Category: English

The customer I was picking up for this late-night ride was my brother, the one who’d cut ties with me nearly five years ago. I watched the two of them—him, my brother, and the crying girl in his arms—through the small rectangle of the rearview mirror. He was whispering gentle reassurances to her, swaying slightly with the alcohol. “Driver, take us to The Haven at Southwood, number one.” He looked up, and our eyes met. The command choked in his throat. “Iris? Is that… you?” He stared, unable to speak, the tremor in his pupils the only sign of his shock. I said nothing. I put the car in gear and pulled away, driving toward the mansion where I’d spent the first two decades of my life. When we arrived, he sat in stunned silence, a tell-tale redness creeping into the corners of his eyes. “Five years, Iris. Why didn’t you call me? I thought… I thought you were gone.” “Let the past stay the past,” I said, my voice flat. “Come home tomorrow. You’re still the family’s little princess, Anya. Nothing has changed.” I avoided the hand he slowly extended, pulling the surgical mask higher on my face to hide the still-ghastly scars from the accident. “No need,” I said, my tone a chill I hadn’t known I possessed. “We’re strangers now.” 1 Rhys’s hand, the one that used to ruffle my hair, froze mid-air. He pressed his lips into a thin line, his eyes wide with surprise. “Iris, are you still angry with me?” He paused, then forged ahead with the justification I knew by heart. “Look, with the accident, it was simply easier to get Lila out first. And after I got her safe, I immediately called the fire department for you.” I lowered my gaze, masking the desolate void and the corrosive mockery I felt. So, my dearest, most beloved older brother. After saving the girl who joined our family halfway through. You left me locked in the car to face the flames, losing half my face. “Understood. Please complete the payment on the app now. And if you’re satisfied with the service, please leave a five-star rating.” I glanced over, the professionalism in my voice absolute, devoid of any fluctuation. Rhys didn’t move. Instead, he gripped my hand. “Iris, no matter what, you are my sister. After Mom and Dad died, it was just us. We raised each other.” “And that crash… you were also at fault, don’t forget that.” “Lila has been beside herself with guilt since you left. Just come home, okay? Everything is water under the bridge. We can be a family again.” I pulled my thin jacket tighter around my shoulders. The weather wasn’t cold, but a profound chill was running through me. “I see. You want me to apologize to your…” I swallowed, my throat dry. “…to your sister? Fine.” I wrenched my door open, then yanked the back door ajar. As Rhys watched, his eyes wide and trembling, I bent down in a deep bow toward the back seat. “I apologize, Miss. It was all my fault. I was wicked and malicious, and I…” “Stop!” I was bent double, my gaze blurred and fixed on the asphalt. My eyes were burning, but no tears came. Rhys’s roar cut me off. I heard the rapid footfalls, then I was pulled up, stumbling into a familiar, warm embrace. “Iris, don’t do this.” His voice sounded shaky, and the arms holding me were desperately tight. For a brief, dizzying moment, I almost wavered. “You’re my little princess. Iris, how could you let yourself become like this? Where is the proud Anya Reed I knew?” I pushed him away, offering a wry, mocking smile. That pride? He’d shattered it himself. “Proud? Little Princess?” I gave a short, hard laugh. “As of five years ago, we ceased to have any connection whatsoever.” His pupils contracted. He was about to speak again when the drunken woman in the back seat finally stirred. She didn’t recognize me, only whined clingily for Rhys to hold her. “Rhys, my head hurts. I feel sick.” His expression instantly softened, becoming achingly gentle. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, soothing her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re home in a minute. You’re a good girl.” “Will you ever drink this much again?” Lila shook her head, rubbing her pale cheek against his chest. “Never.” I looked away. The old me would have flown across the seat and dragged Lila out. The me now? I felt absolutely nothing. Except… I looked through the window at my reflection—the part of my face the mask failed to conceal—and then at Lila’s face, which had transformed from its original raw, chapped state into something flawlessly translucent. A sense of dislocation washed over me. Everything had changed, and yet, here we were. Rhys looked back at me. “Iris, wait for me.” With that, he lifted Lila into his arms and carried her through the front door of that achingly familiar house. I let out a cynical chuckle, opened the trunk, and pulled out my compact electric scooter. I drove away into the cold night air. The streets were empty in the pre-dawn hours. The icy wind forced me to think. When I got home, my roommate, Sienna, immediately rushed me. “Iris! Thank you for styling me! I totally slayed that company gala tonight!” I managed a slight curve of my lips. “It’s fine.” She paused, then her face clouded with concern. “Iris, you look upset. What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I let out a shaky breath, then forced a burst of laughter. It was a hollow sound, masking the sudden clarity. For the first time in five years, I felt an overpowering need to speak. I pulled her down to the couch. “Let me tell you a story.” Rhys was eight years older than me. Our parents died in an accident when I was seven. In the aftermath, a fifteen-year-old Rhys shielded me from the vultures: the bloodsucking relatives, the rebellious shareholders, the media scrutiny. At that funeral, it seemed no one was truly grieving except for him and me. He chased everyone away like a wounded, roaring lion. Then, he held me, my small body convulsing with sobs, and made a vow. “Don’t be afraid, Iris. I’m here. Your brother will always protect you.” I cried myself unconscious in his arms. A girl of eight, suddenly orphaned, I couldn’t sleep. Rhys, exhausted from school and meetings, insisted on holding me every night, singing the lullaby Mom used to sing. We relied solely on each other for nine years. I thought we were each other’s most important person, a bond no one could break. But the year I started high school, everything changed. It began with the first call from Rhys after he’d been gone on a business trip for a full month. “Rhys! Why weren’t you answering my calls?” He paused. “Anya, I’m almost home. And I need to talk to you about something.” I immediately agreed. I knew how hard he worked to take care of me. “Okay, just come home. I was just worried.” But right before he hung up, I frowned. I thought I heard a girl’s voice. Less than half an hour later, I was standing at the front door as the Maybach pulled into the drive. “Rhys!” I ran toward him as I always did. “You’re finally back! I missed you, you—” I stopped dead when I saw the unfamiliar girl sitting in the passenger seat. My smile withered. “Who is this?” Rhys didn’t notice the change in my expression. He reached in, and with infinite tenderness, helped the girl out. “Iris, this is Lila. From now on, she’s Lila Reed. Our sister.” I stood frozen. A buzzing sound filled my ears. “Lila… Reed? Sister? Rhys, what are you talking about?” The girl was timid, her skin rough and darkened, and she looked painfully thin, radiating malnutrition. Rhys patiently explained. “During this trip, I was in a terrible car accident. If it hadn’t been for Lila, I would have died.” “What! You were hurt!” I completely forgot the strange girl, rushing to check him. But his eyes remained fixed on Lila. “She’s an orphan, Iris. From now on, this is her home.” I opened my mouth, but my throat was too dry to form a single word. “Fine,” I forced out. “I’ll take care of her.” Rhys smiled, casually ruffling my hair. Then, he turned and led Lila into the house, leaving me alone in the cold wind. I didn’t know then. That the arrival of this girl would utterly overturn my life. Sienna huddled on the couch, hugging a cushion, her eyes red. “So, that girl… she’s the one who started all of it?” I was silent for a moment. “No. It was both of them.” Under Rhys’s attentive care, Lila quickly shed her timidity. At the same time, her jealousy and subtle antagonism toward me grew more obvious. The next year, after Rhys and I visited our parents’ graves, I returned to school. Everyone looked at me differently. The whispers and stares made me profoundly uncomfortable. The moment I sat down, my desk-mate yelled. “Don’t touch me! Who knows what kind of dirt you’ve caught!” The room erupted in laughter. I froze, confused and uneasy. A girl who was usually nice to me secretly slid her phone over. “Anya, the girl in these pictures… is that you?” I looked down, focusing on the screen, and instantly snatched the phone away, my heart hammering with terror. “That is not me!” On the private school gossip app, a post titled, “High School Queen Exposed as Sugar Baby” was making my mind go blank. The photos were graphic. Some were obvious fakes, but some… had the background of my bedroom. A boy nearby started heckling. “Why wouldn’t it be you? Take a look at this one,” he pointed to a photo in my bedroom. “Someone said this is your house. Anya Reed, who knew? Bringing guys home to play, huh?” “I said, IT’S NOT ME!” I threw the phone back at him, my eyes blazing, silencing him instantly. Then, Lila, who had been silent, suddenly stood up and walked to my side. “Anya! If you did something wrong, just admit it! Everyone will forgive you!” I glared at her. “Did you do this?” Who else could have taken pictures of my bedroom? Who else could have accessed so many photos to Photoshop into that filth? Lila feigned confusion. “Do what? What are you saying, Sis? Don’t worry, no one is going to judge you.” I laughed coldly. And slapped her across the face, hard. “Anya Reed! Stop it right now!” The familiar voice was here, but all the tenderness was gone, replaced by fury and icy detachment. I watched Rhys rush to shield Lila, tenderly stroking her cheek, his face etched with pain. “Are you okay, Lila?” Then he looked at me, his eyes cold and accusing. “Look what you’ve done! Come home with me now!” “Rhys?” My feet felt like lead. Tears immediately flooded my eyes. “You don’t believe me? You think that’s me?” He didn’t hesitate. “Lila told me everything that happened. Anya, have I ever starved you or denied you anything? How could you pull a stunt like this!” “You’ve disgraced Mom and Dad!” That look of utter contempt and coldness shut me down. I opened my mouth to explain, but not a single word emerged. Sienna’s face was scarlet with fury as I spoke. “That bitch!” She looked at me anxiously. “So, Iris, did you ever clear your name?” I offered a cynical, empty smile. “Clear my name? No. He forced me to make a public confession in front of the entire school.” “He made sure everyone knew that I, Anya Reed, was nothing but a tramp.” I remembered kneeling in the main hall, my back rigid and straight. “I told you it wasn’t me! Rhys, everyone can doubt me, but you can’t!” Lila stood next to my brother, offering me a small, victorious smirk. Rage blinded me. I lunged at her. “My family took you in! How dare you!” But before I could touch her, Rhys stepped up, yanked Lila out of the way, and slapped me. The force of the blow snapped my head back. In that moment, all sound vanished. All I could hear was the memory of being eight years old, huddled in my parents’ funeral home, while a drunken, hateful relative harassed and struck us. Rhys had sheltered me, taking the beating. He’d smiled through his bruising face and told me: “Don’t be scared, Iris. With your brother here, no one can lay a finger on you.” That memory shattered, overwritten by the reality before me. I covered my stinging cheek. “Rhys…” I whispered. His hand froze mid-air. He pursed his lips. “Stay there! You will confess in front of the school tomorrow morning!” “I won’t!” I screamed, my voice raw and trembling through my tears. “Lila did this! She set me up!” Rhys’s face darkened completely. He walked to the shelf and retrieved a heavy, polished mahogany paddle, a family heirloom used for extreme discipline. “Still lying!” “Lila is our sister! She’s so kind, why would she hurt you?” “This paddle was passed down from Dad to maintain the honor of the family name. Today, I will educate you in Mom and Dad’s place!” Crack! The paddle sliced through the air and slammed into my back. I screamed, a searing fire spreading across my skin. The pain was so intense I collapsed. “Rhys,” Lila interjected softly. “Stop it. Maybe Anya didn’t mean it.” I dug my hands into the carpet, fighting for consciousness, glaring up at Lila. “Bitch!” Smack! Rhys didn’t stop. The next strike was heavier. “Still no remorse!” I writhed on the floor, the sound of leather hitting flesh ringing in my ears, Lila’s triumphant eyes mocking me from above. I don’t know how long it lasted. After the air filled with the scent of blood, my eyes rolled back, and I finally lost consciousness.

