Category: English

1 I got home after midnight from a business trip to find my husband gone, but a woman’s blouse—not mine—lay on the sofa. When I called, he claimed to be working late. I asked directly about the blouse. “It’s a gift for you,” he said casually. “Try it on.” I held it up—it was a size too small. “Julian, I wear a Medium, not a Small.” As a fashion designer, he knew my size perfectly. After a brief pause, he explained, “I had one made for you and one for my sister. I must have mixed them up. I’ll swap it tomorrow.” He then softened, sounding tired: “Ellie, I’ve missed you so much.” Hearing his vulnerability, my heart softened—until I realized: my sister-in-law Diana wears the same size as me. … The blouse was exquisitely made; it certainly had the look of something Julian had designed himself. But the feel of the fabric under my fingertips sparked a fresh wave of doubt. Diana and I were practically body doubles—both of us solidly a size Medium. Could he really have gotten our sizes wrong? I dismissed the thought. It was impossible. Julian was a professional designer, and he was closer to us than anyone. How could he possibly make a size Small blouse for either of us? Unless… unless the blouse wasn’t made for me, or for Diana. Then who was it for? The question took root in my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like an invasive vine. I forced myself to calm down and opened the pet monitoring app on my phone. I’d been away for a month, and the one I worried about most was our cat. I’d installed cameras in the living room and bedroom specifically for that reason. I scrolled the timeline back to the day I left. Other than the cat sitter who came by every day to feed him and clean the litter box, no one else had entered the apartment. No visitors. It seemed I was overthinking things. Julian must have just been exhausted from work. I closed the app and tossed the blouse back on the sofa, determined to let it go. Maybe it was simple. Maybe I was just tired, my mind playing tricks on me. I took a quick shower and ended up falling asleep on the couch. I was startled awake by the sound of the front door opening early the next morning. Julian was back. His face was etched with fatigue. He froze for a second when he saw me. “Ellie? What are you doing sleeping on the sofa? You scared me.” He said it while taking off his shoes. “I wanted to surprise you.” I stood up and took his briefcase from him. “Have you had breakfast? I can make you some pasta.” “No, it’s fine. I ate at the office.” He stretched, rubbing his shoulder, and his eyes landed on the blouse. “Oh, right, the blouse. Did you try it on? Does it fit?” I watched him in silence for a few seconds before asking, trying to sound casual, “I was just thinking, isn’t Diana about the same size as me? Since when does she wear a Small?” Julian’s smile froze. That brief, almost imperceptible pause made my heart sink all over again. “Ah…” He let out a long sigh, his voice dropping. “You’ve been gone for a month, you haven’t had a chance to check in on family.” “Diana… she got really sick a while back. She was in the hospital for over two weeks, lost a shocking amount of weight.” “I’ve been buried in work at the office, and then I’ve had to go straight to the hospital to take care of her after. I’m completely drained.” “I must have measured her then, and my brain just short-circuited and remembered the wrong size. I figured since you two were similar, I just brought yours home when they were both done.” As he spoke, his voice grew thick with emotion. My heart twisted. Guilt washed over me, drowning out all my suspicions. I’d been gone a month, and as her sister-in-law, I hadn’t even called her once. She had been so sick, and I knew nothing about it. Instead, I was here, letting a single piece of clothing turn me into a paranoid wreck. What kind of wife was I? “I’m so sorry, Julian. That’s my fault,” I apologized immediately. “I didn’t know Diana was sick. I’ll go with you to see her tomorrow.” “It’s okay. You were busy with work,” Julian’s voice softened again. “I’m just… I’m exhausted, a little emotional. You should get some sleep. I’m going to take a shower.” Watching his back as he walked into the bathroom, I was a mess of conflicting emotions. I hoped, I really hoped, that I was just overthinking things. The next morning, Julian drove me to the hospital. When he pushed open the door to Diana’s room, I was genuinely shocked. The woman in the bed looked like a shadow of her former self. She was so thin. “Ellie, you’re back,” she said, offering a weak smile. My guilt hit its peak. I walked over, patted her shoulder, and slipped a thick envelope I’d prepared for her into her hand. “You silly girl, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” “Just focus on getting better. Anything you’re craving, you let me know.” Diana grinned. “You’re the best, Ellie.” Seeing how her hospital gown hung off her frail frame, I felt a fresh wave of shame for my suspicions the night before. A size Small would probably be loose on her now. I finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Just then, Julian’s phone rang. He stepped into the hallway to answer it. I faintly heard him say, “Got it, I’ll handle it right away,” before he hung up. “Who was that?” I asked casually. “Trouble at the office?” Julian came back in, gathering his things. “My new assistant. Just a small work thing.” Something inside me clenched. I remembered Julian’s assistant. A steady, middle-aged man. But the voice I’d just overheard on the phone was clearly that of a young woman. My heart was in my throat again, but I kept my face neutral. “You got a new assistant? I thought Mark was doing a great job.” “Oh, right. You know how the company is launching a womenswear line,” Julian explained, his tone completely natural. “I thought it would be a good idea to hire a female assistant. She used to be a model, so she knows the market.” “You were away last month, and then Diana got sick. She stepped in to help, and she’s been great for trying on the samples.” He finished with a playful smirk. “What, are you jealous? If you’re not happy about it, I’ll let her go right now.” He’d put me on the spot. If I pushed any further, I’d look petty and insecure. “No, of course not,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s for work. I get it.” But even as I said the words, the thorn of suspicion lodged itself deeper in my heart. That afternoon, I made an excuse to visit Julian’s company, using my position as an investor to conduct a “site visit.” The moment I walked into the design department, I saw her. The new assistant. Young, beautiful, tall, and radiating a vibrant, youthful energy. A few of the senior staff saw me and greeted me warmly. “Ms. Vance, what a nice surprise!” I smiled and nodded, making small talk. “How’s everything going lately? I hear you’ve brought on a new beauty of an assistant for the womenswear line?” One of the lead designers, a woman named Carol, immediately chimed in. “Oh yes, Ms. Vance. Jenna is a real gem. She’s been a huge help to Mr. Crawford.” “And with a figure like that, she’s a walking mannequin,” another designer added. “She’s been trying on most of the prototypes. It’s saved us a ton of time.” “Mr. Crawford has a sharp eye,” someone else agreed. “The efficiency of the new line has shot way up.” Their praise just made the knot in my stomach tighten. I smiled, walked into Julian’s office, and placed a small astronaut figurine on his desk. It had a well-hidden camera inside. Over the next few days, I checked the live feed whenever I had a spare moment. Everything seemed normal. Jenna rarely entered Julian’s private office. Most of their communication was over the internal phone line. On the few occasions she did go in to report on something, she stood formally in front of his desk and was out within five minutes. There was absolutely no inappropriate behavior between them. For a moment, I was ashamed of myself. Julian was a powerhouse CEO in public, but at home, he was thoughtful and always kept me in the loop about his schedule. His desk was covered in our wedding photos, with him standing on my left, smiling brightly. He called to check in whenever he had a free second. Was I really being too suspicious? Too insecure? But the matter of the blouse still haunted me. Would a designer with such a keen eye for size and detail really make a mistake like that? As the launch of the new line approached, Julian started working late more and more often, sometimes not getting home until one or two in the morning. He said they’d hit a creative roadblock with the new collection. I told him not to push himself so hard, but he just smiled and said it was fine. Then, another detail put me on high alert. The scent of his body wash had changed. At home, we’d always used a cedar-scented one. But for the past few days, he’d come home smelling of a sweet, cloying floral fragrance. When I asked him about it, he was dismissive. “They got a new one for the office breakroom. When I work late, I just shower there so I don’t wake you up coming home.” The excuse was flawless. But the unease in my gut was growing uncontrollably. It was another late night. Julian texted to say he might have to pull an all-nighter and that I should go to sleep. I tossed and turned in bed, unable to rest. On a whim, I opened the camera feed again. The lights in his office were on, but his chair was empty. I frowned and scrubbed back through the recording. Just a few minutes earlier, a figure had flashed past the camera, quickly disappearing into a blind spot in the inner part of the office. It was only for a split second, but I was certain of one thing: it wasn’t Julian. I shot out of bed, threw on some clothes, and poured the chicken soup I’d made into a thermos. Then I grabbed it and ran out the door. Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of his office building. On the entire floor, only his office was lit. My heart hammered against my ribs as I walked to his office door. It was unlocked. I pushed it open. The room was empty. How? I saw her go in! I searched the design department, the breakroom, the storage closet… every single place a person could hide. Nothing. No one. Panting, I returned to Julian’s office. Suddenly, I heard the faint sound of rustling fabric, mingled with a man’s stifled gasp. It seemed to be coming from the corner of the room. I tiptoed over, my footsteps silent. As I got closer, I saw a thin crack of light peeking from between a partition and the wall. A rush of blood went to my head. I yanked the partition away with all my strength. “Julian! What are you two doing?!” I screamed. Behind the partition was a small space, like a walk-in closet. Julian was standing there, staring at me in shock, his hand clutching the arm of a mannequin. There was no one else in the space. He looked at my furious expression, completely bewildered. “Ellie? What are you doing here?” I was past the point of reason. I started tearing through the small space, frantically searching. Julian finally snapped. “Eleanor, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Still finding no one, I pulled out my phone, played the video from the camera, and shoved it in his face. “Where is she? Where did you hide her?!” Julian’s eyes fell on the screen, and his face instantly darkened with rage. “You’re spying on me?” I was so fixated on the mysterious figure that I barely registered his reaction. “I asked you, where is the woman!” “Woman?” Julian let out a scornful laugh and pointed to a female mannequin. “You mean her?” He walked over to it and positioned it in roughly the same pose as the figure in the video. “I was just adjusting its silhouette. I had to move it around to get the right angle.” I froze. The outline of the mannequin… it did seem to match the silhouette from the video. Could it be? Had I really been wrong about him? My rational mind slowly began to resurface, and a chill spread through my limbs. I had doubted him, spied on him, and now I’d stormed in here, accusing him like a madwoman. “I… I’m sorry…” I pressed my forehead into my hand, my voice dry and hoarse. Julian stood with his back to me, his shoulders rigid. After a long silence, he finally turned around. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked utterly exhausted. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know I’ve been working late a lot, neglecting you. It’s normal that your mind would run wild.” I was stunned. He was apologizing to me. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought my work stress home. I made you feel insecure.” He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight, his chin resting on the top of my head. “It’s true, we haven’t really talked in a long time.” “Why don’t you go home, take a shower, and wait for me? I’ll clean this up and be right home, okay?” His tenderness, his understanding, made my guilt crest into a tidal wave. What more could I say? I nodded and went home. But as I sat in the living room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong. The thorn of suspicion hadn’t been removed; it felt like it had just been pushed in deeper. I took out my phone and watched the video clip over and over. Once, twice, ten times, twenty times… I slowed the playback speed to 0.5x, my eyes glued to the screen. And in one fleeting frame, I finally saw it. I saw what was wrong. Julian was definitely lying to me.

