If I forgot you, it just means you weren’t important.” Hearing this, Liam looked incredibly hurt. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something. I cut him off: “I heard you’re my ex-husband. Since you managed to become my ex-husband, I assume there’s absolutely no need for us to stay in contact.” Liam panicked instantly: “Chloe, please, let me explain…” “Liam!” Mia’s voice cut through the air. I looked over. Mia was practically sprinting toward us, glaring at me with absolute hostility. She aggressively linked her arm through Liam’s, staking her claim, and demanded: “Why are you here?!” I let out a scoff: “Are you his wife? You should probably be interrogating your husband instead of harassing an innocent bystander!” Mia looked suspicious, but forced a confident front: “Liam would never do anything wrong.” But, highly out of character, Liam violently shoved Mia’s arm away. From start to finish, he didn’t even look at her. He took a step toward me, but stopped, seemingly stung by my defensive glare. He explained, his voice thick with emotion: “Chloe, she’s not my wife. I never married her. You are my only wife.” Mia’s face instantly turned black. She anxiously grabbed for Liam’s hand, her voice frantic: “Liam, let’s go home, okay?” Liam shoved her away out of pure reflex. Mia fell hard onto the concrete, letting out a cry of pain. She started crying pitifully: “Liam, it hurts.” But this still didn’t grab Liam’s attention. His eyes were dead-set on me. His voice sounded almost pathetic: “Chloe, please, let me explain. I had amnesia before, and I was tricked into divorcing you. But now I remember everything…” I interrupted him impatiently: “I don’t care. Please stop harassing me.”

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1 It was the company’s team-building day, and I brought my daughter along. My colleagues found her adorable, constantly showering her with snacks. Only our young boss, Ethan, eyed her with a knowing look. “Autumn, your daughter looks so much like a friend of mine. So much so, I’d almost suspect she’s his illegitimate child.” Ethan snapped a picture of Ella, then asked for my permission. “You don’t mind if I send this to my friend, do you? Just to spook him a little.” I shook my head, simply dismissing it as a coincidence. My colleagues, now intrigued, gathered around me, gossiping non-stop. “Autumn, what does the baby’s father do?” “We… separated a long time ago.” “Ella is so beautiful, besides your gorgeous genes, her dad must be responsible too. Was your ex-husband really handsome?” “Yes, quite handsome.” Even though he wasn’t even an ex-husband. “Why did you two break up? Did he cheat?” “No.” “Domestic violence?” “No, he was very gentle.” “Then why?” My colleagues were genuinely regretful. I offered a bitter smile, saying nothing more. My thoughts drifted over a thousand miles away, to the city of Portside. I was sold to Mr. Tanner, Liam Tanner, by my adoptive father to pay off a debt. He initially didn’t want me, but fearing my adoptive father might beat me to death, he took pity. Not only did he let me live rent-free in one of his properties, but he also funded my high school and university education. Yet, during that time, he never saw me again. It wasn’t until graduation that my adoptive father, burdened by gambling debts, schemed with me once more. He demanded I go to Liam for money. Little did he know, I couldn’t even find Liam. The only person I normally contacted was his assistant, Ryan Lee. And I certainly didn’t want to find him. My adoptive father beat me until I was hospitalized, making me miss my graduation ceremony. I didn’t tell Ryan, but Liam found out anyway. In the crowded hospital room, reeking of antiseptic, I saw Liam for the second time. He was still as composed as a mountain, refined as jade when he cast his gaze down, yet radiating an undeniable presence. My left cheek was bruised and swollen from my adoptive father’s beating, and every movement of my mouth was painful. I hid my left cheek, not daring to meet Liam’s eyes. “Did you learn self-defense for nothing?” His tone was laced with helplessness. “No, I didn’t learn for nothing,” I countered. I had deliberately not fought back. That way, I’d have evidence to sue the man and sever our father-daughter relationship. “Why didn’t you contact Ryan?” I lowered my head, my voice barely a whisper. “No reason.” Liam sighed. He turned and instructed Ryan to move me to a spacious private room and hire a caregiver. As he was about to leave, I tugged at his sleeve. He looked at me, his eyes devoid of emotion. “Mr. Tanner, I’ll pay you back.” “Have you decided what you’ll do?” “Yes, I’ve already interviewed for the Executive Assistant position with Mr. Vance at Horizon Corp. I start next week.” With the injury report, I smoothly severed ties with my adoptive father, finally gaining my freedom. An Executive Assistant’s salary was good, but to repay Liam as soon as possible, I remained frugal. After moving out of Liam’s property, I chose to share an apartment. My boss, Marcus Vance, was not an easy person to work for. Besides assisting him professionally, I also had to manage his private life. One day it was preparing an anniversary surprise for a university student, the next it was ordering flowers and gifts for a model… such tasks were commonplace. At an auction, Ryan and I both bid for a pair of earrings, the posthumous work of the famous jewelry designer Anna. After a few rounds, I could see his determination, so I gave up. As I was leaving, Ryan called out to me. He placed the brocade box containing the yellow diamond earrings in my hand. I stood frozen. “Boss’s orders.” After successfully acquiring the earrings, he reported the news to Liam. He also casually mentioned, “Autumn Valley was also at the auction, presumably for these earrings.” There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line, then a direct command: “Give them to her.” I tried to return the brocade box to Ryan, but he wouldn’t take it. “Mr. Vance sent you, didn’t he? If you don’t bring the item back, how will you report to him?” The earrings were what Marcus’s new girlfriend had her eye on. At worst, he’d yell at me when I got back. I was used to it. Ryan simply said, “Boss said they’re yours. You can do whatever you want with them.” Later, I learned that Liam had acquired those earrings for a project he was pursuing. The daughter of the project’s head particularly loved Anna’s jewelry designs. Getting those earrings would save him a lot of trouble. I still got an earful from Marcus because I couldn’t bear to give him the earrings. Many nights, looking at those earrings, Liam’s calm, restrained face would involuntarily appear before my eyes. But then, the earrings were stolen and sold by my roommate. I was so furious I beat her up, and it ended up at the police station. The officer told me to call someone to post bail. I looked at my contact list. After much deliberation, I called Ryan, repeatedly begging him not to tell Liam. However, as I walked out of the police station with him, the window of the black car waiting outside lowered, and Liam’s face appeared before me. I felt a little disoriented. It had been over a year since I last saw him. “Are you hurt?” Liam didn’t ask why I hit her. I shook my head. “You really liked those earrings?” Liked them enough to almost kill the person who stole them. I bit my lip guiltily. “They were very valuable.” “But I heard that person offered you all the money from selling them, yet you still didn’t let her off the hook.” My head drooped completely. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tanner. I caused you trouble.” He paused, then chuckled softly. “What kind of trouble is this?” Liam pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief and handed it to me to wipe the bloodstains from my hands. “Don’t dirty your hands for material possessions.” The handkerchief carried Liam’s unique, faint scent, and I couldn’t bring myself to soil it. Liam knew where I lived, but it was his first time visiting. The hallway walls were peeling, dark, and narrow, and the room inside was so small it was hard to turn around. A place that felt cramped for one person housed three. Liam subtly frowned. “You’ve been living in a place like this since you moved out of Cloud Creek? Are you that short on money?” He didn’t wait for my answer, instead, he instructed Ryan to go upstairs to pack my bags and move me back to Cloud Creek. Liam refused my offer of rent, so I suggested cooking him dinner. He raised an eyebrow: “Ryan said you’re a great cook?” I hadn’t expected Ryan to tell him even that. I loved to eat, and I loved experimenting with food. Once in college, when Ryan came to my apartment, I made him dinner. I walked into the kitchen, and Liam followed. He took off his suit jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and naturally picked up vegetables to wash. I was a little surprised. “I can manage by myself.” “I’ll help you out, we’ll be faster.” He moved continuously, his back tall and slender. He looked so much like the male lead from the comic I read last night. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, inviting all sorts of fantasies. After that day, Liam often brought groceries and joined me for dinner. Slowly, from initial awkwardness, I eventually became comfortable enough to unreservedly direct him to do tasks. Marcus Vance had a new celebrity girlfriend. On her birthday, she was filming on set and wanted him to visit. He didn’t have time, so he sent me with flowers and jewelry to soothe her mood. However, she was a fiery one. She took out all her anger towards Marcus on me. She splashed unfinished coffee without hesitation. Everyone on set watched in shock. Fearing they might be implicated, no one dared to step forward. I stood still, calmly allowing her to vent. I hoped that once she finished venting, she wouldn’t bother Marcus anymore. Otherwise, I’d be busy again. I still had dinner planned with Liam that evening. Just as I was zoning out a little, a cup of coffee, without warning, was also splashed onto the celebrity. It was still steaming slightly. I turned my head in astonishment, meeting Liam’s sharp jawline. He stood with one hand in his pocket, casually tossing the empty coffee cup onto a nearby table. This was the first time I had ever seen Liam angry. Even Ryan, who followed behind him, was wide-eyed in shock. I quickly pulled out tissues to wipe the celebrity. But Liam gripped my wrist, pulling me away. “I can’t leave.” If I just walked away like that, Marcus would never let me hear the end of it. Liam released me, his eyelashes slightly lowered. Our eyes met, and I clearly saw indignation in his gaze. “And now you don’t know how to fight back? Autumn, I’m genuinely curious what goes on in your head.” “I… she’s my boss’s new girlfriend. I can’t upset her.” These were just part of my job; I didn’t feel wronged. Besides, in such situations, Marcus usually offered a significant compensation afterward. No job came without its frustrations, and self-respect was often worthless in the face of money. Liam sighed helplessly. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Marcus so he doesn’t take it out on you.” Liam’s regular penthouse apartment was near the filming location. I showered at his place and changed into the clean clothes Ryan had prepared for me. When I came out, I saw Liam leaning back on the sofa, eyes closed, asleep. The fitted suit vest tightened at his waist, subtly outlining the firm lines of his abdominal muscles. His legs were relaxed, slightly parted, radiating a strong, masculine aura. It drew me towards him involuntarily. I stared at his face for a long time, then tiptoed over and gently removed his gold-rimmed glasses. Just as I was about to retreat, Liam slowly opened his eyes. At arm’s length, I couldn’t help but swallow, staring at his lips. “Mr. Tanner, I was just…” Before I could finish my sentence, his sudden kiss swept away all my words. His kiss, unlike his usual gentle demeanor, was forceful and relentless, an unending assault. After a long while, I collapsed weakly onto his chest, my legs having, at some point, wrapped around his. We were so close, we could feel the rhythm of each other’s beating hearts. As reason slowly returned, I felt a little embarrassed and tried to get up. But Liam held the back of my neck, pulling me even tighter into his embrace. “Autumn, will you be my girlfriend?” I looked up, surprised, and a smile slowly bloomed under his gentle gaze. I nodded furiously. At that young age, I believed that as long as we loved each other, we could be together forever. But I forgot that two people from different worlds, even if they occasionally intersected, would eventually drift apart. In our fourth year together, I became pregnant. Liam was overjoyed when he found out. Ryan chuckled, saying, “Looks like Boss’s proposal plan needs to be moved up.” While I was immersed in happiness, a video was sent to my phone. The video was secretly filmed through a door crack. Liam was sitting on the sofa with his back to the door, bare-chested, his lean back covered in crisscrossing blood marks. It was horrifying. The family doctor was carefully applying medicine to him. Each time the cotton swab touched a wound, his body trembled slightly. But from beginning to end, he didn’t utter a sound. [My brother loves you very much, but you might not understand our family. Our marriages are never our own to decide.] [Can you really bear to see him suffer so much for you?] [Autumn, for all he’s done for you, please let him go.] I never knew that, in places I couldn’t see, Liam had to pay such a painful price to get his family to accept me. His pride shouldn’t be repeatedly humbled because of me. When I handed him the abortion papers, his eyes instantly welled up. But he didn’t ask anything, merely pulled me gently into his embrace. He even thought up the reasons for me. “If you don’t want children, then we won’t have them. It must have hurt a lot, didn’t it? Autumn, I’m sorry. I won’t let such an accident happen again.” I coldly pushed him away. “Liam Tanner, not only do I not want a child, I don’t want you either. We… we’re breaking up.” In a perpetually rainy February, I left the city that had given me painful memories, yet also moments of happiness. I came to my adoptive mother’s hometown, Coastwood. Years ago, my adoptive father couldn’t have children, so they adopted me. Later, due to work, they moved me to Portside. After that, my adoptive mother passed away, and my adoptive father became addicted to gambling, his personality changing dramatically. The years before I met Liam were a nightmare. That’s why I loved him, and even more, I was grateful to him. Precisely because of this, I wanted him to remain the brightest sun, not drag him down from his pedestal. After my colleagues’ attention shifted from me, the conversation slowly moved to our newly appointed junior boss, Leo Vance. They said he had previously been expanding the market in Portside, then spent over half a year at a branch office before returning to headquarters. I paused, nervously confirming with a colleague. “What did you say? The junior boss came back from Portside?” “Yeah, you didn’t know?” My head buzzed. I found Leo again. “Mr. Vance, the friend you just mentioned… his last name isn’t Tanner, is it?” Leo looked surprised. “How did you know?” “The photo from earlier, can you unsend it?” Leo had sent the photo to Liam, then put his phone away. Hearing my question, he pulled his phone back out. It was already past the unsend window. Below the photo Leo sent, there were a few lines of text. [This company employee’s daughter, doesn’t she look exactly like you?] [I was stunned!] [If I didn’t know how pure you are, I’d swear she was your illegitimate child!] Just then, the person on the other end, who hadn’t replied until now, sent a new message. [Send me the address.]

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Seven years after my parents’ divorce, I made it into Harvard University. At the freshman convocation, I saw her. Eleanor Croft, there as a primary benefactor for the school. My mother. Her eyes met mine and she froze for a heartbeat. “Noah,” she started, her voice hesitant. “How… how is your father?” A bitter taste filled my throat. I turned to leave. She grabbed my arm, her voice urgent. “Tell your father I’ll call. We should all have dinner together.” My eyes instantly burned with tears. I tore my arm from her grasp. It was laughable. How do you have dinner with a dead man? 01 After the ceremony, my friend sidled up to me, speaking in a low, careful voice. “Noah, was that… was Eleanor Croft your mom?” I stared at the ground, saying nothing. Seeing my silence, he tried to comfort me. “You okay? I can’t believe she’s one of the school’s big donors.” He hesitated. “There’s that welcome dance this afternoon… you might run into her again.” I forced a smile, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got something this afternoon anyway, already got permission to skip.” He let out a small sigh of relief, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Don’t do that, man. That fake smile thing. It freaks me out when you do that.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Gotta go.” I hadn’t made it far from the auditorium when a professor jogged over and called my name, asking me to stop by the Dean’s office. “It’s about Eleanor Croft, isn’t it?” I said it as a statement, not a question. Before he could answer, I cut him off, my voice sharp. “Please tell her for me that we have nothing to talk about.” I started to walk away again. “I have to go.” The professor looked stunned for a second, a flicker of understanding in his eyes suggesting he knew some of the story. He quickly stepped in front of me, his tone complex. “Noah, I know it’s not my place to comment on your family matters. But Ms. Croft is your mother, after all. Whatever happened, surely it can’t be so bad. She just wants to see you…” So bad? Mother? A real mother doesn’t get her child’s father killed. She had made me an orphan twice over, taking both my parents from me in one fell swoop. This was the first time I’d seen her in seven years. I didn’t look as heartbroken as I felt, nor did I fly into the rage I once would have. I was calm, as if looking at a stranger. But I hadn’t let it go. I couldn’t. Not for my dad. Eleanor’s betrayal was a debt that could never be repaid. I left campus and went straight to the cemetery. I laid out the irises Dad had always loved, arranging them carefully before the headstone. The man in the photograph was vibrant, full of life and confidence. It was taken back when he and Eleanor were dating. Back then, they were the campus golden couple, a story everyone admired. Winning academic competitions together, spending endless hours in the library, representing the university and bringing home championships… From college sweethearts to husband and wife, from the research lab to the boardroom, they lived a life straight out of a movie. I even wrote a story based on them once. My friends all said it was the sweetest thing they’d ever read. But reality isn’t a story. And the ending was anything but beautiful. I wiped dust from the framed photo, a smile playing on my lips. “Dad, I’m in college now.” “I told you I’d make it. See? I didn’t lie.” “Remember you promised me? That when I got into college, we’d go to a concert together.” “I went by myself. The Eagles. Your favorite.” My voice cracked on the last words. “Dad… I saw her today.” “…I still hate her. And I hate myself even more.” 02 I left the cemetery and just wandered, aimless. It wasn’t until a passerby pointed it out that I realized my phone was ringing. A number I didn’t recognize. Eleanor must have gotten my contact information from the university. “Noah, I just want to see you and your father…” I hung up and blocked the number. I didn’t have a mother. I was better off without her. But she clearly wasn’t going to give up. A text from another number came through moments later. [Noah, it’s your mother. You wouldn’t want me to bother your grandfather, would you?] I stared at the screen, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fist. Seven years, and her shamelessness had reached a new level. I took a cab to the address she’d sent. She wore a couture suit, her posture regal, her grace effortless. She looked almost exactly as I remembered. But my father was gone forever. She saw me enter, put down the file in her hands, and stood up eagerly. “Noah, you’re here. Please, sit.” I didn’t move. She wasn’t angry, just kept a polite smile on her face. “I saw your academic record at the university. Very impressive. You’re my son, after all.” The praise was like acid in my ears. My achievements had nothing to do with her. In fact, it was because of her neglect and her attempts to hold me back that I had to fight so hard, to claw my way forward. Every sleepless night, every ounce of pain I swallowed, it was all thanks to her. I wanted to be a normal kid, sheltered under the wings of loving parents. What she called impressive was just what I had to do to survive. Just as I was about to speak, someone approached our table. “Eleanor, what a coincidence! And this is?” She smiled, a hint of pride in her voice. “This is my son, Noah.” While they exchanged pleasantries, I slipped away to the restroom. On my way back, I overheard the women talking in low voices. “Eleanor has a son that old?” “That’s her child with Samuel Croft.” “Ah, those two. They were the power couple of their day, built everything from the ground up together.” “Didn’t it end in a nasty cheating scandal?” “Goes to show you, people change. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen Samuel around in ages…” I walked past them and returned to the table. Eleanor glanced at me. “What took you so long? There are adults here, you know. You should have said hello.” I let out a short, harsh laugh. “So, Ms. Croft, what is it you wanted?” Her brow furrowed, her voice hardening. “Noah, what is that tone?” “None of your business!” I shot back. “And another thing, I don’t have a mother. So stop trying to act like one.” She slammed her hand on the table. “I see your father really did a number on you. Is this how you speak to your elders? Get him on the phone. This is between him and me, you have no right to interfere. Call him. Now.” My eyes blazed. “You want to see him?” I spat the words out. “Eleanor Croft, do you even deserve to?” SMACK. The force of the slap snapped my head to the side, my ear ringing. “I am your mother!” I started to laugh. There she was. The real her. A cold, ruthlessly selfish businesswoman. Her nature had never changed. Once she decided on something, she didn’t care who she hurt to get it. I had to admit, that same cold calculation was what got her to where she was today. When my father met her, she had nothing. It was my grandfather, a professor who saw her potential, who sponsored her education. From the university to the corporate world, she revealed a staggering talent for business in just a few short years. She was ambitious, strategic, and driven, completely shedding her Cinderella past. And my father… he was her most trusted partner. They chased clients together, my dad handling the difficult meetings and navigating the social minefield for her. They pulled all-nighters on proposals together, my dad right by her side. He was the one who helped her build the company’s foundation, landing the first crucial clients piece by painful piece. She absorbed all his effort, all his sacrifice, and turned it into fuel for her own ascent. Her career soared, and their love story was perfect. At their wedding, she made a promise to my grandfather. “Professor, I will love and cherish Samuel for the rest of my life.” Too bad promises are the cheapest currency in the world. Those beautiful words probably never breached the walls of her calculating heart. And my father’s “rest of his life”… Because of her, it ended at thirty-three. I stared straight into her eyes, my voice eerily calm. “When you were sleeping with my classmate’s father, did you remember you were my mother then?” [ To discover the full story, unlock the next chapter. ] 03 I was the one who introduced her to the other man. It was raining hard one day, and my mom came to pick me up from school. I saw my classmate and his dad standing by the road, soaked to the bone. On a whim of pity, I asked my mom if we could give them a ride. After that, the father, Mr. Lynn, came by our house to thank us. One thing led to another, and he became a family friend. It wasn’t until I saw him at my mother’s company one day that a knot of unease began to form in my stomach. Eleanor explained it away smoothly. “Mr. Lynn is a single dad, Noah, it’s not easy. The company had an opening that was perfect for him. I talked it over with your father, and he agreed it was a good idea.” I frowned, about to protest. She just smiled and tweaked my nose. “What are you thinking? Isn’t it a good thing to help your classmate’s dad? That drive he has… it reminds me of your father and me, back when we were starting out.” Her words reminded me of the story I was writing about them, so I let it go. The next time I saw Frederick Lynn, he had been transferred from the logistics department to the executive office. He was now Eleanor’s personal assistant. The promotion was too fast, too sudden. It made me sick with anxiety. The office gossip didn’t help. “Only Fred seems to be able to handle the boss’s temper.” “If she wasn’t married, you’d think he was her boyfriend.” “They just work so well together. It’s like they can read each other’s minds.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I stormed into her office and told her what people were saying. She just laughed. “You know how much I love your father. And Fred is your classmate’s dad. What could possibly happen? People will always talk, I can’t shut everyone up.” She stroked my hair. “Noah, don’t mention this to your father. His health isn’t good, it would only upset him.” Then she made a promise. “I’ll transfer him out of my office. After a while, the rumors will die down. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” Fred was transferred, but she also told me to stop coming by the office. She said I needed to focus on my studies and stay out of adult business. I thought my father was clueless, that he was being protected from it all. Until I skipped school one day and came home to find them shouting at each other. It felt like the world had dropped out from under me. I could barely breathe. Eleanor was cheating. With Frederick Lynn. My father had caught them. In her office. Together. Her so-called discretion was just a lie to keep me quiet. Banning me from the office wasn’t to protect me, it was to stop me from discovering more. I wanted to hear more, but then Fred rushed into the room. He stood in front of Eleanor, tears streaming down his face. “Sam, it’s all my fault, blame me…” Seeing his pathetic act, I snapped. I lunged forward and slapped him across the face. Eleanor reacted instinctively, shoving me back. My dad moved to shield me, and they both tumbled to the ground. She shot us a look of pure ice. “You need to calm down. We’ll talk later.” Then she turned and walked out, taking Fred with her, without a single glance back. 04 After that fight, my dad’s health took a turn for the worse. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was to appease my grandfather, but Eleanor pulled some strings. She brought in Professor Albright, the top cardiologist in the field. They consulted for days, creating a detailed surgical plan for my dad, carefully adjusting his medication and recovery regimen. For a while, his condition stabilized. I would race to the hospital every day after school. Seeing the color return to his cheeks, I let myself believe that everything would be okay. Until the day I saw Frederick Lynn’s car parked outside the hospital. My heart plummeted. I sprinted upstairs. In the hospital room, Fred was putting on a show of fake concern. “Sam, Eleanor sent me to check on you. She was worried you’d be lonely.” He leaned in closer. “There are some things she can’t bring herself to say. But since it’s come to this, why not just get divorced? A loveless marriage is torture for everyone involved.” His words were daggers. I was shaking with rage. How dare he say those things to my father, in his hospital bed? I grabbed the glass vase from a nearby stand and threw it at him. He yelped in surprise, clearly not expecting me, and staggered back. I was about to go for him again when a hand clamped down on my arm, yanking me back with brutal force. Eleanor was gripping my arm, her face a mask of fury. “Noah, have you lost your mind? Where are your manners?” We had a terrible fight. “That’s my father!” I screamed, tears blinding me. “He can’t handle this stress! Fred is doing this on purpose! If anything happens to my dad…” SMACK. A sharp slap cut me off. Eleanor’s eyes were cold as stone. “Can’t you just be reasonable for once? If you keep acting like this, you can forget about me paying for your father’s surgery!” She turned to my dad. “Control your son,” she warned. “You behave, and I’ll take care of you.” After that, she dropped the pretense. She barely showed up at the hospital anymore. But Fred’s provocations didn’t stop. He would “casually” let slip details about his life with Eleanor. A new designer watch she’d bought him. A supplementary credit card she’d given him. He even left a prenatal appointment card for Eleanor on my dad’s bedside table. I found it, of course. I hugged my dad, my voice choked with sobs. “Dad, as soon as the surgery is over, we’ll leave. We’ll go far away from them. I won’t let them hurt you anymore.” He forced a smile and patted my head. “My Noah’s all grown up. You can protect your dad now.” He pointed to a document on the table. “Don’t worry. I’ve already signed them. As soon as the surgery is done, I’ll give them to her.” He meant the divorce papers that had been sitting there for weeks. All I could think was, after the surgery. After he’s better, we can finally be free of her. But that thought never became a reality. My father’s condition suddenly took a critical downturn. The monitors shrieked, and the doctors said he needed emergency surgery. But we couldn’t reach Professor Albright. I couldn’t reach him, the hospital couldn’t reach him. I started frantically dialing Eleanor’s number. After countless calls that went straight to voicemail, she finally picked up. “Dad’s in critical condition, he needs surgery now! Why can’t anyone get ahold of Professor Albright?” Eleanor’s voice was laced with irritation. “Noah, stop making a scene. I know your father’s condition, it’s not time for the surgery yet. Fred’s mother has a heart issue, and she needs Professor Albright to operate. I’ve already arranged for other specialists to take over your father’s case.” “You just stay with him and stop being so dramatic. I’m very busy. If you need anything, call my assistant.” Right before she hung up, I heard Fred’s voice in the background. “Didn’t Sam walk in on us that day and he was fine? Noah’s probably just exaggerating.” A roar filled my ears, and the world went white. Everything after that is a blur. All I remember is the light above the operating room door going out. A doctor emerged, looked at me, and slowly shook his head. … I snapped back to the present, about to say something to Eleanor, when a familiar voice cut through the air. “Noah? I thought you were visiting your dad’s grave today. What are you doing here?” The woman beside me froze, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