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The day I almost starved to death on the street, I found myself a dad. Shawn, sporting a shock of bleached yellow hair, pointed at himself and roared furiously: “I’m only eighteen! Do I look like your dad?!” Snot running down my face, I looked up at him pitifully and refused to say a word. Defeated by my silence, Shawn had no choice but to take me home. From that day on, everyone knew the local punk had adopted a daughter. Later, the fated day arrived when he was supposed to meet the heroine. The heroine danced gracefully in the rain, just to attract the hero’s attention. Shawn, who was supposed to be heartbroken and rush to hold an umbrella for her, instead hugged me and lectured: “See that? People like that have issues. If you ever do that, I’ll spank you until you can’t sit.” I nodded, snuggling obediently in his arms. Project: Save the Tragic Second Male Lead. Success. 1 I transmigrated into a cliché romance novel. The System tasked me with saving the deep, unrequited love interest—the second male lead. The original text described him as: Handsome features, elegant temperament, every gesture exuding the sexiness and romance of a mature man. I stared at the boy in front of me with bleached yellow hair and a thick iron chain around his neck, sniffing. Did I get the wrong guy…? While I hesitated, the boy finally lost patience. “Whose kid are you? Why are you blocking my way?” I shivered, startled. I’d been here a week and barely eaten a full meal. This was the slums. No one was rich. Being a little girl, even kind souls would only spare half a steamed bun. I had been hungry for so long. The more I thought about it, the more aggrieved I felt. I couldn’t help pouting and bursting into tears. “Wahhh!” Shawn froze instantly. “Hey, I didn’t scold you! Don’t blame me for crying.” Seeing the situation turn south, Shawn tried to slip away. I wiped my snot and tears, chasing after him with my short legs. Shawn went left; I went left. Shawn stopped, pretending to admire the peeling paint on a wall. I stood by his leg, looking up at him pitifully. Shawn squatted down, swallowing his anger, the iron chain clanking. He put on a fierce face. “Spit it out. What do you want?” I rubbed my little belly and whispered that I was hungry. Shawn dug in his pockets for a long time. Finally, gritting his teeth, he spent a fortune buying me a ham sausage. I wolfed it down, then looked at him pitifully again. “You ate! Why are you still following me? I’m warning you, follow me again and I’ll beat you up!” Shawn shook his fist and walked away without looking back this time. Seeing he was really leaving, in desperation, I opened my mouth and yelled, “Daddy!” Shawn stumbled. Seizing the chance, I trotted to catch up. “Daddy, don’t leave me.” Shawn walked faster. I had to run. “Daddy! I eat very little! Don’t throw me away!” Passersby started whispering and pointing at Shawn. Shawn’s face turned green. “I’m not! I’m really not her dad!” Frustrated, Shawn pointed at his own nose and yelled: “I’m only eighteen!” Great. Now the suspicious looks turned into disdain. 2 Shawn dragged me away. He probably wouldn’t come back to this area for a while. I gripped his bony hand tightly, not daring to let go. Finding Shawn hadn’t been easy. The System only showed me his photo when assigning the mission to change his fate. But something went wrong during the transfer. I arrived as my three-year-old self. Even my mind was affected by my physical age. I had to dodge human traffickers while searching for Shawn door-to-door. I found him, but he wasn’t the man described in the book. Now, I was clueless about this world. After so much fear, I wouldn’t let go even if I died. “Easy on the grip. Where does a kid get such strength?” Shawn wiggled his fingers. I realized I was squeezing his hand so hard his fingers turned white. I lowered my head in shame, thought for a moment, and hugged his thigh instead. “Hey, how am I supposed to walk like this?” Shawn seemed to lose his temper with me. He looked weary, sighed, and scooped me up into his arms. Muttering under his breath. “Guess you’re stuck to me now.” I stared at his suddenly close, handsome face. My nose stung, and I wanted to cry again. Two lines of tears rolled down. On my dirty face, two comical tear tracks appeared instantly. Shawn frowned and awkwardly wiped them with his finger. “Stop crying. I brought you home. If you really have nowhere to go, stay at my place for now.” My eyes widened in surprise, tears stopping instantly. Shawn took me to his small courtyard. The rusty iron gate creaked. Inside, piles of junk scavenged from trash heaps lined the path. Broken TV screens, shattered phones, discarded appliances. Inside the house was a large desk. Covered with parts and blueprints I didn’t understand. The book said Shawn would encounter a fateful turning point at twenty. By twenty-three, he would be a tech mogul worth millions. Because he knew poverty, he extended a hand to the future heroine. He funded her education, guiding her growth personally. But the heroine only cared about romance, not tedious learning. She used Shawn’s money for dance lessons, piano classes, and even breast augmentation, just to catch the hero’s eye. Even when rejected brutally, she persisted. Shawn tried to guide her, but she got angry. “Love is selfish. Even if you do everything for me, I won’t love you.” After officially getting together with the hero, she told him about Shawn as a joke. The hero, jealous, bribed Shawn’s people, bankrupting him and driving him out of Beijing. I watched Shawn tidying the room. Thinking, such a good Shawn. If only he never met the heroine. 3 Shawn finally cleaned his doghouse of a bed. He pulled out one of his faded shirts and stuffed it into my hands. “I’ll fill a bucket. Wash yourself. Let’s be clear: I won’t baby you. If you don’t like it, leave.” I nodded vigorously. “I’m very good. I won’t disturb you. I can eat and sleep by myself.” Shawn chuckled, waved his hand, and sent me to bathe. My three-year-old self was tiny. I’d been in an orphanage as long as I could remember. Other kids bullied me. Starved, sleep-deprived, thin as a bean sprout. So whenever adopters came, they thought I was sickly and chose the chubby kids instead. I scrubbed my little arms hard, washed my face clean, and put on Shawn’s shirt. When I returned to the room, Shawn glanced at me. “Hey, pretty little girl.” He dug two rubber bands out of a drawer. “Come here. Let me do your hair.” I ran over happily. A few minutes later, two crooked pigtails were born. I looked in the mirror. Pouted. So ugly. Shawn coughed, unobtrusively pulling the bands off. “It’s dark. Time to sleep. Uncomfortable to tie them.” I climbed into bed quickly, eyes closed tight. If I’m obedient, he won’t kick me out. Don’t know how long I slept. I frowned, peeking through one eye. In the blurry vision, Shawn was facing the mirror, tying pigtails on himself. Curse-muttering while experimenting, he finally found the trick. I chuckled involuntarily. Shawn threw the rubber bands away like hot potatoes, pretending to draw blueprints. I smiled, drifting back to sweet sleep. 4 Shawn was rarely home. He spent half his time patrolling, dumpster diving for usable parts. The first time I secretly followed him, he didn’t notice. Until he came home and found me gone, panicked. When I followed him in, Shawn’s eyes were red with anxiety. Suppressing his anger, he acted casual. “If you don’t want to stay, leave early. Saves me trouble.” I walked up carefully and took his hand. “Daddy, was I bad?” Shawn shook me off. “Don’t call me Dad! Never mind that, where did you go?” I sniffled. “Followed you. I’m scared alone.” A sourness rose in my heart. I only knew Shawn in this world. I was terrified he’d get annoyed and leave me one day. So I had to follow him everywhere. Shawn froze. He looked down at my bare feet, soles covered in grit and dust. His lips moved, but he said nothing. Silently, he fetched water and made me wash my feet clean. The next day, Shawn waited for me to wake up, then carried me out without a word. He spent a few bucks on slippers for me and hung a plastic bag on me. Whatever useful junk he found went into my bag. Hand in hand, we walked from the west alley to the east. When I got tired, he’d scowl but reluctantly carry me. Lunch was one steamed bun for two. Shawn gave me the bigger half, eating his with water. Watching me eat heartily, he’d mutter about me being a little debt collector. I grinned at him, devouring the bun. Delicious. That day, Shawn had to cross the street to the recycling station. Besides making things, he sold scrap metal there. “Stay here. Don’t go with anyone. If you get lost, don’t expect me to find you. Hear me?” I nodded seriously, sitting obediently on the side. Shawn pinched my cheek and left. I watched his back recede, squatting to watch ants. Minutes later, a shadow fell over me. 5 I looked up. Several older kids from the neighborhood blocked me, hands on hips. Rich kids. Clean clothes, chubby bodies. One boy pointed at me, grinning widely. “You’re the little beggar raised by that hooligan Shawn. I heard he has no future, doesn’t go to school. Play with me, I’ll give you two bucks a time.” I stood up angrily. “He’s not a hooligan!” “He is! I’m talking to you ’cause you’re pretty. Don’t be ungrateful.” I glanced at the recycling station. Shawn wasn’t out yet. Didn’t want trouble. I turned to walk away. But the fat kid wouldn’t let up. He grabbed my pigtail! “Hey, don’t go! We came to play! Why are you so naughty? My mom says naughty girls don’t get married. No one wants you!” The kids found it fun, each pulling my hair. Chanting around me: “Nobody wants you, nobody wants you! Crybaby, puppy pees!” It hurt. Tears fell. Memories of orphanage bullying overlapped with the present. I pouted, crying loudly. “Wahhh!” Suddenly, a furious roar came from afar. “Stop it!” A fast wind blew past! I opened my teary eyes. The chubby kids were pushed aside, landing on their butts. Shawn stood before me like a mountain. I grabbed his shirt, crying louder. The fat kid fell and started wailing too. Soon, several burly adults came out, cursing at Shawn. “Who are you? Touching kids!” Shawn rubbed my messed-up hair, looking at the hostile group, voice cold as ice. “I’m her dad.”

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The day before college applications were due, we were at a party. Julian drew a “Truth” card in Truth or Dare. Someone asked him: “Julian, you legend, which university did you put down?” The boy smirked, glanced at me meaningfully, and answered without hesitation. “USC.” I froze, my mind going blank. Just a few days ago, Julian told me to my face that he was applying to UCLA. And he had said, if we get into the same university, I’ll agree to date you. Meeting his mocking gaze, I finally realized: I had been played. In that moment, it hit me: the things you have to wait for are usually the things that will never come. So, I didn’t change my application either. 1 The moment Julian spoke, the girl next to me nudged me with her elbow. “Serena, if I remember correctly, you put down UCLA, right? Better change it to USC while you still have time, or you’ll lose your chance to pester Julian!” Her teasing voice echoed through the private room. Soon, everyone’s eyes were on me. Followed by malicious, undisguised laughter. “Tsk, she’s really persistent. Three years of high school and she still hasn’t given up?” “Hahaha, what do you know? Julian is probably the best guy Serena will ever meet.” “Right? She’s so plain. If she didn’t cling like a limpet, who would look at her?” I lowered my head, my right hand unconsciously gripping the hem of my dress, wrinkling the fabric. I liked Julian. Everyone knew it. But I never thought of it as “pestering.” Before today, I thought he had feelings for me too. Julian chose to sit next to me. He tirelessly explained math problems to me. When everyone made fun of my braids for being “country,” he stood up for me. Facing my red-rimmed eyes, the boy ruffled my hair, smiling. “Don’t listen to them. You’re cute.” Later, when Julian sensed my feelings, he asked jokingly, “Serena, do you like me?” My cheeks burned. I looked away, too scared to meet his eyes. I was shy and afraid of bothering him, so I instinctively wanted to deny it. But Julian spoke first. Sunlight hit his profile, casting a shadow over his eyes as he smiled brightly. He said: “If you can get into the same university as me, let’s be together.” My heart pounded. Before I knew it, I nodded slightly and whispered, “…Okay.” Maybe I was too nervous then to notice the teasing look in his eyes. So, was it all just a game to him? My fingers curled. Even without a mirror, I knew I looked pale. But I had to know. I summoned my courage, looking past the crowd of onlookers, straight at Julian. I stared into his eyes, palms sweating, and asked seriously: “Do you think that way too?” The boy sipped his drink calmly, a half-smile on his face. The room went dead silent. Everyone was waiting for his answer. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he laced his fingers, rested them against his lips, and smiled. His tone was definitive. “Serena, you’re just too ordinary.” It was an admission. Everything before was just him toying with me. My nose stung, my vision blurred, and a tear fell. The noisy chatter exploded in my ears again. “LOL, did Serena really think Julian would like her?” “Exactly, asking that is just humiliating herself.” “Julian is just polite and nice to everyone. Helping her a few times made her think she was special?” “I heard he was nice to her just to make Chloe jealous.” “Makes sense. They’re childhood sweethearts—top student and prom queen. Where does Serena fit in?” 2 The mockery stabbed like knives. I gritted my teeth, grabbed a glass from the table, and smashed it on the floor. Crash! The harsh sound shut everyone up. I screamed, abandoning all decorum: “All you do is gossip like old village aunties! Did your parents never teach you manners?” “Forget it, I get it. Not everyone has parents. But if you need lessons, come find me. I’d be happy to be your mommy for a day!” Leaving them stunned, I ran out without hesitation. It hurt. Really hurt. But I couldn’t out-shout a dozen people alone. I ran to the bathroom and let the tears flow. After crying for a few minutes, I fixed my face and prepared to leave. That’s when I realized I left my bag in the room. I hesitated at the door. Just then, I heard a clear voice. Chloe sneered, “Serena didn’t leave because she was mad. She probably rushed home to change her college application.” “She’s been simping for Julian for three years. She won’t give up that easily. She’s definitely following him to USC.” Then, as if remembering something, she asked: “Julian, you didn’t actually apply to USC, did you?” Julian swirled his drink, watching the liquid move. He seemed in a good mood. He smiled. “Nope. Not USC.” Chloe’s smile widened, eyes shining. “Julian, you’re the best.” “I can’t believe you actually listened to my joke about tricking Serena to get her off your back.” “But my scores are only good enough for a state school here. Will you stay here with me?” I thought I was done being sad. But hearing this, my eyes burned again. So UCLA, USC… it was all a smokescreen to keep me away. Why guard against me like that? It’s not like I can’t live without him. I was about to leave when I heard a firm voice. Julian rejected her. “No.” “I applied to Stanford. Five minutes before the deadline tomorrow night, I’ll call Serena.” “She’ll be crying tears of joy, scrambling to change her application. After all, being with me isn’t supposed to be easy.” Chloe’s smile froze. Her voice cracked. “Julian, what did you say?!” I didn’t listen to the rest. I didn’t want the bag anymore. It was a cheap $30 bag I used for three years anyway. I felt complicated. Maybe Julian didn’t intend to break his promise. But how did he know I would definitely change my application? I wanted to go to UCLA. It was never just for him. Back home, while packing, I found an old tin box. Inside was a crudely made red string bracelet, cushioned by cotton balls. Sophomore year psychology class. The teacher told us to make them for our best friend. Julian gave his to me. I gave mine to him. I cherished it like a “token of love.” And Julian wore the one I made all the time. Even at the party just now, he was wearing it. Thinking about this, my feelings were a mess. I couldn’t read him. Julian’s affection was like a cloud—visible but intangible, drifting close then far, impossible to grasp. 3 I pressed my hand over my heart. Finally, I put the bracelet back in the tin and placed it in a visible spot. Just as I finished, Julian called. His tone wasn’t great. He sounded annoyed. He started with an interrogation: “Serena, why did you leave without saying anything?” I frowned. “What else was I supposed to do?” “Stay there and let them roast me?” He paused, then replied nonchalantly: “Were they wrong? Three years of high school. You brought me breakfast, brought me water at games. Every birthday, you saved up for months just to buy me a decent gift.” “Serena, admit it. You’re crazy about me.” He was smiling when he said the last part. I could hear the smugness. So, he thinks he has me wrapped around his finger? Suddenly… I felt bored. It all felt so pointless. Without thinking, I said something irreversible. “Julian, starting now, I don’t like you anymore.” Silence. His breathing got heavier. The background noise seemed to vanish. After a dozen seconds, Julian found his voice. He scoffed, sounding certain. “Mad? Because of tonight?” “It was just a joke. Since I told you I applied to USC, just change your application. Like I said, same school, we date.” My stomach churned. I refused firmly. “No need.” Probably because he’d never been rejected by me, Julian lost patience. He snapped. “Serena!” I closed my eyes, exhausted. “Yeah? Anything else?” Beep. Beep. Beep. He hung up. I sighed. I forgot to tell him I was returning the bracelet. Whatever. Not worth much. The trash can works too. The next day, I spent all day making a college packing list. I didn’t notice I missed the deadline to change applications. I realized it when I heard Julian yelling my name downstairs. He had called me dozens of times. My phone was on silent. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked. He was leaning against a tree, panting. Seeing me, he immediately demanded: “Serena, why didn’t you pick up?!” Suddenly, I remembered what I overheard: “Five minutes before the deadline… I’ll call Serena… She’ll be crying tears of joy, scrambling to change her application.” My attitude wasn’t great. I answered coldly. “Didn’t see it.” Julian was anxious and angry. “Do you know what you missed?” “I was going to tell you I applied to Stanford! But the deadline passed. You missed your chance.” But before I could reply, his expression changed. He looked smug. “Serena, I know. You definitely changed it to USC last night.” “Afraid you’d cry if we weren’t at the same school, I reluctantly changed mine to USC too. You should be grateful.” 4 He didn’t know. I hadn’t opened the application portal since last night. My target school never changed. When Julian looked at me again, he met my calm, indifferent gaze. He frowned deeply. “Still mad?” “Serena, I’ve done this much for you. What more do you want?” “I agreed to date you out of pity. Don’t push your luck!” I rubbed my temples. “Then let’s not date.” Julian froze for half a second. He laughed in anger. “Fine.” He turned and walked away. I called his name a few times. He pretended not to hear, walking faster, never looking back. Failed to return the bracelet again. Sigh. Walking home, I debated telling him my actual choice. Then I thought, why bother? It would just cause unnecessary trouble. That night, the class monitor called me. Fast, commanding tone: “Serena, Julian is drunk at the bar. Come pick him up.” I pursed my lips. “No time.” The monitor sounded exasperated. “You liked him for years. Now that you have a chance, why are you throwing a tantrum?” “To be honest, if Julian didn’t pity you, you wouldn’t stand a chance with him.” My voice was soft: “I don’t like him anymore.” Silence. Then a crash on the other end, and the call ended. Soon after, I saw a post on Moments (social media timeline). Posted by Chloe. Background: a hotel room. On a white bed, Julian, eyes closed, face flushed, was holding a woman’s head, kissing her deeply. Caption: [True lovers finally together?] seeing this now, I didn’t feel much pain. But my classmates thought otherwise. The comments were a flood of mockery directed at me. “Hahaha, Serena must be exploding right now.” “OMG, my ship sailed!” “The simp ends up with nothing. Serena is probably crying under her covers.” “Chloe and Julian are childhood sweethearts. Some people just had to interfere. Deserved!” “Right? Trying to chase Julian without looking in a mirror first.” My chest felt tight. I guess it still hurt a little. After all, the feelings were real. The effort was real. I couldn’t sleep that night. I sat on the window ledge, curled into a ball. Watching the traffic thin out, watching the sky turn from ink black to fish-belly white. I thought about a lot. Julian fighting off bullies for me. Julian patiently explaining calculus. Julian carrying me to the hospital when I had a fever. Memories were messy. Finally, they turned into a long sigh. Julian. I hope you understand one day. A sincere heart shouldn’t be trampled on. After that, I cut contact with Julian. He unilaterally blocked and deleted me on everything to declare a Cold War. I didn’t panic like before, racking my brain to fix things. Instead, I breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Avoiding entanglement was easier this way.