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Chapter 1 Five years into our marriage, my husband, Liam, fell madly in love with a college student. The girl was poor but proud. She rejected the black card Liam handed her, saying, “I won’t be anyone’s trophy bird in a gilded cage.” That single sentence made Liam obsessed. He chased after this college girl, causing a scandal all over the city, completely forgetting he had a wife at home—a wife he had wooed with ninety-nine love letters before she finally agreed to marry him. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, every time he hurt me for her sake, I burned one of those love letters. When all ninety-nine letters were ashes, that would be the day I left him for good. The day the first letter burned was our wedding anniversary. He stood me up to sit in the boba shop where she worked, waiting all day just for her shift to end. The day the thirty-sixth letter burned was a stormy night. I had a fever of 104, and he dumped me on the highway because she was afraid of thunder and needed him. The day the seventy-second letter burned was when he took down our wedding photo from the living room wall and replaced it with a doodle she had drawn, just to make her smile. … The ninety-fifth letter burned on the day of an auction. Liam had accompanied me to bid on my mother’s necklace, the sapphire one she loved most before she passed. It was her legacy. But as soon as the auction started, he saw the college girl working there as a server. She glanced at the necklace twice. Liam immediately lit the sky lantern, bidding an astronomical price to win it, then gifted it to her in front of everyone. “I saw you liked it, so I bought it for you,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “Do you like it?” She was wearing a server’s uniform, pushing his hand away self-righteously. “Sir, I told you, I’m not interested in wealth, and I don’t want to be your mistress. No matter what you give me, it’s useless. Please take the necklace back and let me work.” With that, she turned and walked away with her empty tray. Liam wasn’t angry. Instead, he chuckled and chased after her, leaving everyone—including me—behind. My heart seized. I stood there, stunned for two seconds, then ran after them. On the windy deck, Liam was still pestering her. seeing she really wouldn’t accept it, he casually flicked his wrist… And threw the priceless sapphire necklace into the ocean. “If you don’t like it, I’ll pick another one,” he said, his voice impossibly tender. “I’ll keep picking until you’re satisfied.” He walked away with her without looking back, completely oblivious that… I was climbing over the railing, jumping into the dark, freezing ocean without hesitation. As the seawater flooded my nose, I suddenly remembered that five years ago, he proposed to me on a cruise ship just like this. He said, “Paige, from now on, even if you want the stars in the sky, I’ll pluck them for you.” But now, he could toss my mother’s legacy into the sea like it was trash. It took me all night to crawl out of the freezing water. I clutched the necklace in my hand, the metal gleaming from the saltwater, but my fingers were frozen stiff. On the way home, I scrolled through my feed. All the rich kids were posting about it… “Liam is really gone this time, chasing a waitress and making headlines.” “He didn’t make this much noise when he chased his wife, did he?” My finger paused. My heart felt like it was being strangled by a thin wire. Yeah. When he chased me, he wrote 99 love letters and confessed 99 times before I nodded. We went from high school sweethearts to walking down the aisle. Our marriage was sweet once. Everyone said Liam was crazy about me. Until the fifth year. He was at the hospital getting an IV, and he met a clumsy intern. She missed his vein several times, turning his hand blue, but he didn’t get mad. Instead, he stared at her flustered face and smiled. Later, he threw money, cars, and houses at her, trying to make her his mistress. But she rejected him with a face full of integrity: “Mr. Luke, I’m not interested in your money. Please have some self-respect.” She even came to me and said, “Please control your husband. Don’t let him harass me anymore.” Anyone else, and Liam would have exploded. But with her, he wasn’t angry. He chased harder. I confronted him, and he said nonchalantly: “She’s interesting. I’m just playing. When I’ve had enough fun, I’ll come back.” “Paige, I love you, but loving one person for a lifetime is too hard. You have to allow me a moment to wander.” I was in agony, but I couldn’t bear to leave him. So, I took out those 99 love letters and decided to give him 99 chances… Every time he hurt me, I burned one. When the letters were gone, I would be done with him. Right now, I flicked my lighter and burned the ninety-fifth letter. As the flames devoured the paper, I thought: He only has four chances left. When the car arrived at the villa, I saw Liam standing on the stairs, looking down at me as soon as I walked in. “You’re back? I need to talk to you.” I nodded and walked up the steps, defenseless as always. But just as I reached him, he suddenly reached out and shoved me hard! “Ah…!” I tumbled down the stairs, the back of my head slamming against the steps. Warm blood trickled down my forehead, blurring my vision. I was shaking from the pain, looking at Liam in disbelief. He walked down slowly, crouched in front of me, and wiped the blood from my face. “Paige, bear with it.” “She’s looking for a caregiving job… Only if you’re injured do I have a reason to let her move in.” Chapter 2 I never imagined Liam would go this far for Jenny. To chase her, he would hurt his own wife. I tried to speak through the agony, but darkness swallowed me. When I woke up, a sharp pain radiated from the back of my head. I struggled to open my eyes, seeing an unfamiliar ceiling, disoriented. “Mrs. Luke, you’re awake.” A cool voice drifted over. I turned my head and saw Jenny standing by the bed, holding a medical kit. She wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans, a high ponytail, no makeup, radiating youth. “I’m your caregiver, Jenny,” she said calmly, her tone detached. “Even though I moved in, please control Mr. Luke. If he crosses the line again, I’ll leave immediately.” My chest ached. How ironic. This girl moves into my house and tells me, the mistress of the house, to “control my husband.” “I want a different caregiver,” I rasped. Jenny acted like she didn’t hear me, pulling out a syringe. “I’m giving you an anti-inflammatory shot now.” First attempt, couldn’t find the vein. Second attempt, missed, causing a bump on my hand. Third attempt, she poked right through, drawing blood. “If you can’t do it, get someone else,” I said, my voice trembling with pain. Hearing this, Jenny’s eyes reddened instantly. She retorted stubbornly, “What do you mean? If my grandma wasn’t sick, you think I’d want to be here?” She reached for my hand again, and this time the needle scratched my skin deeply. Blood ran down my pale wrist. I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved her away. “Enough! Don’t touch me!” Jenny stumbled back, knocking over the tray. Glass vials shattered on the floor. At that moment, the door burst open. Liam strode in. “What happened?” His gaze darted between us, finally landing on Jenny sitting on the floor. His face darkened. “If I’m not welcome, I’ll leave!” Jenny scrambled up, red-eyed, heading for the door. Liam grabbed her. “Who said that?” Jenny struggled. “Your wife! I was kind enough to give her a shot, and she pushed me! I’m just inexperienced, didn’t you guys know that from the start?” Liam looked at my swollen, bleeding hand. A flash of pain crossed his eyes, but when he turned to Jenny, it turned into compromise. “What will it take for you to stay?” he asked softly. Jenny lifted her chin. “I hate rich people acting high and mighty. I want her to apologize.” “Paige,” Liam turned to me, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Apologize.” I looked at him in disbelief. “She butchered my arm, and I have to apologize?” Liam’s eyes darkened. “If you don’t want to, think about your parents’ company.” I went cold. “You’re threatening me… for her?!” “Paige, it’s just an apology,” Liam frowned impatiently. “You won’t lose a piece of meat. Do you really want to watch your parents go bankrupt?” In that moment, I felt a thousand arrows pierce my heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. Seeing Liam’s expression turn colder, realizing he was serious, I forced myself up. Enduring the humiliation, I bowed deeply to Jenny. “I’m sorry.” Jenny frowned. “Do rich people apologize so quietly?” My nails dug into my palms. I bowed again, raising my voice. “I’m sorry! Are you satisfied now?” Seeing Jenny nod reluctantly, Liam’s face softened. He carefully coaxed her to go get bandaged. The moment the door closed, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I collapsed on the floor, weeping silently. I pulled a yellowed love letter from under my pillow and lit it with trembling hands. As the fire consumed the ninety-sixth letter, I remembered sixteen-year-old Liam writing it. Under the cherry blossom tree on campus, the boy with red ears shoved the letter into my hand and said, “Paige, be with me, okay? I’ll treat you well forever.” The flame died out, and the door suddenly opened. “What are you burning?” Chapter 3 I clenched the charred remains of the letter in my palm, the residual heat stinging my skin. “Nothing. Just burning some trash.” Liam frowned at the scraps, seemingly recognizing something, but before he could think, Jenny’s voice came from the hall. “Mr. Luke, are you going to the party or not? If we don’t leave now, I’m not going!” I looked up. “What party?” “I want to introduce her to the circle.” He paused. “But she says she’s your caregiver, so she’ll only go if you go.” “Paige, just come with me.” I felt like I’d been hit by a sledgehammer. I laughed bitterly. “Liam, what am I to you?” He seemed stunned for a moment, then finally said, “Paige, I already explained. I’ve never met a woman so hard to conquer before, so I’m interested. You don’t need to be jealous. Once I get her and get bored, I’ll come back and live a good life with you.” I closed my eyes. My heart felt numb. In the end, he forced me to go. In the car, Jenny suddenly pulled out a few white pills. “Mrs. Luke, these are antibiotics. You’ll heal faster if you take them.” I stared at the pills, not reaching out. “Are you sure these are antibiotics?” Jenny’s face changed. “If you don’t trust me, I have nothing to say.” “Paige,” Liam frowned, immediately defending her. “Take the medicine.” Under his cold stare, I felt exhausted. I closed my eyes and swallowed the pills with water. In the VIP box at the club, Liam’s boys were waiting. Seeing them enter, everyone started cheering. “Liam finally brought Miss Jenny out!” “So this is the girl Liam dreams about? Truly unique!” I sat in the corner, watching these people who once cheered for us, my heart throbbing with pain. “Miss Jenny, Liam really loves you,” one guy laughed. “Ask for the stars, he’ll get them!” Jenny didn’t believe it. “Really?” They egged her on to test him. “Then… give me the most expensive car in your garage?” She pointed at one of the guys. Liam didn’t hesitate. He smiled and tossed the keys over. Everyone cheered. She tested him a few more times. Watches, houses. He indulged her. The atmosphere in the room peaked. “See? Liam is serious about you. Just give in and agree to be his bird!” Jenny looked stubborn. “Impossible! I will never be a kept woman! Say that again and I’m leaving!” Afraid she’d actually leave, they changed the subject and started playing games. Every round, they let Jenny lose on purpose. The dares were sitting on Liam’s lap, or holding hands. The tenth time Jenny lost, the dare was to kiss the opposite sex on her left for three minutes. Cheers erupted. Liam was sitting on her left. Her expression froze. She stood up abruptly. “Are you guys doing this on purpose? I’m not playing anymore.” “It’s just a game, don’t be so serious.” “Yeah, how could we cheat? Liam is worth billions, is he that childish?” I gripped my glass, watching the smirk on Liam’s lips. Why wouldn’t he? To create a chance to get intimate with Jenny, this billionaire would absolutely play childish games with his frat boy friends. The last time I saw him like this was when he was chasing me. My heart felt like it was being sliced by a dull knife. But what was worse was that my breathing was getting harder. I clutched my chest, realizing my arms were covered in a terrifying rash. It was an allergic reaction. But I was always careful with food. I couldn’t breathe. Hazy, I remembered the pills Jenny gave me. Amidst the jeering, Jenny quickly pecked Liam on the cheek. He clearly wasn’t satisfied. He grabbed the back of her head. “Call that a kiss? Let me teach you what a real kiss is.” The next second, I watched them lock lips, his fingers tangling in her long hair. He didn’t notice his wife breaking out in hives, gasping for air. “Liam…” I struggled to grab his arm. “Take me to the hospital… I’m having a reaction…” “Stop it.” He pushed me away without looking, his other hand still holding Jenny’s neck. “Please…” I tugged at his shirt again, my voice hoarse. This time he shoved me hard, pinning Jenny to the sofa to deepen the kiss. Kissing harder, addicted, intertwined. As he lost himself in the game, my vision blurred. I stumbled and crashed into the champagne tower. Through the sound of shattering glass, I finally heard Jenny scream. “She fainted!” Chapter 4 When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Jenny was sobbing outside the door. “What do I do… I didn’t mean to mistake the sleeping pills for antibiotics…” “If something happens, it’s a major medical accident…” Then came Liam’s gentle comfort. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” “Even if they investigate, I can sign the waiver as family.” I bit my lip until I tasted iron. After a while, the door opened. Liam walked in. “What happened to me?” I asked, trembling. “Why did I faint?” “Low blood sugar.” Hearing those three words from his mouth, I heard my heart shatter. I remembered when we first got married, a socialite tried to force drinks on me. The next day, Liam tanked her company’s stock. When she knelt to apologize, he held my waist and said, “Paige, as long as I’m here, no one touches a hair on your head.” Now, I almost died because of Jenny’s “mistake,” and he was protecting the culprit! Liam, oh Liam. How could you hurt me like this? I was shaking with pain, but Liam didn’t notice a thing. Seeing I was “fine,” he stood up impatiently. “Jenny was scared all night because of you. I’m taking her home. I’ll come back later.” But for the next few days, I never saw him. I only saw on Instagram that he took Jenny to the beach, to concerts, to all the places we promised to go but never did. The day I was discharged, Liam finally appeared. He leaned against the car holding a bouquet of chrysanthemums. Seeing me, he handed them over. “Been busy with work. Today is your mom’s death anniversary. I’ll go with you.” I took the flowers silently, then realized Jenny was in the car too. I sat in the back, ignoring them, watching the scenery fly by. I remembered my mom’s last words: “Paige, I just hope you find someone who truly loves you.” I touched the three remaining love letters in my bag and thought bitterly: Mom, I think I picked the wrong guy. At the cemetery, before I could even pay my respects, I got hit with bad news. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Carter. The recent rains caused landslides. We need to relocate the graves in this section…” I gripped my bag, knuckles white. Mom loved peace and quiet. Now she couldn’t even rest in death. Liam appeared behind me, signing the paperwork the staff handed him. “Paige, go bring the urn down. I’ll handle the relocation procedures.” I nodded and walked up the hill. Rain soaked the stone steps. I dragged my weak body up, every step like walking on knives. Staff had already opened the grave. I knelt in the mud and lifted out the urn. A simple sandalwood box carved with her name… Eleanor Carter. “Your mom must have been beautiful,” Jenny said suddenly, reaching out. “Mrs. Luke, let me help you carry it.” “No need.” I turned sideways to avoid her, carefully walking down the hill with the box. But then, Jenny screamed. “Ah! A bug!” In her panic, she slammed into me. I was caught off guard and tumbled down the stairs. I hugged the urn tight, my back slamming against the stone steps. Pain blinded me. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Jenny ran down frantically. “Let me help you pick it up!” She reached for the urn. Before I could stop her, she slipped… Smash! The urn hit the ground hard and shattered. Grey ashes spilled everywhere, instantly soaked by the rain. “I’m sorry! I… I’ll clean it up!” Jenny scrambled to scoop up the ashes, but she only made a bigger mess. Washed away by the rain, my mother’s ashes disappeared into the mud. I shook violently. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I slapped her. “Enough! You did that on purpose!” Jenny clutched her face, tears flowing instantly. “I didn’t! I just wanted to help! I’m clumsy, but I had good intentions! Why did you hit me? I’m poor, but I won’t let you humiliate me like this!” “You just lost your mom’s ashes, but I lost my dignity!” Despair rushed to my head. I raised my hand again, but a strong grip stopped me. Liam appeared out of nowhere, grabbing my wrist. “Paige! What are you doing?” Jenny finally spoke, crying like a pear blossom in the rain. “I just tried to help her move the urn… I accidentally spilled it… and she hit me…” “If you guys can’t tolerate me, I’ll just leave.” She took a step, and Liam pulled her into his arms. “Don’t go. I’ll get justice for you.” Then, he looked at me coldly. “Apologize!” Rain mixed with tears on my face. I watched him tenderly wipe Jenny’s tears while yelling at me to apologize. It felt like someone carved a piece of my heart out. I stared at him, lips trembling. “Liam, did you hear me? She smashed my mother’s urn!” “That’s no reason to hit her!” Liam’s voice was colder than the rain. He grabbed Jenny’s wrist. “Don’t be scared. Since she won’t apologize and she hit you, hit her back.” My pupils shrank. Before I could react, I saw Liam’s large hand guide Jenny’s, slapping me with thunderous force. Slap! This slap was ten times harder than mine. Chapter 5 I stumbled back, the world spinning. My lower back hit a tombstone, knees slamming onto the stone steps. Sharp pain exploded through my body. But it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. The tearing agony made it hard to breathe. Liam didn’t even look at me. He just wiped the rain from Jenny’s face. “Feel better?” Only when he heard her sob a “Yeah” did he sigh in relief. He wrapped his jacket around her and picked her up. Turning away, his leather shoes crushed the scattered ashes into the mud, leaving a glaring footprint. I sat in the rain, shaking with pain. I reached out with trembling hands, trying to scoop up the grey powder, but the rain washed it away too fast. Just like my love for Liam. Slipping through my fingers. “Mom, I was wrong…” I choked out. “I married the wrong man. I shouldn’t have married him…” After collecting what little ash remained, I took the ninety-seventh letter from my bag and lit it with shaking hands. As the fire ate the paper, I remembered Liam promising my sick mother: “Don’t worry, I’ll protect Paige with my life. I won’t let anyone bully her.” Liam. So helping another woman beat me is your way of protecting me? I regret it. I regret loving you so much. I had a fever all night. I dreamed I was sinking into the cold ocean. My mother’s ashes fell like snow around me. I tried to catch them, but I couldn’t. “Paige… Paige…” Someone was calling me. I struggled to open my eyes. I wasn’t in bed. I was in a speeding car. Outside, the scenery blurred. Liam gripped the steering wheel, his face grim. “Liam…” my voice was wrecked. “Where are you taking me?” He didn’t look at me. “Jenny was kidnapped.” I froze. My brain slowly rebooted. “So?” “The kidnapper asked for you.” He finally glanced at me. “It’s Zeke.” Zeke. That name was a knife. The psycho who stalked me until Liam ran him out of town. “You… you’re trading me for Jenny?” My voice shook. Liam tightened his grip on the wheel. “Zeke used to like you. He won’t hurt you.” I felt like I fell into an ice cave. I struggled to open the door, but my hands were tied under the seatbelt. “Liam!” I screamed. “Are you crazy? You know what kind of person Zeke is!” “Paige, calm down.” His voice was terrifyingly calm. “Once I get Jenny back, I’ll come save you immediately.” The car stopped at an abandoned warehouse. “I brought her.” Liam pushed me forward. “Where’s Jenny?” Zeke snapped his fingers. Two goons brought Jenny out. She was messy, tear-stained. Seeing Liam, her eyes lit up. “Mr. Luke!” Liam let go of me instantly and rushed to hug her. “It’s okay. I’m here.” I stood there, freezing. I watched him check her for injuries. I watched him wipe her tears. I watched him not give me a single glance. “Liam!!!” I screamed. He finally turned back. “Don’t be scared. I’ll come back for you soon.” Then, he put his arm around Jenny and walked away. Without looking back. I tried to run after them, but Zeke grabbed my wrist. “Long time no see, Miss Carter.” His breath on my ear made me shudder. Zeke shoved me into a car and drove straight to a hotel. The moment the door closed, he threw me onto the bed. Chapter 6 “Liam is generous,” he loosened his tie. “Hand-delivering a beauty like you.” I fought, but he overpowered me easily. He pressed down on me, tracing my cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” “Get off me…” I shook. “Don’t touch me…” Seeing my fear, Zeke laughed. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a chance. Call Liam. If he answers, I’ll let you go.” Trembling, I dialed Liam’s number. Once, twice, three times… Over a hundred calls. None answered. “See that, Paige? You’re worthless to him now.” “Be with me. I’ll make you happy.” Zeke grinned and leaned in, tearing at my dress. Just as he was about to violate me, I snapped. I grabbed a vase from the nightstand and smashed it over his head. He grunted and collapsed. I ran. It was pouring rain. I stumbled home. Soaked, bruised. Pushing open the door, I saw Jenny crying in Liam’s arms. “Did you really risk your wife’s life for me?” Liam wiped her tears. “Yes. You’re the most important thing to me.” Jenny cried harder. He cupped her face helplessly. “Baby, you’re safe now. Why are you still so scared?” “Who wouldn’t be scared after being kidnapped…” Liam smirked. “I know a way to make you not scared.” “I don’t believe you…” “Let me try?” He smiled. Then, Liam kissed her, pressing her onto the sofa. I watched, feeling my heart being carved out. I turned and walked back into the rain. I ran until I reached the old house. This was where we grew up. Our families were close. We lived in neighboring villas. Rain dripped from my hair. I walked to the old oak tree in the backyard. I remembered when we were eighteen, we buried a time capsule here. We promised to dig it up in ten years. “Paige, in ten years we’ll definitely be married.” Teenage Liam smiled brightly, putting a letter in the tin box. “I wrote a letter to my future self, telling him to love you forever.” I knelt in the mud, digging with my bare hands. My nails broke, fingers bled. I didn’t feel it. The box was rusty, but the letter was intact. I unfolded the paper with trembling hands. Teenage Liam’s neat handwriting jumped out: “To 28-year-old Liam: If you dare stop loving Paige, 18-year-old me will never forgive you. Remember, she is your life.” Rain blurred the ink. I pressed the letter to my chest and sobbed. I missed the boy who blushed giving me love letters. I missed the Liam who swore to protect me. “He broke his promise… he broke his promise…” I cried to the air, as if the boy could hear me. I sat there until the rain stopped. Then, I took the ninety-eighth letter from my bag and lit it.