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I’ve had a crush on Silas ever since sophomore year of high school. When his team lost a major rivalry game, his teammates jokingly suggested I should go “distract” the opposing team’s star player to help Silas out next time. I looked at Silas, who was nodding along in agreement with his bros, and I just smiled. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot.” I grabbed a Gatorade and handed it to the guy who had just dominated the court. Later, that same guy absolutely crushed Silas’s team in the playoffs. 1 In the dorm, Maya finished her makeup and turned to me. “Hey Clara, aren’t you heading out yet?” “Where to?” I asked, confused. Maya acted shocked. “No way. Silas didn’t tell you the team has a big scrimmage tonight?” Everyone in the room looked over. It wasn’t a secret that Silas was the golden boy—star quarterback, straight-A student, and the guy every girl wanted. “Why would he tell me?” I played it cool. Maya teased, “I thought you guys were close? I figured he’d definitely want his ‘number one fan’ in the stands.” Close? I guess. We grew up next door to each other and went to the same schools since we were kids. In high school, I confessed to him. He told me, “Clara, I’m focused on scouts right now. Let’s see where we are in college.” I waited. We both ended up at the same university. But nothing changed. Silas was the same as he was in high school—always surrounded by pretty girls, but always calling them “just friends.” Eventually, I realized I was just another face in his “friend” rotation. Seeing my silence, Maya smirked. “Our department is playing the Engineering guys tonight. Come on, Clara, just come with me.” The rejection was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it. Because of Silas, I still wanted to go. When we got to the court, one of his teammates spotted me. “Yo, Silas! Your shadow is here.” Silas looked up, his expression unreadable. “What are you doing here?” My heart sank. Was I really that unwelcome? Maya stepped in immediately. “Silas, I made her come. You only invited me, and I didn’t want to be bored.” Her voice was sweet, possessive. She was the invited guest; I was the intruder. 2 We sat in the front row, and the game started fast. Maya was screaming Silas’s name, cheering for every play. Silas kept glancing our way. Maya leaned in, whispering, “See how much he’s looking at me? I’m worried I’m distracting him.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Her worry was misplaced because Silas couldn’t have played worse if he tried. The Engineering team was a powerhouse. Their coordination and shooting percentage blew our guys out of the water. Half-time hit. Maya rushed over with water—only for Silas. He took it and drank, but before he did, he shot another look at me. The guys on the bench started talking about the other team. “Who is their number 7? Caleb Reed?” “He’s a beast. I heard he’s single. Maybe we should set him up with one of the girls from our department so he goes easy on us next time, haha.” Someone looked at me. “Send Clara.” Someone else nudged him. “Dude, shut up. You know Clara is into Silas.” “Even better. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?” “If he gets a girlfriend, he might not have the ‘stamina’ for the fourth quarter, catch my drift? Hahaha.” They made crude jokes at my expense, laughing loud enough for Silas to hear. Silas said nothing. Maya looked at him intentionally. “Silas, what do you think of that idea?” Silas shrugged, looking completely indifferent. “Yeah, why not? Whatever works.” Hearing that, the anger I had been holding onto suddenly vanished. It turned into cold clarity. I smiled. “Sure. I’ll try. I actually think he’s a much better player anyway.” Silas’s expression finally shifted. 3 I grabbed a cold bottle of water and walked toward the opposing bench. Caleb Reed was sitting there, laughing with his friends. I tapped his shoulder with the bottle. “Hey. Want some water?” The group went quiet and looked at me. I felt my face heat up. Up close, I realized he wasn’t just good at basketball—he was stunning. “Here we go,” one of his teammates muttered. “Caleb, another one. You gonna reject her—” The teammate stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. Caleb smirked and reached for the water. Our fingers brushed, and I felt a jolt of electricity. I pulled back instantly. “Thanks,” he said, his eyes locked on mine. “No problem,” I said, turning to leave. A lazy voice trailed behind me. “Wait. You’re giving me water but going back to cheer for the other team?” I froze. The buzzer sounded for the second half. “Here, sit.” Caleb stood up to head onto the court, leaving his seat empty. His friend, Jackson, waved me over. “I’m Jackson. Who are you? You’re definitely not an Engineering major. You’re the first girl whose water Caleb has actually accepted.” The first? Well, at least the universe didn’t let me get rejected in front of Silas. Jackson was a chatterbox. He asked a million questions. “Doesn’t he get tired?” I asked, pointing at Caleb. He had played every minute so far. “Caleb? Man’s a machine. He could finish this game and go run a 5K just for fun.” Jackson’s exaggeration made me laugh, breaking the tension of sitting on the “enemy” side. Caleb suddenly jogged over. “Jackson, swap with me. You’re in for the fourth.” Jackson groaned. “Caleb, I’m beat.” “You seem plenty energized to me. You haven’t stopped talking for ten minutes. Get in there.” Caleb’s hair was soaked with sweat. He wiped his face with a towel and sat down right next to me. “What are you guys laughing about?” I blinked. “You were watching us from the court?” “I have great vision,” Caleb said, a confident tilt to his lips. “How else do you think I make those three-pointers?” 4 The result was a blowout. When Silas’s team came over to shake hands, he looked miserable. His eyes cut past Caleb to me. “You still haven’t left? Is it that fun sitting over here?” It was just a scrimmage. I didn’t get why he was being so aggressive. I shrugged and looked at Caleb. “I have to get back to my friends. See ya.” As soon as I got to Maya, she was prying. “Clara, did you know Caleb Reed before tonight?” “Just met him.” “Wow, Clara is just so popular with guys. I could never compete.” She said it loud enough for the whole group to hear. I frowned. She was laying the “pick-me” act on thick. Silas suggested getting late-night pizza. Maya looked at me with fake concern. “Clara, I’m going with the guys. You don’t mind walking back to the dorm alone, right?” “Fine by me,” I nodded. “You’re coming too,” Silas commanded. Maya’s smile faltered. In the past, if Silas invited me to dinner, I would have been over the moon. But tonight, I had no desire to watch him flirt with other girls. “No thanks. I’m tired,” I said. Silas acted like he didn’t hear me. “Don’t you love that new pizza place by the stadium?” I had sent Silas the link to that place the day it opened, asking him to go. He always said he was “too busy”—meaning he was busy with his new “friends.” I met his eyes. “That was a long time ago. I’m not hungry for it anymore.” Later, lying in bed, I scrolled through Instagram. Silas had posted five minutes ago. A photo of him and Maya. Caption: Lost the game, but won the girl. My thumb hovered over the screen. For years, seeing Silas with other girls hurt. But seeing this? I felt a strange sense of relief. Good for him. As a “friend,” I should be happy. 5 “Hey babies, pizza’s here!” Maya walked back into the dorm with two boxes. “This place is so good. I had to bring some back for you guys. Silas’s treat!” My other two roommates rushed over. “Silas is so sweet to you. We saw the post—is it official?” They glanced at me. “I guess the secret’s out,” Maya giggled. When I didn’t move, she walked over to my bed. “Clara, want a slice?” “No thanks, I already brushed my teeth.” “Too bad. I got this specifically for the room.” My phone buzzed. A DM from Silas: [I sent some food back to the dorm. Did you eat?] Silas was always like this. After he rejected me in high school, he brought me my favorite breakfast the next day, saying he “happened” to pass by the bakery. He gave flowers to another girl at a talent show, but waited an hour afterward to drive me home. He bailed on our graduation trip to go with a group that included a girl I hated. I didn’t speak to him all summer, but he showed up before move-in day to help me pack, promising my parents he’d “look after me” at college. One slap, one piece of candy. And I had eaten it up every time. I told myself he just wasn’t ready for a relationship in high school. I told myself I was special to him. But he didn’t love me. He just didn’t want to lose his safety net. It was time to wake up. 6 The next day, in the guys’ dorm. Caleb checked the time and shut off his PC. Jackson looked up from his monitor. “Caleb, where are you going? The raid is just starting.” “Class.” Caleb grabbed his phone and headed out. “Dude, it’s an elective! Who actually goes to those? Just stay and play!” Jackson yelled at his back. I had just sat down in the lecture hall when I got texts from Silas and Maya. Silas: [I’m skipping today. Sign me in.] Maya: [Silas and I are on a date! Can you cover for us and sign us both in?] I tapped out a quick “K” on my phone, feeling annoyed. Suddenly, a familiar voice sat down beside me. “Small world.” I looked up. Caleb. “Can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the empty chair. I nodded. “Thanks for the water yesterday,” he said. My heart skipped. I prayed he wouldn’t ask why I gave it to him. He didn’t. He just pulled out his phone. “We should trade numbers. You know, for ‘class notes’.” I looked at him, skeptical. “Class notes?” Caleb grinned. “Or so I can save you a seat next time.” I looked around at the half-empty room. There were plenty of seats. The class was Film Appreciation. Today, the professor was showing a clip from Old Yeller. I knew I was in trouble. I’m a sucker for dog movies. Last week, she showed Eight Below, and I cried so hard the professor called on me to explain the “emotional resonance” of the scene in front of everyone. I decided to just look at my phone and ignore the screen. “Not watching? Afraid you’ll cry?” Caleb whispered. “How did you know?” “I was here last week. It was… memorable.” I blushed. Caleb chuckled and slid a travel pack of tissues across the desk. “It’s okay. You can cry. I brought backup.” 7 After class, I went to the restroom to splash cold water on my face. The professor had indeed called on me again. “Clara seems to have the deepest connection to these films. Clara, tell us the difference in the themes of loss between the two movies.” The whole class laughed. It was social suicide. I walked out of the restroom to find Caleb leaning against the balcony railing, scrolling through his phone. “You’re… still here?” Caleb put his phone away. “Waiting for you.” As we walked back toward the dorms, I couldn’t figure it out. Why was he waiting for me? Was he just this nice to everyone? I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notice the electric scooter zipping around the corner. Caleb moved fast, pulling me toward him. The girl on the scooter panicked, swerved the wrong way, and slammed right into Caleb’s leg. 8 Caleb was wearing shorts, and his knee was already turning a nasty shade of red. “Are you okay?” I asked frantically after the girl apologized and left. “We should go to the campus clinic.” Caleb laughed. “Clara, if I go to the clinic for a bruise, the nurse will tell me I’m lucky I didn’t die of a paper cut.” I turned red. I remembered a boba shop nearby and told him, “Wait here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” I bought two drinks and asked for a bag of ice. When I got back, Caleb was sitting on a stone bench. He smiled when he saw me. “I thought you went to buy me a ‘get well soon’ balloon.” “Very funny.” I handed him the ice. “Hold this on your knee so it doesn’t swell.” He took it, teasing, “You’re more worried about my leg than I am.” “Of course! You have a big game coming up. I can’t be the reason you’re off the court.” I sat next to him, sipping my boba. “The other one is for you… I didn’t know what you liked, so I got my favorite.” Caleb turned to look at me. “Clara, has anyone ever told you that you’re adorable?” I blinked. “Uh, yeah. Sometimes.” Then I realized what he was actually saying. My face went scarlet. The air between us felt heavy and quiet until Caleb spoke again. “Clara.” “Yeah?” “I was really happy you gave me that water yesterday. Come to the next game and cheer for me, okay?”