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It was a suffocating, hundred-and-twenty-degree heatwave, and my roommate, Jenna Lynn, hadn’t managed to snag a bus ticket home. She’d practically begged to crash at my place to escape the brutal heat. In my last life, I’d felt sorry for Jenna Lynn, thinking of her as a cash-strapped student with nowhere to go, and I’d let her in. I opened the door, and that was my fatal mistake. She wasn’t alone. She’d brought her entire family with her, baggage and all. They ate my food, wore my clothes, used my everything, and then, as their final, sickening act of greed, they dragged me deep into the backcountry to be a forced bride for her older, unmarried brother. Refusing to be subjected to such a humiliation, I slammed my head against the wall of a pigpen and ended my own life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day my roommate came knocking. 1 My hand was hovering over the doorknob. One slight turn and the door would swing open. But my body was trembling, a shock of pure terror seizing me, and I snatched my right hand back. Just inches. I was just one small, careless step away from letting Jenna Lynn and her monstrous family back into my life! Knock. Knock. Knock. A soft, pleading voice drifted through the thick wood of the door. “Lila, open up, it’s me, Jenna Lynn.” Last time, I’d seen a poor, pitiful college student—a scholarship kid, no less. After her watery-eyed confession about being stranded, I’d agreed to let her stay for two months, until the fall semester started. I never imagined that decision would cost me my entire future. The moment I’d opened that door, I was surrounded. Jenna Lynn, her parents, her towering brother—a whole family unit pushing their way into my home, staking a hostile claim. Before I could even process what was happening, she swiped my phone, cutting me off. I couldn’t call the police. I couldn’t escape their control. I was trapped under the same roof with them. It all ended with her avaricious family taking me into the mountains and leaving me for dead. I pulled up the live feed for the security camera mounted outside the door. Black. Nothing but an inky void. They must have planned this. They’d already covered the lens with tape. The knocking escalated from a gentle tap-tap-tap to an impatient, heavy drumming. “Lila, are you home? I know this is the address! The address is right, isn’t it?” “Hello? Don’t be scared, it’s just me, your roommate Jenna Lynn. Please, open up, I’m so hot—” I crouched low inside, making no sound. My phone screen flared with an incoming text from her. Jenna Lynn: Lila, I couldn’t get a ticket home, and I literally have nowhere to go. Could I please just crash at your place for a few days? Followed by a small, wounded-looking emoji. I sneered. I didn’t bother to reply. In my previous life, that feigned helplessness, coupled with her quiet, seemingly diligent nature at school, had been enough to melt my heart. She was my roommate. I didn’t want any drama for the next few years of college, and I certainly didn’t want to offend her. But Jenna Lynn wasn’t a girl in need; she was a viper waiting to strike. I ignored her text, pretending my house was empty. Jenna Lynn’s relentless messages quickly piled up in the chat thread. Jenna Lynn: Lila, it’s so hot outside, nearly 120 degrees. Can you at least let me in for a drink of water? I really think I’m going to get heatstroke… Jenna Lynn: Please, please, pretty please~ She attached a cute, cuddly capybara sticker. 2 Jenna Lynn was the poorest of the four of us in the dorm. She was usually silent and seemed meek and earnest. The rest of us felt sympathy for her, constantly sharing snacks, basic necessities, and free meals. We even helped her apply for financial aid and the department scholarship. Jenna Lynn never once offered anything in return. At the time, I didn’t care. It was a simple act of kindness, not a transaction. But now, in hindsight, that tiny detail was a glaring sign of her character. Even if her family was poor, she never brought back so much as a local delicacy or a small souvenir. She simply wanted to mooch off all three of us. And I’d never given Jenna Lynn my home address. I guessed she must have found it through one of my online order receipts or a class registry form. My home is a bit secluded—a sturdy, standalone building. The second floor is my living space, and the ground floor is a small convenience store I run. Because I was a young woman living alone in a remote area, I’d made sure the place was secure. The front door had a specialized smart lock, and the windows were fortified with shatterproof glass. Anticipating the record-breaking heat, I’d ordered three extra air conditioning units and stockpiled a mountain of supplies for the store. But it all ended up being a gift for them. After they forced their way in, Jenna Lynn’s family took a liking to my little shop. And her brother, Jared, was a man desperate for a wife. Ultimately, they settled on me. They wanted me as their daughter-in-law. “She’s a little too skinny, and her hips are small—not good for bearing children. But it’s fine, your mother doesn’t mind!” Jenna Lynn’s mother, Mrs. Bell, had said, looking me up and down. “She barely has any chest. The streamers I watch online all have huge chests and big butts… Tsk. Her face is decent, though. She’ll have to do,” Jared had scoffed, evaluating my body like a piece of livestock. I refused, of course, but they had my phone. They outnumbered me. I couldn’t fight them, couldn’t run. And Jenna Lynn, the timid girl from school, stood right in front of me and suggested: “Weddings are just a waste of money. Why don’t we just let our brother and ‘sister-in-law’ have their wedding night right here? Once the deed is done… she won’t have any choice, right?” A sharp pain shot through my palm. My fingernails were digging deep into my skin as the memory flashed back. We were roommates for two years. I’d gone out of my way to help her, worried she felt disadvantaged. How could my kindness be repaid with such malice? She wasn’t satisfied with the help I gave; she wanted to bleed me dry. 3 Since I wasn’t responding to her texts or answering the door, Jenna Lynn started a phone blitz. The calls kept coming, quickly turning into a cascade of “99+ Missed Calls.” The constant ringing was cutting off my data connection. Irritated, I finally hung up the calls and sent her a single text message. Me: Don’t bother. I’m not home. Seeing a reply, Jenna Lynn finally stopped calling. Jenna Lynn: It’s summer break. How could you not be home? Are you traveling? I’ll wait for you right outside the door (=^^=) I replied, my voice dry in my head: I’m really not home. Go back. Get a hotel if you have to. Outside the door, Jenna Lynn impatiently ran her fingers through her hair, then yelled into the corner of the building. “Stop hiding, come out! My roommate isn’t home!” A rustling sound, and then her family members began to speak. Her Dad, Mr. Bell: “Is this girl stupid? Not staying home in this crazy heat? Where could she have gone?” Mrs. Bell: “She’s probably lying to us. She thinks we’re poor, and she doesn’t want us to come in.” “Pah!” A thick glob of spit hit my door. Her brother, Jared, was big and dark, and his eyes were lasciviously fixed on my front door. “Hey, sis, is your roommate pretty? Does she have a boyfriend?” Jenna Lynn thought for a moment. “No, she doesn’t. But Lila is a city girl. She’s snobby and looks down on us country folk. She probably won’t even look at you.” “But, she’s probably telling the truth about not being home… Lila has no reason to lie to me. She doesn’t know I brought you guys. In the dorm, she always pretended to be nice and took care of me—she’s a total fake. If she were home, she’d be rushing to let me in.” Mrs. Bell kicked my door. “Our son is so handsome! She wouldn’t even give him a chance? It’s a huge blessing for her that he’d even consider her!” Jenna Lynn pursed her lips. “City girls are all like that, arrogant and think too highly of themselves.” Mrs. Bell’s eyes darted around. “Once we get in, I’ll teach her a lesson…” Mr. Bell lit a hand-rolled cigarette, his face a mask of impatience. “Forget the lesson for now. If she’s not home, what are we supposed to do? Die of heatstroke outside?” Jenna Lynn replied, “I’ll beg her again. She loves to act like a good person. Even if she’s out, she’ll definitely rush back to let me in!” Mr. Bell: “She’ll agree with all of us standing here?” Jenna Lynn shrugged. “It’s fine. When she gets back, you guys just hide in the corner. When she opens the door, we all rush in. What’s one girl going to do against four of us?” “Besides, there are four of us and only one of her. Once the door is open… we call the shots.” Mrs. Bell gave a knowing, wicked laugh. “See? It’s useful to have a daughter. The crazy old woman next door told me to throw you in the lake when I had you. Glad I kept you! My clever girl, going to college and finding your brother a wife!” Jenna Lynn’s brother, Jared, pounded his chest. “Don’t worry, when your roommate Lila is mine, I won’t mistreat her.” “And I’ll let you manage this city shop.” Hearing them discuss their twisted fantasy future made me want to vomit. The sheer audacity! That’s exactly what happened last time. I opened the door, they charged in, and I couldn’t stop them. I tried to kick them out, but Jenna Lynn immediately snatched my phone. I couldn’t call anyone. Mrs. Bell declared me her future daughter-in-law. She hated the sight of me. She forced me to do chores and wait on her, my self-appointed “mother-in-law.” If I messed up, she’d whip me with a thin stick. I’d never cooked in my life. The kitchen burned my hands until they were covered in blisters. Mr. Bell, my self-appointed “father-in-law,” made me wash his filthy, sixty-something-year-old feet. “A daughter-in-law is the best! No need to go to a foot spa anymore, heh heh…” Jenna Lynn was the most wicked of them all. She plotted to get me drunk. They locked Jared and me in the master bedroom, planning to consummate the marriage immediately, before I had a chance to escape. No matter how loudly I screamed for help inside the bedroom, the three of them outside remained indifferent. Jenna Lynn’s usually meek face was a mask of sinister triumph. “How does it feel to look down on us country people? Be a good girl now, won’t you?” “You should be grateful to marry my brother. He’s strong, and so many girls are lining up for him. You got lucky.” I cried and screamed, pleading for her to show a shred of conscience. “Jenna Lynn, I was so good to you at school! I helped you get scholarships, brought you food and supplies, introduced you to my friends, and tutored you! I never did anything to hurt you! Why are you doing this?!” Jenna Lynn sneered with disdain. “You think you were helping me? You were just using me as a tool to show off your own kindness! Don’t you think I know? You’re just a fake good person. Deep down, all of you look down on me! You all deserve to die!” “You know what? I hate your smug, high-and-mighty face the most! You think being rich makes you better? It’s just good luck you were born into money! Every time you brought me food, it made me sick! Who do you think you are, treating me like a beggar who can’t feed herself, you bitch!” “I’ll deal with you first, and then the other two roommates won’t be spared either. Heh heh…” I was dumbstruck. The reason for her cruelty was beyond ludicrous. It was the classic “give a man a bowl of rice and you feed him for a day; give him a bag of rice and you create an enemy.” I brought Jenna Lynn food because I saw her, a skinny young girl, eating steamed buns and pickles every single day. I felt pity for what I assumed was a difficult life as a girl from a patriarchal, rural family. I used my allowance to buy her good food, just trying to help, with no expectation of anything in return. … The sound of my phone ringing brought me back to the present. Jenna Lynn was still trying to persuade me, texts coming in relentlessly. Jenna Lynn: Lila, you know my family is poor, and I can’t afford a hotel. Please, you’re the kindest one. Just let me stay for a few days, I’ll go home as soon as I get a ticket, okay? Jenna Lynn: It is so hot out here. If you don’t save me, I’m literally going to die of heatstroke. It’s almost 120 degrees! 4 I thought for a moment, then replied: I’m really not home. I went on a trip to the next state. Even if I rushed back to pick you up, I wouldn’t make it in time. Outside the door, Jenna Lynn was cursing under her breath. “Is she crazy? Spending money on a trip? That’s our family’s money she’s wasting!” Mrs. Bell slapped her thigh. “What a waste! Throwing our money away! She can’t be trusted with money once she’s ours. She’ll bankrupt us!” Though she was clearly furious, Jenna Lynn kept up her pathetic act on the phone. Jenna Lynn: Lila, please. I’ve already spent all my ticket money on a hotel the last few days, and I can’t afford the bus ticket now… I had no choice but to come to you. I replied, deadpan: I can lend you the ticket money. You can take the express bus now. Jenna Lynn was gritting her teeth. “I’m not that kind of person. My mom taught me not to take things from other people. I can’t take your money.” “How about… you just tell me the password to your front door? Just let me in to cool down for a few minutes. Please, be a good person.” I didn’t budge: My ground floor is a store. It’s full of inventory. I can’t risk things going missing. No matter how Jenna Lynn pleaded, my answers were firm: It’s inconvenient. I’m sorry. Outside, Jenna Lynn was so angry she started kicking the door. “That idiot! Risk things going missing? What does she mean? Is she implying I’m a thief?! Who the hell does she think she is!” Mrs. Bell patted her back to calm her down. “Don’t be mad! Just figure out a way to trick her into coming back. I’ll teach that little brat a lesson once we’re inside, how dare she treat her sister-in-law like this!” Jenna Lynn hissed, “Once she’s in my family, let’s see how arrogant she still is! Mom, you have to help me teach her how to behave.” “Of course, honey, I’ll help. But it’s too hot. We need to figure out how to open this door first.” “How? She’s not replying to my texts now.” Mr. Bell offered a devious suggestion: “Why don’t you try the password? Maybe you can guess it?” 5 Behind the door, a jolt of alarm went through me. Sweat instantly beaded on my palms. What if Jenna Lynn actually guessed it? Once that outer door was breached, I’d be completely exposed. The password was simple: my birthday, month, and year. I’d celebrated my birthday in the dorm with my roommates, and Jenna Lynn had been there. I heard Mrs. Bell’s voice: “I heard city girls are all about that ‘special occasion’ nonsense. Try her birthday first.” Beep. Beep. Beep— Someone was entering a code at the lock. I dashed into the kitchen, grabbed a heavy butcher knife, and quietly hid behind the door. It was too late. Whoever came in first, I would strike them down. My hands were slick with sweat, almost too slick to grip the knife. The horrific memories of my last life crashed into my mind. Jenna Lynn’s brother, Jared, was big and strong, ate like a horse, and had incredible stamina. Her parents, though in their sixties, were old-school farm workers and deceptively strong. Last time, I fought back. I couldn’t even overpower Mrs. Bell. If I struck the first person, what would I do about the three others? My panic intensified. The hand gripping the knife shook uncontrollably. Outside, Jenna Lynn finished typing. Beep. Beep. Beep— Access Denied. I collapsed onto the floor, wiping a streak of cold sweat from my forehead. Did Jenna Lynn not remember my birthday? Outside, Jenna Lynn was furiously scratching her head. “That’s wrong! What was the date again? I don’t quite remember.” Mrs. Bell grabbed her ear. “You forgot that? You’re in college, and you can’t remember anything!” Jenna Lynn pouted. “So what if Lila celebrated her birthday in the dorm? It was just her showing off. Who cares about her birthday? I threw away her cake. I hate that kind of showing off!” “She bought that expensive cake just to spite me! Doesn’t she know I can’t afford it, she’s such a jerk!” Jenna Lynn rolled her eyes and kept trying random numbers. “Wrong… Still wrong… What the hell is it?” “She went on a trip and didn’t even send me the password. She has no manners. I’m her roommate. Doesn’t she worry about offending me when school starts? Hmph!” 6 Jenna Lynn suddenly remembered something. She pulled out her phone and made a call. “I’ll ask the other two. They must remember Lila’s birthday.” My heart plummeted. I frantically texted my two other roommates. I told them, Do not tell her anything about me. After a few tense seconds, they hadn’t replied. I heard Jenna Lynn’s call connect outside. “Hello? Alice, do you remember Lila’s birthday?” “Oh, hi. I want to surprise her and get her a gift, but I’m terrible with dates, and I don’t want to mess it up… Do you remember?” “Oh, okay… October 19th? Got it.” Jenna Lynn hung up, a sly smile on her face. “Type it in. 1019.” 