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My introverted, hearing-impaired husband has been acting weird lately. He’s glued to his phone all day, refuses kisses, refuses hugs, and goes to bed before 6 PM. Until I secretly checked his phone and found his chat logs with a lawyer. “Mr. Lawyer, if some scumbag is hitting on my wife, what can I do? Can I sue him?” “It’s not my wife’s fault. She’s just being bewitched. The Tarot cards said we’d grow old together. I’m not delusional. I’m not going to bed early because I’m scared she’ll bring a man home. The Tarot said she won’t divorce me…” “Wait, why are you telling me to prepare for a divorce? I get it now. You want to trick me into divorcing her so you can have her! Keep dreaming, you homewrecker! All men are homewreckers…” 1 After a long day at work, I rubbed my sore shoulders and pushed open the front door. The huge house was cold and empty, save for a dim sconce light in the living room. Obviously, my husband, Liam, had gone to bed early again. This was the fourth time this week he’d gone to sleep without waiting for me. I massaged my temples wearily, stepping into the slippers Liam had handmade for me, and walked into the kitchen. The aroma of food hit me immediately. Just like before, he had made dinner and left it warm on the stove before going to bed. But I had no appetite today. I walked upstairs quietly. Memories of Liam from the past few days flooded my mind. I was always working late, so I missed our morning goodbye kiss—a ritual we promised to keep when we got married. The lunch he packed for me often came back home untouched in my bag because I was too busy to eat. My job in the lab meant I couldn’t wear jewelry, including the necklace and earrings he gave me, and even our wedding ring. After work, I went straight to comfort my best friend who was going through a divorce, instead of coming home. Recently, my ex-fiancé returned from abroad and tried to meet me through mutual friends, though I rejected him every time. I shook my head, dismissing my own suspicions. Liam is my ex-fiancé’s half-brother. True to his nature, he is sober, introverted, and quiet. A car accident at eighteen left him deaf in both ears. Since then, unable to hear and unwilling to speak much, his status in the family plummeted. He became somewhat submissive. Our marriage was an accident, precipitated by his rebellious brother suddenly calling off our engagement. According to his family’s housekeeper… Liam’s brother stole all his savings and tried to force him to marry me in his stead. Liam refused resolutely and was beaten half to death by their biased father. The day after, Liam came to me, covered in bruises and blood, yet trying his best to look strong. “I know the person you want to marry is my brother, not a useless mute like me.” “I tried, but I really couldn’t stop my father. Clara, he hit me so hard…” I watched this man nearly lose his life trying to save my happiness. A tear fell from the corner of his eye, landing right on my heart. My heart clenched instantly. I decided right then and there to marry Liam. After two years together, I knew Liam was a deeply loyal and traditional man at his core. He poured all his energy into his work. If he had problems, he kept them to himself and digested them alone. So, he wouldn’t be throwing a tantrum over these trivial matters. With his personality and experience, he’d probably think such behavior was too dramatic. 2 I pushed open the bedroom door. Liam was lying on the bed, back to me. His hearing aids were on the nightstand. His breathing was light, as if he were asleep. But he wasn’t someone who usually slept early. For the past two years, he’d keep me up until the early hours almost every night. Only after I hoarsely whispered every sweet nickname I could think of into his ear would he reluctantly let me go. In some aspects, Liam was a beast in sheep’s clothing, completely at odds with his cool exterior. I walked softly to the bed and touched his face. Liam turned over just then, eyes closed, his cool, thin lips brushing against my palm. A shiver ran through me. In those few seconds, it felt like he had licked my palm ingratiatingly. I cleared my throat and pushed him. “Liam, wake up.” I don’t know if he took sleeping pills, but it took several hard shoves to wake him. His soft hair was messy from sleep, his dark eyes moist. Being stared at by his thick, intense gaze made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Liam.” I suppressed the discomfort. Knowing he reads lips, I leaned close to his face. “Wake up, I have something to tell you.” As soon as I said that… Liam’s pupils shrank. His body under the quilt trembled uncontrollably as he tried to maintain his composure. I continued, “It’s just that recently outside…” “I don’t want to hear it right now!” Liam finally snapped out of it, turning his face away expressionlessly, his voice hoarse. My smile froze. I just wanted to share some work troubles. Why this attitude? Now I was even more sure he wasn’t mad about trivial things. Because he didn’t even want to listen. 3 In the awkward silence that followed… Liam lowered his eyelashes, casting an uneasy shadow under his eyes. When he spoke, his tone was filled with fragile helplessness and pleading, begging for my softness. “Clara, my… my hearing aids are broken.” “So can we not talk today? At least wait until I get them fixed…” Oh, so his hearing aids were broken. I paused for a few seconds, then couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, let’s talk after you fix them. My sign language sucks anyway.” Liam stared intently at my lips. Understanding what I said, he took a breath like a survivor of a disaster, his tense shoulders relaxing slowly. I was about to get up but remembered something and sat back down. “By the way, can you go fix them yourself?” “I know a guy who’s really good at this. I can take them to him, and he’ll have them fixed in a day.” Hearing this, Liam suddenly gripped the bedsheet, his knuckles turning white. I reached out my hand. “Give them to me. It’ll be quick.” Liam was silent for a long time. He struggled to lift the corners of his mouth, trying to smile, but it looked worse than crying. “…One day?” “Is it that urgent? Are you in a rush, or is he in a rush?” “That shameless homewrecker, does he even know…” His voice dropped lower and lower. I couldn’t hear clearly. “Liam, what are you saying? I didn’t catch that.” Liam snapped back to reality, deep regret flashing in his eyes. He shook his head repeatedly. “Nothing, I didn’t say anything. I was talking to myself. You wanted to fix my hearing aids?” Liam spoke calmly. He picked up the hearing aids and clenched them in his hand. Veins popped on the back of his hand, and a faint cracking sound came from his palm. I was about to reach out to take them. But Liam let go, and the hearing aids fell to the floor, shattering into pieces. I was stunned. How did they break like that from just falling? Liam lowered his head, his bangs hiding the emotions in his eyes, his voice sounding disappointed. “Oh no, how unlucky. My hand slipped. They’re smashed.” “Can they still be fixed in a day now?” I scratched my head. “Uh, probably not.” Liam pursed his lips, his eyes silently lighting up, showing a faint smile. I bent down to pick up the pieces. “Liam, let’s just buy new ones tomorrow.” The smile on Liam’s face froze. Seeing him silent, I waved my hand in front of him. “Liam, did you understand me? I said we’ll get new ones…” “No need!” Liam interrupted me urgently, meeting my eyes then quickly looking away. “Really, no need, Clara.” “I’m used to these. I’ll find a way to fix them. It just needs a little time.” “Clara, give me some time. Let me breathe.” At this point… He choked up, swallowing hard with great difficulty. “Please… I beg you.” I didn’t understand, but I wouldn’t force him. “Okay, we’ll do it your way.” 4 Liam fell silent. It was as if those few sentences had drained all his strength. He seemed to have fallen into an abyss, surrounded by darkness, his breathing slow and heavy. I thought he hadn’t slept well, so I stood up. “Alright Liam, you sleep first, I’m going to…” Before I could finish. Liam shuddered and suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip strong enough to crush bone. I hissed in pain. “Liam, what are you doing?” “Sorry, Clara…” Liam quickly let go, pursing his lips in guilt, blowing gently on my red wrist. “Sorry, does it still hurt?” I looked down at him, my breath hitching. Liam looked incredibly attractive from this angle—curled lashes, red lips. When he spoke, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. It was so sexy. It was amazing. Liam’s appearance hadn’t changed a bit in my memory. He was a pretty boy growing up, and now he was a beautiful man. He had always been this good-looking. Not getting an answer, Liam looked up at me, his gaze shattering, his smile desolate. “Clara? Why aren’t you talking?” “What are you thinking about? Thinking about things, or thinking about someone?” “Do you think of someone else even when you’re with me…” I couldn’t hear what he was saying anymore. All I could see were his kissable lips. So, I couldn’t resist bending down and kissing him. Liam’s eyelashes fluttered violently. He instinctively moved closer, pressing his lips tighter against mine, trying his best to please me. I could feel his breathing quicken, his hands tentatively hugging me, then holding me tighter and tighter. Amidst our intertwined breaths… I vaguely felt a cold drop of liquid land on my collarbone. …Liam seemed to be crying.

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My wife showed up to finalize our divorce just as I’d finally managed to calm down her 18-year-old self. The moment she heard the word “divorce,” she exploded all over again. She started pacing, ready to charge out the door. “How dare she divorce my future husband! Who the hell does she think she is?” 1 I had to sneak away from the 18-year-old Celia to meet the 30-year-old Celia at City Hall to sign the papers. On the way there, the younger version must have woken up, because she called me. “Where are you?” I shot a nervous glance at the woman driving beside me and lowered my voice. “Just out buying something.” “Why didn’t you wake me? I’ll come find you.” “No, no, don’t! I’ll be back in a minute!” After a lot of back-and-forth, I finally managed to talk her down. “Who was that?” The Celia in the driver’s seat was tense, her lips pressed into a thin line. “No one. Can we speed it up? I’m worried there’ll be a line if we’re late.” The words had barely left my mouth when she slammed on the brakes. “Let’s just do it another day.” “Huh?” “I just remembered I have something to do. We can reschedule the divorce.” Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get out of the house? 2 Celia was my first love. We dated for five years before getting married. Unfortunately, the marriage didn’t last. Last month, we decided to get a divorce. But then, out of nowhere, the 18-year-old version of Celia “time-traveled” into my life. She just appeared in my apartment, bold as brass. And with the supreme confidence of a girlfriend, she moved right in. At 18, Celia and I had just started dating. We were in the honeymoon phase, madly in love. So when she heard I was planning to divorce her future self, she lost it. “I’m going to find that old woman right now! Who does she think she is, divorcing my man?” “Don’t you worry,” she vowed. “I would sooner kill myself than let you suffer like this.” Even though I explained that it was an amicable split, she refused to believe me. “A day will come when I don’t love you? Impossible!” “You want a divorce? Fine. You’ll have to step over my dead body first.” From that day on, she initiated a full-blown surveillance strategy, shadowing my every move. Forget getting a divorce. I could barely even get a moment alone with the other Celia. I thanked my lucky stars that the older Celia and I were already living separately. If I had to deal with both of them under one roof, I’d have a complete breakdown. 3 The 30-year-old Celia had no idea about any of this. Frankly, I didn’t see the point in telling her. To me, the 18-year-old girl and the 30-year-old woman were two completely different people. One had eyes only for her work. The other had eyes only for me. When I got home, the young Celia was sitting on the sofa. The picture of aloof elegance. The moment she saw me, she pounced, sniffing me all over like a curious puppy. I dodged away, ticklish. “What are you smelling for?” “A woman’s scent.” Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t go behind my back to divorce that hag, did you?” My heart skipped a beat. Her instincts were terrifyingly sharp. “Of course not. Didn’t I promise to give her a chance?” The younger Celia sighed. “You have no idea how hard this is for me, having to play matchmaker for my own husband and another woman every single day.” That night, while she was in the shower, I called Celia. I wanted to get this divorce over with as soon as possible. But a man’s voice answered the phone. “Mr. Hayes.” It was Celia’s assistant, Simon. “Where’s Celia?” “The Director is in the shower and can’t come to the phone right now. If you have a message, I can relay it for you.” I was about to speak when the bathroom door in my apartment creaked open. Guilt shot through me, and I instantly hung up. The young Celia stepped out, her hair still dripping, with nothing but a towel wrapped around her. Her 18-year-old body was… captivating. Even after twelve years with Celia, I wasn’t immune to that kind of visual assault. My expression must have given me away, because a smug smile played on her lips. She padded over to me, barefoot. “How do I stack up against her?” She was talking about her 30-year-old self. The older Celia stayed in shape, of course, but she was nothing like she was a decade ago. Besides, she was so busy… I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d been intimate. Seeing the complicated look on my face, her expression soured. “Is she… in really bad shape?” Before I could answer, her eyes widened in horror. “Don’t tell me… I let myself go? At thirty? I’m… out of shape???” Me: ? Her face crumbled. “Don’t say anything. I get it now. I finally understand why you want a divorce. I just… I need a minute to process this.” She trudged back to her bedroom, looking utterly defeated. For a moment, I honestly had no idea how to explain. My phone rang again. The caller ID said Celia. “Did you just call me?” “Yeah. I wanted to ask when you’re free to go to City Hall.” Before she could answer, my bedroom door cracked open and a small head peeked out. “Honey, where are my pajama pants?” I frantically covered the mouthpiece. “On the balcony.” “Oh. Okay.” The door closed. The woman on the other end of the line went completely silent. “Leo,” she finally said, her voice dangerously quiet, “we are not divorced yet.” “I know,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “That’s why I’m trying to schedule a time to sign the damn papers.” More silence. Finally, she spoke again, each word dripping with ice. “I would hope that until our marriage is officially over, you would maintain a basic level of respect for our relationship.” I thought of the male assistant who was at her place so late at night and let out a cold laugh. “Why don’t you take a look in the mirror before you lecture me.” 4 That call soured my mood completely. I lay in bed that night, tossing and turning, my mind replaying twelve years of history with Celia. Sleep was impossible. Finally, I got up. As I stepped out of my room, I saw the young Celia sitting in the living room. She looked up, startled. “Can’t sleep?” “No, just thirsty. Getting some water.” “You touch your nose when you lie.” She walked over to me. “You’re upset. Is it because of… that old woman?” This time, I didn’t answer. To my surprise, she puffed out her chest. “Go on. Hit me.” “What?” “Maybe you’ll feel better if you let it out on me.” She squeezed her eyes shut, ready for martyrdom. “Don’t worry. I’m young. I can take a punch.” I couldn’t help but laugh, giving her a light tap on the chest. Seeing me smile, she finally relaxed, grabbing my hand and pulling me into a hug. She mumbled into my shoulder, “I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t get how a gorgeous woman like me could suddenly, one day, just… let it all go…” She really thought that was the reason! I sighed dramatically. “I know, right? I was shocked too. I’ll buy you some workout equipment tomorrow. We’ll start you at 18. Maybe there’s still hope.” The look of utter devastation on her face was, I have to admit, immensely satisfying. Her presence had a way of soothing the anxiety of the divorce. It felt like I had traveled back to a time when Celia’s world revolved around me. She’d drop me off and pick me up from work, we’d go on dates, or we’d just spend the entire day at home, perfectly content in each other’s company. A few days later, a rumor started spreading around my office: a beautiful young woman was pursuing me. Eventually, the gossip reached the ears of the 30-year-old Celia. I was out to dinner with the younger one when she called. “I hear you have a new admirer.” I glanced at the girl across from me and stepped outside. “I do. So if you could please sign the papers and stop holding up my future, I’d appreciate it.” “You want a divorce because of her?” “No.” “Then why?” “Celia, don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking that question?” She didn’t ask when I first brought it up. But now that someone else is in the picture, she’s suddenly curious. She sighed softly on the other end. “Leo, how did we get here?” Yeah. How did two people who were once so in love end up like this? Just as I was about to answer, I heard Simon’s voice in the background. “Director, the meeting starts in five minutes. The team from Apex is already in the conference room.” “I took the liberty of swapping your usual coffee for barley tea, since I was worried about your stomach. I hope you don’t mind.” I hung up. I stood outside for a moment before going back in. When I did, I saw two young guys standing by our table, trying to get the young Celia’s number. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.” “We just want your number. No harm in that.” She looked at them deadpan. “Not happening. My husband has a short leash on me. You should probably go.” She understood how to keep her distance from other men at 18. Why was it so hard for her 30-year-old self to do the same? I walked over. The two guys looked at me, surprised. One of them chuckled. “Come on, ‘boyfriend’ is just an excuse, right? This guy’s way too old for you.” The young Celia’s face darkened instantly. “You might be young, but you look old as hell.” She wasn’t done. She pointed to her chest. “You know what this is?” The guy just stared, shaking his head. “A heart that beats only for my husband!” Then she held up her right hand. “And you know what this is?” They both shook their heads again. She smirked. “A fist that’s about to rearrange your pretty face.” “Let me hear one more word against my husband, and I’ll knock you into next week.” The guys: … Me: … Long after they’d scurried away, she was still fuming, muttering under her breath. I tried to hide my smile. “I am older than you. It’s just a fact. No need to get upset.” “So what? I don’t care if you’re 18 or 80, if your hair is gray or you have no teeth left. You’ll always be my baby to spoil.” 5 I don’t know if her appearance had somehow rattled the older Celia, but she started contacting me a lot more often. Just trivial things. Asking if I’d eaten, what I was doing. I couldn’t remember the last time Celia had made small talk with me. It had been years. But now, her messages just felt… ironic. “Since we’ve already decided on a divorce, let’s cut back on the pointless pleasantries. The next time I hear from you, I hope it’s to tell me when you’re available to go to City Hall.” “So aside from that, there’s nothing else for us to talk about?” “You’re just realizing that now? We ran out of things to say to each other a year ago.” After I said it, a heavy silence fell between us. It wasn’t always like this. As her business grew, as she got busier, the space between us widened. Work during the day, overtime in the evening, client dinners at night… the man by her side for all of it was never me. After a long pause, she finally just said, “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” I didn’t think much of it, but a few days later, Simon showed up at my door. “The Director is in a meeting. She said she left a file at home and asked me to pick it up.” I wasn’t thrilled about him showing up unannounced, but I went to the study, found the folder, and handed it to him. He took it but didn’t leave. “Perhaps it’s not my place to say this, but as her assistant, I’m concerned about the Director’s well-being.” He looked me in the eye. “I heard you’re the one who initiated the divorce. Since you’ve made your decision, you should stop dragging it out and wasting everyone’s time. You’ve already found a younger woman, yet you keep stringing your ex-wife along. The Director is too decent to call you out, but you shouldn’t take advantage of her kindness.” “Who do you think you are, lecturing him like that?” I hadn’t even had a chance to respond before the young Celia appeared, a surgical mask covering her mouth. She glared at Simon. “You’re the help, not the boss. So mind your own business. Whatever is going on between my husband and his wife is none of your damn business. I’ve seen guys like you before. You’re just waiting for them to split up so you can make your move. Well, let me tell you something: a guy like you? I wouldn’t look twice at you in 12 years, or even 120.” The words shot out of her like a machine gun, relentless and brutal. Simon was stunned. “You two… are living together?” “Yeah, we are! What about it?” she snapped. “You want to go tattle to your boss? Then go! Stop loitering around here like a bad smell.” It was an overwhelming amount of information to process. Before I could react, she had slammed the door in his face. The next second, the fierce warrior was gone. She turned to me, her expression grim. “So, it’s because of him, isn’t it?” I froze. She pressed her lips together. “You want a divorce because of that man?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My silence was all the confirmation she needed. Her face clouded over as she turned to go back to her room. I didn’t understand why she was suddenly upset. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this?” She just scoffed. “Happy about what? That when I’m thirty, my eyesight will be so bad I’ll fall for a guy like that? I’d rather just be out of shape.” 6 The idea that her 30-year-old self had “cheated” seemed to be too much for her to handle. The young Celia was in a foul mood all day. That evening, her favorite drama came on, but she stayed in her room. That’s when I knew it was serious. What if she couldn’t accept it? What if she was planning on doing something drastic? I was about to knock on her door when my doorbell rang. It was Celia. Her face was flushed, her hair a mess. When she saw me, she mumbled my name, her voice hoarse. “Leo.” For reasons I couldn’t explain, I slammed the door in her face. The noise must have startled the girl inside, because her door creaked open. A small gap appeared. “Who is it?” “The power company!” The lie flew out of my mouth. “Oh,” she said, about to come out. I rushed to stop her. “No, no, stay in there!” Young Celia: ? “But… you said my show was starting…” “I’ll bring you the tablet! You can watch it in your room!” My brain was spinning. “I’m still mad at you! Mad that in 12 years you’re going to fall for another guy! I don’t want to see you right now!” She bought it. Her shoulders slumped even further. “This is so unfair. It feels like my future self chopped down a tree, and now I’m the one getting hit by the splinters.” Just as her door closed, there was another knock on the front door. Terrified she’d come out again, I flung the door open and hissed, “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” “I missed you.” Celia’s eyes were glassy and wet. She looked so much like the girl in the other room it was unnerving. I sniffed the air. “Have you been drinking?” She didn’t answer, just tried to squeeze past me. I blocked the doorway. “What are you doing?” “This is my house! Why won’t you let me in?” she whined, pouting. “I want to come home! I want to go to sleep!” My temples throbbed. While I was trying to figure out what to do, she spotted a gap and darted inside like a rabbit, turning back to give me a goofy, triumphant grin. She was a completely different person from her sober self. There was no way I could kick her out now. I had to put her up for the night. I was never more grateful that when the younger Celia first arrived, I had insisted—on the principle of not corrupting a minor—that we sleep in separate rooms. Otherwise, this would be a whole new level of awkward. Celia stumbled into my bedroom and immediately sprawled out on my bed in a perfect starfish. Her eyes were fixed on me. I ignored her, grabbing a spare blanket, intending to sleep on the couch. But as I turned to leave, she rolled off the bed and wrapped her arms around me from behind. “I don’t want a divorce.” I froze. She rubbed her fluffy head against my back. “You’re living with her, aren’t you?” Ah. Now I understood. “Simon told you?” Celia nodded meekly. I didn’t know how to feel. “Celia, the person who’s been trying to have their cake and eat it too, this whole time, is you, not me.”

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It was 2:00 AM. I found my sister in the basement. She was supposed to be in London with her husband. She was wearing a red silk slip dress, covered in bruises. Chains bound her hands and feet, and her legs were wrapped in layers of bloody red bandages. Seeing me, she looked terrified and whispered urgently: “Watch out for Mom and Dad!” 1 I wanted to ask my sister what was happening, but I heard footsteps upstairs. Someone was walking around. My gut told me to hide immediately. Just as I squeezed into an old wardrobe, someone came down the stairs. I peeked through the gap in the doors. It was Dad. He was carrying a plate of leftovers from last night’s dinner. It looked like slop. My sister trembled violently when she saw him. Dad grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open, and shoved the disgusting food down her throat. She gagged and vomited it all up. Dad didn’t get angry. He just stood there, watching her quietly. When she finished heaving, he started stuffing the food into her mouth again. Finally, the bowl was empty. Dad smiled at her, satisfied. Then he put down the bowl, walked over to her legs, and pulled a fruit knife from his pocket. He unwrapped the red bandages. I gasped silently. My sister’s legs, once her pride, were now mangled and uneven. Some parts were festering with pus. Dad adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. If I remember correctly, my sister bought those for him with her first paycheck. I watched, horrified, as he raised the knife. It was the same knife I used to peel apples. Now, Dad was using it to slice pieces of flesh from my sister’s legs. One piece at a time. The smell of blood and rotting meat filled the room. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, trying not to scream. Dad suddenly looked up, staring straight at the wardrobe. I held my breath, paralyzed with fear. Luckily, he looked away after a few seconds. He cleaned up the mess, picked up the plate of fresh meat he had just carved from my sister, and left. Only when the footsteps faded did I dare to crawl out. My legs were jelly. I stumbled over to my sister. Her legs had been re-bandaged, but fresh blood was already seeping through. I looked at my dying sister in disbelief. Her own father did this to her. We are a blended family. My mom married my sister’s dad, bringing me along as “baggage.” On the surface, we were a happy family. Especially my sister. Ever since she joined the family, my mom, who never liked me, started treating me better. I thought everything was improving. But just now, my sister told me my mom killed her mom. She said they are both murderers and warned me to be careful. I don’t remember how I got back to my room. Lying in bed, I kept telling myself it was just a nightmare. When I wake up, my sister will still be in London with her husband. 2 When I went downstairs, Mom was busy in the kitchen. Dad, who looked like a monster last night, was sitting in the morning light reading the newspaper. Everything seemed peaceful. I sat opposite Dad, looking at the lavish breakfast, and asked tentatively, “Dad, where’s sis?” Dad frowned, reaching over to feel my forehead with a look of concern. “Are you sick, honey? Your sister moved to London with your brother-in-law two years ago. You cried at the airport, remember?” Right. That’s what happened. I watched them board the plane. Was it really just a dream? Mom came out of the kitchen with a bowl of meat soup and placed a large serving in front of me. She insisted I finish it. The soup looked delicious, but I hesitated. “Why aren’t you eating? Don’t you like it?” Mom asked, puzzled. I shook my head. “I like it. Thanks, Mom.” I stirred the soup carefully. A slice of meat floated to the surface. Suddenly, the image from my dream flashed in my mind. I couldn’t control it. I started vomiting violently. Mom rushed over, patting my back, asking worriedly, “Baby, do we need to go to the hospital?” This seemed normal, but it was anything but. Mom was never this caring before. I looked at Dad in terror. “What’s wrong with you today? Acting weird all morning.” No. Dad never spoke to me like that. He usually treated me like air. He never showed concern. The dread deepened. If this was real… Then the man I called Dad had locked his daughter in the basement, slicing her flesh to make soup. I couldn’t handle it. I pinched my hand hard under the table, forcing myself to calm down. I took a deep breath. “I just didn’t sleep well. You guys eat, I’m going back to bed.” 3 As soon as I was out of sight, I ran to the basement. But when I got there, it was empty except for some old furniture. On the bed where my sister lay last night, there was a teddy bear. It was a birthday gift she gave me when I turned 18. No sister. No red bandages. It was a dream. I leaned against the wardrobe, gasping for air. But it felt so real. Then I saw something in the corner of the wardrobe. A button. From my pajamas. I was hiding here last night. “Jane, what are you doing here?” I spun around. Dad was standing behind me. Still wearing those gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze sharp, piercing right through me. I suppressed my panic and picked up the bear. “I missed sis, so I came to find the bear she gave me.” I hoped he bought it. Dad stared at me like a cold-blooded snake flicking its tongue, examining my face inch by inch. After a long pause, he said, “Take your things and go. Don’t come down here again.” I hugged the bear and walked out, pretending to be happy but complaining, “Sis is so heartless. She hasn’t called once since she left.” Dad followed me at a distance. I felt his eyes burning into the back of my head. He said calmly, “Your sister just moved. She’s busy. Don’t bother her with calls.” Right! I can call her. She topped up my phone card with $100 before she left. I never used it. The idea grew in my mind. Back in my room with the door locked, I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “We’re sorry, your service has been suspended due to insufficient funds.” I froze. I never used this card. How could it be out of money? Panic set in. The Wi-Fi was disconnected. No signal on my phone. I couldn’t contact my brother-in-law. I couldn’t call for help. 4 From that morning on, I felt weak and listless every day. And every day, Mom brought me meat soup without fail. Looking at the meat slices, thinking they might be my sister, I felt sick. I didn’t want to drink it. But I couldn’t control myself. I heard Mom say, “Drink another sip,” and my body obeyed. I felt possessed. When I finished the last drop, Mom smiled satisfied. She put down the bowl and said I deserved a reward. Then she helped me to the basement. My sister was there again. Still on that bed, still covered in blood. More bandages this time. Mom sat me on a stool near the bed. She slowly unwrapped the bandages. My sister’s body was a mess of raw flesh. Mom found a relatively smooth patch and raised the knife. She muttered, “Baby doesn’t like soup? How about sashimi?” “This big fish was a gift from your dad’s friend. Very fresh.” “Baby will love it.” Sister’s face was bandaged, but her eyes screamed agony. “Here, baby. Your favorite sashimi.” Mom held a slice of bloody meat. My sister’s meat. She fed it to me. I watched Mom carve it from my sister’s body. And now I was eating it. My sister looked at me with disbelief, anger, and finally, despair. I screamed internally: No! That’s my sister! I can’t eat her! But no one could hear me.