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Julian spent $100,000 on a fireworks show for his newly hired secretary. He even remembered to text me: [Elena, I’ll give you a fireworks show on our tenth anniversary.] That was exactly what I wanted ten years ago. Back then, we were broke. After getting our marriage license, we could only afford sparklers. Now, watching the sky light up with fireworks, I scrolled back to our announcement video from ten years ago, took a screenshot, and posted it on my feed: [In the end, it all comes down to this.] Julian didn’t come home that night. The next day, I had a courier deliver him a divorce agreement. Arriving with it was a letter from a slow-mail service, sent ten years ago. In the letter, Julian had handwritten: [Did I love Elena a little more today?] 1 As soon as he received the divorce agreement, Julian called me immediately: “Elena, what are you making a fuss about now? “Do you find it amusing to bring up divorce over every little thing? “You’re thirty this year, not three. Can you act a little more mature?” He was furious. His tone was filled with blame. Before I could reply, a coquettish female voice came through the phone: “Mr. Vance, don’t be angry. Sister probably didn’t mean to argue with you. She’s just getting older and might be in a bad mood. Just coax her a little and she’ll be fine.” Julian seemed even angrier: “Shut up.” Then he yelled at me: “Elena, I’m coming back now. We’ll talk this out face-to-face.” 2 Right after he hung up, I received a notification for new social media posts. A girl named “Blooming Youth” posted three times in a row: [Ugh, my ‘brother’ actually yelled at me. His punishment is not seeing my smile for a whole week.] The accompanying picture was of Julian’s CEO office. [Hehe, my ‘brother’ apologized. He said the woman at home was acting up again and told me to be a good girl and not to cause trouble. Fine, I forgive him.] The picture was of two cups of premium bubble tea. [My ‘brother’ has to go home and coax that old hag again. Older women really are so demanding. Unlike me, I only feel sorry for him.] The picture was a side profile of a pale, innocent face. She was Julian’s newly hired secretary, Chloe. Three months ago, Julian desperately needed a document and sent Chloe to our house to get it. I happened to be home at the time. The young girl, barely in her twenties, wore light makeup. Her cheeks were fair and plump. Her high ponytail swayed in the breeze. She wore casual sportswear. She gave off the vibe of an innocent high school girl. After getting the document, she smiled and asked for my social media handle. Without thinking much of it, I agreed. Before leaving, she affectionately hooked her arm through mine: “Elena, what’s your skincare secret? You don’t look like you’re pushing thirty at all. No signs of aging. “Unlike me, I’m barely twenty and I feel like I’m already getting wrinkles.” She smiled brightly. Her eyes looked sincere. I put on a professional, fake smile: “It’s simple. Don’t say things you shouldn’t, and don’t do things you shouldn’t.” After that day, I talked to Julian about Chloe. He chuckled playfully: “What, are you jealous? “She’s just a naive little girl fresh out of school. Don’t worry, she’s no threat to you. “Besides, HR hired her, and you know our company’s processes are very transparent. “Moreover, don’t you trust your husband? We fell in love at seventeen, married at twenty, and it’s been almost ten years now. “No one can destroy our relationship.” At that time, I looked at the earnest Julian in front of me. His youthful vows still echoed in my ears. True love conquers all. But no one ever mentioned that true love could also create those very obstacles. 3 Yesterday was the company’s ninth anniversary. It was also a major milestone as the company’s profits surpassed one billion dollars. As the Vice President, I should have been there. But there was a problem with a contract from a major client down south. The client had to be appeased immediately. Julian couldn’t leave. And since we signed the client together and had been working with them for over five years… He only felt comfortable if I went. Although I was the Vice President, I had gradually been relinquishing my power since last year. I was preparing for pregnancy. I only participated in company affairs occasionally. I was confident about this business trip. After settling everything, I went home and crashed. I just didn’t expect the company’s celebration banquet last night to be so “exciting.” At 10 PM, Julian called to check in: “Elena, I won’t be coming home tonight. The veteran employees want to celebrate until 3 AM. You’ve had a hard day, get some good rest.” I had complaints, but I swallowed them. It was the company’s ninth anniversary, growing from a mom-and-pop shop to the leading enterprise in the city. The employees who had fought alongside us deserved to be rewarded. I simply reminded him: “No smoking, and don’t drink too much. We’re still trying for a baby.” “Yes, ma’am!” His phone call chased away my sleepiness. The red notification dots on my social media app practically begged to be clicked. Amidst the overwhelming sea of updates, I immediately locked onto Chloe’s. [He said he couldn’t promise me all his love, so he promised me a sky full of fireworks instead.] The accompanying pictures were nine live photos of a hundred-thousand-dollar fireworks show. The fireworks clearly spelled out the initials “CC.” I clicked on the first live photo. A deep, lingering male voice instantly turned my hands and feet to ice: “Little Chloe, has your eighteenth birthday wish come true now?” It was Julian’s voice. At the same time, I received a voice message from Julian: [Elena, the company’s fireworks show is beautiful tonight.] [Wait until our tenth anniversary, I’ll give you a fireworks show just for you.] The exact same voice. Just lacking a bit of intimacy and indulgence. Refusing to give up, I went back to Chloe’s post and clicked on the second live photo: “Brother, is this fireworks show really just for me?” Third live photo: “Yes, just for my little Chloe.” Fourth live photo: “But these are clearly the company’s fireworks. They’re not just mine.” Fifth photo: “The company’s banquet didn’t have fireworks planned. I custom-ordered these for you.” Sixth photo: “Be a good girl. They’re just benefiting from your special treat.” … Nine live photos completely shattered the illusion of my beautiful romance. I stood on the balcony. From the eighteenth floor, the entire city spread out before me. Clusters of blue and purple fireworks exploded in the sky. Chloe’s updates kept coming, one after another. [Let those unspoken feelings drown in this sky full of fireworks.] … It was as if she were mocking pathetic me. Ten years ago, I also wanted a fireworks show just for myself. 4 Back then, Julian and I had just graduated from college. He majored in software engineering, and I majored in economics. He wanted to start a tech company. And I had passed the civil service exam in my hometown. Coming from a small town, we had no backing. Everyone around us mocked him for his pipe dreams. But when he looked at me with hopeful eyes, I didn’t hesitate to throw away my secure job and follow him to the big city. During our poorest year, we got our marriage license. Tears welled up in his eyes: “Elena, I’m sorry. When we’re successful, whatever wedding gift you want, I’ll make it up to you.” At the time, I still loved romantic dramas. The male lead always confessed his love deeply under a sky full of fireworks. So, I told him: “I want a fireworks show that belongs only to Elena.” That day, we played a fireworks scene from a TV show. We lit sparklers. And made a vow to be together forever. Now, the company had been running for almost ten years. The fireworks show that was once out of reach, Julian could easily throw hundreds of times. Yet he custom-ordered a hundred-thousand-dollar fireworks show for his little mistress first. Now, clicking on the video we took the day we got our marriage license… The girl holding a sparkler, smiling sweetly at the camera, looked so naive and ridiculous. So, no matter how deeply we once loved each other… This is how it all ends! I had been deceiving myself, refusing to believe the clues that had long been obvious. … A noise came from the entryway. Julian was back. 5 His anger seemed to have subsided significantly: “Elena, let’s not fight anymore, okay?” He held a pink envelope in his hand. It was the proof of love we left at a slow-mail shop in the city ten years ago. At the time, I badgered him to see what he had written in the letter. He hugged me tight and whispered in my ear: “Elena, the me ten years from now will give you the answer.” The warm breath, the youthful flutter. It was a beautiful memory that made me blush every time I thought about it. He had put my contact information on that letter. This surprise from ten years ago had now become a joke. I looked at the envelope and asked, “Julian, did you love Elena a little more today?” His expression froze, and he said somewhat awkwardly, “Of course.” I pressed, “Of course what?” He replied, “Of course I love Elena.” I continued, “Who ‘of course loves Elena’?” He looked displeased, “Elena, why are you getting more melodramatic as you get older? Julian loves Elena. Are you satisfied now?” I took the envelope from his hand and opened the yellowed letter: “Julian, ten years ago you wrote: ‘Did I love Elena a little more today?’” “But ten years later, you don’t love me more. Because you’ve transferred that love to someone else.” He rubbed his temples in frustration: “Elena, we’re not kids anymore. Can we stop being so dramatic? “I’ve told you I’ll only love you in this life, and you will be my only wife.” I played Chloe’s live photo. Julian’s deep but clear voice came from it: [Little Chloe, has your eighteenth birthday wish come true now?] [Be a good girl. They’re just benefiting from your special treat.] Hearing his voice, Julian snatched the phone away: “Elena, is this fun for you? Having me followed!” Seeing that it was Chloe’s post, he hurriedly explained: “That kid said she’d never seen a fireworks show. As her boss, I was just fulfilling her wish.” His explanation was truly laughable. “So you custom-ordered a hundred-thousand-dollar fireworks show for her? Mr. Vance, you are truly generous. “You’ve read the divorce agreement, right? If there are no issues, just sign it!” Seeing my firm stance, he finally realized I was serious. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, his tone filled with resignation: “Elena, stop arguing with me, okay? I have absolutely crossed no lines with Chloe. “I just think she looks a little like you did ten years ago: clumsy, silly, with a fearless drive. “This fireworks show was entirely because she casually mentioned it was her 18th birthday wish, and it reminded me that your wish at 20 was also to have a fireworks show. “That’s why I agreed. Honestly, I did this for the 20-year-old you. “And I promised, on our tenth anniversary, I’ll give you an even grander fireworks show.” I really don’t understand men. Why would compensation for a lover be given to a mistress? His lover is right here, isn’t she? I didn’t know how to respond to him. I could only crouch on the floor, burying my head in my arms. I tried my best to hold back my sobs. But my body wouldn’t stop shaking. Julian hugged me from behind: “Elena, give me a little more trust, please? “We went from school uniforms to wedding attire. I would never betray the sincere heart you showed when you ran to me without hesitation. “Actually, I have some good news.” 6 He grabbed my hand. His index finger constantly stroked my wedding ring. “Before I came back, Arthur called me and told me you’re pregnant.” Julian and I had been trying to get pregnant for over a year. But there had been no good news. A week ago, we went to the hospital for another checkup. The doctor was our mutual friend—Arthur. The three of us went to college together. Arthur was a groomsman at our wedding. Now, this good news was delivered by our good friend. If Chloe wasn’t around, how wonderful this would be. I slowly raised my head. The tear streaks made my face look even more haggard: “Julian, what did you say?” He gently wiped away the teardrops from the corner of my eye: “Elena, we’re having a baby. We’re going to be parents.” I let out a mocking laugh: “A baby is only willing to come to a family where the father loves the mother. Julian, do you think this baby wants to come?” He held me tightly in his arms: “Elena, what exactly do I have to do for you to believe that I love you?” I broke free from his embrace, looked up, and met his eyes: “They say, ‘Where a man’s money is, his love is,’ right?” He seemed to see a glimmer of hope: “Elena, all my assets are in your name. What else do you have to worry about?” I sneered: “Julian, you run a company. I think you should be very clear about how marital property is divided.” Perhaps out of guilt for his infidelity, or perhaps eager to prove his love so I would safely deliver his child… That very day, we signed a marital property agreement in front of a lawyer. The agreement stipulated that all real estate under our names would belong solely to me, and the other party would no longer have any rights or interests in those properties. At the same time, we notarized the agreement and registered the transfer of the real estate. A week later, I received five properties and three commercial storefronts. Along with the five million dollars in our joint account. Julian and I maintained a superficial peace. This embryo became the only bond between us. Sustaining this fractured marriage. I no longer brought up Chloe. He also seemed to forget that I had brought up divorce. Instead, he started instructing the nanny to prepare nutritious meals. Every day, he would send me flowers, bags, jewelry, and clothes in different ways. Men can be so pathetic. Half a month later, Arthur called, urging me to go in for a prenatal checkup. In the examination room, his voice was slightly hoarse: “Elena, how have you been lately?”

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For the first time in seven years, I returned to the Miller estate for Christmas Eve dinner. When I saw my foster sister, Sophie, our eyes met, and the air between us went cold—a heavy, suffocating silence that neither of us knew how to break. During the first course, my foster father, Henry, reached over and patted my shoulder. His hand felt heavy, like a ghost from a life I’d tried to bury. “Silas, having you move out back then… it was a desperate situation. I hope you don’t hold it against us.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He took a sip of his wine and added, “But your timing is perfect. Sophie is getting married next week.” I knew exactly what he was doing. He was marking his territory, reminding me of the boundaries I had supposedly crossed nearly a decade ago. I pressed my lips together, my thumb brushing against the cool metal on my left hand. I raised my glass toward Sophie. “Then let me be the first to say it. Congratulations, Sophie. I wish you a happy marriage.” Sophie didn’t drink. Her gaze was locked on the diamond band glinting on my ring finger. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. My foster mother, Diane, let out a sharp, surprised breath. “Silas? Where did that ring come from?” I looked around the table at the people who had raised me, then discarded me. A bitter, dry laugh escaped my throat. “I forgot to mention. I’ve been married for seven years.” 1 Henry’s brow furrowed into deep, judgmental lines. “Seven years? You were barely twenty. What kind of nonsense is this?” “We are your parents, Silas—even if not by blood,” Diane chimed in, her voice shrill with a hurt that felt performed. “A marriage isn’t a small thing. How could you not tell us?” Seven years ago, they hadn’t “asked” me to move out. They had cast me out into the cold because I was accused of having “vile intentions” toward their biological daughter. I was the stray dog they’d taken in, only to decide I had rabies the moment things got complicated. I didn’t tell them about my marriage because, for seven years, they hadn’t existed to me. But they had raised me for fifteen years before the fall, and some part of me—the part that still remembered the boy who just wanted to belong—couldn’t quite bring itself to hate them completely. I looked at Henry, my expression a mask of calm. “I’m telling you now. In fact, I asked my wife to join us tonight. I wanted her to meet the family.” Diane, sensing the tension reaching a breaking point, tried to smooth it over. “Well, it’s Christmas. The fact that Silas came home is enough. Where is she, then? Your wife?” I glanced at my watch. The Rolex was a gift from her. “She had a last-minute conference call. She’ll be here in about two hours.” Throughout the meal, I felt Sophie’s eyes on me. It was a weight I refused to acknowledge. Finally, unable to handle being ignored, she pushed her chair back. “Mom, Dad, the tailor finished the final adjustments on the gown. Bennett went to pick it up, but I should go meet him. It’s a lot to carry.” She paused, her fingers drumming on the mahogany table right in front of me. She looked down at me, her eyes a swirling storm of confusion and something that looked dangerously like resentment. “Silas, you haven’t met your future brother-in-law yet. Why don’t you come with me to pick him up?” I wanted to say no. The “no” was right there on the tip of my tongue. But I felt Henry and Diane watching me, their eyes narrow with suspicion, waiting to see if I’d fold, waiting to see if I still carried that old, pathetic torch for their daughter. I stood up. I had to prove to them—and maybe to myself—that the boy who loved Sophie Miller was dead. On the way to the garage, the winter air bit at my skin. Sophie broke the silence first. “How have you been, Silas? Really?” I didn’t look at her. I watched the snow falling into the driveway. “I’ve been fine.” She stumbled slightly, her pace faltering. She looked like she wanted to say a thousand things, but in the end, she just hurried to the car. She reached for the passenger door, swinging it open for me with a practiced, familiar grace. I walked right past her and climbed into the back seat. Sophie’s reflection in the rearview mirror showed a sharp frown. “Do you really have to be this cold?” I turned my head to the window, watching the skeletal trees of the estate blur past. “Your fiancé is waiting. Let’s not keep him.” She let out a long, frustrated sigh and put the car in gear. “His name is Bennett. You should try being polite.” I didn’t answer. We drove in a silence so thick it felt like physical pressure. When we pulled up to the luxury bridal boutique downtown, the door was opened almost immediately by a man in a tailored charcoal overcoat. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad—polished, wealthy, and perfectly coiffed. “Sophie, babe, I told you I’d handle the dress,” he said, sliding into the passenger seat. He immediately took off his cashmere scarf and wrapped it around Sophie’s neck. “It’s freezing. I can’t have my bride-to-be catching a cold.” Sophie’s expression softened instantly. “I just wanted to see you.” They shared a nauseatingly sweet moment before the man—Bennett—noticed me in the back. “Oh,” he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Bennett, this is Silas,” Sophie introduced us, her voice tight. “My brother.” “Silas, this is Bennett Crawford.” I gave a polite nod. “Nice to meet you, Bennett.” Bennett didn’t offer his hand. Instead, he leaned back, looking me up and down with a smirk that set my teeth on edge. “So, this is the legendary Silas? The foster brother who was… let’s say, fond of you, Sophie?” The air in the car turned arctic. “Wait, I didn’t mean—” I started, but Bennett cut me right off. “I’m just kidding, man. Relax,” he said, though his eyes were sharp and mocking. “Unless you still have those… uncleanthoughts about your sister?” I felt a flash of heat in my chest, but I suppressed it. I simply lifted my left hand, letting the light catch my wedding band. “You’ve got the wrong idea, Bennett. I’ve been married for a long time.” 2 The drive back felt like an eternity. I leaned my forehead against the cold glass of the window, my mind drifting back to a time before the silence. Twenty years ago, my parents had been killed in a mountain climbing accident while saving Henry Miller’s life. The Millers had taken me in out of a sense of profound, heavy debt. I remembered arriving at that massive, intimidating house as a child, screaming for my mother in the middle of the night. It was Sophie—two years older and infinitely braver—who had sat by my bed every night, whispering stories until the grief receded. I had loved her with the clumsy, overwhelming intensity of a boy who had nothing else to hold onto. During puberty, I mistook that desperate gratitude for romance. I wanted the whole world to know she was mine because she was the only thing that made me feel like I wasn’t an intruder in my own life. Sophie hadn’t pushed me away then. She’d just laugh, ruffling my hair. “Silas, you’re always stuck to me. How are you ever going to find a wife if you’re chasing your sister?” “I don’t want anyone else,” I’d tell her, with the terrifying sincerity of a fifteen-year-old. “I’m only ever marrying you.” She’d smile then, her eyes bright and soft. “It’s a deal, then.” Those whispered promises felt like a fever dream now. When we reached the house, I got out of the car without a word and headed inside. Diane met me in the foyer, her eyes searching my face for cracks. “Did you meet Bennett?” she whispered. I nodded. “He seems… successful. They’re a good match.” She seemed to deflate with relief. She reached out, touching my arm. “Silas, listen. Even if you aren’t ours by blood, we always wanted the best for you. Some things… some mistakes from the past…” I gently removed her hand from my sleeve. “Diane. Don’t. There’s no point in digging up the past tonight.” She let out a long breath, then pulled me toward the living room. “You’re right. Let’s focus on the present. We have something for you.” She opened a velvet box on the coffee table. Inside was a Patek Philippe—understated, elegant, and incredibly expensive. I didn’t refuse it. I knew Diane. In her world, guilt was managed through high-end retail. If this watch helped her sleep, I’d take it. Despite the seven years of exile, I knew she had cared for me in her own limited way. She took the watch out of the box, gesturing for me to hold out my arm so she could fit it. I pushed back my sleeve. But before the metal could touch my skin, Bennett’s voice sliced through the room. “Mom?” He was standing in the doorway, his face twisted in a scowl. “Sophie spent three months tracking down that specific vintage piece for me. You’re just going to give it to him?” He walked over, his eyes cold as he looked at me. “My fiancée bought that. I don’t think it belongs on a stranger’s wrist.” Diane froze, caught between her husband’s future son-in-law and the boy she’d raised. I didn’t make her choose. I took the watch, set it back in the velvet lining, and looked at Bennett with a thin smile. “If your fiancée bought it, I wouldn’t dream of taking it.” Bennett stepped closer, his voice dropping to a hiss. “Good. At least you have some self-awareness. A charity case who got kicked out of the house shouldn’t be wearing thirty-thousand-dollar watches anyway.” 3 The room went deathly quiet. It was the one thing no one was supposed to say out loud. The “incident” was the rot underneath the floorboards of the Miller family, and Bennett had just ripped up the wood. But to his disappointment, I didn’t flinch. Seven years is a long time to build up scar tissue. Seeing that I wasn’t riled, Bennett opened his mouth to dig deeper, but Henry cut him off with a sharp bark. “It’s Christmas Eve. We aren’t going to bicker over a watch.” With the patriarch’s word final, Bennett just glared at me and subsided. Henry looked around the room. “The sun is down. Everyone, let’s head to the chapel.” The Millers had a private chapel on the edge of the estate, a tradition they took very seriously. As I stood up to follow, Bennett spoke again, his tone dripping with fake concern. “Wait, Dad. Didn’t Silas say he was married?” He turned to me, a predatory glint in his eye. “Shouldn’t we wait for his wife? It seems a bit rude to start the family tradition without the new ‘family member,’ doesn’t it?” Henry paused, considering. “He’s right. Silas, the first year of marriage is significant. She should be here for the memorial service. How far away is she?” I checked my phone. No new messages. “She hasn’t updated me. We should go ahead. I don’t want to hold everyone up.” “Why the rush?” Bennett asked, tilting his head. “Are you worried she won’t show? Or are you worried she doesn’t actually exist?” “The weather is bad,” I said, my voice level. “Planes get delayed. I just don’t want to waste everyone’s time.” Bennett turned to Sophie. His voice was soft, but his eyes were fixed on me. “Babe, we don’t mind waiting for Silas’s wife, do we?” Sophie looked at me, her expression unreadable. “It’s her first time here. We should wait.” She paused, a flicker of something—sadness? Bitterness?—crossing her face. “Besides… I’d like to see the woman my brother chose.” The air grew heavy again. I started to protest, but Bennett talked over me. “Come on, Silas. You look nervous. Did you just make her up so you wouldn’t look pathetic coming back here alone?” I frowned. “Why would I do that?” Bennett laughed, a low, ugly sound. “Who knows? Maybe because you’re still obsessed with your sister? Maybe you thought a fake wife would make us forget that you tried to drug her and force yourself on her seven years ago?” He leaned in, making sure everyone heard the next part. “You got caught like a dog and thrown out. If I were you, I’d be desperate to lie, too.” 4 Looking at Bennett’s sneering face, the humiliation I’d buried seven years ago surged back up like bile. Seven years ago, at the end of my nineteenth birthday party, I had cornered Sophie in the rose garden. I was shaking, unable to look her in the eye. “Sophie, I know you think I’m just a kid,” I’d told her. “But I love you. Not like a brother. Let me take care of you. Please.” Sophie hadn’t said anything. Her face was flushed deep red—I thought it was from the wine, or from the heat of the moment. She’d looked at me for a long time before whispering, “Silas, is this a dream?” Before I could answer, she had kissed me. She tasted like heavy liquor and desperation. I was terrified and thrilled all at once, responding with the clumsiness of someone who had never been touched like that. Then, a hand had ripped us apart. A stinging pain exploded across my face as Henry’s palm connected with my cheek. I remember the ringing in my ears, the sight of Henry’s face purple with rage, and the words “predator” and “assault” being hurled at me like stones. The guests had gathered, whispering. To them, Sophie looked disheveled and dazed—the perfect image of a victim. Henry had dragged her away that night. Diane had checked me into a hotel, telling me never to come back to the house. The rumors spread like wildfire. Online, I was branded a monster who had tried to violate his own foster sister. The university expelled me. The internet vitriol was a suffocating blanket. I begged Sophie to tell them the truth—that she had kissed me—but she stayed silent. Finally, the Millers paid for a one-way ticket to Europe and told me to disappear. It was the price of their “mercy.” Now, looking at Bennett, I felt a strange wave of pity. He was marrying a woman who had let a boy’s life be destroyed rather than admit to a moment of drunken weakness. Bennett mistook my silence for admission. “Do you have any idea how much shame you brought this family? If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to breathe, let alone show my face here.” He stepped into my personal space. “Look at you. You’re a curse, Silas. I heard your parents died right after you were born. Maybe you were the one who killed them, too.” The world went white. Before I even realized I’d moved, my hand connected with Bennett’s jaw. The crack echoed in the foyer. Bennett stumbled back, a hand to his face, shock written in his eyes. The relatives immediately swarmed. “What’s happening?” “Silas, for God’s sake! You can’t just hit people!” Seeing the audience, Bennett immediately slumped, putting on the act of the wounded party. Sophie’s eyes, usually so bright, turned sharp and cold. “Silas! No matter what happened, Bennett is your future brother-in-law. How could you lay a hand on him?” I was done with the charade. I looked her dead in the eye. “Does being a ‘brother-in-law’ give him the right to insult my dead parents?” I took a step toward her. “And let’s be clear, Sophie. You aren’t my sister. To me, you’re just a stranger I used to know.” Sophie flinched. “If Bennett said something to upset you, I’m sorry. I apologize for him.” Her voice hardened. “But you used violence. You owe him an apology. Now.” I felt that old, familiar ache in my chest. If she had stood up for me seven years ago the way she was standing up for this man now, my life would be entirely different. “Never,” I said. Sophie’s face fell. “Silas, what happened to you? You’ve become so… bitter.” She grabbed my wrist, her grip tight. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Apologize to Bennett.” She was holding me so tightly that if I pulled away, I’d send her sprawling. I didn’t want to hurt her—it was a lingering instinct I hated. But then, a slender, pale hand reached from behind me and firmly gripped Sophie’s wrist, forcing her to let go. Then I heard the one voice that always made the world feel steady again. “I think your fiancé is the one who needs to apologize.”

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We plunged into a Cursed-tier instance, a death trap, the system blaring warnings: “All player survival rates immediately reduced to zero!” My teammates shrieked, scattering in terror as malevolent spirits hunted them down. Only I found myself cornered by the unspeakable instance BOSS. Icy tentacles coiled around my ankles, and in my ears, the system’s alarms went haywire, glitching and breaking: [Warning! BOSS detected with abnormal emotional fluctuations! Warning! BOSS is… attempting to court the player?!] My blood ran cold. So, I looked at the creature before me, reeking of blood. Trembling… I kissed him. 1. The moment my eyes opened, a bone-chilling cold crawled up my spine. Even though I was wrapped up like a mummy, that icy dread pierced my bones like needles. My name is Elara Zahn, a frail individual suffering from “hyperalgesia” and “extreme cold sensitivity.” In this deadly infinite game, players with an F-rating for physical fitness like me are usually labeled “disposable consumables.” “Rookie?” a gruff voice boomed beside me. “Stop playing dead. Get up and work.” The speaker was a man with a scarred face, known as Randal. He was a veteran player, holding a blood-stained machete, looking at me as if I were already dead. This was a Chinese horror instance called Spirit Wedding. White lanterns hung everywhere in the courtyard, and crimson wedding characters adorned a coffin. The wind scattered paper money through the air. The system’s task was simple: survive three days as a guest and attend the final wedding. “This instance is a B-rank difficulty. You’ll live as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” Randal pointed to the tightly shut East Wing in the distance. “But someone has to scout ahead. Hey, you, the sickly one. You go.” I coughed twice, my face pale. “That’s forbidden territory.” The rules clearly stated the East Wing was the bridal chamber, off-limits to guests. Randal sneered, abruptly shoving me. “Just go when I tell you! In this team, a useless person needs to know their place. Either you go scout, or I’ll cut you down right now.” I stumbled a few steps, pushing open the rickety wooden door of the East Wing. Behind me, Randal and the other players jeered. Then, with a bang, the door locked itself behind me. 2. Inside, there was no musty smell as I’d expected. Instead, a strong scent of blood permeated the air. A grand, intricately carved bed stood in the center, its red canopy hanging low. Before I could even observe my surroundings, my heart clenched. Cold. Ten times colder than outside. My constitution made me extremely sensitive to temperature. This cold wasn’t just a drop in temperature; it was the precursor to a terrifying presence. My health bar began to deplete at a visible rate. [Health -10… -10…] If I didn’t find a heat source soon, I’d freeze to death before any ghost could kill me. “Creak—” The red canopy by the bed suddenly swayed open. A tall figure stood there, unnoticed until now. He was dressed in an elaborate, dark red wedding robe, wearing a grotesque bronze mask that left his pale jaw exposed. It was the BOSS. The Ghost Groom had appeared early, before the wedding night. The powerful sense of oppression made my knees weak, but I didn’t kneel. My instinct for survival made me stare intently at him. In my vision, he wasn’t a vengeful spirit claiming lives, but the only “heat source” in this ice-cold room. He raised his hand, his sharp, black fingernails pointing directly at my heart. Too fast. I couldn’t dodge. 3. A death trap. The instant his fingertips brushed the fabric over my chest, the cold nearly froze my blood. Perhaps I was insane. In the second before death arrived, instead of retreating, I threw myself forward with all my might. “Thud.” The sound of claws tearing skin didn’t come. I collided with a hard, cold embrace. Although cold, it was a surging power. The Ghost Groom seemed not to have expected my embrace, his movements stiffening for a moment. In that instant, I seized my chance. My hands trembling, I clung to his shoulders, tilting my head back. Along the lower edge of his cold bronze mask, I accurately found his lips. The moment my lips met his, it was like kissing a millennia-old block of ice. But I felt it. That violent, malevolent energy that had been poised to tear me apart suddenly halted. “Save me…” My voice, pressed against his lips, was as soft as a cat’s mew, laced with the tremulousness born of pain. “So cold…” This was a gamble. My unique constitution: a “divine lure.” In the real world, even stray dogs would inexplicably follow me home. If this ability worked on monsters, too… The system panel flashed wildly with red light. [Warning! BOSS logic detected as confused!] [Warning! Hatred value judgment failed…] [Warning! Affection system forcibly initiated…] 4. Time seemed to stand still. My waist suddenly tightened. It wasn’t a human arm, but something slick and tough, like a shadow. It squeezed my waist relentlessly, with such force it felt like he was trying to meld me into his own body. Pain. But I endured. I even softened my body obediently, burying my face in the crook of his neck. A sigh of satisfaction echoed above my head. It was the pleasure of a beast before a meal. “Found you…” a hoarse, low voice rumbled. The next second, the world spun. I was thrown onto the soft, grand bed. But the anticipated tearing and biting didn’t happen. Instead, a black mist gently enveloped me. The biting cold disappeared, replaced by a warm, cozy comfort. After an unknown period, the door opened. I adjusted my disheveled collar and pushed the door open to step out. Outside, Randal was leading his group, ready to collect my body and loot me. Seeing me emerge perfectly intact, he dropped the cigarette he was holding, startled. “You… you’re not dead?” Randal’s eyes widened, as if he’d seen a ghost. I ignored him, simply opening my palm. There lay a blood-red jade pendant, engraved with an ancient character for malevolence. The Ghost Groom had slipped it to me just now. Or rather, it was his “mark” left on me. 5. After emerging from the East Wing, the instance took a strange turn. The wandering spirits and specters that had been drifting in the courtyard now, upon seeing me, all cowered terrified against the walls, trembling. Wherever I walked, a path opened up automatically, as if Moses were parting the Red Sea. My body also felt off. The back of my neck always felt chilly, as if something was constantly wrapped around it. Even when I looked in the mirror, I could only see a pale patch of skin with a red bruise, like a hickey, or some kind of totem. The coldness of the jade pendant in my palm seeped into my bones, yet I felt a strange sense of… safety? This realization sent a jolt through my stomach. I had just kissed a monster, using an almost bewitching method to survive. Even more terrifying, I had, in that moment, tasted the power of control. I was using him. What about him? Was he truly momentarily confused, or was he playing along, enjoying the willing sacrifice of his prey? This thought plunged me into an ice-cold abyss, yet I also felt a faint thrill. This was a gamble, dancing with a devil. And I, it seemed, was born to stand at the center of the dance floor. By the second night, Randal finally couldn’t sit still any longer. He stared at the jade pendant in my hand, his greed overcoming his fear. “This kid must have made a deal with a ghost!” Randal incited the other players. “He’s radiating so much sinister energy; he might already be possessed.” “According to the rules, we must guard against ghosts, but also against ‘traitors’!” The other rookie players, already terrified, echoed his sentiment. “So what do we do?” “A vote.” Randal grinned sinisterly. “The system has a hidden mechanism: if more than half of the players vote someone to be an anomaly, they can summon a ‘Ghost Catcher’ to execute them.” 6. The vote took place in the ancestral hall. Five people, four votes cast against me. “Elara, don’t blame me for being ruthless,” Randal said, holding the ballot, his face radiating self-righteousness. “For everyone to survive, you must be sacrificed.” Randal stared at the increasingly prominent red mark on my neck, an unconcealable fear deep in his eyes. He had been through too many instances; he knew that those marked by a BOSS either became puppets or attracted an even more terrifying catastrophe. He didn’t want to gamble. Randal’s voice rose, both to persuade others and himself. “Voting to eliminate you isn’t to harm someone; it’s for purification!” “For all of us to live cleanly!” See? Once malice dons the cloak of “the greater good” and “purification,” it becomes self-justifying. As the vote took effect, the temperature in the ancestral hall plummeted. A three-meter tall Ghost Catcher, with a green face and tusks, emerged, dragging a soul-chain. It was an enforcer of the rules, an invincible NPC. Randal retreated triumphantly, waiting to see my soul dragged away by the soul-chain. I stood my ground, unmoving. I even felt a little like laughing. The Ghost Catcher menacingly charged towards me, raising its soul-chain. However, just as the iron chain was about to touch me, it stopped. Its murky eyes stared intently behind me, as if seeing something utterly terrifying. Its massive body began to tremble violently. “Clang.” The soul-chain dropped to the ground. 7. “What’s going on? Move!” Randal shouted, agitated. Behind me, there was no light, but my shadow, cast by the candlelight, stretched incredibly long. The shadow writhed, rising from the ground, transforming into a massive, indescribable black mist. From within the black mist, several inky tendrils slowly extended, resting on the Ghost Catcher’s shoulders. There was no sound. The once arrogant Ghost Catcher, as if erased by an eraser, was instantly swallowed by the black mist, without even a scream. A deathly silence fell over the ancestral hall. The black mist dissipated, and no monster appeared. But I felt it. The unseen presence stood directly behind me, its cold chin resting lightly on my shoulder, as if declaring its ownership to everyone. I bent down, picked up the soul-chain from the ground, and looked at Randal, who had collapsed onto the floor. A faint flush colored my pale face from the excitement. I smiled, my voice gentle. “It seems he listens to me more than to your so-called rules.” 8. After that night, no one dared to speak to me again. I was assigned the best room to rest in. Deep into the quiet night, I lay on the bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. Because I knew, the “bill” was due. The window wasn’t closed, yet the candle in the room suddenly extinguished. In the darkness, that familiar, clammy, cold sensation once again wrapped around my ankle. It was invisible, yet tangible. Unlike its protective presence during the day, it was now filled with aggression. It was the greed to utterly consume its prey. Unseen tentacles coiled around my wrists, pinning me against the headboard. “Today… I was very obedient.” In the darkness, that hoarse voice spoke again. This time it was beside my ear, carrying a moist breath. “I helped you.” Due to my sensitive skin, even slight pressure would leave red marks. My wrists were already beginning to throb faintly. “So?” I asked softly, trying not to tremble. “I want… payment.” The words had barely left his lips when a cold sensation covered me. It wasn’t a conventional kiss; it was more like tasting. It was inspecting every inch of my skin, checking if I carried anyone else’s scent. The shivering sensation of being completely controlled by a non-human entity almost suffocated me. I knew this instance was no longer just a survival game. I had provoked a madman. A malevolent deity who treated a horror game like a dating simulation.

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