7 Beep. Beep. Beep— Access Denied. Jenna Lynn’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How is that possible?! Did Alice lie to me?!” I let out a quiet sigh of relief. My roommate had given the Gregorian calendar birthday. My door code was set to my Lunar calendar birthday. Jenna Lynn immediately called our other roommate, Hannah. But Hannah gave the exact same date as Alice. Jenna Lynn racked her brain, trying different number combinations. “Maybe the password isn’t her birthday?” “No way… I specifically remember Lila saying in the dorm that she has a terrible memory, so she uses her birthday for almost all her passwords.” “What’s wrong with this? How could her front door code not be it?” Before hanging up, Jenna Lynn asked a final question. “Is Lila really traveling to the next state? Do you know when she’s coming back? How long is her trip?” Hannah sounded confused: “Traveling? No, we invited her, and she said no, she wanted to stay home and enjoy the AC. She’s home.” “WHAT?!” Jenna Lynn shrieked. “Are you sure she’s home?” After hanging up, Jenna Lynn was furious. She started kicking and pounding my door. She was screaming as she kicked. “Dad, Mom, Jared! That bitch lied to me! She’s been home the whole time, hiding, but she told me she was traveling!” “Lila! If you’re going to lie, have the guts to open the door! Why are you hiding? If you want to say no, just say it! What’s with the lies?!” Mrs. Bell was outraged. “The little weasel! We’re out here practically frying, and she’s inside enjoying the air conditioning! That’s evil!” Mr. Bell coughed and delivered a hard kick to my door. “If you want to marry into the Bell family, you need to learn manners! This is unacceptable!” Jared frowned deeply. “This new ‘wife’ is too much trouble. Did college make her wild? She needs to drop out and move back to the village. She’ll quiet down in a few days.” “I told you girls shouldn’t be educated.” Hearing their arrogance, my teeth ground in anger. Last time, I had pretended to be compliant, putting on the act of a good, obedient girl. And what did that get me? They dragged me into the depths of the mountains, planning to never let me out. The memory of the torture I suffered in that village made me bite down until my gums bled. To prevent me from escaping, Jenna Lynn had broken my legs, forcing me to crawl. I’d knelt and begged her to let me go. She just threw me into the pigpen and locked me in with the animals. Forced to eat with the pigs. “Hahahaha… Look at you, hahaha…” A cold hatred boiled up. A plan for revenge, ice-cold and precise, began to form in my mind. If I remembered correctly, the power to this entire district was scheduled to be cut off tonight at midnight due to the extreme heat overloading the grid. Power wouldn’t be restored for seven days. My little store was a reinforced, standalone metal building. The windows were custom-made, practically impossible to smash. The moment the power shut down, the specialized electronic lock would fail, locking the door permanently. This place would become a high-temperature prison—a thousand times worse than the 120-degree heat outside! If I could trick them into coming in, and then lock the doors and windows from the outside… This area was remote, and the building was soundproof. Trapped inside, their screams would reach no one. Seven days. They would be cooked alive, steamed in their own greed. Could I really do it?

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The paperwork was signed, the divorce finalized. As I drove my eight-year-old son back to my hometown, I noticed he was acting… strange. He wasn’t yelling at me anymore. He was quiet. He didn’t even touch the chocolate lava cake he usually tore into. I put it down to car sickness. I was too worn out to care much. But then, a string of bizarre mental subtitles flashed across my vision. LOL, she still hasn’t figured out that isn’t her actual kid? Seriously, why would her biological son ditch a billion-dollar inheritance to go back to her small-town life? Wait, is that THE McCarthy family prince? The one whose dad is rumored to own half the City? His father is going to lose his mind when he wakes up! I blinked, watching the text dissipate. Then, slowly, I turned my head to look at the unnaturally docile child beside me. No way. If I’d grabbed the wrong boy, then how did he end up wearing the custom-designed platinum necklace I’d given my son? 1 It was before dawn on the morning I was handed the divorce settlement. Maybe five o’clock. The sky was a deep, bruised blue, and the city skyline was still swallowed by a curtain of heavy morning mist. My bags were packed. But before I walked out of the Whitman mansion for good, I had a compulsion to stop by Wesley’s room—my son, Wesley Whitman. It was still too early for the full staff. The mansion was silent. I slipped inside. Wesy was sound asleep, the air conditioner whispering. The curtains fluttered softly. I moved closer, my heart giving an erratic little jump. I’d almost died giving birth to Wesy, but before he was three months old, my ex-mother-in-law, Penelope Whitman, had whisked him away. She said it was so I could “rest and recover,” but I knew the truth. She was disgusted by my ordinary background and terrified I’d taint the Whitman golden heir. My ex-husband, Graham Whitman, had simply stood by, cold and silent, saying nothing. Our entire marriage had been a transaction, based on a debt: my father had saved the old Mr. Whitman’s life, and a long-forgotten engagement contract was the final payment. That’s how I ended up as Mrs. Whitman, a glorified housekeeper in this gilded cage. For years, I managed the home, tended to Penelope, and Graham was… gentle enough. But beneath that gentle surface was a core of chilling indifference. I’d convinced myself that this was simply my life. Until he brought her home. Scarlett. She was the unattainable angel of his youth, the one he’d always carried a torch for. The woman he cherished, truly and openly, like an irreplaceable treasure. Watching him truly love someone finally killed the last of my foolish hope. I asked for the divorce, and he agreed with unnerving calmness. The truth was, Wesy and I barely knew each other. Our emotional bond had been severed years ago, and our few interactions were always strained, ending in miserable arguments. He definitely wouldn’t want to leave this lifestyle with me. Even knowing that, I couldn’t leave without trying. I gently shook the small figure awake. “Wesy? Wesy?” I whispered, keeping my voice low. The small person bolted upright, his eyes snapping open. When he saw me, his expression, still blurred with sleep, was nothing but confusion. The room was dark. I could only make out the innocent curve of his jaw by the sliver of light from the streetlamp outside. I braced myself for the usual shriek, prepared to clamp a hand over his mouth. But he didn’t make a sound. A tiny, illicit spark of hope lit up in my chest. I leaned down and coaxed him. “Wesy, my hometown isn’t as grand as the City, but we’ll be free. We can go crabbing in the summer and maybe even ski in the winter. They have amazing food—fresh oysters, seaside barbecues, coconut chicken… Will you come to Cape Harbor with Mom, just for a while?” It was selfish, I knew. Graham’s angel was pregnant, ready to take my place. If Wesy stayed, even as the legitimate eldest son, his life would be a subtle, cold hell. A mother’s heart always worries. Yet, I remembered that afternoon, years ago. I’d driven his forgotten tablet to his exclusive private school. The driver had dropped me off, but when I handed it over, Wesy just snatched it, turned his back, and snarled, “Just go home!” I didn’t understand. I asked, “Should Mom pick you up after school?” Students and parents were milling around, glancing our way. Wesy’s face went scarlet. He bit out the words: “I don’t want you here! Grandma said you’re just a cheap, small-town civilian who needs to stay in her garden. Why are you here? To embarrass me? Is that it?” The shock and cold betrayal had left me reeling. He shoved me away, and I stumbled back, watching him run into the school without a backward glance. The memory was a sharp, cold jab. I looked at the boy on the bed, ready to give up. “If you don’t want to, forget I said anything…” I stood up, ready to walk away. But then, a small hand gripped the sleeve of my cardigan. I turned back, surprised. I met a pair of big, dark, moist eyes. The small boy looked at me, slow and deliberate. Then, he nodded. In that instant, I felt a rush of staggering joy. Of course. What child truly doesn’t want their mother? 2 Before we left, I’d prepared a contingency plan. My family, while not the Whitmans, was well-established back home in Cape Harbor. They were comfortable. Money wasn’t an issue. I could hire the best private tutors, better than any elite school. If he didn’t want the elite life, there was a perfectly viable family business waiting. Besides, his identity as Wesley Whitman, the eldest son, was set in stone. My ex-mother-in-law, Penelope, would throw a fit. I expected a battle. But the escape was unbelievably easy. Wesley and I walked out the front door, one after the other, and no one stopped us. I found it strange, but I just chalked it up to sheer, dumb luck. The City was a long way from Cape Harbor, and the cross-country train was the only sane option. It wasn’t until we were seated, the doors sliding shut, that I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. It was early spring, and the station platform had been cold. A friendly woman next to me on the train, seeing the boy, leaned over. “Taking your son home?” I nodded, taking the cup of hot water she offered. I didn’t drink it, just held it in my palms for warmth. Next to me, the boy had been staring out the window, mesmerized. But the cold station wind must have gotten to him; he now sat huddled, shivering slightly. I smiled, a genuine, soft smile, and reached for his icy little hand. “Cold, aren’t you?” At my gentle tone, the small boy lowered his eyelids. He seemed about to snatch his hand away, but his ear tips were flushing a slight pink. He hesitated. I didn’t notice his strange reaction. I just focused on warming his hand. But soon, his hand was warmer than mine. I tried to pull back, but he reversed the grip, holding mine firmly. He kept his lips pressed together, not saying a word. …He was actually quite endearing. My heart softened completely. I let him hold my hand. 3 The train journey would take over ten hours. I was worried he’d freak out and cry to go back, so I’d brought his favorite food: the fancy, decadent chocolate lava cake. Oddly, he refused to touch it. He just ate the instant noodles and bread with me. Perhaps he wasn’t used to this kind of “hardship.” He choked on the dry bread, coughing violently. “Cough, cough, cough—” I quickly patted his back. “Slow down, slow down.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to buy him better food, but these things were easy to carry and filling. Finally swallowing, the small boy looked up, his eyes red from coughing. He grumbled, ready to complain: “What is this lousy—” I braced myself for the usual entitled outburst. But he stopped mid-sentence. He lowered his head, then fiercely took another bite of the plain bread. The friendly woman next to us chuckled. “What a good boy, so quiet and well-behaved.” Me: “…” Not exactly. The old him would have been throwing a tantrum. Maybe… maybe it was car sickness. After we ate, I thought for a moment and took him to the sleeper car. I pulled a thick blanket from my carry-on. “Take a nap.” “Okay,” he mumbled sullenly. But as he lay down, his eyes were fixed on me—a look of cautious anticipation, mixed with a hint of anxiety. I tucked the blanket around him and sat on the edge of the berth. “I’m not going anywhere. Sleep easy.” Only then did he seem to relax, slowly closing his eyes. …The next ten hours were spent in the quiet rhythm of the train. To my complete astonishment, Wesley was incredibly placid, almost silent. When I asked him to eat the bread, he’d wrinkle his nose but force himself to chew it down. At night, he had to cling to the edge of my cardigan and wait for me to finish telling him a story before he’d finally drift off. After a few hours, a new thought dawned on me. It must have been Penelope. My ex-mother-in-law had poisoned his mind, teaching him to hate me. That’s why he was always so hostile before. The second that thought crossed my mind, The Feed flashed across my eyes again. OMG, she still hasn’t figured out that isn’t her kid? Mother of the year: Face-blind. Kid of the year: Totally game. Exactly. Why would her real son pass on the Whitman billions and move to a trailer park with her? Holy crap! She’s got the McCarthy Group’s little prince. That kid’s dad is Marcus McCarthy, The Titan. He’s going to be unhinged! What? I blinked, convinced the long ride had finally driven me insane. I looked again. The words were still there. Reading the content, my pupils dilated with shock. The wrong boy? How was that even possible? Just then, the small boy walked out of the sleeper cabin, wearing a pair of green athletic pants and the platinum necklace. The pendant swayed gently as he moved. Hearing his footsteps, I slowly turned, my gaze starting at his face and landing hard on the necklace. His face… I hadn’t seen it much. I could conceivably mix up two small boys. But— If I had the wrong boy, then how was he wearing the custom-made necklace I’d given my son? 4 I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “What is your name?” The small boy looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine, a flash of pure alarm in his gaze. He pressed his lips together, silent. I asked again. He remained mute. Oh, so we’re playing the silent game, are we? I looked at the necklace, my mind made up. I reached out. “What are you doing!” He finally spoke, his voice clear, but with the high-pitched fury of a startled kitten. I pinched the pendant and flipped it over. Engraved on the back was Wesy. I had designed it myself. I hired the best jeweler. It was one-of-a-kind. I sagged against the wall, utterly relieved. The Feed was clearly glitching. My heart wasn’t that big. I couldn’t have mistaken my own son. I tucked the chain back under his collar and patted his head. “Nothing. Just checking.” He looked at me with suspicion, his tiny brow furrowed. I didn’t explain, just leaned back, closing my eyes, ready for a nap. The moment my eyes shut, The Feed returned. LMAO she actually bought that! So dense. Doesn’t she realize her bratty kid would trade a ‘crappy necklace’ for a game console? The sister above nailed it. I just came from the Whitman gossip threads. Wesley Whitman traded that necklace for the McCarthy little prince’s limited edition gaming console and is currently destroying the mansion playing it. I’m dead. One brat got a new dad, and one prince got a new mom. The City is going ballistic. Marcus McCarthy found his son missing. They say he smashed his office and locked down every exit route. Yikes. This woman has no idea what kind of hot potato she’s snatched. My heart dropped. A sickening lurch. My hands started to shake, uncontrollably. I snapped my eyes open, staring with sudden, intense focus at the child next to me. He flinched, shrinking back, clearly startled by my expression. My voice was a shaky whisper. “Did… did you trade this necklace with Wesley for a game console?” His eyes widened slightly, then darted away. Silence. But that reaction was confirmation enough. My vision went gray. I almost passed out. Finished. I had tangled with a force of nature that would crush me without a second thought.