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When my parents said they were going to adopt Luke, I packed my bags and moved out without hesitation. “I’ve made space for him. From now on, he’s your real son. Catch you later.” As the disposable male side character in a story where everyone loves the main character, I’ve decided to slack off in this life. Luke wants to steal my parents? Let him have them. Steal my sister? Take her. Steal my childhood sweetheart? Free gift. Oh boy, now they’re all dumbfounded. 1 On the day Luke married my childhood sweetheart, I died. My soul floated in mid-air, watching their wedding. The reception was held at a five-star hotel, luxurious and dreamy. I have to say, my parents really spared no expense for her. In a joyful atmosphere, I saw my biological parents and sister going up on stage one by one, giving warm and touching blessings to the newlyweds. They chatted, took photos, and toasted together… Until my sister, Grace, received a call from the police station. Two minutes later, she said “I know” expressionlessly and hung up. “Sis, who was that?” Luke, dressed in a well-tailored black haute couture suit, looked radiant. “No one.” Grace shook her head and patted his shoulder affectionately. To avoid ruining Luke’s mood, she even hid the news of my death from him. Actually, this was completely unnecessary. Because before I died, Luke was on the phone with me. It was he who signaled his crazy stalker to stab me to death. How could this scumbag not know I was already dead? Luke looked up at Grace: “Thank you, Sis. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for everything you’ve done for me. Coming to the Gu family and meeting you is the luckiest thing in my life.” F*ck! Even as a ghost, I couldn’t help cursing. Luke was always good at saying these cheesy and useless pleasantries. It costs nothing anyway, and it can coax these idiots into being loyal to him, so why not? Grace was indeed moved to tears, hugging him with relief: “Don’t mention it, Luke. You deserve everything.” The two smiled knowingly. I was so angry I couldn’t stand it anymore. Just as I rushed over to kick Luke hard, the scene before my eyes suddenly changed, constantly switching like a movie being fast-forwarded. After a bout of dizziness, I was reborn. 2 I was reborn at sixteen, the day my family moved into the river view villa. Luke was the son of my dad’s best friend. His biological parents died in a car accident. Because no one was willing to adopt him, he lived in a local orphanage for a few years before being found by my dad. He had just arrived at our house six months ago. With a pitiful background and a docile personality, coupled with severe malnutrition making him incredibly thin, my dad’s heart ached for him. In fact, it wasn’t just my dad; my mom and sister felt the same. In just six months, reluctant to let Luke live in the attic forever, my parents actually sold our old house and bought a river view villa for his sake. And I was reborn at this moment. My dad’s excited voice rang in my ears: “Alright, kids, go pick your own rooms. Except for the master bedroom, anything goes.” I remembered. On the day we moved into the new house, our parents let us choose our rooms. Luke and I both had our eyes on the south-facing room on the second floor. Not only did it have a luxurious bathtub, but it also had huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sparkling river. Thinking of this, I decisively walked up to the second floor. “I want this one.” After I said this to my dad, Luke walked in too. His eyes lit up instantly: “This room has such a great view.” “Dad, can I live here?” My dad paused. I had anticipated Luke’s reaction and said coolly: “Are you deaf? I said I want this one.” Hearing my blunt retort, Luke immediately put on a flustered expression: “Sorry, Cole, I really didn’t hear you.” “If you like this one, you can have it. Actually, I can live anywhere. Compared to my room in the orphanage, this place is heaven.” “Mom and Dad are so good to me, I’m really afraid I won’t be able to repay you in the future.” Here comes the green tea bitch act again. Doesn’t he feel cringy saying this stuff as a grown man? It sounded fake as hell, yet some people were incredibly moved. “Cole, how about… you let Luke have this room and you live downstairs?” My dad hesitated and said to me. My mom also chimed in: “Yeah, son, the rooms upstairs and downstairs aren’t that different. Why not let Luke have this one?” Identical plot, identical words. Except unlike my shock and disbelief in my previous life, this time my heart was calm as still water. “Dad, Mom, get it straight. I’m your biological son.” They looked at each other. Dad continued: “Cole, your mom and I have decided to formally adopt Luke. From today on, you are both my sons.” Luke looked incredulous: “Dad, Mom, are you really willing to adopt me?” Grace was also surprised and delighted: “You’re going to adopt Luke?” Mom looked at him lovingly and nodded affirmatively: “Yes, Luke, welcome to officially becoming a member of our family.” Luke’s eyes suddenly turned red, his voice choking: “Mom, thank you. And Dad, I don’t know what to say, but I really love you guys so much.” “Bleugh…” I couldn’t help but dry heave. Because the sound was particularly loud, everyone looked at me. Grace frowned, looking especially displeased: “Cole, what are you doing?” “Sorry.” I waved my hand apologetically, “Might have eaten sh*t this morning, feel like vomiting.” Everyone’s expression was a bit indescribable. Luke was halfway through his emotional speech when I killed the mood. He looked weird. “Since you’re going to adopt him, I’ll move out. I don’t want this room anymore.” “I’ve made space for him. From now on, he’s your real son, fully responsible for your retirement. Catch you later.” After saying that, I turned to leave. “Cole.” My dad shouted angrily, “What are you crazy about?” Me crazy? I just don’t want to be cannon fodder anymore. I don’t want to end up betrayed by everyone and dying miserably on the street again in this life. “Dad, I’m serious. It’s either Luke or me. You and Mom decide.” “Cole, how did Luke offend you? Why have you become so selfish?” My mom also pulled a long face and scolded. With my “help,” Luke’s emotions returned. His eyes reddened, looking aggrieved: “Mom, Dad, don’t fight. I’m not worth it.” “Enough, Cole.” Grace stood in front of Luke without hesitation, glaring at me: “Apologize to Luke, right now.” Apologize my ass. I rolled my eyes. As expected of the male lead in this “Real and Fake Young Master” story, with just one sentence, my sister became his lackey. No wonder I was no match for him in my previous life. In this life, I quit. So what if I’m cannon fodder? Can’t I go on strike? Can’t I stay away from this family? Can’t I go find my own happiness? If I’m not welcome here, I’ll go somewhere else. “Bye, Sis. You can apologize yourself, I’m not playing along.” Seeing I was serious, my dad frowned: “Cole, you’re still a minor. We have custody of you.” True, I wasn’t an adult yet. If I were, the first thing I’d do would be to move my household registration out. Too lazy to talk nonsense with them. “I can stay, but first, I don’t agree with you adopting Luke. He can only stay temporarily.” “Second, I must have this room. Non-negotiable.” My dad didn’t speak, just looked at me quietly. After a long while, he said calmly: “Your mom and I have made up our minds about adopting Luke. It won’t change.” “As for the room, Cole, you already have enough. Why must you fight with Luke?” 3 Even though I expected the result, my heart still ached. What did I have? I used to have loving biological parents and a sister. But now they’re gone, stolen by Luke. If I don’t withdraw now, I’ll end up with the same fate as my previous life. Watching helplessly as Luke conquers my parents, sister, and childhood sweetheart. The day the novel has a Happy Ending is the day I die on the street. I sighed: “Then there’s nothing to talk about. Sorry, Dad, you abandoned me first. My life has nothing to do with you anymore.” My dad finally got angry, his voice stern: “Cole, are you deaf or stupid? If you walk out this door today, don’t ever come back.” “Son, apologize to your dad quickly, or I can’t help you either.” Mom looked at me with a dark face. Luke, originally protected behind Grace, looked over upon hearing this. His eyes were calm and composed, completely devoid of the grievance and pitifulness from just now. In my previous life, I often saw that expression on his face. When I argued for a whole day but still didn’t win this room, he looked at me calmly like that. So much so that I still remember Luke’s matter-of-fact expression when he moved into this room. “Thank you, Mom and Dad. I really like this room.” Although his mouth was saying thanks, I could clearly hear the triumph in his tone. It was the joy and triumph after winning a battle. Mom and Dad took him and Grace on a trip but didn’t take me. After they came back, Luke explained to me “kindly”: “Cole, Mom and Dad didn’t take you because they were afraid of delaying your English exam next week. Don’t be mad.” I wasn’t the only one taking exams; he and Grace had exams too. Just because they could only book four tickets, my biological parents chose to take the adopted son on a trip instead of me. Afterwards, I asked my mom why they did that. “Son, haven’t you been to Beihai already? Luke has never traveled. Don’t you think he’s pitiful?” This sentence again. What does Luke being pitiful have to do with me? I didn’t make him an orphan. “What about Grace? She’s been there too.” Mom was speechless for a moment and could only compromise: “How about Mom and Dad make it up to you next time we travel?” I was quite naive then, actually believing her nonsense. How could there be parents in the world who love an adopted son more than their own flesh and blood? But facts proved. There are. And I met them. Mom and Dad started forgetting me frequently. They took Grace and Luke to the movies, and I only found out when they came back at night. The family of four drove to the countryside for a picnic, and I only heard them mention it a few weeks later. Luke became better and better at pleasing Mom and Dad. Mentioned an iPad today, Dad bought it for him tomorrow. Said a new phone model was released in the morning, Mom gave it to him as a gift in the evening. His status in Mom and Dad’s hearts had long surpassed mine, and his pocket money was much more than mine. Grace was even worse, becoming a straight-up “brother-con.” Of course, the brother she spoiled wasn’t me. She introduced Luke to her best friends. Treating Luke and his bros to BBQ. Spending money to take him to see his favorite basketball star’s game. Because Luke didn’t like dogs, she even gave away the puppy I had raised for years without saying a word. I went to argue with her in a rage, and my good sister just said lightly: “What’s the point of keeping that beast? It almost bit Luke last time. Should’ve thrown it away long ago.” In fact, my puppy was always well-behaved. If others didn’t provoke it, it wouldn’t attack anyone. I hated Luke more and more, while other family members liked him more and more. In my previous life, I never understood why it was like this. It wasn’t until I died that I figured it out. Turns out Luke is the male lead in a “Real and Fake Young Master” novel. Although I was born to my biological parents, I was the authentic cannon fodder male side character. Fifteen years of smooth sailing were all paving the way for his appearance. In this life, I absolutely won’t endure it anymore. Worst case scenario is death. I want to see if this male lead will still have a Happy Ending if I don’t follow the script. “Apologizing is impossible. I will never apologize in this life. Dad, Mom, take care.” 4 Half a month later, I moved into the most prestigious wealthy district in City A—Number One Mansion. In this place where the average housing price is $6,000 per square foot, I learned what “an inch of land, an inch of gold” means. A woman in an elegant white long dress walked towards me with a smile. “Cole.” “Auntie Lu.” I greeted her politely. “Did you bring all your luggage? Just this much?” “That’s all. I didn’t have much stuff to begin with.” “Okay, I’ll have Chloe take you to your room on the third floor.” “Thank you, Auntie Lu.” Chloe Lu is the same age as me, in third year of middle school this year. She has bright eyes and white teeth, charming and touching, but her personality is too cold. She’s the standard rich young lady type, radiating an aura that says “Strangers Keep Away.” Her sister, Sophia Lu, is more approachable. Both sisters have ceiling-level beauty, the kind ordinary people can’t reach. No wonder rich people like to marry stars; at least the next generation’s looks are guaranteed. After all, Mrs. Lu won the beauty pageant championship back in the day with her earth-shattering beauty. The elevator arrived at the third floor. Opening the door. Even though I was mentally prepared, I was still shocked by the scene before me. This room was literally big enough for me to jog in. Luxurious crystal chandelier, elegant vintage European-style bed. Through the glass, the entire city’s night view could be seen. Truly a mansion worth $100 million. I looked up at Chloe: “Thank you, Second Miss.” She nodded. Perhaps feeling she was too cold, she added faintly: “You’re welcome.” After Chloe left, I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. It was quiet all around. In the distance, neon lights flickered, thousands of lights, beautiful beyond words. I didn’t expect our City A to have such a quiet and tranquil place. The scenery here is much better than our river view villa. I have to sigh, the life of the rich is truly unpretentious.