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Just because I secretly posted a wedding photo on social media and forgot to block my fiancé Julian’s “white moonlight” (first love), he auctioned off his wedding night on his timeline the next day. After the wedding, I found Julian in a private room at the restaurant, haggling with his friends with my phone in hand. “One million for the night, not a penny less.” “Bro, even if Sienna is still a virgin, that price is too steep!” “Steep? That’s my brand-new wife! It’s worth extra! You gotta pay extra!” The group roared with laughter. “But seriously, Julian, if you don’t show up on your wedding night, aren’t you afraid Sienna will get mad?” “She asked for it, showing off in front of Monica. I’m already upset I couldn’t marry the woman I love. Besides, I found… this…” My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor, tears streaming down my face. 1 “Bro, your post auctioning the wedding night experience must have hundreds of likes by now.” Julian smirked, nodding smugly. “Just about.” “Aren’t you afraid Sienna will find out and give you hell?” “Heh, I’ll just say it was a joke. What can she do?” His friends clasped their hands together, flattering him: “You really got it like that, Julian. How else would Sienna chase you? But how did she piss you off enough to auction a wedding night pass?” Julian raised an eyebrow at the praise. “Who told her to flex on Monica? Not marrying Monica is the biggest regret of my life. If I don’t teach her a lesson now, who knows how arrogant she’ll be in front of Monica later.” Julian scrolled through his phone, then smirked. “Found it!” He held up his phone. “Don’t say it’s not worth it. This is a private boudoir photo of Sienna. Look at that chest, look at that ass! Is that body not worth it?” Wolf whistles and cheers erupted from his friends. I wanted to rush in and shut him up, but my body wouldn’t stop shaking. My throat felt like it was blocked by something sharp and painful. My engagement to Julian was arranged when we were kids. Three years ago, the Jiang family faced a cash flow crisis, and Julian suddenly appeared in my world. It was love at first sight, and I pursued him relentlessly. Soon, he became my boyfriend. With him, fish never had bones, shrimp was always peeled, doors were opened for me, and my favorite dishes appeared without me asking… His attentiveness made me the envy of everyone. Seeing my happiness, my parents helped the Jiang family more and more, opening up the semiconductor market and securing huge contracts for them. Our wedding was put on the schedule. Until a month before the wedding, a woman named Monica suddenly appeared, claiming she was Julian’s true love. What did Julian do then? He squatted carefully in front of me, eyes full of anxiety and grievance. “Sienna, don’t listen to Monica’s nonsense. I only love you. Just don’t let her know our moves, it’s too much trouble.” I thought it was all Monica’s one-sided wishful thinking, but now… I posted a wedding photo and forgot to block Monica. That night, she posted a drunk, tearful video. In the video, her eyes were red, tears rolling down her cheeks, a single drop hanging from her nose, looking pitiful. Early that morning, Julian was carried home by his friends, drunk out of his mind. I asked anxiously what happened. A friend glanced at me and dropped a line: “Didn’t get to marry the woman he loves, I guess.” I didn’t understand then. Thinking back, the signs were there. Monica was the woman in Julian’s heart. I was just the necessary choice to help the Jiang family rise again. I walked out of the restaurant in a daze. The festive red everywhere stung my eyes. My parents’ parting words echoed in my ears. I’m sorry. I didn’t make myself happy. I chose a man who doesn’t love me. Because he doesn’t love me, he doesn’t care about my dignity or feelings. He made me a laughingstock and turned my most anticipated wedding night into a huge joke. I walked back to our house alone. Looking at the wedding room I meticulously decorated and the nightgown I carefully chose, I covered my face, tears flowing through my fingers… Until the phone rang. “Sienna, where are you?” I wiped my tears. “I’m at…” Bang! The bedroom door was kicked open. “Bro, sister-in-law is alone in the wedding room!” 2 Seeing a dozen men pouring in, my hand shook, and the phone fell. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “Sister-in-law, don’t be shy…” A man swaggered forward, reeking of alcohol that made me nauseous. Seeing the silk nightgown on the bed, he hooked it with a finger, smirking lewdly. “Julian said, it’s his wedding night, let the boys have some fun…” “I’m telling you! Get out now… there are… cameras in the house!” I forced myself to sound calm. But the leader got even more excited. He sat next to me, looking me up and down. “Acting high and mighty? Your husband is out with another woman on his wedding night.” “Exactly… took photos with half a tit out, now pretending to be pure?” “Pure? Would a pure woman let her husband auction the wedding night? I bet she’s a slut at heart…” “It’s not like that!” Tears fell like broken beads. My best friend took those private photos; I only sent them to Julian. The man lost interest in teasing. Just as he was about to make a move, laughter came from the door. “Oh my, how could I miss Julian’s big day?” It was Monica. She walked in, saw me surrounded, and raised an eyebrow. I immediately spotted a hickey on her collarbone. Meeting her eyes, the triumphant look made me think the worst… “Sorry, Sienna, I’m late. My puppy at home is too clingy.” She brushed her hair back, revealing… Julian’s wedding ring on her finger? Monica produced two glasses of wine from somewhere, handing one to me. “I missed your ceremony today, let this drink be my apology.” The men laughed. “Julian’s losing it, letting Monica come here to stake her claim?” “What do you know? The Jiang family is going public soon. What use is the Shi family then? Kicked to the curb!” I shrank back. Julian holding that drink kept flashing in my mind. God knows if Monica spiked this. “Take it away! I won’t drink it!” I raised my voice, drawing more laughter. “Sienna, are you disrespecting me?” Monica grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards her. She whispered in my ear. “Sorry, Julian’s wedding night happened early. As for yours… afraid I drugged you? Sienna, the drug was already in the cross-cupped wine you drank with Julian.” Boom… My mind exploded. The scene at the wedding replayed. “Sienna, let’s drink the cross-cupped wine.” Julian’s affectionate eyes had mesmerized me. I suppressed my blush and drank it all. So he drugged me then? “Sienna?” A familiar voice. Julian walked in with a gentle smile. Today he surprisingly buttoned his shirt all the way up, but faint hickeys revealed what he just did. I bit my lip, digging my nails into my palm until it hurt. Julian sat next to me, pulling my hand down. “What are you doing? These are all my friends. Don’t you trust us?” Suddenly, my vision blurred. Waves of heat rose from my lower abdomen, spreading through my body. “Whoa… Julian, the drug kicked in?” 3 “Julian, is this okay?” a man asked cautiously. Julian smirked. “Of course! The Shi family is in trouble lately; they won’t recover anytime soon. Be bold, I’ll back you up…” I used my last bit of reason to grab Julian’s arm, tears falling uncontrollably. “Julian, tell me, why?” Why treat me like this? I gave you my whole heart, why? Julian’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed my chin. “Sienna, has your family done few despicable things? This is just the start; you’ll suffer more later!” He flung his hand, and I collapsed onto the bed, weak. Julian didn’t look back, walking out with his arm around Monica. Monica looked back at me, eyes full of triumph. “Help… help…” I tried to hug myself, but my arms were limp. Soon, my body was exposed to the air. I wanted to run, but someone grabbed my ankle and pulled… I was dragged to the edge of the bed, hands reaching for me. I bit my tongue hard until the taste of iron filled my mouth, gaining a bit of strength. My mom used to put scissors under my pillow to ward off evil. Only that could save me. The drug made me pant heavily, waves of pleasure causing hallucinations. I bit down again, blood trickling from my mouth. The leader grabbed my chin and slapped me hard. “Bitch, playing chaste?” My hand finally touched the cold steel under the pillow. “Stay back!” I pulled out the scissors, waving them wildly. “Oh, got tools? What, Sienna, you like S&M? We can play along.” The men weren’t scared; some even laughed. I used all my strength to shrink into the corner, hugging myself. I raised the scissors and stabbed my own stomach. The noise stopped instantly. Before they could react, I stabbed again. Pain clashed with the drug, sobering me up. “Want me dead? I’ll grant your wish!” Blood soaked the red sheets. My strength faded until I passed out from blood loss. 4 The smell of disinfectant made me frown. Opening my eyes, seeing familiar figures, my nose stung and I cried. “Sienna, let’s move to another city,” my mom said, eyes swollen, looking at me cautiously. My dad stood by with a stern face, but the glistening tears betrayed him. He gritted his teeth. “That bastard! How dare he!” Memories of last night flooded back, nausea rising in my throat. But seeing my parents’ worried faces, I pretended nothing happened. “Sure! I wanted to experience a new place anyway. When do we leave?” “Sienna…” The door opened. When Julian walked in, veins popped on my dad’s forehead. He slapped Julian hard, cursing through gritted teeth, “Animal! We were blind to give our daughter to you!” Julian pressed his tongue against his cheek, face darkening. “I’m an animal? Was your family not animals when you ruined the Jiang family then pretended to help us rise to get free shares?” “You… you… who told you the Shi family had anything to do with your troubles?” Julian sneered, glancing around. “Stop pretending! By the way, Monica is pregnant. It’s a boy. He’ll inherit everything!” “Bastard! Bastard! You did that to Sienna, and now you say you have a child?” My mom trembled, biting her lip. On the bed, a slight movement pulled my wound, causing sharp pain. Julian’s words replayed in my head, and I suddenly understood… “Julian, you planned all this, didn’t you?” Julian glanced at me. “Smart, Sienna.” Monica is illegitimate. With our engagement first, her pregnancy would be improper. But if I became something lower than her, she could give birth openly, taking revenge on me and elevating her status. I looked at the man I loved for three years and felt nothing but ridicule. My dad recovered a bit, suddenly grabbing a flower pot and swinging at Julian. Julian frowned, caught my dad’s arm, and squeezed slightly. Dad cried out in pain. “Julian!” I tried to get up but tore my wound, grimacing in pain. “Sienna! Do you agree?” Julian looked impatient, squeezing harder. Dad just had surgery a few months ago. “Okay! Okay! I agree!” Julian let go satisfied, dusting off his clothes. “That’s more like it. The Shi family probably has no liquid cash left, right? No worries, put it on my tab, hahaha…” My parents hugged me, the three of us crying together. I don’t know what strings Dad pulled, but everything was settled by the third day. Half a month later, when Julian finally remembered me after being with Monica, he opened the door to find an empty bed. “Doctor! Doctor! Where’s the patient?” “They were discharged long ago!”

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Ten minutes before the International Swimming Championship finals, my childhood sweetheart destroyed the entire team’s gear. She slashed every swimsuit, snapped every pair of goggles. Why? Because her “male bestie” had just tested positive for doping and was disqualified. If we lost this race, it would be a national disgrace. In my past life, to save her from the committee’s wrath, I called in every favor my wealthy family had to air-freight new gear at the last second. I even forced myself to swim in her bestie’s spot for the singles race just to buy time. We won. She accepted the awards as the “resilient captain.” Her bestie, Skyler, eventually moved to the provincial team, got caught doping again, and was banned for life. Distraught, he ran into traffic and was crushed by a truck. She blamed me. Two months later, right before the World Cup, she injected a lethal dose of stimulants directly into my veins. “If you hadn’t forced Skyler to drink that stuff back then, he wouldn’t have been banned. He wouldn’t have died!” she screamed, her mask of calm shattering. “You stole his trophies and caused his death. You’re the one who deserves to die!” My heart exploded in my chest. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the locker room. Ten minutes before the finals. This time, I’m not saving anyone. I want to see how they survive without me as their life raft. 1 I woke up to the sound of shouting. Opening my eyes, I saw our team’s hothead, Mike, poking Skyler hard in the chest. “Skyler, you’re the one who got disqualified! But now Serena destroyed everyone’s gear because of you! None of us can race!” “The prize money is gone! Our careers are toast! How are you going to pay for this?!” Skyler was backed against a locker, neck stiff, denying everything. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t dope! It’s a testing error!” Mike was furious. “You failed the appeal and two re-tests! You still dare call it an error?” He raised a fist, ready to swing, but Serena rushed in and blocked him. Skyler, who had been acting tough a second ago, immediately turned red-eyed and weepy the moment he saw her. The teammates were seething. “Serena, if you guys want to quit, just leave! We want to win for our country!” “This is the International Championship! How are we supposed to swim naked?” Serena shielded Skyler like a mother hen. She lowered her voice to comfort him, then turned to the team with a self-righteous glare. “We are a team. Skyler was framed. You should be helping him appeal, not worrying about your own races.” Her twisted logic stunned everyone. But since she was the team captain, they all turned to look at me—the vice-captain. “Lucas, we’re on in ten minutes. What do we do? We never should have let Skyler join. Since he got here, everything’s gone to hell!” Serena cut him off sharply. “The bad luck is because you didn’t train hard enough, don’t blame Skyler.” “Besides, the coach approved his entry. If you have a problem, take it up with the coach.” The teammate muttered a curse, shooting a resentful look at me. “It’s all because of Lucas. Bringing these two disasters into the team.” Great. Once again, I’m guilty by association. My family, the Sterlings, are wealthy. The Vanderbilt family—Serena’s family—approached my parents when we were kids, saying Serena wanted to swim too. We were engaged since childhood. My parents were happy to help. So, my family paid double to let my professional coaching team train her. We dragged her all the way to the National Team and made her captain. We were practically inseparable. Both families called each other “in-laws,” waiting for us to retire and marry. Then, Skyler appeared in her circle. For this guy, Serena ordered my coaches to waste their time training him, barely scraping him past the qualifiers to get him on the team. She talked about him constantly. If I showed even a hint of displeasure, she’d snap: “Skyler and I are just friends. Stop being so dirty-minded. If you’re going to be jealous, at least be logical.” In my past life, I believed her. When she destroyed the gear, I tried to save both her reputation and Skyler’s career. My reward was a needle in my arm and a stopped heart. This time? I’m done. The childhood bond is over. I looked down and sent a text message, instructing my family to contact a swimming equipment supplier. Then, I spoke calmly. “You’re right. After this competition, I will formally request a re-evaluation from the coaches. Anyone who doesn’t meet the standards gets kicked out.” Serena looked at me in shock. Skyler panicked. They knew. Without my protection, Skyler wouldn’t last five minutes in a real assessment. Someone slammed the table. “Forget the assessment! The race is starting! No suits, no goggles, we don’t even have caps! We’re going to lose by default.” “The live broadcast is on. The whole world is going to see us forfeit.” “It’s not just embarrassing; it’s a national humiliation. We’ll be nailed to the pillar of shame forever.” Serena’s pupils contracted. She bit her lip nervously. Skyler tugged her sleeve. “Serena, what do I do? My whole family is watching. If they find out I was disqualified, they’ll kill me.” Serena turned back to comfort him. “Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll handle it.” She stepped forward, putting on her captain’s face. “There’s a rule. If the whole team signs a joint petition, a disqualified athlete can be reinstated.” “I can fix the gear situation, but you all have to sign the petition to get Skyler back in.” Skyler’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude. A teammate asked, skeptically, “Easy to say. The gear is shredded. We’re in a foreign country. How do you fix that in ten minutes?” Serena lifted her chin, pointing confidently at me. “Lucas’s uncle owns a sports equipment company in this city. He can have professional gear delivered immediately!” 2 I sneered internally. Just like the last life. She volunteered my resources to clean up her mess. What she didn’t know was that my uncle had pivoted his business to tech last year. He didn’t have swimming gear anymore. Last time, when I explained this, she screamed at me: “Lucas, I know you hate Skyler, but is this really the time for games?” “The race is starting! Can’t you be the bigger man? Don’t put your jealousy above national honor!” And Skyler had chimed in, “Yeah Lucas, beat me up later if you want, but help the team first.” Back then, I was too panicked to see they were gaslighting me. But I’m not stupid anymore. “My uncle’s company pivoted last year. They don’t do sports gear anymore.” The locker room erupted in despair. “It’s over. We’re dead.” Serena frowned, shouting at me, “Lucas! This is the International Championship, stop joking!” Skyler added, “Lucas, bro, even if you hate me, think about the others.” The team looked at me, eyes filled with blame. Seeing them try to shift the pot to me again, I pulled out my phone, opened a news article about my uncle’s business pivot, and showed it to them. “I am thinking about the team. That’s why I’m calm. But I’m not the one who tested positive for drugs, and I’m not the one who shredded the suits. Why are you blaming me?” “I trained day and night since I was a kid to bring glory to my country. Who knew I’d run into sabotage from within?” Serena looked away, guilty. Knock, knock. Staff shouted from outside: “Ten minutes!” On the TV monitor, the crowd was roaring. Banners with our names were waving in the stands. Usually, this would pump us up. Now, teammates were cursing. “We have to go out there naked at this rate.” “Just my luck to be on a team with you lunatics.” “One dopes, the other destroys our gear for a man. If you want to date, go do it outside! Why ruin our careers?!” A fight broke out. Serena shielded Skyler, screaming, “Stop! Even if we miss this, there are other ways to go pro!” “Lucas! Your family is rich. Make your dad start a private swim club and sign everyone!” I blinked. “We’re talking about the race. What does a private club have to do with anything?” Serena held up five fingers. “If you all sign the petition for Skyler and tell the committee the gear was an ‘accident’… I’ll guarantee you a salary of $500,000 a year.” The number stunned everyone. “$500k? Lucas, is that true? Your dad would do that?” I frowned. She was trying to drag the Sterling family down with her. A national team failing internationally, then immediately getting signed by my family for huge money? It would look like a massive conspiracy. “Serena, who are you to make decisions for the Sterling family?” Serena smirked. “We’re engaged. You’re the only son. Your family’s money is basically mine, isn’t it?” 3 So that was her plan. Eating the inheritance before I’m even dead. I laughed, glancing at a shocked Skyler. “Oh? You’re announcing our engagement publicly now? Didn’t you say you wanted to keep it secret so your dear Skyler wouldn’t be sad?” Serena’s face darkened. “Skyler and I are just friends. Your mind is dirty.” Before Skyler could speak, a teammate snapped. “Who cares! Lucas, just tell us, can you guarantee the contracts?” “If you can’t, Serena and Skyler are paying for this with their lives!” Serena shouted, “I guarantee it!” The team looked at me. I threw up my hands. “I didn’t say it. I can’t guarantee anything.” “You…” Serena started. Suddenly, the Coach burst in. “Why aren’t you warming up?! Five minutes! Why aren’t you changed?!” A teammate pointed at the pile of shredded fabric in the corner and quickly explained. The Coach’s face turned purple. “Are you insane?! This is national honor! This is everyone’s career!” “My career is ruined because of you two psychos!” Skyler cried, “Coach, I didn’t dope! It’s a mistake!” Serena stood tall. “Skyler was framed. I did this to force you to take it seriously!” The Coach ignored her, frantically making calls. But with minutes left, in a foreign country, it was impossible. He pulled his hair out, screaming, “It’s over! My career is over!” The despair in the room was palpable. “My parents are watching. If I walk out without a suit, they’ll disown me.” “This is a major violation. The committee might ban us for four years.” “Four years…” Silence. An athlete’s prime is short. Four years is a death sentence. A girl started sobbing. A male teammate clenched his fist. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me!” He punched Serena in the face. Chaos erupted. Serena screamed, “My dad can sign you too!” Everyone stopped. She pulled out her phone, muttering, “The Sterlings have money, the Vanderbilts have money too! I’ll make my dad start a team. $500k each, just don’t blame me!” “Dad! Start a swim team! Sign my teammates! Five hundred thousand salary each!” On speaker, her dad’s voice roared: “You useless idiot! Did you offend the Sterlings? They just cancelled every contract with our company! I can’t even pay our debts, where the hell am I getting money for you to waste?!” 4 The call ended. Serena gasped. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Lucas! You did this!” I shrugged calmly. “I just told my dad that you only wanted to marry me to eat my inheritance. That you were a gold digger.” “Maybe… my dad felt your motives were impure and cut ties.” Serena’s face flushed red. “Who said I’m a gold digger… You did this on purpose! You want to see our careers destroyed!” I pointed at the security camera on the wall. “Don’t twist the facts. The camera saw who shredded the suits. You and Skyler are the ones destroying careers.” Teammates, faces pale as death, turned on them. “That’s right! You ruined our lives! I’m calling the committee right now.” “No!” Skyler snatched the phone away. “No one calls until my results are overturned!” Suddenly, the TV screen announced the start of the Men’s 400m Freestyle. That was Skyler’s event. His name wasn’t even on the screen. Skyler let out a strangled scream. “It’s over… it’s completely over…” Serena held him up. “There’s still the relay! There’s still a chance!” Gritting her teeth, she faced the team. “Gear or not, we go out there. Even if we lose.” “I promise, if you help Skyler get reinstated and keep your mouths shut, I will give you each $500,000 after the competition.” Someone sneered. “Your dad just said you’re broke. Where’s the money coming from?” “I have my ways.” I raised my voice. “Then write a promissory note. Everyone signs.” “Yeah! Write it down! Or we don’t believe you!” Cornered, Serena nodded. By the time the 400m freestyle ended, Skyler was sobbing at the TV. But everyone else held a handwritten IOU from Serena. “Okay? Now go appeal before the relay starts!” She dragged Skyler toward the door. The others hesitated. “What are you waiting for?” Serena turned back to see me blocking the door. “Lucas, what now?” I smiled and signaled my teammates to step aside. The door opened. Several delivery men walked in carrying two large crates. Inside were brand new, professional-grade swimming kits. The team cheered, rushing to find their sizes. “Where did these come from?” I bent down to grab my kit. “I asked my uncle to pull some strings with other suppliers. Late, but just in time.” Serena’s face lit up with relief. She pulled Skyler over. “Lucas, I knew you wouldn’t abandon us. Since you helped, our families’ partnership should be restored, right?” But the boxes were empty. Everyone had a suit. Except Serena and Skyler. “Where are ours?” I laughed. “So sorry. My uncle could only find this many.” “Coincidentally… we’re exactly two short.”

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“You’re done here.” Reid Harrington, the new Director, was leaning back in his executive chair, not even bothering to lift his gaze from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I stood in the doorway of his corner office, a freshly printed project report still clutched in my hand. “What does that mean?” “The company is restructuring, Owen.” He finally looked up, a flick of bored disdain in his eyes. “Your position has been eliminated.” Three years. I’d poured three years of my life into this company. Three core systems. Four hundred and seventy thousand lines of code. Every single character was mine. “That attitude, Miller, it’s going to follow you wherever you go,” he added, a patronizing after-thought. I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked back to my cube, staring at the screen. The four hundred and seventy thousand lines of code lay dormant in the server. My index finger rested on the Delete key. 1 I didn’t press it. Not because I was afraid. Because it wasn’t time yet. Reid’s voice echoed in my head: “That attitude, Miller, it’s going to follow you wherever you go.” What attitude? I worked past ten every night, was on call every weekend, and hadn’t taken a single sick day in thirty-six months. What kind of attitude was that? “Owen, HR wants to see you.” Tim, a younger developer, peeked his head around the partition. His eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. The news had travelled fast. I stood up and glanced at the few items on my desk. A framed photo of my wife, Sierra. Her smile was sweet, and her baby bump was just starting to show. Five months along. The mortgage is twelve hundred a month. I took a deep, shuddering breath and walked toward the Human Resources office. “Come in, Owen. Have a seat.” Diana Cruz, the HR Manager, was in her mid-forties and had been at the company for eight years. She’d seen every firing, every layoff. She slid a document across the table. The cover read: “Severance Agreement.” “Take a look.” I opened the document. Severance Pay: $56,000. I paused. “Shouldn’t this be N+1? I’ve worked for three years. That should be three months’ salary.” “The company has determined your tenure is two years,” Diana said, adjusting her glasses. “Your first year was classified as a probationary period.” “Probationary? I signed a full-time employment contract.” “It’s written in the fine print as a one-year ‘trial period.’” I remembered the conversation clearly. Wally Stone, the CEO, had clapped me on the shoulder: “Owen, the contract is just a formality. You work hard, and I’ll take care of you.” “So we can only count two years,” Diana said, offering me a pen. “Sign it. Let’s keep this professional and clean.” I stared at the number. $56,000. Three years. How much profit had I generated for them? That custom inventory platform alone saved the company two million in labor costs in the first month. The customer data platform boosted our sales conversion rate by 35%. The financial settlement system shrunk the payment cycle from 45 days to just seven. Conservatively, twenty million dollars in value over three years. They were offering me $56,000. “What about the annual bonus?” Diana’s pen hesitated. “The annual bonus?” “It’s almost the end of the year. My bonus for this year.” “Owen, you’re a terminated employee. The bonus…” “The contract states the bonus is based on performance. You know what my performance was this year.” The smile on Diana’s face stiffened. “That depends on the company’s overall profitability…” “I got eighty thousand last year,” I cut her off. “This year I took on more projects, and the profits were higher.” “The circumstances this year are different.” “How are they different?” Diana didn’t answer. I got it. Since Reid Harrington arrived, he’d attached his name to all my projects. To Wally Stone, he was the hero who “led the team to a major revenue breakthrough.” And I was the “employee with the attitude problem.” “We will issue a proportionate bonus,” Diana said. “Likely… around twenty thousand.” Eighty thousand slashed to twenty thousand. “Diana.” I placed the pen down. “I need more time to think.” “Owen…” “I know the company wants me to sign today,” I stood up. “But I have a right to consider this.” Diana’s face darkened. “The company’s clear instruction is that this must be finalized before the end of the day…” “The workday still has four hours left.” I walked out of the HR office. Behind me, Diana’s voice chased me down the hall: “Owen, you need to think this through! Making a scene won’t help anyone!” I didn’t turn back. Back at my desk, I opened my computer and looked at the code. Three years. I could remember when and why I wrote every single line. In the winter of 2021, my first month on the job, I worked twenty straight days to push out the first version of the inventory system. Wally Stone patted my shoulder and said, “Owen, do good work, and the company will reward you.” In 2022, during the Christmas holidays, everyone else went home. I guarded the server room alone, fixing a system glitch. Sierra brought me Christmas dinner in a container. Wally sent me a $50 gift card and said, “Tough break.” The entire year of 2023, I didn’t take a single full weekend off. Every module of the customer data platform was built during an all-nighter. I lost fifteen pounds that year. Sierra almost left me. Now they were telling me: “You’re done here.” My phone buzzed. A message from Sierra: “Hey hubby, I made your favorite pot roast tonight. Come home early.” I stared at the screen and suddenly laughed. Come home early? Today might be my last time in this office. “Owen.” Reid Harrington had appeared behind me. “Have you signed?” I didn’t turn around. “Still considering.” “What’s there to consider?” His tone was laced with impatience. “The terms the company offered you are more than generous.” “Generous how?” “You worked for three years. The company invested in you for three years. We’re offering fifty-six thousand and a bonus. What more do you want?” I finally spun my chair around and looked at him. Reid was 35, three years older than me, and had parachuted in as the Tech Director three months ago. He was supposedly a fraternity brother of Wally Stone’s brother-in-law—some convoluted connection that bypassed any merit. He didn’t understand the tech. His favorite thing to do was call a meeting. At least three “Technical Review Meetings” a week, where we’d report our work, and he’d nod sagely and say, “Hmm, I think we can optimize that solution.” Optimize what? He couldn’t read a single line of my code. “Reid,” I said. “Do you know what the code I wrote is worth?” He paused, then smirked. “Your code? That’s company property, Miller. It has nothing to do with you.” I smiled back. “You’re right about that.” I turned back to the screen. Reid stood there, apparently waiting for me to say something else. I kept silent. Ten seconds later, he walked away. The office was quiet, punctuated only by the click of keys. I opened the company’s code repository and stared at the folders. Inventory System. Customer Platform. Financial Settlement. And the in-development Supply Chain system, already 70% complete. All mine. Every line of code, my heart and soul. But Reid was right. It was “company property.” I closed the page, picked up my phone, and texted Sierra: “Going to be late tonight. Something came up.” She replied instantly: “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I typed a few words, then deleted them. “Nothing. Just a bit busy.” I put the phone down, leaned back in my chair, and closed my eyes. Three years. What did I actually get out of it? 2 At two o’clock, Diana was back. “Owen, have you decided?” She held the severance agreement, her expression more severe than it had been this morning. “Diana, I have a question for you.” “Go ahead.” “When I started, Wally promised me a 0.5% equity stake in the company. Does that still stand?” Diana’s face flickered. “Equity?” “Yes. A verbal promise at the time.” “Verbal promise…” She gave a dry, nervous laugh. “Owen, you know that a verbal agreement has no legal standing.” “And what about the agreement on paper?” I countered. “I signed a full-time contract, not a probationary one.” “Well…” “Diana, I can file a labor claim.” The air went silent for three seconds. Diana’s composure finally broke. “Owen, what exactly are you implying?” “I’m implying that the company’s offer is unfair, and I need to renegotiate.” “The company has been more than generous!” “Fifty-six thousand, a year of service slashed, and my eighty-thousand-dollar bonus cut to twenty thousand.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “Is that generous?” “You!” “Diana.” I cut her off. “I know you’re just an employee, not the decision-maker. Please relay my demands to Reid and Wally Stone.” “What are your demands?” “First, N+1 severance pay—three months’ salary, $84,000. Second, the annual bonus paid at last year’s standard, $80,000. Third, I’ll drop the equity claim.” Diana’s jaw dropped. “Are you out of your mind?” “Am I out of my mind?” I laughed. “Diana, do you know what I did here for three years?” I opened my laptop and pulled up the project documentation. “The Inventory Management System, launched January 2022, saved two million in labor. The Customer Data Platform, launched March 2023, boosted conversion by 35%, generating fifteen million in direct revenue. The Financial Settlement System, launched August 2023, shortened the payment cycle by 38 days, improving cash flow by thirty million.” I turned and looked at her. “In three years, I’ve generated at least twenty million dollars in value for this company. Do you think my request is unreasonable?” Diana’s face was flushed red. She was speechless. “I’ll wait for their response.” She turned and left. I knew this negotiation wouldn’t be simple. But I needed the time. My phone buzzed. It was an unfamiliar number. “Hello?” “Mr. Miller, this is from the executive search firm. We spoke last month. Do you have a moment to talk?” I paused, then remembered. A headhunter had contacted me a month ago, mentioning a CTO role. I’d brushed it off then, happy at my current job. “I do.” “Our client is moving very quickly on the role we discussed. They wanted to know if you’ve given it any further thought.” “What was the compensation again?” “Forty-two hundred a month, three to six months’ annual bonus, plus stock options.” I was silent for a few seconds. Forty-two hundred. A 50% raise on my current salary. “Mr. Miller?” “I’ll consider it. I’ll call you back this evening.” “Wonderful. I’ll look forward to your call.” I hung up, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling. Maybe this was my out. But before that, I had one more thing to do. At three o’clock, a message popped up in the corner of my screen. It was the company’s tech team chat. Reid Harrington: “@All. Technical Review Meeting tomorrow at 2 PM. We’ll be discussing the Supply Chain system progress. Owen’s section will now be handled by Kevin. Kevin, please prepare to present.” I stared at the message and smiled. Kevin. The new guy, only six months on the job, who mostly shadowed me. He was going to take over my project? He barely understood the database architecture. Below the message, a few people replied with “Got it” emojis. No one tagged me. No one asked what happened. In the office, my colleagues were hunched over their screens. No one looked my way. I understood. The news had been disseminated. I was the “terminated” guy, the one with the “attitude problem,” the one who was “making a scene.” No one wanted to be associated with me. “Owen.” Tim approached my desk, his voice a low whisper. “What is it?” He glanced left and right to ensure no one was listening, then spoke. “I need to tell you something. Please don’t tell anyone I said this.” “Go on.” “Reid… he’s been targeting you for the last three months.” “What do you mean?” “When he first came in, he told Wally Stone you were ‘insubordinate’ and ‘resistant to management.’ Then, in every meeting, he would ask you deliberately difficult questions, and then tell Wally you had ‘technical shortcomings.’” I was stunned. “And,” Tim continued, “he revised your project reports. He deleted your name and replaced it with his own.” “When did this happen?” “Last month. Wally asked him to present the year-end performance, and Reid took your documents and claimed he was the ‘architect’ of the success.” I took a deep breath. Three months. He had been planning this since the day he arrived. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Tim’s eyes shifted. “I… I only found out today. Reid’s assistant told me. She can’t stand him either.” I said nothing. “Owen, just be careful,” Tim whispered. “Reid’s not a nice guy.” I nodded. “I know.” Tim left. I sat at my desk, my mind a storm of thoughts. Three months ago, when Reid parachuted in, I was the one who went up to him and offered my help with any technical issues. He had smiled and said, “Owen, I look forward to working with you.” What was that smile hiding? The code repository page was still open on my screen. I looked at the folders and suddenly remembered something. When I signed the contract, there was a very ambiguous clause regarding code ownership. The gist was: Code developed by the employee during employment is the property of the company. However, if the code involves the employee’s personal intellectual property, a separate agreement is required. What qualified as “personal intellectual property”? The core algorithms I used in those systems? Many of those were concepts I had researched and developed before I even joined the company. I just integrated them into the corporate projects. Strictly speaking, those algorithms weren’t “developed during employment.” I opened the contract and re-read the clause carefully. Sure enough, the wording was vague. If it came down to a legal fight, the company might not win.