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Three years after being cast out of the Hawke family, Eleanor Hawke walked into my shop for a pair of custom shoes. As it happened, I was the one assigned to her. I knelt reflexively, ready to help her with her shoes, but she stopped me, her hand on my arm. “Julian,” she said, her voice laced with surprise. “What are you doing working a job like this?” It seemed she never imagined that her once-pampered heir would now be serving others with such practiced humility. I used her grip to help myself up, and in the same smooth motion, talked her into putting $200,000 on a store card. She did it without hesitation. As she was leaving, she asked, a little too carefully, “Julian, do you still hate me?” I gave her a perfect, professional smile and saw her out the door. The moment she was gone, I asked my manager for a transfer to another branch. I didn’t hate her anymore. But I never wanted anything to do with the Hawke family again. 1 It was pouring rain when I got off work. Eleanor’s Maybach was parked by the curb, its hazard lights blinking. She rolled down the window and called out to me. “Julian, let me give you a ride home.” I glanced at the rideshare app on my phone. The wait was endless. I wisely accepted her offer. Life has taught me one crucial lesson: never pass up an opportunity for comfort. Otherwise, your entire existence becomes a trial. The driver was still Arthur. He grinned when he saw me. “Young Master Julian, you look different.” “More grounded,” he continued. “A bit like your father.” “Arthur, just drive,” Eleanor said sharply from the back. My father’s death was a wound that never healed for any of us. The slightest mention was enough to make it ache. A soft classical piece began to play through the car’s speakers. Eleanor had looked like she wanted to say something, but the mention of my father had silenced her. She leaned back against the leather, her expression weary and dark. I took a pause in the music to speak. “Arthur, you can just call me Julian. I haven’t been the ‘Young Master’ of the Hawke family for a long time.” Arthur just kept smiling, unfazed by Eleanor’s mood. “It’s just a title, son. A habit of many years.” 2 Hearing Arthur’s warm, steady voice, I couldn’t help but smile. When I was fourteen, at the peak of my rebellious phase, Eleanor brought home a boy she was sponsoring. His name was originally Caleb, but after learning he was an orphan, Eleanor had him take our name. She thought his given name was common, so she renamed him Caleb Hawke. I was Julian Hawke, he was Caleb Hawke. But everyone always said how polite and thoughtful Caleb was, how it was no wonder Eleanor doted on him. As for me, I was arrogant and spoiled, not nearly as composed as the boy from the mountains. A rebellious teenager has his pride. I wouldn’t let him outshine me. I berated every gossiping servant in the house until I was exhausted. I sat down to catch my breath, only to see Eleanor standing around the corner, her eyes filled with disgust. And next to her stood Caleb, dressed in the latest designer clothes, looking smug. I knew it was his doing. Ever since he arrived, everything I did was twisted to make me look like a bully. I had been friendly to him at first, but he would always act hesitant and wounded. Within days, rumors were flying that the Hawke heir looked down on commoners. I swore to Eleanor, argued, collapsed into her arms in a desperate hug, and pleaded, “Mom, why don’t you believe me?” She just sighed. “Julian, when will you ever grow up?” She always thought I was a lost cause. She seemed to forget that she once promised, “No matter what Julian does, Mommy will always have your back.” I wanted to rip the mask off Caleb’s face and show her the ugliness underneath. But what I said was, “What gives you the right to wear something like that?” The clothes were from a new collection. He couldn’t have worn them without her permission. Her favoritism had been there all along. I was just too stupid to see it, too desperate to win a game that was already lost. The day after that, Caleb’s name was legally changed. He became the sole heir of the Hawke family. And I became a complete joke. 3 Only two people ever stood by my side: my father and Arthur. My father was always busy with work and carried a deep guilt towards my mother. Even when he knew I was being wronged, his only solution was to give me more money. This only made Eleanor despise me more, believing I was a greedy manipulator. Arthur was originally my father’s driver. After hearing that Caleb was being “bullied,” Eleanor assigned Arthur to drive him, a clear message that the entire household stood behind Caleb. But no matter how Caleb tried to win him over, Arthur remained unmoved, never saying more than was necessary. With me, however, he was different. “Young Master,” he’d say, “it’s getting cold. Make sure you wear a coat.” When he saw me withdrawn and miserable, he’d try to comfort me. “She’s your mother, son. Deep down, she still loves you.” Did she? I had stopped believing that a long time ago. But I was still grateful for his kindness. A dark cloud of scorn hung over me, and Arthur was the only one who ever tried to let a little light through. The car slowed. I knew we were close to my place. “Arthur, you can just stop here. The alley ahead is a nightmare to get in and out of.” Eleanor seemed to wake from a trance, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the run-down neighborhood. “Julian… you live here?” I just smiled and gave a polite farewell. “Thank you for the ride, Mrs. Hawke. I won’t take up any more of your time.” Pain flickered in her eyes. “Do you have to speak to me like that?” I simply bowed my head. Then I opened my umbrella and walked alone into the heavy curtain of rain. 4 When I got home, I saw a new friend request on my phone. The name was simply “[Mom]”. My manager had told me Mrs. Hawke had specifically asked for my contact information. She’d praised my service and added two million dollars to her store card. “Keep this client happy, Julian,” he’d said, “and you’ll be our top salesman for the year.” I hesitated, but the thought of Leo’s medical bills made me accept. “Thank you for your support, Mrs. Hawke 🙂 :)” I typed. The status indicator showed she was typing for a long time. I waited, wondering what she could possibly be writing. Eventually, I gave up and went to take a shower. When I came back, I saw a string of retracted messages. Only one remained. “Your father’s memorial is the day after tomorrow. Will you come?” The message triggered a night of relentless nightmares, replaying the events that had destroyed my life. Caleb had been suddenly diagnosed with leukemia. He needed a bone marrow transplant, and I was the only match. But my own health was poor at the time, and I was undergoing treatment. I refused. I was ready to give up everything, to leave the Hawke family and never look back. The night before I was set to leave, Eleanor sat me down for a talk. She reminisced about my childhood. How I was a messy little boy, and she had dreamed of raising a perfect prince. How for her birthday, I had dressed up in a flamboyant suit to make her happy, only to be scolded for being too ostentatious. How I’d cried in the middle of the night, telling her, “I just wanted to make you happy, Mommy.” How in elementary school, I’d overheard other parents mocking her for being a bad mother because of my poor grades, and I’d studied relentlessly to get a perfect score, losing so much weight in the process that my chin was sharp against her shoulder. “It hurts my shoulder,” she’d said, “but it hurts my heart more.” She looked at me with a misty, nostalgic gaze. “Julian, do you still love your mother like you did when you were a little boy?” “Of course,” I’d answered. “But Mom… do you still love me?” “…Of course.” If only I had seen the flicker of evasion in her eyes through the dim light. If only I hadn’t taken that glass of water she’d drugged. I collapsed into her arms. I remember her soft fingers on my cheek, gently wiping away a tear. But when I woke up, it was to an ice-cold reality. My own mother had drugged me so they could take my bone marrow for Caleb. The procedure left me bedridden and weak for months. 5 Lying alone in that sterile hospital room, I had only one thought: revenge. To hell with her. From that day on, she was no longer my mother. She was just… that woman. I stormed back to the Hawke estate, weak and shivering in a thin hospital gown. They were celebrating Caleb’s birthday. I took a baseball bat and demolished the entire ground floor of the mansion. If security hadn’t stopped me, I would have caved their heads in. I screamed until my throat was raw, the rage in my eyes making that woman shrink back in fear, right into Caleb’s waiting arms. Their solution was to have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. If my father hadn’t returned when he did, I would have ended up either a mindless vegetable or a corpse. He returned with the truth. The leukemia, the transplant—it was all a lie, a scheme cooked up by Caleb. His real target was my fiancée. My engagement to Isabella Vance had been arranged since we were children. The Vance family’s new energy enterprise had made them far more powerful than the Hawkes. No matter how hard that woman tried to push Caleb into high society, she could never find him a better match. So, Caleb had been secretly corresponding with Isabella for months. And I had worked tirelessly to earn the approval of Isabella’s parents, finally securing my place in their family. 6 Now, with the truth revealed, that woman just held Caleb and wept. “In that case,” she declared, “Caleb should marry Isabella.” “What else can we do? We can’t lose our connection to the Vance family.” “As for Julian…” She glanced at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, before looking away. “You can have the villa in Northwood. You can move there today.” I had grown up in Southwood. She was banishing me to the other side of the city. I didn’t want to stay in that house a moment longer, but I would not let them get away with this so easily. My father flew into a rage, but she just sobbed. “What was I supposed to do? I finally have a son who loves me. Are you asking me to lose him too? It’s because you were never here! I had to raise him alone!” “If I can only have one son,” she screamed, “it will be Caleb! If you make him leave, I’ll go with him.” In the end, my father gave in. The day I left, he said, “Wait for your mother to come to her senses. Don’t hate her.” He didn’t understand. I hated him too. For his weakness. I left without saying goodbye. I became a snake, coiled in the darkness, waiting. I watched as Caleb and Isabella got married. I watched that woman beam with joy at the wedding. I heard that Isabella had bought Caleb a yacht, and they threw extravagant parties. The media called Caleb a golden boy, the savior of the Hawke-Vance alliance. One day, my father called me. “Isabella is pregnant. The morning sickness is hitting her hard.” Then, after a pause, “Julian, it’s been a while. Are you feeling better?” I heard myself answer, my voice wooden. “No. The doctors say the damage is permanent.” Everything after that happened in slow motion. I drove to the hospital. I saw that woman helping Isabella out of a car, laughing and chatting. I saw my father and Caleb walking side-by-side, a perfect picture of father and son. I pressed my foot on the accelerator. Faster. Faster. I was going to kill him at the peak of his happiness. I was innocent. Why did he deserve a life of joy? Their faces turned to masks of horror. My father shoved Caleb out of the way. He hit the windshield, blood blooming across the spiderweb of cracks before he fell away. I slammed on the brakes, my chest colliding with the steering wheel, a tearing pain ripping through me. The car door was wrenched open. I was dragged out. That woman beat me over the head with her handbag. Something sharp cut my face. A flurry of slaps. The police came. They took me away. My father’s last words were: “Don’t blame Julian.” But that woman and the Vance family hired the best lawyers. They pushed for the maximum sentence. The day I was sent to prison, they told me Isabella had lost the baby due to the shock. I smiled. “You monster,” they screamed. “How can you still smile?”

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I’m a mukbang streamer, but I never purge. One day, someone spammed 100 “Carnival” gifts during my stream. All they wanted was to watch me eat in person, just once. When I arrived, I found out it wasn’t just her. There was also a strikingly handsome guy with pale skin and a gaunt frame. The elegant lady pulled out a thick envelope. “If you can get him to take even one bite, this ten thousand dollars is yours.” Turns out, severe anorexia is a real thing? I methodically polished off the entire table of food. Finally, I licked my lips and looked pitifully at the steak in front of him. “I… I’m still hungry. If you’re not going to eat that, can I have it…?” His pupils dilated in shock, and his slender, bony hand slammed down on the plate. “This is mine!” My ex-boyfriend told everyone I ate like a pig. So, I decided to become a mukbang streamer. Suddenly, someone dropped 100 “Carnival” gifts in my chat. All for the chance to watch me eat a meal live. “You really eat with such gusto, can you truly eat anything?” She watched wide-eyed as I demolished a whole table of delicacies. Pointing to the handsome guy next to her, she slapped down a red envelope. “If you can get him to eat a single bite, this ten thousand is yours.” Wait, people who don’t like food exist? Not in my worldview. I licked my lips and stared longingly at the steak in front of him. “I… um… if you’re not gonna eat that, can I have it…?” His pupils shook, and his elegant hand immediately guarded the plate. 1 He even picked up the bowl and had a few sips of mushroom soup. The lady next to him looked like she was about to cry tears of joy. But I just stared at his unfinished bowl. “Um, are you done with that? Can I drink it?” He looked at the table, wiped clean of food. Then he silently scooted his chair away from me. The elegant lady came to my rescue, “Dodo, are you still hungry?” I scratched my head, nodding sheepishly. “The portions here are kinda small, just a little bit on each plate.” She glanced at the dozen empty plates on the table and silently ordered another round. My eyes lit up. This place was amazing, the mushroom soup was to die for. Soon enough, I finished that round too. Seeing me stare hungrily at his bowl again, the handsome guy couldn’t help but take a few more sips. I wiped my mouth and started on the fruit platter. Chase finally couldn’t hold back, “You can still eat fruit?” I looked at him curiously. “Fruit is delicious, why wouldn’t I be able to eat it?” He reached out, pinched a slice of melon, and put it in his mouth. A flash of pain crossed my eyes. I unconsciously pulled the fruit platter closer to myself. The elegant lady’s eyes were shining with excitement. She grabbed my hand. “Dodo, please, I’m begging you. Eat with my son every day.” “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll cover all the food costs. You just need to show up.” “Ten thousand… is ten thousand a month okay?” Turns out the handsome guy had anorexia, so severe he needed IV drips. I looked at her in surprise. A job this good exists? Seeing I didn’t respond, she added, “Is it too little? Twenty thousand.” Chase suddenly scoffed. “Mom, let’s go. If we don’t leave, she won’t have anywhere to purge!” I stared at him blankly. You can insult my character. But you cannot insult my appetite. If it weren’t for four eyes watching me, making me a little shy… I could have eaten another table full. Food is precious; I never waste a crumb. 2 Don’t let my status as a humble little mukbang streamer fool you. I never, ever purge. “EatMoreDodo” is my handle. My real name is Bella Tang. But I’ve been hungry since I was a baby. Naming is serious business, folks. It wasn’t that my family was poor. Legend has it, I cried day and night during my first month. My mom almost lost her mind. Until my grandma came to visit and mixed a giant bottle of formula. I drank every drop and finally stopped crying. My mom was baffled. My intake was ten times the recommended amount. Basically, I had been starving for a whole month. They say my first words were “Eat food.” My mom always says… There was nothing in the house I hadn’t gnawed on, except the toilet. Everyone else used bowls. I used a pot. Because running back and forth to refill a bowl was too tiring. All the buffet restaurants in my hometown had my photo up in the staff room. “If she comes, pay her to go to the competitor across the street!” My parents even took me to the hospital, but the doctor said I was healthy. He said some people are just born with a big appetite and a strong stomach. During puberty. I tried to eat tiny portions like the other girls. But by the afternoon, I was dizzy and seeing stars. By the next meal, I couldn’t fake it anymore. The bowls I stacked up were half a meter high. My classmates were stunned by my appetite. They said I was born to be a mukbang streamer. Prophecy fulfilled. My mom always worried my salary wouldn’t cover my food bill. It covers it just fine. After all, eating is my job. Doesn’t that count as free meals? After a rough job hunt post-graduation, I just started livestreaming my daily meals. Somehow, people started treating me like a mukbang star. In reality, I was just eating my normal amount. Although my viewer count isn’t as high as the big streamers, it’s steady. Fans say they’ve never seen a streamer like me who goes live three times a day. More punctual than an alarm clock. And I chew slowly, making it pleasant to watch. They say watching me eat makes the food look delicious! Naturally. I eat on time, sleep early, wake up early, am not picky, and enjoy everything. Lots of people treat me as their virtual meal buddy. I picked up the red envelope from Chase’s mom, Auntie Sarah. “Thanks for today, Auntie! I’m gonna go digest now!” Her eyes lit up with curiosity, “Digest?” Chase looked like he expected this, “Eating so much and staying thin, heh heh.” I patted him. “You eat too little, nothing in your stomach. Otherwise, we could go together.” Auntie Sarah looked excited. “Then take me with you! Is this an industry secret I’m allowed to see?” I was confused. Do rich people not know how to digest food? 3 I led them on a walk along the road. Clapping my hands front and back as we walked. “A hundred steps after a meal, live to ninety-nine, hey!” Then raising arms up and down, crossing to pat shoulders. “Rotate and twist the universe, boost yang and strengthen the body!” Then flicking fingers with both hands. “Flick flick hands, worries go away, hey!” Half an hour later, I squinted comfortably. Auntie Sarah’s pupils were trembling. “This… this is what you call digestion?” Chase looked like he’d seen a ghost, lips pressed tight, speechless. I nodded. “You guys really don’t know how to digest after a meal?” “I do this post-meal walking exercise every day.” Auntie Sarah looked like she was about to jump. She slammed a card into my hand. “Okay, okay, okay! Here’s twenty thousand. Just eat with him for a month first.” “I’ll also arrange a chef to come over. He can cook whatever you want.” Look at this. I need to brag to my mom. People who know how to eat always have good luck! Twenty thousand a month! Auntie Sarah insisted on driving me home. The next day, she delivered Chase to the apartment across the hall. “I thought about it. Going to my place might make you uncomfortable, so sending him here is more convenient.” “His nickname is Biggy. He’s a year younger than you.” She left without looking back after saying that. Only then did I learn they bought the apartment across the hall overnight. Rich people really do whatever they want… When will I become one of the rich people in this world?! I looked at Chase, whose legs were thin as ostrich legs. “Biggy?” He slammed the door shut. Then opened it a crack, speaking arrogantly. “My name is Chase.” Oh well, names are important! Chase, like chasing food, but he doesn’t eat! “Okay, Biggy!” 4 Early the next morning, I prepared breakfast. Then I knocked on Chase’s door. He saw my table full of food. Each dish on a colorful plate. His handsome face was just like my plates. What’s the word? Feast for the eyes. I had Chase sit at the other end of the long table. Then I turned on the phone on the stand to start the stream. My fans know my streams are quiet. Just a few sentences. “Hi everyone, breakfast time! Here’s today’s deliciousness.” “Dodo is gonna start eating!” Then I focused on enjoying the food. First, a bite of yam and hawthorn jujube cake. Sweet and sour, really appetizing. Chase sat opposite me. As I chewed and chewed… He couldn’t help but pick up a piece of cake too. Then he drank some porridge, mimicking my movements like a robot. I couldn’t help sharing. “Biggy, I pickled these veggies myself. They smell amazing!” Comments started floating across the screen. “Streamer is eating breakfast with someone today? What about last night??” “Boo hoo, my little cabbage has a pig.” “Who is it? Which pig dares to root up my soft and sticky streamer!” I laughed and explained. “My little brother came to visit. I’ll be eating with him lately. He won’t be on camera, stream content won’t change!” “So it’s a little brother. Streamer is so cute, brother must be… hehehe, let the sisters see.” “I just like watching the streamer, stop interrupting upstairs.” “Little brother, then it’s fine. As long as it’s not a pig rooting the cabbage.” “Too bad my son is only in first grade. Streamer, grow up slower.” I’m often amused by the comments. When I finished everything, I turned off the stream. “Done eating, bye bye, see you at lunch!” While I was cleaning up the plates, Chase stood in front of me, squinting, voice rising. “Little brother?” Despite being thin, he had a large frame and broad shoulders, blocking the kitchen doorway. “Biggy brother, what’s up?” I pushed him away. As expected, no pecs. Bad review. “You…” He moved away from the door, changing the subject. “Others stream all day and sell products. Do you earn enough to feed yourself?” I showed him my phone screen with the viewer count. Thousands of people watch me eat every day now. Although I never promote products or make big money. Breaking even is no problem. He knows how to hurt people. I gave him a gloomy look. He huffed lightly and lifted his chin, saying nothing more. I started my post-meal exercises. “Biggy, join in.” I went over to teach him the moves. His fingers were so long and slender, like a hand model. I couldn’t help but pinch them! He shrank back slightly, ears turning suspiciously red. “You… what are you doing?” “Teaching you. You have to do this. Hit the tiger’s mouth points together. Good for the spleen and stomach.” He complained verbally. But under my “one, two, three, four” rhythm, his hands moved too. Like a ninety-year-old lady dancing tango in a wheelchair—ten beats slow! Just then, a noise came from the door. The door opened with a roar. A bouquet of roses was smashed onto the floor.

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The charity student my fiancé was sponsoring had her eyes on the prize: him. The girl slammed her Columbia University acceptance letter and a box of ultra-thin condoms onto Julian’s desk simultaneously. She looked shy but acted bold. “You said if I got into the Ivy League, you’d grant me a wish… I only want you.” I was standing outside the door, trembling with rage. I was about to burst in and slap the entitlement out of her. Suddenly, floating text scrolled across my vision. [Let the side character slap her. It just makes the Male Lead feel sorry for the Heroine.] [The Male Lead is already planning to give the Heroine a title. One slap from the fiancée, and he’ll break the engagement for sure.] [Wait for the angry fiancée to storm off, then the Male Lead will lift the crying Heroine onto the desk… hehe… possessive daddy vibes. One box won’t be enough.] It hit me. I was just a cannon fodder side character in a CEO romance novel. I paused for two seconds. Then, I thoughtfully closed the door for them, opened the interior surveillance app on my phone, and hit Record. 1 Through the crack in the heavy oak doors of the CEO’s office, I could see everything. The girl was wearing a pleated skirt and a hoodie, her hair tied up in a high ponytail. She looked fresh-faced and innocent. The way she slapped that acceptance letter down screamed youthful arrogance. “Julian, you promised me a reward.” “You…” Julian leaned forward, tapping her forehead playfully. “The letter just arrived and you’re already here to collect? Do you think I’d shortchange you?” Mia put her hands on her hips, a mix of cunning and nervousness in her eyes. “I’m just afraid you can’t afford what I want.” Julian slowly rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes held the arrogance of a man on top of the world. “Mia, don’t underestimate my bank account. If you asked for the stars, I’d find a way to buy them.” “I want you!” Mia suddenly pulled out a small box. She spoke fast, terrified he’d say no. “Before finals, you said you’d buy me a condo or a car. I don’t care about those. From the beginning, the only thing I’ve wanted is you.” I clutched the doorframe, my heels wobbling. I knew the student Julian sponsored had a crush on him, but I didn’t expect her to be this brazen. Inside, Julian stared at the box labeled “Ultra Thin.” His gaze darkened. “…You know I have a fiancée, right?” I let out a small breath. Julian and I had been childhood sweethearts. We clawed our way up from rock bottom together. When we got engaged last year, this usually reserved man professed his love to the media. He never took off his engagement ring. He knew boundaries. “So what?” Mia pouted, unconvinced. “You aren’t married yet. I still have a chance.” Julian said coolly, “Vanessa and I plan to get our marriage license by the end of the year.” “I can be your mistress,” Mia blurted out. Her eyes turned red, tears welling up until her voice cracked. “Julian, don’t bully me just because I love you… it’s too cruel.” My blood boiled. I’ve seen plenty of ungrateful people, but someone actively trying to wreck a home while taking the homeowner’s money? She was a first. I cracked my knuckles, ready to go in there and teach her a lesson in reality. But the air in front of me shimmered with comments again. [Just let the fiancée hit her. See if the Male Lead’s heart breaks for her.] [Lol, the only reason the Male Lead brought up the fiancée was to test the Heroine’s feelings. The fiancée actually thinks he cares about her.] [The Male Lead is looking for an excuse. One slap, and the engagement is toast.] What? Julian would leave me for a charity case? You have to be joking. But then I saw it. My fiancé, the man I trusted with my life, picked up the box of condoms and chuckled. “Do you even know how to use these? And you’re trying to tempt me?” Before Mia could answer, his large hand grabbed the back of her neck, and he kissed her. 2 My scalp tingled as if it had been electrified. If the comments were real, barging in now would be suicide. So, I quietly pulled the door shut. I opened the surveillance app connected to the CEO’s office and hit record. They kissed for nearly ten minutes. When Mia finally collapsed against Julian’s chest, gasping for air, I adjusted the heavy thermos in my hand and turned the doorknob. “What are you two doing?” “V-Vanessa…” Mia whimpered, pushing Julian away and clumsily stuffing the small box into her pocket. “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault, don’t blame Julian…” Panic flashed across Julian’s face before he smoothed it over, buttoning his slightly rumpled shirt. “Why are you here?” The comments scrolled by: [I thought the side character finally grew a brain when she turned to leave, but nope.] [Hahaha, I can already picture the Male Lead impatiently telling her to get out.] [Once the fiancée gets kicked out, he’s going to lift the crying Heroine onto the desk… Hehe… one box is definitely not enough!] I was calm. Dangerously calm. Julian was soft-hearted to those who played nice, but ruthless to enemies. He held the majority of the company shares. If we broke up now, I’d get nothing. So, I pulled the lunchbox from behind my back. “You always forget to eat when you’re working. I spent all morning making this. Two dishes and a soup. Try it.” I smiled warmly, as if I hadn’t seen a thing. Julian grabbed my hand. “…Did you burn yourself?” He blew gently on my fingers, his tone reproachful but affectionate. “We have a chef at home. This isn’t something the heiress of the Lin family should be doing. Just tell the staff what you want.” “Oh, stop,” I cooed, softening my voice. “The chef’s food doesn’t taste like love. You must be starving. Eat.” I was the youngest grandchild in my family, spoiled rotten by my grandfather. I was raised to be proud and direct. Julian used to call me his “Little Princess.” When I acted spoiled, he usually couldn’t resist. He coughed lightly and turned to Mia. “You should head back. I’m going to eat with Vanessa.” Mia blinked her wet, doe-like eyes. “When will you have time for me? For the graduation gala, I want to wear the dress you picked out.” Julian’s eyes darted around. He explained to me unnaturally, “The kid did well on her SATs. Since she’s the first student our group publicly sponsored, I thought we should celebrate.” Mia’s eyes curved into crescents. “Vanessa, you have to come too. You and Julian are the two people I’m most grateful to in this world.” She was baiting me. I took her hand and patted it, my smile flawless. “Time flies. Mia, you’re such a pretty young lady now. Remember eight years ago in that remote village? Your mom was trying to sell you to a thirty-year-old bachelor. Julian said you were so dark and skinny he couldn’t even tell you were a girl.” “I insisted on saving you,” I continued. “I said you had a fire in your eyes. Look at you now. Prophecy fulfilled.” “…” Feeling I’d performed enough, I made a graceful exit. As soon as I left the office, Mia grabbed Julian’s tie and kissed him messily. “That old woman is gone. Why won’t you look at me? …An engagement isn’t a marriage. Let me compete with her fairly, okay?” She touched him somewhere, making him groan. “Mia, don’t move.” Mia’s face was flushed. “You don’t have any desire for her, do you? I saw you using my panties to relieve yourself that night.” “Admit it, Julian. You want me. Otherwise… why are you reacting like this?” 3 Julian was clearly turned on, but he pushed her away and left the room, dropping one sentence behind him. “Vanessa is your benefactor. Like she said, without her, you wouldn’t be here today. Before she finds out about your feelings… let’s stop this.” I stopped listening. I contacted a contractor. While Julian was out, I quietly installed several more hidden cameras around his private office. Over the next few days, I watched Mia relentlessly throw herself at Julian. They staged scenes of tender romance and reluctant partings daily. I didn’t even show up, yet I was the villain tearing them apart. The comments were roasting me: [What is the side character doing? She ruined the uniform play scene I was waiting for! (Crying emoji)] [The older man’s restraint vs. the younger girl’s seduction… this book would be so spicy without the fiancée.] [Don’t worry, the Heroine won’t give up on seducing Daddy. Tonight’s gala is the perfect chance.] The text hurt my eyes. It made my years of trust in Julian look like a joke. I pulled myself together and called my stylist. The gala was at a five-star hotel downtown. All of Julian’s business partners were invited. I knew exactly what this was—he was paving the way for his “little girl” before she even started college. I arrived late and saw Mia holding Julian’s arm, schmoozing with CEOs. Someone winked at Julian. “Smart, pretty, and younger than the Mrs. You’re a lucky man, Julian.” “You misunderstand,” Mia said, glancing at Julian with a mix of resentment and affection. “I think of him as an uncle. We have a purely…” “Sponsor and student relationship,” Julian finished smoothly, though I saw his hand pinch her waist behind her back. “Oh, Vanessa is here!” Mia was wearing a platinum mermaid dress, her hair pinned up elegantly. You couldn’t see a trace of the poverty she came from. She asked a waiter for three glasses of champagne and handed me the one on the far left. “I wouldn’t be here without you and Julian. A toast to you both.” I didn’t take it. Because the comments said: [To stop the fiancée from ruining the mood, the clever Heroine spiked her drink with sleeping pills. Once she passes out, they’ll lock her in a room!] [The scene where Vanessa wakes up weak in a closet, listening to the girl’s moans next door, imagining her fiancé railing Mia… I can’t wait!] “It was your own hard work.” I smiled perfunctorily. Under Mia’s panicked gaze, I snatched the glass on the right—the one meant for Julian—and downed it in one gulp. [OMG she grabbed the Male Lead’s drink! That one has drugs too!] Dammit! Why didn’t you say that sooner? [High-grade aphrodisiacs. In the original book, the Male Lead took one sip and went for three hours straight… The fiancée drank the whole thing!] I choked, coughing violently. Julian patted my back. “Slow down. What’s the rush?” I grabbed his arm tight. “The wine… there’s something in it.” Julian glanced at Mia’s pale face and chuckled. “You’re probably just tipsy. I’ll have the driver take you home.” I realized instantly: Julian was covering for her. “If you don’t give me an explanation, I’m calling the police right now.” I held up my phone, tears of anger and betrayal in my eyes. “A blood test will prove it.” 4 “Vanessa, don’t be mad. Those two glasses were… to help spice things up for you two.” “Oh?” I sneered. “So you drugged me for my own good?” Mia twisted her fingers together, finally cooking up a lie. “I heard people in the company saying Julian hasn’t been home in days. I was worried about your relationship, so I thought…” Julian hadn’t been home because he claimed he was busy. But the surveillance showed Mia with him from dawn to dusk. “Mia meant well. Go to the hospital and get your stomach pumped. Let’s drop it,” Julian said coolly. “These are important guests. Don’t make a scene.” It was absurd. “I’m the one who was drugged, and you’re forgiving her on my behalf?” Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, Julian frowned. “She’s just a kid. You’re a grown woman. Why are you holding a grudge against a child?” I literally watched you stick your tongue down that “child’s” throat. Mia shrank behind Julian, giving me a look of pure provocation. I took a deep breath. I blinked, squeezing out a tear. “But I feel so sick, Hubby. Come with me to the hospital?” The comments said the Heroine planned to bag the Male Lead tonight. I wasn’t going to let that happen. “With a drug like this, I don’t trust anyone else. I need you.” Julian hesitated, his expression softening. “Alright…” Suddenly, Mia grabbed the middle glass and downed it. “Now I’ve drunk it too.” “Vanessa, I’m punishing myself the same way. Is that enough?” Of course not. She drank the one safe glass—or maybe the one with the sleeping pill? But then, Mia collapsed into Julian’s arms like she had no bones. “Julian… the effects… I feel so hot…” “Idiot! Why did you drink it if you knew!” Julian scolded her, his voice low, but his hand firmly grasped her lower back. “Her reaction is severe. I need to take her to get treated.” In front of everyone, my suit-wearing fiancé scooped Mia up in his arms and walked away without looking back. The comments mocked me: [One is barely 18, one is pushing 28. Any idiot knows who to pick.] [The fiancée failed to block them. Look, her face is green lol.] [I wonder how the Male Lead will “treat” her. Hard to guess. (Wink)] [Do you believe they went to a hospital, or do you believe I’m the Queen of England?]