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1 In the middle of a crucial video call, my long-silent high school group chat erupted. Someone tagged me repeatedly: “Aria, Lily is getting married today—aren’t you coming?” Messages poured in: Lily Evans, our class beauty, was getting married, and seemingly all our old classmates were there. “Sorry, work is too busy. I can’t make it,” I replied, sparking instant backlash. “Busy? You never post. Your life must be a mess.” “Too embarrassed? Just admit it.” Lily herself wrote: “Remember our bet? I said I’d marry a man far more successful than yours.” “I don’t remember,” I replied truthfully, which only fueled the attacks. “Lily’s husband is a CEO! He arranged over a hundred luxury cars for the wedding!” “Is your husband so bad you’re pretending to forget?” “Can’t even afford a gift? Need a GoFundMe?” Amid the insults, Lily tagged me again, pretending kindness: “I wish you could come, Aria. I’d even ask my husband to get you a cleaning job here.” She then posted a wedding photo with her new husband. I froze. The man in the photo was my own husband, Ethan Harvey. “Fine,” I typed. “I’ll be there to witness your happy moment.” The moment I sent the message, a text from Ethan came through. “Hey, babe. I’m heading back to my hometown today to see my parents. I made you dinner and left it in the fridge, you just have to heat it up.” “I love you forever, honey.” Ethan had married into my family three years ago, and he’d always taken meticulous care of me. Even when he traveled, he made sure everything I needed was prepared. I used to be touched by these thoughtful little details. Now, they just seemed pathetic. I cut the video conference short. Following the wedding location Lily had posted in the group chat, I drove to her hometown. From a distance, I could see a massive red banner strung across the front of her family’s house. “A WARM WELCOME TO MR. ETHAN HARVEY, CEO OF APEX CORPORATION!” Beneath the banner, Lily stood in a stunning, custom-made white gown, anxiously awaiting her groom. She was surrounded by a crowd of our old high school classmates. “Lily, you kept him a secret for so long! We had no idea your fiancé was the CEO of Apex!” “Seriously, Ethan Harvey is a legendary entrepreneur! You’re amazing for landing such a high-value man!” “Lily, you’re about to be a billionaire’s wife! Don’t forget about us when you’re living the high life!” Even our old high school homeroom teacher was there, fawning over her. “Lily, the first time I saw you, I knew you were destined for greatness. That’s why I never criticized you for your poor grades. I knew you were born for wealth; you didn’t need to rely on academics!” Basking in the flattery, Lily’s smile widened, her eyes filled with smug satisfaction. For years, Ethan had been little more than a kept husband. To give him some experience and a title, I had put him in charge of Apex Corporation, the smallest of my subsidiary companies. I never imagined it would become the source of Lily Evans’s bragging rights. The moment they saw me arrive, the fawning classmates’ faces soured. One of Lily’s little minions noticed the car I was driving and strutted over, sneering. “Aria Sterling, you’re so desperate. Did you really rent a Bentley just to save face at Lily’s wedding?” The others chimed in with their own contemptuous remarks. “No wonder she had the guts to show up. She’s just here to front. Renting that for a day must’ve cost you three months’ salary, right?” “Some people will do anything to look important. No matter how rich you pretend to be, you’ll never be richer than Lily’s husband!” “Seriously, is it that hard to admit someone is more successful than you? Was your pride really worth the cost of a rental?” I remained unfazed by their insults. “This is my car.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Lily strode up to me and slapped me hard across the face. “Your car? This is my husband’s car, you bitch!” she shrieked. “I always suspected he was keeping some slut on the side. I should have known it was you!” “You shameless homewrecker! How dare you drive my husband’s car to my wedding to provoke me, his actual wife?” Her accusation made everyone’s eyes go wide. “Lily, this car belongs to your husband? Are you serious?” Lily’s expression was pure arrogance. “Of course, it is.” She pulled out her phone and showed them a series of photos of her and Ethan. There were intimate selfies of them inside the car, and cozy pictures of them sitting on the hood. The interior details and the license plate were crystal clear in the photos. It was identical to the car I was standing next to. A wave of murmurs went through the crowd. “It really is her husband’s car! That means Aria Sterling is the other woman!” Lily’s face was contorted with rage. “No wonder you never post anything online. You’ve been busy being a professional mistress.” The others turned on me, their eyes filled with disgust. “I can’t believe it. Aria always acted so high and mighty, but she’s just a common slut.” “And to think I had a crush on her in high school, the cold, brainy type. I even wrote her a love letter. It makes me sick just thinking about it now.” “It’s always the ones who act so pure and distant. Behind closed doors, they’re probably desperate for it. They see a rich man and just spread their legs.” “And she had the nerve to drive her sugar daddy’s car to his own wife’s wedding! She’s obviously just jealous that Lily is marrying well and came here to ruin everything!” Even our old teacher looked at me with scorn. “Aria Sterling, if you’re ever out in public, do not tell anyone you were my student. I never taught anyone with such depraved morals.” The accusations and condemnations drew a crowd of onlookers, all pointing and whispering. Some even started recording me with their phones, a few spitting in my direction. I took off my jacket—a piece worth over ten thousand dollars—and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Then I faced Lily directly. “I suggest you ask Ethan Harvey very carefully who the mistress is and who the wife is.” Her response was another sharp slap. “Do I need to ask? Can’t you see this is my wedding day with Ethan?” she screamed, then turned her fury on my car. “I hate homewreckers more than anything in this world. All of you deserve to die!” She pulled a key from her purse and viciously carved a single word into the side of my car. WHORE. I glanced at the ugly scar on the paint. “You’re going to realize very soon just how ironic that word is,” I said, my voice ice-cold. My calmness only enraged her further. “You bitch! You steal my man and then you have the nerve to mock me? The thought of a slut like you driving my husband’s car makes me want to vomit!” She snatched a brick from the side of the road and began smashing it against my car. The windows, the headlights, the hood—she attacked every part of it with savage intensity. “Lily’s the future Mrs. CEO of Apex Corporation! We can’t let her be bullied by a low-life mistress like Aria!” someone in the crowd shouted. That was all the encouragement they needed. They all grabbed whatever they could find—rocks, branches, anything—and joined in, smashing my car with frenzied glee. After breaking the windows, they even climbed inside, slashing the leather seats and destroying the interior. In moments, my pristine luxury car was a mangled wreck. I watched the mob, my eyes cold as steel. “I hope you’re all this enthusiastic when it’s time to pay for the damages.” No one paid me any mind. It was as if I wasn’t even there. Just then, Lily’s minion pried open the trunk. “Hey, look! She’s got a bunch of fancy stuff in here!” Lily walked over and pulled out a framed painting, her lip curled in a sneer. “A woman who sells her body for money is trying to be a sophisticated art collector? How pathetic.” I issued a sharp warning. “Be careful. Those things are worth a lot more than the car. Especially that painting.” The items in my trunk were collectibles I had recently acquired at an auction and hadn’t had a chance to move to storage. My warning only fueled Lily’s fire. “For a piece of art to be owned by a slut like you is a desecration,” she spat. “Trash like you only deserves trash!” With that, she ripped the canvas to shreds right in front of me. She threw the tattered remains on the ground and stomped on them with her heels. Our old teacher peered at the destroyed painting. “Wait… I think that was a genuine Monet. I heard pieces like that start at fifty million dollars at auction!” Lily was unfazed. “So what if it’s fifty million? It’s all my husband’s money anyway! And his money is my money. What’s wrong with me destroying my own property?” I was speechless. Not only was Ethan a penniless man who had married into my family, but his incompetence at Apex had actually caused the company’s value to drop by nearly half. If he wasn’t my husband, I would have fired him ages ago. Yet, to Lily and these old classmates, he was a revered and powerful CEO. With Lily leading the charge, the others eagerly joined in, destroying every last item in my trunk. There’s no point reasoning with a pack of wolves. Since they were lost in their destructive frenzy, I stopped trying to warn them. I quietly pulled out my phone to call the police. Before I could even dial, Lily lunged at me, snatched the phone from my hand, and smashed it on the ground. “Calling the cops? A homewrecker who preys on other women’s husbands has no right!” she sneered. Then her eyes locked onto my neck. “That locket… it looks expensive. I bet my husband bought that for you, too!” In one swift, violent motion, she ripped the necklace from my neck. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. My demeanor instantly changed. “Give that back to me,” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. Seeing my sudden panic, Lily’s smirk widened. “So nervous? This must be worth a pretty penny, huh?” “It’s not valuable,” I said, my voice tight with urgency, “but it’s important to me. Give it back. Now.” I lunged for it. That locket was a protective charm my mother had given her life to get for me. I had been a sickly child, and at four years old, I fell into a coma. The doctors told my parents to prepare for the worst. My mother, unable to accept it, went on a pilgrimage to a great cathedral to pray for me. To show her sincerity, in the scorching forty-degree summer heat, she crawled on her hands and knees from the bottom of the holy mountain to the shrine at its peak. She crawled until her knees were raw and bloody, until her head was bruised and she was nearly unconscious, all to obtain this blessed locket for me. Perhaps heaven was moved by her sacrifice. Miraculously, I woke from my coma. But my mother fell ill from the ordeal and never recovered. Before she died, she placed the locket in my hand and made me promise to always keep it safe. I have treasured it my entire life, never taking it off. It was the last piece of my mother I had left. It was my breaking point. And I would not let anyone destroy it. “The more you want it, the more I want to destroy it!” Lily taunted. Before I could reach her, she threw the locket to the ground with all her might. With a sickening crack, the delicate piece shattered into a dozen fragments, scattering across the pavement. “No!” Seeing the one thing my mother had died for destroyed so carelessly, I felt a pain so sharp it stole the air from my lungs. “You are an animal!” I lost control. I lunged forward and slapped Lily across the face with all my strength. “You fucking bitch, you dare hit me?” she shrieked, clutching her cheek. “Get her! Teach this slut a lesson! Whoever does the best job gets a million dollars!” That was all the incentive the mob needed. They descended on me, kicking and punching. “How dare you hit Lily? She’s the future Mrs. CEO of Apex Corporation! Who the hell do you think you are?” “It was just a stupid necklace! You probably earned it on your back anyway. Just sleep with a few more men, and you can buy another one. What’s the big deal?” “Shameless mistress! First you steal another woman’s husband, and now you attack his wife? You really think you can get away with it?” Even our old teacher snuck in a couple of kicks while I was down. I was beaten to the ground, shaking with rage. “You will all regret this!” I spat through gritted teeth. My threat was met with howls of laughter. “This isn’t high school anymore, Aria! You think being the top student makes you special?” “You’re nothing but trash society left behind! A prostitute threatening us? That’s hilarious!” “A mistress needs to know her place! When you get hit, you stay down!” “You shameless whore! Stealing a classmate’s husband… have you no decency? If I were you, I’d have killed myself by now!” They pinned me to the ground, taunting and humiliating me as the crowd of onlookers continued to spit and jeer. Lily, surrounded by her adoring followers, stepped forward and ground her heel into my face. “Regret? I’ve never regretted a single thing in my life. I can’t wait to see how a pathetic slut like you is going to make me regret anything!” Just as the words left her mouth, a fleet of over a hundred luxury cars screeched to a halt in front of the crowd. The doors opened, and Ethan Harvey, followed by a team of men in sharp suits, stepped out.

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Sylas lost his memory. He looked at me warily and asked who I was. With the pure, malicious intent of destroying his cultivation path, I smiled sweetly and replied, “I’m your wife.” He didn’t believe me, but I knew him like the back of my hand. He liked dark colors, drank strong tea, and practiced his swordplay every morning at 7 AM sharp. After a thousand years as sworn enemies, I knew every mole on his back. He had no choice but to believe me and quickly accepted the role. But… who wrote this “doting husband” script? Why is it that the moment I break character and show a little anger, he flips his robes and kneels?! And uses his tongue to please me in every way… Sylas, where is your backbone?! 1 Sylas and I were sworn enemies. Mortal enemies. How exactly we became enemies is lost to the ages. Cultivating immortality takes a long time, and my memory isn’t what it used to be. I just remember we never got along. Couldn’t stand the sight of each other. I was pure Yin, he was pure Yang. People used to ship us. But we fought so fiercely that eventually, no one dared to utter such death-wish nonsense. Our dojos were both in the East, and our disciples occasionally clashed. A thousand years of friction built up into a big one, so as the grandmasters, we stepped out to fight it out. Under the eager gazes of disciples from both sides, he and I stood in mid-air, sizing each other up for weaknesses. To be fair, Sylas was extremely good-looking. Sword-like eyebrows slanted towards his temples, eyes pure black like a cold pool reflecting stars under thick lashes—deep and chilling. A high nose bridge, thin lips that hinted at unquestionable killing intent when pursed. If he would just smile, he’d be a dashing gentleman like the bright moon and fresh breeze. Unfortunately, his aura was too heavy, radiating an inhumane coldness. In his black Daoist robes, he had the imposing presence of a towering mountain. His stare made my heart race. I didn’t know if I’d win or lose this round. He was a Lightning Heavenly Spiritual Root, cultivating the Ruthless Dao. I was a Chaos Five Spiritual Root, cultivating the Carefree Dao. He had one sword to conquer heaven and earth; I mastered every unorthodox trick in the book. After a long standoff, Sylas swung his sword. I tapped my toes, drifting back like a flowing cloud. Using the “Ripple Steps” taught by the Ripple Fairy, his majestic sword energy didn’t even touch the hem of my clothes. “Move one.” I held up a finger, a formation disk already silently dropped from my sleeve. Instantly, fog rose, hiding killing intent. Sylas sneered. “Xu Fang’s Confusion Formation? Unorthodox tr—” Before he could finish, three blood-red sword energies shot out from the formation—Xu Fang’s improved Three Talents Deadly Formation. He blocked hastily, but his sleeve was still sliced open. Twang! I took out the Hook Moon Pipa, ten fingers flying. Demonic music rose, weeping and complaining. Si Miyuan’s Soul-Breaking Tune echoed in the formation, specifically targeting the clear Dao heart of a sword cultivator. Sylas faltered slightly, fine sweat beading on his forehead. “Move two.” I held up another finger, throwing out seventy-two talismans while his mind was shaken. Boom boom boom! Gongsun Che’s Explosive Sound Talismans covered the sky, blasting the clouds away. Sylas’s face finally changed. His sword danced like a rainbow, yet a talisman still grazed his cheek, leaving a scorch mark. “Well?” I stood with my hands behind my back, a pill pouch from the Pill Sect at my waist, a hidden crossbow from the Weapon Sect in my sleeve, and Void-Breaking Talismans from the Talisman Sect on my boots. “Does Sword Saint Sylas still think these are just unorthodox tricks?” He wiped the blood from his face and suddenly smiled. “Interesting.” His sword stance changed abruptly, manifesting thousands of sword shadows. My heart tightened. I quickly formed a hand seal, barely executing the Puppet Sect’s Golden Cicada Shell Shedding. The substitute puppet I left behind was shredded by sword energy. “Move three is mine.” Sylas’s voice suddenly rang in my ear. I leaned back sharply, a gleam of sword light grazing my nose. I was about to counterattack, but realized the ties of my pill pouch and hidden crossbow had been cut by sword energy at some point. “You…” “Jack of all trades, master of none.” With a light flick of his sword tip, my last talisman shattered in mid-air. “But indeed…” When his long sword pointed at me, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “Disgusting enough.” “You lose,” he said flatly. I tilted my head and smiled. “Sword Saint Sylas might want to look at his feet.” He looked down. Seven Bone-Penetrating Nails hovered in the air, pinning the hem of his robe. Each nail was connected to a nearly invisible Heavenly Silkworm Thread—the Tang Sect’s most insidious Seven Star Soul Lock. “A draw?” I blinked. “Or mutual destruction?” Sylas stared at me for a long time, then suddenly sheathed his sword. As he turned, I distinctly saw his mouth twitch. “Fu Yunqian, your methods are truly…” “Disgusting?” I supplied. “…Interesting.” Watching his figure receding on his sword, I realized my back was soaked in cold sweat. Collecting the scattered debris, my fingers trembled slightly. If his sword had advanced half an inch more, or if I hadn’t set the hidden weapons in time… A breeze blew, scattering the talisman paper and remnant formations. Looking at the sword light disappearing into the sea of clouds, I suddenly laughed out loud. His sword couldn’t touch me, my tricks couldn’t trap him. But the post-war losses were severe. Calculating the cost, I was overcome with grief. Formation disks broken, pipa smashed, talismans depleted, robes sliced with holes big and small. Since becoming an ancestor, when had I been this pathetic? Not even a thousand years of rest later, those brats in my sect caused trouble again. Big trouble. Negotiations turned into shouting matches, and then the two of us were up again. I was truly annoyed. Every fight destroyed a batch of magical treasures; repairs couldn’t keep up with the damage. After a few rounds, looking at the pile of broken treasures in the warehouse, my heart bled. Both at the Immortal Venerable realm, our fights shook the earth and wasted resources. I didn’t know about him, but I was going broke. Building the Clear Music Palace wasn’t easy. Starting as a rogue cultivator, my ascension was arduous. Without good techniques, one is an ant in the Upper Realm, disdained by all. I stole techniques everywhere, learning from hundreds of schools, barely gaining a foothold. After untold hardships, I finally occupied a dojo and passed down my teachings. Was it easy for me? No. The Heavens are cruel to me! Alas! “Master, stop chanting…” “Sigh… Zizhen, we need a permanent solution. If this nemesis doesn’t die, my heart won’t rest.” Xu Zizhen fanned me while leaning in to offer advice. After muttering for a long time, we looked at each other and simultaneously revealed a dirty smile. 2 Immortal Venerables have thousands of incarnations. Kill him, and there will be another Sylas. But the Ruthless Dao has a fatal flaw: one cannot be moved by emotion. Make him fall in love, destroy his Dao foundation, and thousands of incarnations will meet their end together. I wasn’t the first to try this. The Eastern Sword Saint was frosty as the moon, aloof, restrained, and abstinent. Who wouldn’t want a night with such a handsome man? Not to mention his Immortal Essence was pure Yang—tens of thousands of years of virgin vitality. Every female cultivator drooled, but all returned in defeat. The Ruthless Dao forbids lust and love. It was like winking at a blind man. Some tried force, but the Resoluteness Sword Technique was no joke. Drug him? Stabbed. Ambush him? Stabbed. His Dao heart was so firm that not a drop of Yang essence had leaked in all these years. Soft or hard, he wouldn’t bite. Tricky… Luckily, I recently acquired a new technique. My main body stayed in the Clear Music Pool, while I created a True Immortal clone to infiltrate the Bright Soul Sect and learn a secret art. This art allows viewing others’ memories without discomfort. Even deleting or sealing a segment. If I sealed Sylas’s memories of cultivation… No matter how stone-hearted he is, surely he was easier to handle as a child? Under my instructions, Zizhen caused chaos. Sylas came out with his sword again. He met my eyes once and chased relentlessly. Fighting and retreating, I lured him into an illusion array under the cover of clouds. Mist formed into my likeness, attacking from all sides. I manifested as many clones as I knew secret techniques. Though illusions, hacking through them all exhausted him. I waited patiently for a hundred years. His sword was still sharp, but his spirit was exhausted. Clear notes hooked the soul. I teleported behind him, concealing my presence, fingers lightly touching his temples. A flying sword attacked rapidly, blocked by my defensive treasure. He turned, grabbing my wrist tightly, his gaze sharp, a sword at my neck again. “It’s okay… have a good sleep, it’s okay…” Lips parting slightly, I blew bewildering smoke into his face. He faltered for a moment, and I seized the chance, my divine will piercing his mind. He shook his head, struggling, then fell straight into my arms. “Despicable, falling right onto my chest.” I slapped him twice casually. While he slept, I sealed all his memories of cultivation. 3 Sylas woke up staring at me warily, brows furrowed, radiating coldness. I wondered if the amnesia worked when he asked, “Who are you?” Really amnesiac. As expected of me. I smiled sweetly. “I’m your wife. You hit your head just now, does it still hurt?” My hand reached out but was blocked. “Nonsense. I never had a wife.” I clutched my chest, acting heartbroken. “We’ve been married for two years, always loving. How can you say such things, husband?” He looked around. I had used illusions to build a civilian house here. Modeled after his hobbies, the yard had my favorite flowers and a place for him to practice swordsmanship. A large rock on one side was covered in slash marks. He stroked the sword marks, believing three-tenths of it. Then I coaxed him to sit and eat. He liked strong liquor but wasn’t greedy; I poured him half a cup. His taste was light, mostly bamboo shoots and fish. Poor me, having not cooked for tens of thousands of years, the taste wasn’t great. He took a few bites. “You usually cook?” I bit my lip, shy and annoyed. “If you weren’t injured, who would cook for you?” Sylas’s brows relaxed. He tested me constantly; I was watertight. After thousands of years as enemies, I knew him inside out, down to the moles on his back. “I believe you. Actually, seeing you for the first time, my heart raced and palms sweated. I must have had deep love for you.” That… I looked away guiltily. That was probably deep killing intent… In the days that followed, he did the cooking, negotiating with the fake people I created to buy groceries. Seeing him unsuspicious, I smirked. My illusion arrays were getting more realistic. “Yunqian, how about steamed bass today?” I shuddered, forcing a perfect smile. “Sure, whatever husband makes is delicious.” Once he entered the kitchen, I almost puked. Since believing we were married, he cared for me in every way. Calling me “Yunqian” and “Wife” made my scalp tingle. The sacrifice was great, but thinking of his shattered Dao heart and him at my mercy, I endured. At night, I tugged his sleeve, swaying and acting coquettish. He repeated, “Memories haven’t returned, cannot be improper,” and took a candle to the study. I lay lazily on the bed, yawning. I knew it. Sylas was rigorously, even pedantically, proper. No way he’d really sleep in the same bed. I just found his awkwardness amusing and wanted to tease him. Seeing the usually cold Eastern Sword Saint flustered and shy was truly interesting. 4 As time passed, I checked his Dao heart every night. Stable as a tortoise shell. I tried harder—holding hands, acting cute, almost burrowing into his arms. That damn Dao heart remained firm. Maybe… he didn’t like my type? I looked in the mirror. Peach blossom eyes, ripples of charm in a smile. Unbeatable allure. Clothes were a bit conservative, but I was reluctant to sacrifice that much. Why not send someone else? Isn’t it said a wife is worse than a concubine? So one day, a pure, fragile woman tripped and fell towards him. He retreated quickly. The beauty hit the ground hard. Hiding in the dark, my heart ached. That puppet was made of top-tier materials. That night, I remolded her face—flamboyant, bright, in red robes. Failed again. I tried repeatedly. He ignored them and walked away. Are puppets just puppets, lacking soul? I hooked her chin. She gave me a weeping, complaining look that melted my heart. My puppets were absolutely fine. Is he the problem? Does he like men? That’s easy. I summoned Xu Zizhen, forcing him to change clothes until one look satisfied me. Ethereal white robes, tight waist, handsome and jade-like. I stroked my chin, scanning him. Xu Zizhen hugged his arms, shivering. “Master… what are you doing? I’m your own disciple…” “My dear disciple, settling my lifelong enemy depends on you.” So Xu Zizhen entered the city as a distant cousin and stayed with us. Sylas didn’t reject him but wasn’t warm either. A day passed with no progress. I called Xu Zizhen to discuss tactics. While the two strategists whispered, Sylas suddenly pushed the door open. “Food’s ready. Yunqian must be hungry.” I exchanged a guilty look with Zizhen, then gauged Sylas’s expression. He probably didn’t hear much. During the meal, Xu Zizhen winked at me, signaling: “Sylas cooks pretty well.” I glared at him: “Focus on business!” Sylas was oblivious to our eye signals. But that night, he didn’t go to the study. “Your cousin is here. If I sleep in the study, he’ll think we’re discordant.” He walked towards the bed. My fake smile almost cracked. This… this… “What’s wrong, Yunqian? You look pale.” He leaned over, gently stroking my cheek, thumb rubbing the corner of my lips repeatedly. Hidden darkness in his eyes, staring at me dead on. My hackles rose. “Nothing… just used to being alone these days…” “Is that so…” His eyes still probed, even aggressive. Is he suspicious?! How much did he hear? His thumb pressed heavily on my lips, grinding. A test… I endured the discomfort of violation. “Husband, you’re hurting me.” I dodged lightly, but he grabbed my jaw and turned me back. His lowered lashes trembled, but his fingers were worse, probing inside. “These days… I’ve wronged you, wife.” He leaned in slowly, eyes fixed on me, and kissed. Numbness shot up my spine. Being kissed by a nemesis—the impact was intense. I gripped the sheets, controlling my expression, resisting the urge to push him away. At first just rubbing, then he started nibbling, biting my lips lightly. Filled with aggression, like a beast confirming its prey’s scent. Seemingly thirsty, he sucked like drawing water, changing angles, kissing harder. I struggled, only to be lifted and placed on his lap, him burying his head to kiss. Breathing heavily, the assault intensified, tongue tip trying to enter. I clamped shut. He pinched the back of my neck, coaxing: “Yunqian, open up, let me in.” Heartbeat in chaos. Meeting his eyes burning with dark fire, I felt danger. “Didn’t Yunqian say we were a loving couple? Why reject intimacy?” … Just a kiss! I’m not afraid of his pure Yang body. I kissed back with the resolve of death. Oof… teeth clashed. “Silly Yunqian…” He chuckled, holding my neck and kissing, breath scorching, demanding endlessly. My lips were swollen, clothes rumpled. Checking his Dao heart again… still stable… SYLAS!!!

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