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1 My husband developed a second personality right after I got pregnant. By night, my Adrian still loved me more than life itself. But by day, his other self was devoted to his young secretary. My rival, Andrew, told me repeatedly that Adrian was faking it, but I refused to believe him. Not until I went to Adrian’s office to drop off his lunch and overheard him on the phone with his best friend. “Adrian, man, this whole split personality act… You’re playing with fire. Aren’t you worried Ella will find out? You’re gonna regret this.” Adrian just scoffed. “It’s just a bit of fun, and I’ve got it covered. Besides, ten years is a long time. A man gets bored.” He continued, his voice dripping with condescension, “Once she has the baby and I’ve had my fun, I’ll just ‘recover.’ Just keep your mouth shut.” My hand flew to my belly, a chill seeping deep into my bones. I turned on my heel and dialed Andrew’s number. “You said you’d raise my child as your own. Your proposal… I accept.” “I’ll be there in three days to get you.” … “Who’s there?” The moment I hung up, the office door flew open. “Ella? What… what are you doing here?” Adrian’s eyes darted around, a flicker of panic in their depths. He quickly composed himself, his face hardening into the cold mask of his “other” self. “I’ve told you, Autumn is the one I love. This obsession of yours is pointless.” Before, I would have seen that flicker of panic as a sign of my real husband trying to break through. Now, I saw it for what it was: a shoddy performance. “Fine,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “I get it.” I turned to leave, clutching the lunch box. “Wait!” Adrian’s hand clamped down on my arm, his face grim. “Did you hear anything just now?” The cloying scent of Autumn’s signature perfume, a scent he once told me he loathed, wafted from his suit. A wave of nausea rolled through me. I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “The man I see in the daytime only loves Autumn. What could I have possibly heard that would matter to you?” My gaze drifted to the wastebasket beside his desk. A tangle of used condom wrappers caught the light, and my blood ran cold. “It’s normal to desire the person you love,” he snapped, stepping in front of the bin to block my view. “Don’t start making a scene.” Even in our most passionate moments, he had never been this… prolific. The blisters on my hand, earned from cooking for him, suddenly burned with a searing pain. The lunch box, filled with the meal I’d spent all morning carefully preparing, slipped from my grasp and crashed to the floor. The food scattered across the expensive rug. A muscle twitched in Adrian’s jaw. “Didn’t I tell you Autumn doesn’t like red meat?” he seethed. “If you can’t even do this right, maybe we should just get a divorce!” To keep his “daytime self” from divorcing me, I’d signed every humiliating contract he’d put in front of me. Autumn has a stressful job, so you will cook her a nutritious meal every day. Autumn’s commute is tiring, so you will give her our apartment and move to the suburbs. Autumn is sensitive, so you will tell everyone we are already divorced. … I lifted my chin, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. “Eat it or don’t. I’m done!” I was done with him, too. The words had barely left my mouth when a sharp, twisting pain shot through my abdomen. My face went pale, and I stumbled toward the door, needing to get away. Just then, the door swung inward with reckless force, and a petite, doll-faced girl stumbled in. “Oops!” The impact sent me sprawling to the floor. “Careful, you little klutz,” Adrian cooed, catching her in his arms. He knelt down, his touch infinitely gentle as he checked her ankle, completely ignoring me on the ground. “You’ll twist your ankle again and then you’ll be whining to me about the pain.” I remembered a time when a simple prick from a sewing needle on my finger had brought tears to his eyes. “Ella, as long as I’m here, I’ll never let you get hurt again,” he had sworn, his voice thick with emotion. “When you hurt, I feel it a thousand times more.” That promise was now a mocking echo. “For God’s sake, Ella,” Adrian’s voice was laced with irritation. “She barely touched you. You’re not even bleeding. Stop being so dramatic.” The pain in my heart was as sharp as the cramps in my belly. I tried to push myself up, my hands slipping on the polished floor, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. A dreadful premonition began to form. “What are you, made of glass?” Autumn sneered, rolling her eyes. Then, the stiletto of her high heel dug viciously into my pregnant belly. “Ah!” A scream tore from my throat. Autumn just smirked, a triumphant glint in her eyes. “See, Adrian? She’s got plenty of energy to scream. She’s fine. Just trying to get your attention.” A flash of alarm crossed Adrian’s face. “What did you do? She’s pregnant! The baby is innocent.” Autumn pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh, sweetie, I was just trying to borrow some of her baby luck. I’m just a girl, how hard could I have possibly stepped?” Adrian’s resolve melted. He sighed, tapping her nose playfully. “You’re trouble.” Then he turned his glare on me. “Get up, Ella. Since the baby’s fine, stop the act. I told you, I’m not him. Don’t try to use the baby to manipulate me.” But it was him, the real Adrian, who had once pressed his ear to my belly, whispering promises of protection for me and our child. He really thought his performance was flawless, that I couldn’t see through his pathetic charade. I tried to speak, but a pain so intense it felt like a knife twisting in my gut ripped the air from my lungs. A dreadful warmth spread beneath me. Something was terribly wrong. Panic seized me. I crawled forward, ignoring the mess and the pain, and grabbed the cuff of his pants. “My stomach… it hurts so much. Adrian, please… help me. Help our baby.” “Autumn barely touched you. There’s a limit to how far you can take this act, I swear to…” He looked down, his impatient retort dying on his lips as he saw the spreading pool of crimson on the floor beneath me. Panic finally broke through his mask. He scooped me into his arms, his voice suddenly frantic, shifting back to the man I knew. “Don’t be scared, Ella, it’s me! The real me is back! I’m taking you to the hospital.” Even now, he couldn’t drop the act. A final wave of agony washed over me, and the world went black. I woke up in a hospital bed. My hand instinctively went to my stomach. It was flat. A raw panic clawed at my throat. “My baby? Where’s my baby?” A nurse rushed to my side, gently restraining me. “Easy, easy. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to rest. The baby is in the NICU incubator. He’s stable.” He. A boy. But I sensed a hesitation in her voice. Our eyes met, and she sighed, her expression softening with pity. “Your son was born prematurely, and the trauma… well, he’s not as strong as other newborns. He’s going to require very careful, dedicated care.” The knot of terror in my chest loosened slightly. I could do that. I could give him all the care in the world. After thanking the nurse, Adrian walked in. He helped me sit up, his eyes filled with a familiar, aching tenderness. “Ella, you suffered so much.” He held up a small, elegant box. “I went to The Gilded Spoon and got you your favorite blueberry cake. Will you have some?” The Gilded Spoon was on the opposite side of town from the hospital. He’d gone to a lot of trouble. But I love strawberry cake. Blueberry was her favorite. Seeing my silence, he pulled me into a hug, his voice cracking. “My love, I’m so sorry. I can only break through to protect you for a moment when you’re hurt. This is all my fault.” He pulled back and slapped himself hard across the face, then again, without a hint of hesitation, not caring about the bruises he’d have to explain at work tomorrow. The old me would have rushed to stop him, my heart breaking for his torment. Now, watching his one-man show, I only felt a cold, bitter amusement. “Bring Autumn in here,” he commanded a nurse. Autumn was brought in, her feet swollen, her eyes shooting daggers at me. Adrian kicked the back of her knees, forcing her to the ground. “You’re lucky Ella is okay,” he snarled. “Otherwise, your worthless life wouldn’t be enough to pay for it. You dare glare at her? You’ll kneel in the hallway all night and think about what you did.” The punishment was meaningless. I just felt tired. Lying in the sterile bed, my eyes burned. I had to ask. “Adrian, do you really love me? Is there anything… anything at all you’ve been hiding from me?” He stroked my hair, a weary smile on his face. “Of course I love you. Why else would I have been able to fight through my condition to get you here? Ella, what could possibly make you think I’m hiding something from you?” Hearing his probing question, I just shook my head. “Nothing. Just asking.” “We’re childhood sweethearts. We’ve loved each other for ten years. Don’t let your mind wander. Get some rest, sweetheart.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll find a way to make this other me disappear for good.” He seemed to relax, then left the room. I closed my eyes, exhaustion washing over me. Yes. Ten years. From high school sweethearts to husband and wife. But in the end, it couldn’t compete with a cheap thrill. He was still lying to me. And I was done with it. Before I fell asleep, I pushed my weakened body up, wanting to see my son. As I passed Autumn’s room, I saw the light was on. Through the crack in the door, I saw Adrian kneeling on her bed, gently massaging her legs, whispering soft words of comfort. He was so meticulous. He must have told her his ‘main personality’ broke through her punishment. I looked away and continued down the hall to the NICU. He was so tiny. His little face was pale, almost translucent, and he was sucking on his own fist. He looked so fragile, so perfect. My heart ached with a love so fierce it stole my breath. I traced the outline of his face on the glass, making a silent vow. Be strong, my little one. Just three more days. Then Mommy is taking you away from all this. In my dreams, I was back in the beginning. An eighteen-year-old Adrian, blushing furiously, handed me a love letter. “Ella, will you be my girlfriend? I’ll spend my whole life making you happy.” A twenty-year-old Adrian, shielding me with his own body as thugs beat him bloody. “How a woman dresses is her choice! It’s not an invitation for scum like you to harass her.” A twenty-four-year-old Adrian, down on one knee with a ring. “Ella, marry me. I promise to love you, cherish you, and be faithful to you for all my days.” A twenty-eight-year-old Adrian, his arm wrapped around Autumn, looking down at me with contempt. “So what if we had ten years, Ella? I’m bored. Autumn is the one I love now.” The Adrian in my dream blurred, and I woke to a searing pain in my cheek. My eyes flew open to see the real Adrian standing over me, his face a thunderous mask. “You are a vicious, heartless woman, Ella.” “Autumn already knew she was wrong, and you made her kneel all night? Do you have any idea she almost had a miscarriage?” “It seems you still haven’t learned your lesson.” Two burly security guards entered the room, each holding a baseball bat. My mind was a confused jumble, but I had the presence of mind to glance out the window. It was daytime. I was dragged from my bed and forced to my knees in front of Autumn. “Don’t you worry, my love,” Adrian said to her, his voice cold and menacing as he looked at me. “I’ll break her legs for you right now.” The bat slammed into my shin, and I screamed. How could I forget? The one time I’d called Autumn a homewrecker, Adrian had hired some thugs to corner me in an alley, just to “teach me a lesson.” I only got away after kneeling on the pavement and begging for his forgiveness, calling myself worthless a hundred times. Even though I’d seen him tending to Autumn’s swollen legs last night, I knew he would never admit it. He would only be crueler to me. The bones in my leg felt like they were shattering. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Adrian, I was wrong! I shouldn’t have made her kneel. I didn’t know she was pregnant. Please, just let me go.” I looked up at him, pleading, but he just kicked me hard in the stomach. A fresh wave of agony tore through me. His face was a mask of disappointment. “You’re still lying. You’ve been pregnant. You’re telling me you couldn’t tell that she was?” The wound from my C-section ripped open. Suddenly, I had no desire to argue. The Adrian I knew would have believed me without question. This man wouldn’t believe me if I tore my own heart out to prove my innocence. My consciousness began to fade. Just as I thought I would die from the pain, Adrian finally signaled for the men to stop. “So you don’t forget this lesson, you can stay here and reflect. I’ll have a doctor see to you in three hours.” … I lay crumpled on the cold hospital floor, a spectacle for every passerby. “Serves her right! Trying to break up a happy couple. What a homewrecker.” “He’s so handsome and she’s so beautiful. And he dotes on her! I heard he’s buying her a private island as a gift now that she’s pregnant.” I listened to their insults numbly, wincing as someone kicked my side. They didn’t know. I was Adrian’s wife. That island was where we got married. He promised we’d take our child there one day to show him where our love story began. Now, looking down at my numb, useless lower body, my heart turned to stone. Three hours later, no doctor came. I crawled back to his room. He was sitting by Autumn’s bed, peeling a pear for her. “Oh, Adrian, don’t share a pear with me! Don’t you know the superstition? It means we’ll be separated,” Autumn chirped, playfully pushing the fruit away. Adrian chuckled and apologized. “You’re right, you’re right. My mistake.” But that’s not what he used to say to me. “Ella, that’s just an old wives’ tale. We’ll never be separated.” He’d said, popping a piece of shared pear into my mouth. “See? If the tale were true, we’d be doomed to part ways now.” Today, his words had become a prophecy. I pushed the memory aside and looked at him, my voice flat. “Adrian. I want a divorce.” The knife in his hand stilled. A sudden, suffocating panic seemed to grip him, the fear of losing something vital. He avoided my eyes. “You still haven’t learned your lesson, have you, Ella?” He gestured dismissively at my torn, dirty clothes. “I had a doctor sent for you. Who are you trying to disgust by showing up like this?” Autumn shook her head, pointing an accusing finger at me. “She’s not confused, Adrian! She’s doing this on purpose! She wants revenge. She wants to get rid of me.” She continued, her voice rising hysterically, “Think about it! When you’re gone, that other personality will find out what happened and he’ll kill me! Then she can have you all to herself!” Hearing this, Adrian seemed to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Enough. I don’t have time for your theatrics,” he said to me. “I’ll have a nurse take you back to your room.” I knew what he was thinking. He was sure I loved him too much to ever leave him. But he was wrong. I had no love left to give. That night, Adrian came to my room. He knelt by my bed, his fingers gently tracing the bandages on my legs. “Ella, I’ve already contacted the best orthopedic surgeons in the country. Don’t be afraid. They said there’s a 50% chance they can fix your legs. You’re going to be okay.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Ella, I know my illness has made you suffer. I’ll have someone break Autumn’s legs right now. Just… just don’t leave me, okay? Please?” He looked up at me, his eyes red-rimmed and shining with tears in the moonlight. “I’ll die without you.” I reached out and gently touched the face of the man I had loved for a decade. “Really?” Adrian nodded desperately. “Sweetheart, you have to believe me.” But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell his lies from the truth anymore. It didn’t matter. I was leaving soon with my son. When I woke up next, I was being wheeled into an operating room. Autumn was leaning against Adrian, a smug look on her face. “I knew you’d try to have that other personality come after me. Good thing my Adrian hid me away.” Adrian stroked her hair, then shot me a look of pure disgust. “You never learn, do you, Ella? Go ahead. Amputate.” The hope of walking again was snuffed out, just like that. When I woke again, I had prosthetics. “Mr. Sterling says that while it may be painful, your duties to Miss Autumn cannot be delayed,” the doctor told me clinically. “He hopes you will adapt quickly.” At the same time, a text from Autumn arrived. You have five minutes to get over here. Or else something might happen to that little weakling of yours… The raw stumps of my legs screamed in protest against the unfamiliar press of the prosthetics, but I didn’t care. I scrambled into my wheelchair and rushed to the NICU. My son was sleeping peacefully in his incubator. My heart settled. I took a deep breath and went to see what new hell Autumn had devised. I kept my face a cold mask. “What do you want, Autumn? I’m warning you, if you touch my son, I will kill you.” She laughed, a high, tinkling sound. “Is that a threat? Adrian cares about the baby in my belly. Yours is just a preemie destined to die young. He’ll always protect me.” I snapped. The slap echoed in the quiet room. No mother could hear someone curse her child like that and do nothing. “Say that again.” Instead of anger, she just smiled, a strange, twisted expression. “Oh, Ella, I know everything. I know you and Adrian aren’t really divorced. He just lied to me because he was afraid the stress would hurt my baby.” “But you’re in your thirties now. You’re old news. Why are you still clinging to him so shamelessly?” she taunted. “He deserves better. He deserves me.” I felt nothing. “I don’t want him anymore. If you want him, he’s all yours.” Autumn’s smile widened. “As long as his ‘main personality’ exists, I’ll never truly have him,” she said. “So I’ll just have to use you to provoke him. Push him until he finally kills that other part of himself for good.” I was about to tell her it was all an act when she suddenly grabbed a fruit knife from the bedside table, forced it into my hand, and plunged it deep into her own stomach. “Your son…” As I stared in shock, she leaned close to my ear and whispered, “A baby is nothing. Compared to Adrian, a baby is nothing at all.” The next second, Adrian burst through the door and saw the scene. A raw, primal scream tore from his throat. “Autumn! Don’t worry, I’ll get a doctor! You’re going to be okay!” “Yes, Adrian… I love you,” she whispered weakly. He carefully lifted her and rushed her to the operating room. Then he stormed back, his face contorted with rage, and kicked me so hard I flew across the room and slammed into the wall. “You’re a monster! That was an innocent child!” “No! It wasn’t me! She stabbed herself! The security cameras… check the cameras!” I fumbled for my phone, showing him the threatening text she’d sent. He shook his head, his face a canvas of pure disappointment. “I don’t need to. You’re still lying, even now. I saw it with my own eyes. Do you think I’m a fool?” “Since you refuse to repent,” he snarled, his eyes glinting with a terrifying coldness, “you’re going to feel the same pain.” He dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the NICU. As I watched in horror, he reached behind my son’s incubator and yanked the power cord from the wall. “NO! Adrian, please! He’s a preemie, he’s so fragile! He’ll die! He’s your son, too!” “Whatever you’re angry about, take it out on me! Don’t hurt the baby, I’m begging you!” I sobbed, banging my head on the floor, pleading with him, but he just sneered. “Now you know how Autumn feels. Maybe this will finally teach you a lesson.” Half an hour later, a doctor appeared. “Miss Autumn is awake. The family can see her now.” “Remember this, Ella,” Adrian spat, his voice low and menacing. “If you ever hurt Autumn again, I will make you pay a hundred times over.” He turned and left without a backward glance. My hands trembling, I crawled to the outlet and plugged the cord back in. But inside the incubator, my son was perfectly still. … Three hours later, I was on a plane, leaving the country forever. At that exact moment, Adrian’s phone rang. It was his friend, Leo. “Adrian, bad news! Ella knows! She knows the split personality was a fake!” “You’ve got to get to the airport, man! She’s taking the baby and she’s leaving!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387197”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel