Category: English

The day I left the Lu mansion, Logan Lu leaned against the doorframe. Watching me pack my bags, he gave a mocking half-smile: “What’s wrong?” “Did you realize that even giving birth to my kid couldn’t force me to marry you?” “So you decided he’s useless now, and you’re not taking him with you?” Before I could speak, Leo Lu, who had been eavesdropping outside the door, walked in. He carefully poured the money from his piggy bank into my hand. “Mom, you need to take good care of yourself.” “And, can you please promise me that you are never coming back?” “Aunt Stella said she’ll only agree to be Leo’s mom if you leave for good.” Chapter 1 Leo finished his plea. His dark, round eyes blinked up at me, practically bursting with hope. Logan lowered his voice, the tone laced with warning. “Leo Lu.” “Is that how your school taught you to speak to your mother?” Leo hung his head, pouting. “But last time, Aunt Stella asked Dad if he was falling for Mom, and you said you weren’t.” “And I don’t really like her either…” “So if Mom wants to leave, just let her go, okay…” His words no longer hurt me. A week ago, on his sixth birthday, he insisted on celebrating with Logan and Stella Song. I realized I was suddenly free of my anxiety and attachment. I didn’t try to stop him at all. Even when I passed that restaurant in the evening. And heard him introduce Stella to the violinist as his mother, my heart remained calm. Chapter 2 Because I was packing, I was squatting. My eyes were level with the small figure of Leo. I accepted his piggy bank money and gave a slight nod. “Okay, I promise you.” I didn’t refer to myself as “Mom” anymore, quietly stating: “I won’t ever come back to this house.” “And I am no longer your mother. Leo, you’re free.” He seemed surprised that I agreed so easily. He stared at me blankly for two seconds. Then he burst into a smile. “Yay!” “Aunt Stella will be my mom now!” He ran out, shouting that he was going to call Stella with the good news. I packed my last item of clothing. I closed the suitcase and stood up. Logan had been silent the whole time. But as I walked past him, he grabbed my arm. His eyes were half-closed, unreadable. “Ava Tang, ‘not loving you’ doesn’t mean ‘hating you.’” “I’m used to you after all these years.” “What’s the point of this dramatic exit?” By the end, his voice was tinged with irritation. I wanted to explain, but it felt pointless and overly sentimental. So I simply pulled my arm back and instructed him: “Take care of Leo.” I dragged my suitcase out of the Lu mansion. It was a long walk out of the gated community. The weather was poor. A cold wind swirled the fallen leaves onto me. It felt easy to let myself look pathetic. But I didn’t look back, not even once. Chapter 3 I had rented an apartment in advance and quickly found a job. Based on my old major, I applied to be an art teacher for an after-school kids’ program. On my first day of work. I walked into the office and saw several female teachers huddled around a little girl. “Chloe, darling, does your Uncle Ace like desserts?” “And, tell me, what kind of girls does he go for?” “Oh, Chloe sweetie, is he picking you up tonight?” The girl was expressionless. “Teachers, you asked me to come here to discuss issues with my painting style, didn’t you?” The teachers exchanged embarrassed glances. “If there are no issues, I’ll head back to class.” The girl turned, saw me. She gave a brief greeting, “Hello, Teacher.” And then walked straight out. Chapter 4 The teachers were very friendly to the new arrival. After showing me the ropes, they brought up the girl again. “You wouldn’t know it, but that kid’s uncle is Ace Harrington.” “He and Logan Lu are known as the city’s most eligible bachelors.” “Oh, wait, I heard Logan Lu is already with his girlfriend, Stella Song, who just got back from overseas.” “So now, it’s just Ace Harrington left.” Hearing Logan’s name again, I felt calm, as if he were a stranger. But Ace Harrington… I sighed silently. He was Logan’s business rival. He always disliked me, and every time we met, I was guaranteed to be the target of his sarcasm. “Pathetic, aren’t you? Logan and Stella’s kissing photo is trending, and you don’t even dare to speak up.” “What did you get from being with Logan? A title? Status?” “Ava, why the hell don’t you look around at other people?” I’d better stay away from the girl named Chloe. If Ace found out I worked here, he might use his connections to get me fired. Chapter 5 Logan called while I was packed into a subway train on my way home. “Hello?” The noise on my end made him pause. After a few seconds, he asked, “Where are you?” “On the subway.” He gave a barely audible laugh. “Riding the subway?” “Ava Tang, this is what you get for being stubborn.” I gripped the overhead bar and only asked, “Do you need something?” The sound of his footsteps, even distorted by the poor connection, was slow and measured. Just like him. I could almost picture him walking from his desk to the floor-to-ceiling window. “Leo has a fever.” He said, “Tell me your address. I’ll come pick you up and bring you home.” “No need.” I looked down. “The Lu family will take good care of him.” “He doesn’t need me.” Logan’s voice deepened slightly. “Are you really going to abandon him?” “Ava Tang.” He sounded incredulous. “Just because he said he prefers Stella?” Logan never seemed to understand my feelings for Leo. Even though I explained countless times. I took the morning-after pill after the accident, but he never believed me. Because I had been in love with him for years. So he was convinced I deliberately got pregnant with Leo to force him to marry me. In his mind, my feelings for Leo weren’t deep. He was just a tool, a bargaining chip. He couldn’t know that my fear of Leo growing to prefer Stella had driven me to countless nights of heartbreak and anxiety. The subway reached the transfer station. The carriage suddenly emptied. “That’s not it, Logan.” I found a seat, my aching legs finally getting a rest. I said softly: “It’s because he genuinely prefers Stella.” “And I don’t want to force myself anymore to try and win him over.” Logan tried to say something else. The next second, Leo’s voice came through the phone, confirming my words. “Dad! Leo’s fever is gone!” “Can we go see Aunt Stella tomorrow?!” Logan cleared his throat. “Ava Tang, listen to me…” I hung up the phone. And got off at the next stop. Shaking off the phone call.

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The young couple next door had a massive fight. In a fit of rage, the woman dumped their cat on my doorstep. Seeing the poor thing, looking like it hadn’t eaten all day, I took it in. It wasn’t friendly with me, but it wouldn’t leave my husband alone, constantly rubbing against him and meowing. That’s when I started to get suspicious. One night, when my husband claimed to be working late, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. She answered, one hand resting on her slightly rounded belly. “Mrs. Hammond? What can I do for you this late?” The challenge and triumph in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. When my husband, Liam, tiptoed home in the dead of night, he found both our parents sitting in the living room. And a set of divorce papers on the coffee table. 1. “Divorce?” Liam didn’t even look at the papers. He snatched them up and threw them at the Ragdoll cat that was currently purring at his feet. “Catherine, are you seriously throwing away seven years of marriage over a stupid cat?” “If you don’t sign, we’ll see each other in court.” I said it calmly, then turned to go back to our room. Our parents stared, stunned. They couldn’t understand how a couple that had seemed so deeply in love just last month could suddenly be on the brink of divorce. Liam looked down, hiding the panic in his eyes, his fists clenched and trembling. His parents rushed to block my path. “Catherine, you can’t just accuse Liam of cheating because of a cat! Some cats are just naturally friendlier with men. What does that prove?” “We’ve all seen how good he is to you. When you had that terrible flu, he stayed by your hospital bed for 48 hours straight. When you fell from that cliff, he sold his company shares, spent a fortune to get you the best medical team in the country.” “Does all of that mean less to you than a cat?” My own parents chimed in, their voices pleading. “Where are you going to find another husband as good as Liam?” “After your accident, you can’t have children. Liam doesn’t hold that against you. You should be grateful. Don’t you see how lucky you are?” Suddenly, Liam grabbed my hand, his eyes red-rimmed and full of a desperate, all-consuming love. “Honey, we dated for two years, we’ve been married for five. We faced death together and never let go. How can you let a cat come between us?” “Is it because I’ve been so busy with the company lately? Do you feel neglected?” “I swear, I’ll come home on time every night to be with you, no matter how busy I am…” Everyone in the room, it seemed, loved me. My in-laws were kind and educated, and had always treated me well. My own parents were more practical; they just wanted me to have a comfortable life with Liam. But the cold resolve in my eyes didn’t waver. I pulled my hand from his grasp. “I’ll say it again. If you don’t sign tonight, we’re going to court.” “This is the last shred of dignity I’m offering you.” Liam’s eyes were bloodshot. “Catherine, how can you be so cruel?” “It’s simple. Because I don’t care about you anymore.” With that, I pushed past them and walked out the door, not wanting to get dragged into any more drama. I heard sighs of disappointment from our parents, but I didn’t slow down. The Ragdoll cat seized the opportunity and slipped out with me. I was sitting on a park bench, staring into space, when I saw the cat chasing after its former owner, who was taking out the trash. The woman, Maya, kicked at its head in disgust, but the cat wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t just watch. I went over to intervene, but the cat arched its back and hissed at me. Maya started to laugh. “You know, Mrs. Hammond, people are a lot like cats.” “If they don’t like you, they don’t like you. You can’t force it.” I looked at the smug challenge in her eyes, then at her swollen belly, and I understood. “You’re right.” “You can’t keep a stray, whether it’s a cat or a person.” Just then, Liam came running over, his face a mask of anxiety. But it wasn’t for me. “Catherine, can you just be reasonable for once? I told you, it’s a misunderstanding! The cat likes me, so what? It has nothing to do with our neighbor! It’s one thing to make a scene at home, but how can you come out here and harass her? Can’t you see she’s pregnant?” He didn’t know what had happened. He just saw me with Maya and instinctively jumped to her defense, casting me as the jealous, irrational wife. A bitter smile touched my lips. Even if Liam did still love me, it was clear that his love for me couldn’t compete with his feelings for Maya. 2. Fearing I would cause more trouble for Maya, Liam dragged me back to our apartment. His parents looked furious. They had read the terms of the divorce agreement and had thrown it in the trash. “Catherine, what is the meaning of this? We’ve treated you like a daughter. It’s bad enough you’re divorcing Liam over a cat, but you want to take everything from him?” “Have we been too good to you? Do you think you can just walk all over us?” My own parents were flushed with shame. “You’ve gone too far. We can’t support you in this.” I didn’t bother explaining. “If you don’t agree, then we’ll see you in court.” A cheater deserves to lose everything. Liam’s voice trembled with desperation. “Catherine, are you doing this for the money? You have the passwords to all my accounts. You can spend whatever you want. Isn’t that enough?” Not all his accounts. He used to give me access to everything, but recently he’d opened a few new cards. I had no idea how much he’d spent on Maya. I was about to point that out when there was a knock on the door. Maya stood there, looking innocent and sweet. “I’m so sorry to bother you all this late.” “I saw Mr. Hammond and Mrs. Hammond arguing downstairs, and I felt terrible, thinking it was my fault.” “Mrs. Hammond wasn’t really harassing me. She was just upset with the cat, and I tried to intervene. It was my fault for getting involved. She has every right to be angry with me.” My in-laws’ faces turned thunderous. “Catherine, you were abusing a cat and bullying our neighbor?” My parents just shook their heads in disappointment. “Catherine, what has gotten into you?” They all missed one crucial detail. “Mr. Hammond?” “Maya, I didn’t realize you knew my husband. All those times we saw each other and you never said hello… it must have been so hard for you to pretend.” Maya immediately looked down, like a startled fawn, peeking up at Liam with a look of innocent panic, silently begging for help. Her right hand, adorned with a sparkling diamond ring, moved to rest on her belly. A flash of panic and affection crossed Liam’s face before he masked it. “I do know Maya. She’s a junior employee at my company. I’ve seen her around.” “I didn’t think it was important, and I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, so I just treated her like a stranger. Catherine, honey, please don’t overthink things.” I almost laughed. If he had nothing to hide, why was he so worried about me “overthinking things”? And how could a junior employee afford a luxury apartment in the city center? Seeing my silence, Liam’s father stood up, his voice booming. “Catherine, if you have proof, I won’t say a word about the divorce. But if you’re trying to ruin my son based on suspicion alone, I’m warning you, you’re dreaming!” Before I could reply, Maya spoke up, her eyes wide. “Take everything? Mrs. Hammond, isn’t that a bit extreme?” “You may not have been to the office, but everyone there knows how much Mr. Hammond dotes on you, how much he loves you. Mrs. Hammond, could it be that you have another man, and you’re using me as an excuse to take Mr. Hammond’s money?” At that, I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. “Watch your mouth.” “Liam may put up with your nonsense, but I won’t.” 3. In that instant, I saw Liam’s hands clench into fists, his eyes burning with a rage I had never seen directed at me. But he quickly composed himself and turned to Maya with concern. “Are you okay?” Her eyes were already red with tears. “I’m fine. I misspoke. Mrs. Hammond was right to hit me. Please, don’t be angry because of me.” After seven years together, it was the first time Liam had ever gritted his teeth at me. “Apologize to her. Now.” I sneered. “Why should I?” “She deserved it.” Suddenly, Liam raised his hand and slapped himself across the face with all his might. Half his face immediately swelled up, red and angry. “I’ll take that for you.” “Catherine, I’m begging you. Please, stop this.” “After your accident, I took care of you, you’ve been at home all this time… maybe it’s gotten to you? Maybe you’re not well? I promise, no matter what, I will never abandon you.” “I’ll give you anything you want. Just please, don’t talk about divorce anymore.” “No,” I said, without a moment’s hesitation. “Liam, every second I spend with you makes my skin crawl.” His pleading, my stubbornness. It was the last straw for our parents. Liam’s parents stood up, their faces grim. “If you insist on a divorce, fine! But you won’t get a single penny from our family. We’ll fight you with everything we have to make sure you walk away with nothing!” My parents just sighed. “Catherine, you’re the one in the wrong here. When you have nothing left, you’ll regret this.” But was I really the one in the wrong? No. The person I had paid off at Liam’s company quickly sent me a surveillance video. I was watching it in the guest room when Liam knocked. Fearing he would see it and destroy the evidence, I quickly put in my wireless earbuds and tucked my phone away. “Catherine, what’s the point of this divorce?” “You can’t have children. No family with my kind of status would ever accept you.” I laughed coldly. “And why can’t I have children, Liam?” Because of the accident, in the second year of our marriage. Liam loved thrills, extreme sports. He always wanted me to join him. One time, we were rock climbing. He slipped. I took a risk to save him, grabbing his hand. He managed to find a foothold, but I was exhausted and fell. Everyone said Liam was a hero, that he’d risked his life for me. Now, he just looked down, guilty and silent. Through my earbuds, I could hear his voice, intertwined with Maya’s flirtatious laughter. “Liam, that was so amazing! Skydiving is the best. But you know, just taking me out for fun once in a while is enough. Making me move in next door to you… isn’t that a little risky?” After the sound of a long kiss, Liam’s voice, husky. “That’s what makes it exciting.” “Catherine has gotten so boring these last few years. You’re the only one who makes me feel alive…” 4. After gathering enough evidence, I went to Liam’s office to check on the company’s financials, to make sure he wasn’t hiding or transferring assets. The senior partners knew who I was and cooperated fully. Only Maya, emboldened by Liam’s favor, tried to cause trouble, luring me to an outdoor smoking area. We were alone. She dropped the act. “Catherine, why can’t you just be a good little housecat?” “A useless woman like you who can’t even have children… Liam keeping you around is a kindness. Why do you have to make things so ugly for yourself?” I laughed. “Fine. I won’t divorce him.” Maya looked stunned. “What?” I laughed harder. “You’re not just a homewrecker, you’re an idiot. You’re trying to provoke me, to push me into divorcing him so you can take my place, right?” “But after you marry him, you’ll get nothing but a mountain of debt.” “Remember that Ragdoll cat? Your fate will be worse than hers.” Maya must have seen the cat. It had come back to our apartment, starving, and I had shut the door in its face. It had to fight with strays for scraps of food and was now covered in infected bites, a truly pathetic sight. The comparison must have struck a nerve. With a snarl, she lunged at me. “You’re the one who’s about to be thrown out! How dare you curse me?” I sidestepped her, disgusted. She lost her balance and fell, clutching her stomach and crying out in pain. The commotion attracted others. Liam rushed back as soon as he heard, grabbing my arm and trying to force me to apologize to her. I refused. “She fell on her own. The security camera will prove it.” Liam gritted his teeth. “What are you talking about? There’s no camera in the smoking area.” I was about to tell him there was, but Maya started sobbing. “Mr. Hammond, it’s not her fault. It’s my fault for living next door, for causing a misunderstanding.” “Please, ask her to forgive me. She can do whatever she wants to me, but she can’t hurt my baby!” Liam’s eyes widened. “Catherine, you would attack an unborn child? The baby is innocent!” “Innocent?” I sneered. “We don’t even know whose bastard it is—” Before I could finish, his hand cracked across my face. “You’re incorrigible!” “Catherine, you brought this on yourself! You want to sue? Fine. I’ll have my lawyer arrange a court date for tomorrow.” “My family doesn’t need a twisted, inhuman monster like you!” In that moment, we weren’t just a couple on the verge of divorce. We were enemies. And everyone, including my own parents, was on his side. Before the hearing, they were still trying to reason with me. “Catherine, are you sure you’re not the one who’s been cheating?” “The internet is full of stories about you, saying you’re a gold-digging adulteress. Your reputation is ruined.” “Please, come to your senses before it’s too late.” Liam’s parents wouldn’t even look at me. “A snake is a snake. You can’t change its nature.” “Liam, when she’s left with nothing and comes crawling back, don’t you dare take her back!” Liam himself looked down on me with an air of finality. “Apologize now, and we can pretend this never happened.” “Otherwise, you’ll end up homeless and alone.” I said nothing, just looked at the judge, waiting for the proceedings to begin. And with a single sentence, the judge wiped the confident smirk off Liam’s face and sent a shockwave of disbelief through the courtroom. “What… how is that possible?” “Liam, what have you been hiding from us?”

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Just because my six-year-old son, Leo, stumbled while walking through the garden and accidentally crushed a single rose, Liam Kingston flew into a rage. He ordered Leo locked in the garden and demanded he plant 999 roses to replace it. Liam didn’t notice Leo was stung by a bee, collapsing on the lawn, convulsing and struggling. I screamed and cried, knocking my head against the iron gate like a madwoman: “Liam, open your eyes and look! Leo was stung by a bee, he’s allergic to bees! Open the gate now, or he’ll go into shock and die!” Liam put his arm around his childhood sweetheart, Holly Chen, and looked down at me dismissively: “Clara, I told you before, this is a private garden I specifically made for Holly. No unauthorized person is allowed inside.” “You’ve indulged Leo time and time again. Now he gets stung a few times and can’t handle it? Stop with this ‘allergic’ nonsense—it’s all your fault for spoiling him!” Holly Chen rolled her eyes in disgust. “Look, sis, a loving mother often spoils her son. Your son has ruined so many of my flowers already. He deserves a lesson.” With that, they embraced and walked away. I could only swing the rusty iron shovel, continuously smashing the gate, but it was too late. I watched helplessly as the red, swollen rash on my son’s body spread, his struggling movements grew weaker, and finally, he went silent. I collapsed to my knees, desperately begging my son to wake up and call me ‘Mom’ one more time, but he never responded. An hour later, I finally smashed the gate open. At the same moment, Liam posted a picture of an ultrasound on social media. [One more precious life for me to protect in this world. Thanks for your hard work, @HollyChen] My heart was dead. I placed the signed divorce papers in the study and made arrangements with the funeral home. Then I liked his post and commented: [Wishing your little love child a safe journey to adulthood.] 1 The next second, Liam called. His furious voice instantly exploded in the solemn, silent funeral home: “Clara Vance, what is that comment supposed to mean!” “Holly and I are childhood sweethearts! It’s only right for me to take care of her when she accidentally gets pregnant with my child!” “And what the hell happened to the garden! You smashed the gate and took Leo—fine—but did you deliberately stomp up the lawn and leave those holes? You and your son are trying to destroy things on purpose, aren’t you?” “Don’t think I’ll let you get away with it this time! You and Leo get your butts back here and plant all 999 roses, or don’t bother coming back into my Kingston house!” I lowered my eyes. My hands were red and swollen from smashing the gate with all my might, and my heart ached sympathetically. Not far away, the mortician was carefully removing the bee stinger that had taken my son’s life: “Liam, Leo is dead. And I will never step inside your house again.” The person on the other end paused, then seemed to laugh out of anger. “Clara Vance, you’re incredible. Got addicted to fighting for attention, did you? Now you’re even cursing your son to death?” Then, a woman’s soft gasp came through the line, instantly halting all my words. Remembering the ultrasound photo I had just seen—Liam and his mistress had a new baby coming—he truly didn’t care if my son lived or died. I sighed deeply. “Liam, I signed the divorce papers and left them in the study. Sign them, and you can live happily ever after with your sweetheart.” The moment I finished speaking, two frail, stooped elderly people entered, leaning on canes. “Where’s my little Leo? How did something happen to him for no reason?” Seeing the two elders who genuinely loved my son, the tears I had been fighting back finally fell. I collapsed, sobbing, into Grandma Kingston’s arms: “Grandpa, Grandma, it’s my fault as a mother. I didn’t watch Leo properly, and he had to suffer so much when he left.” Grandma Kingston and I cried together. Grandpa Kingston forced himself to step forward to look, and two lines of clear tears finally ran down his face: “Didn’t I order all the beehives near the villa cleared? And arranged for dedicated patrols! Where did the bee come from that bit my Leo and caused his reaction!” “It must be that bastard’s private garden, isn’t it!” I managed a bitter smile. Liam wasn’t unaware of Leo’s bee allergy. He had even leveled the villa garden and poured cement on it once, just to prevent accidents. He became a different person after Holly Chen came back. Not only did he allow Holly to replant flowers and plants, but he also indulged her in keeping bees in the garden, calling it “returning to nature and coexisting.” When I tearfully confronted Liam, holding my son after he had another allergic reaction, Liam just lazily lifted an eyelid. “Oh, then I’ll have someone install a fence. Leo won’t be able to get in, so there’s no danger.” An iron fence might keep people out, but how could it stop flying bees? In an instant, the image of my son struggling in pain before he died reappeared in my mind. I couldn’t smash that cursed iron gate open, only watch helplessly as my son convulsed wildly on the lawn until he stopped moving. When he died, his whole body was rigid, covered in red rashes and marks, and his large eyes were filled with lingering attachment to the world. Unwilling to accept it, I carried him to the mortician, begging him to conceal those awful scars. As if doing so could bring back the sweet boy who called me ‘Mom’ in his baby voice. As if he had never experienced such great pain. As if, the next second, he would wake up. But it was just wishful thinking. The mortician covered the last patch of red rash, put down his brush, and walked towards me with a look of sorrow: “Ma’am, the young master is ready. He can be on his way now.” It was then I realized the phone call hadn’t ended. Liam’s mocking voice rang out: “Clara Vance, are you addicted to playing the tragedy queen? Fine, rope my grandparents into your act, but now you’re getting people to say your son is ‘on his way?’ What, are you guys still at the funeral home?” Exhausted, I didn’t want to waste another word on him. “Yes, Leo is at the funeral home. If you come now, you can see him one last time.” To my surprise, he sneered: “Clara Vance! Have some shame! He just got a bee sting! If he was really allergic, a trip to the hospital would fix it. You think I’m that easy to fool?” “Seriously, like mother, like son. No wonder Leo has been so whiny and prone to lying lately!” Unable to listen any longer, Grandpa Kingston snatched the phone and burst into curses. “You bastard! Are you still sticking with that fox right now? Get your butt over here immediately!” As soon as he finished, he clutched his chest and violently threw the phone. Grandma rushed over to help him, but Grandpa pushed her away, crying helplessly: “The family is cursed! Your grandson says even if Leo really died, it doesn’t matter, because that fox has another one in her belly, and that one will surely be better behaved! You monster!” Grandma froze too, her cloudy eyes brimming with tears. She turned and pleaded with me sorrowfully: “Clara, please don’t listen to his nonsense. We only recognize the child you bore.” “Don’t worry. Your grandpa and I are going home right now to kick that fox out and make that bastard grovel and apologize to you!” A lump rose in my throat, and I shook my head. “Grandma, it’s alright. Since Liam’s heart has already strayed, I’ll just take Leo and leave.” “I’m tired after all these years. It’s time for me to go.” The two elders stared at me blankly, but in the end, said nothing more. The three of us stood mournfully before the crematorium oven all night until the staff handed me a small jar of ashes. I settled the urn and drove straight home. My son’s belongings were still in that cold house. I wouldn’t leave them for Liam, who didn’t love him at all. But as soon as I opened the door, a festive party atmosphere hit me: “Wow, Holly is amazing! She’s carrying a little princess for our big brother, Liam!” 2 The whole house was covered in pink. Liam and Holly’s friends were holding up wine glasses. One person disdainfully waved the divorce papers I had left. “Liam, your pathetic wife is quite gutsy, divorcing you and saying she’s leaving with nothing.” “She’s clearly crazy. A poor woman taking a child and leaving? Doesn’t she know her place?” “Honestly, if she wants to go, let her. What kind of brat did she give birth to? He reeks of poverty. It’s embarrassing for our Liam to take him anywhere!” “Exactly! Let’s encourage Holly to have a second one—a real Kingston young master!” The group burst into laughter. I pushed the door open and walked in, and everyone immediately went silent. Liam glanced at me casually, tightening his embrace around Holly Chen, acting as if he didn’t see me: “No need for ‘young master, young master.’ My daughter can be brilliant and talented too.” “Holly and I started training her even before she was born.” With that, he placed a small model airplane on Holly Chen’s slightly bulging belly. I instantly recognized it as the toy my son loved most—the first model Liam had helped him assemble. Even though I bought him many more expensive and better-looking toys afterward, Leo stubbornly insisted on sleeping with this small plane, simply because it smelled like his dad. Now, his dearest dad was going to give it to another woman’s child. I could no longer suppress my emotions and rushed forward, crying out: “Liam, your son’s body isn’t even cold yet! How can you do this to him!” The temperature around Liam instantly dropped. He slapped me across the face. “Clara Vance, what’s this ‘body not even cold’ nonsense? Are you addicted to acting now?” I couldn’t dodge in time. The back of my head struck the corner of the table, and warm liquid began to trickle down. And my son’s most treasured toy plane was cruelly thrown to the floor and smashed under Liam’s foot: “It’s just a toy! What’s wrong with giving it to his little sister? Is this how you teach a child?” “You didn’t even plant one rose and left a bunch of holes. Now you and your son dare to challenge me, huh?” Seeing his face, the image of my son’s painful death flashed through my mind. I wanted nothing more than to drag him to my son’s ashes and make him apologize. But my son’s comforting words, spoken that afternoon while he was holding the rose sapling, echoed in my ears: “Mom, don’t cry, don’t blame Dad. It’s Leo who should be punished. Leo can do it!” “But Dad was a little mean. He didn’t comfort me when I fell, and he scolded me. Next time, I won’t talk to him!” “Mom, let’s both ignore Dad next time, okay?” I closed my eyes, struggling to suppress the surging grief, and spoke slowly: “Yes, I don’t deserve to be a mother. And I don’t deserve to be your Kingston daughter-in-law. Sign the divorce papers, and from now on, we have no connection.” Liam looked at me, a cruel smile playing on his lips: “You want me to sign the divorce papers? Fine. You kneel over here, beg Holly Chen’s forgiveness, and apologize for spoiling your child and ruining her garden, and for interrupting today’s celebration party!” “The moment she’s satisfied, I’ll sign.” Hearing this, Holly Chen straightened her back and looked at me mockingly. The others also became interested, their eyes fixed on me. Some even started betting: “I bet a hundred bucks she won’t kneel. She really thought she could make Holly leave, and now she looks like a fool.” “She’ll probably end up sobbing and begging Liam to forgive her. That ‘dead’ son will probably come crawling back, and the mother and son will accept the punishment together.” The next moment, I pushed myself up and hit the ground with a loud thud. “I’m sorry! I was wrong!” A fragment of the toy plane plunged into my forehead, and blood streamed down. I seemed not to feel the pain, moving one knee, one step, one bow at a time, yet never reaching the end. Because every step I knelt forward, Holly Chen giggled and took one step back, leading me around the room like a dog on a leash. The surrounding voices slowly changed from spectacle to concern: “Liam, Holly, maybe that’s enough. Look how much blood she’s losing. Someone might actually get hurt.” “Yeah, look how pale her lips are. Is she actually in danger?” “She wants to leave anyway, so it works out. It’s about time you gave Holly a proper title, Liam.” I paused and looked back. The fluid flowing from my head had left a long, shocking trail of blood. I had no intention of stopping. As I prepared to knock my head again, Liam kicked me down. He flung the signed divorce papers in my face: “That’s enough! I signed it! Stop playing the victim here and fishing for sympathy! Don’t think I wouldn’t dare to divorce you!” “Take your child and get out! But you better remember, if you walk out that door today, your son won’t inherit a single cent!” “Don’t you dare try to make me acknowledge you or your son ever again!” 3 Having lost too much blood, I couldn’t stand steadily. I barely picked up the agreement and got to my feet. Liam stared hard at me. I simply flipped to the last page, confirmed the signature, and smiled: “Fine. I’m going to pack Leo’s things and leave.” With that, I turned and entered my son’s room. When the door closed, all the noise outside instantly stopped. I leaned against the door, my eyes blurring with tears. My son’s small blanket wasn’t folded, and the fairy tale book he hadn’t finished last night was still on his bedside table. It was as if, any second, he would jump out of the closet in a ghost costume to scare me. I wiped my tears, dragged the suitcase out of the closet, and began packing my son’s things. Clothes, toys, books, little crafts he made at preschool—I cried and laughed as I carefully packed them one by one, until I found a palm-sized message in a bottle. Inside were yellowed slips of paper. I opened one in a daze, and it turned out to be IOUs written between him and his father. When Leo was three and wouldn’t leave my side, he constantly threw tantrums about sleeping with me. It annoyed Liam so much that he would sneak into the room every midnight and carry me back to our bedroom: “This is ridiculous! I gave birth to an inconsiderate love rival!” “Honey, I miss you too. Can you spend more time with me?” Before he could reach the room, the small ball of awakened flesh would chase after him, hitting and cursing Liam, calling him the thief who stole his mom. Left with no choice, the father and son agreed to alternate nights. Whoever wanted an extra night had to write an IOU to the other. Liam had a lot of tricks for coaxing his son, and slowly, he racked up a huge stack of IOUs. When Leo asked him to repay them, Liam would use some crooked logic to appease him. However, after Holly Chen returned to the country, I spent more and more nights sleeping with my son. I thought he would be happy, but he became gloomier every day. “Mom, did you and Dad fight? Dad hasn’t come to see Leo for a long time.” He pulled me to the master bedroom, knocked on the door, and said he would write an IOU for Dad so Mom could sleep with Dad. Holly Chen was sprawled on the bed, her face flushed. The image of that breakdown rushed back. My heart gave a sudden, painful lurch. Not wanting to recall it, I trembling opened my son’s last note. It was written in wobbly, childish handwriting: [I want Mom and Dad to take me to Disneyland to see the fireworks!] My son had been asking for this wish since the beginning of the year, but Liam always canceled because of Holly Chen, and they never went. Now, he was gone, and he would never go. Suppressing the rising tide of regret, I booked a flight for the next afternoon and closed the suitcase. My body instinctively lay down on my son’s small bed, trying to capture his last scent. My exhausted mind involuntarily relaxed. I fell asleep, only to be awakened in the middle of the night by an abnormal shaking. I opened my eyes groggily. Right before me were Liam and Holly Chen, kissing! “Liam, didn’t we come here to see how to convert this room into a princess room? Why are you fooling around again?” I sat up abruptly. Liam glanced at me provocatively and didn’t stop what he was doing. Holly Chen looked at me with seductive eyes. “Sis, don’t be mad. We just wanted Leo to get used to his little sister’s presence early. After all, they’ll be growing up together.” “After this, can’t the five of us just live together happily?” They were openly making love on my son’s bed. My stomach lurched violently, and a wave of nausea rushed to my head. Liam saw me shaking with rage. Instead of feeling guilty, he adopted an accusatory tone: “Clara, I looked into it. Leo didn’t go to the hospital for an allergic reaction that day. Where did you hide him?” “Enough is enough. If you keep making trouble, I really won’t want you or your son anymore.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I suddenly vomited all over both of them. Liam froze for a moment. Holly Chen’s face changed drastically. She suddenly clutched her stomach, looking distressed: “Liam, my tummy hurts so much… so much…” Liam anxiously picked up Holly Chen, knocking me over in the process. “If anything happens to the baby in Holly’s belly, I’ll make your son pay for it!” I was left alone in the room again. I quietly got up, pulled the suitcase, and staggered out. It was still dark outside, the streets were empty, and the cool night wind whistled into my collar, making me shiver. Dizzy from blood loss, I didn’t stop walking. Finally, at dawn, I reached the cemetery. The plot I bought for my son this morning held an empty coffin. I knelt beside it, opened the suitcase, and placed his favorite things inside one by one. I left only an empty space for the urn. I looked at the urn in my hand, feeling as if my son were in my arms: “Mommy will take you to see the world, and then we’ll come back to rest, okay?” 4 Liam took Holly Chen to the hospital for a full night of checks. Only after confirming the fetus was safe did he finally breathe a sigh of relief. He sat wearily in the waiting area outside the examination room, rubbing his temples. The vomit on his clothes had dried, but the foul odor lingered. Normally, he would have blown up and forced Clara to clean up, but at that moment, he was inexplicably afraid. He realized all of Leo’s things were packed up, and Clara’s expression had been so sorrowful. Just then, Butler Dong, who specifically cared for his grandparents, rushed over. Liam irritably waved him off. “Dong, if you’re also here to lie to me that my son is dead, just shut up. I won’t believe it.” Butler Dong’s eyes showed a look of complex distress, but he bowed respectfully. “Young Master, this time it’s not Young Master Leo. Your grandparents have been hospitalized with a heart attack. If you have time, please visit them.” Liam rushed to the intensive care unit. As soon as he pushed open the door, a glass cup instantly smashed against the doorframe, shattering. Grandpa, wearing an oxygen mask, looked like he wanted to tear Liam apart: “You monster who killed his own son! You have the audacity to come see me? Get out!” The monitoring equipment emitted a piercing alarm. Butler Dong quickly stepped forward to calm Grandpa. “Mister, the dead cannot be brought back. Please take care of yourself.” Liam was still confused, and the pent-up frustration of the past two days finally burst out: “Are you all sick? I already checked the hospital records! My son was never here, and there are no medical records for him!” “He was only in the garden for a few hours! How could he possibly be dead? Did he really die from a bee sting?” Grandpa’s suddenly widened eyes were filled with disappointment. He then fell back onto the hospital bed, weakly ordering the butler: “Dong, you tell him.” The butler sighed. “Young Master Leo was indeed stung to death by a bee. But when the private doctor and the ambulance arrived, it was too late. So the Madam took him directly to the funeral home.” As if afraid Liam still wouldn’t believe it, the butler turned on the TV, playing the surveillance footage from two days ago. Liam finally saw Leo struggle to dig the first hole, then get stung on the calf by a bee. Strangely, Leo, who usually feared bees the most, didn’t cry or fuss this time. After glancing at the wound with teary eyes, he gritted his teeth and continued digging the hole, planting the rose sapling crookedly, trying to bury the stinging pain. Liam remembered that was why he hadn’t believed Clara’s story—Leo didn’t cry or fuss. He thought Clara was just making a scene because she felt sorry for the child. Grandpa spoke heartbreakingly, “Leo didn’t even dare to cry to make you happy! Look at what kind of father you are!” Liam stumbled, leaning against the wall, his eyes glued to the screen. He saw the red rash on his son’s body spread wider, the allergic reaction worsening, until Leo suddenly collapsed and convulsed. He knew what that was—anaphylactic shock. The first time his son had a reaction, he was so scared he prayed all night in the ancestral hall for his son’s safety. And this time… Liam had been deaf to it all, embracing the aunt his son hated most, buying princess dresses for another unborn child. Only Clara was left, frantically smashing the iron gate. The surveillance video ended with Clara agonizingly holding her son’s body and weeping. Liam’s heart was also instantly clenched, tears streaming down his face helplessly: “What have I done? What have I done!” Grandpa was trembling with anger. “You monster! Even if Leo did something wrong, couldn’t you have just punished him simply? Why force him to plant 999 roses?” “He’s only six! Could he even plant them all?” “You destroyed your own family for a fox! Was it worth it?” Another glass cup was thrown, hitting Liam right on the nose. The pain forced him to bend over, but he still tried to defend Holly Chen: “Grandpa, Holly Chen did nothing wrong! And she’s pregnant with my child now! If you have to blame someone, blame me!” To his surprise, Grandpa got even angrier. “She did nothing wrong? She is the culprit who caused your son’s death!” The butler continued, “We investigated. Holly Chen kept her bees near the villa, and almost every window frame was smeared with honey.” “And Young Master Leo has already had to have the private doctor come over more than ten times in the last three months because of bee stings.” “I suspect Young Master Leo’s death was not an accident. We have already contacted the police to get involved.” Liam felt as if he had been struck by lightning, unable to believe what he was hearing. The door of the intensive care unit was suddenly pushed open. Several bodyguards dragged a fiercely struggling Holly Chen inside. Seeing Liam, she cried out as if he were her lifeline: “Liam! You have to help me! These people dragged me into the operating room without a word and poked my baby with a needle as long as my arm!” “What if something happens to the baby? I don’t want to live anymore!” Butler Dong looked down at her and sneered, “Holly Chen, we just invited you to cooperate with a paternity test to see if the child in your belly is a Kingston.” “The results? See for yourself!” A document was flung in front of Holly Chen. She panicked instantly. “I won’t look! I won’t look! It’s fake! Liam, don’t believe them! They are deliberately trying to break us up!” But Liam, who always listened to her, seemed like a different person. He bent down and picked up the report. The words were clearly printed on the paper: [Based on the results of this DNA test, there is no biological relationship between Liam Kingston and the sample.] Liam’s face turned deathly pale. Holly Chen broke free of her restraints, scrambled up to look, and saw the same line. She immediately dropped to her knees with a thud: “Liam, I swear I didn’t know this child wasn’t yours! It must have been the drink I had before I came back home!” “I’ll abort it right now, okay? Once I abort it, I’ll try again to have yours! Please, don’t leave me!” Holly Chen hugged his leg, crying hysterically, but Liam didn’t hear anything. All sorts of noises flooded his mind. After a long while, Liam finally spoke in a hoarse voice: “What about Leo? Where is he buried now?” “And Clara? Is she gone? Where did she go?”

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On our wedding night, my husband, strong and muscular—the type who clearly knew how to work hard—left for the city to find work and vanished without a trace. I was left alone in our small village, starving and freezing, working from dawn until dusk. In just one year, the once round and lucky-looking woman I was became a skinny, miserable wreck. Just then, my biological parents showed up. They said I was their daughter, swapped at birth, and they wanted to take me to the city to live in luxury. But the moment I got into the car, I was kidnapped. They threatened my parents: pay the ransom, or they’d kill me! I was shaking with fear, but when they took off the blindfold and I saw the leader of the gang, I froze. Isn’t that my husband who left on our wedding night? 1 “Honey!” The name I blurted out made every eye in the room snap to me and Wes. Wes instantly turned bright red. I couldn’t clearly see his expression, but I was so overwhelmed I yelled the name again, louder. “Honey!” The gang members stared at me, tied up like a pretzel, then burst into roaring laughter. “Big Boss, is this woman crazy?” “Calling every guy ‘Honey’? Hey, sweet cheeks, how about me?” “You? Look at the Boss’s physique! Now look at yours!” “The Boss is so lucky! Even as a kidnapper, beautiful rich girls are throwing themselves at him!” Wes shot them a fierce look. When he looked at me, he frowned. “Stop shouting! Who are you calling ‘Honey’?” I froze. He didn’t recognize me! He heartlessly abandoned me on our wedding night, promising to come back and give me the good life, but he never called. If my biological parents hadn’t found me, I’d still be a lonely statue, waiting for him in the village! The memory made me furious. I started screaming. “You lowlife scumbag! You abandoned me and disappeared! Now you show up and kidnap me? Do you have any conscience left?” “Do you know how I lived? I was hungry and cold! I nearly froze to death in the village last winter!” I exaggerated my miserable past, tears streaming down my face. The thugs looked genuinely confused. “No way, is she really the Big Boss’s wife?” “The Boss is rich! He’s got a wife and money now!” “Boss, you can’t forget your brothers once you hit the big time!” A skinny guy with yellow hair crept up to Wes, grinning. “Boss, we kidnapped a person, but this chick wants a personal service!” Wes pushed him away in disgust. “Shut up, all of you!” He walked up to me, deliberately deepening his voice, and pinched my chin. “Open your eyes and look closely! Who is your husband? My name is Wes Stone, but on the streets, they call me ‘River Dragon’!” “Besides, I have a wife! She’s round and lucky-looking!” “You sound like her, but you’re skin and bones. Do you think I’m blind?” “Little beauty, stop trying to get close to me, or I’ll cut out your tongue!” He threatened me menacingly, but as he turned away, I heard him mumble. “Wearing such nice clothes… why is she pretending to be my wife? What an actress! Good thing I didn’t fall for it.” I was already mad he wouldn’t admit who he was. Hearing that, I subconsciously looked down at myself. My waist, once a barrel, was now sleek and slender. My big butt was now a peach. I’d lost 130 pounds! No wonder he didn’t recognize me. For the first time in my life, I wanted to cry because of my figure. “I really am your…” Before I could finish, he slapped tape over my mouth. “I’m warning you! I’ve been a criminal for years. I kill without remorse. Your seduction tactics won’t work on me!” “Stay quiet and wait for the ransom, or I won’t be gentle!” He menacingly tapped my face with the knife. I was too shocked to move. When he walked away, I sniffled. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I cursed under the tape. “Wes, you lowlife bastard!” But with the tape on, they couldn’t hear what I said. After a while, I calmed down, studying the men around me. They were all big and rough, covered in tattoos and scars. They looked like the local village troublemakers. I looked at Wes, instructing his men in the distance. I sank into thought. He said he went to the city for work. How did he end up here? Why was he kidnapping me? I lamented internally. Honey, trying to learn everything will only ruin you! 2 A phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Wes glanced at me and lowered his voice. “Miss Chen, it’s done.” Miss Chen? Jessica Chen? Isn’t that the sister who was swapped with me? Was she the one who ordered the kidnapping? I instantly strained my ears. “Don’t worry, we didn’t hurt her, just gave her a scare.” “We’ll make sure she backs off and doesn’t bother you anymore.” With those two sentences, I understood the whole plot. She just didn’t want me to come home! I rolled my eyes. Since my life wasn’t in danger, I had nothing to worry about. My priority now was teaching my dense husband a lesson for not recognizing his wife. Once he hung up, I kicked the skinny yellow-haired thug, signaling him to rip off the tape. He was curious and wanted to see the show, so he actually did it. The first thing I did was clear my throat. “Honey~” The sugary voice made the thugs choke with laughter. Wes flinched, turning back with a tight expression. “I told you not to call me that!” I pouted dramatically. “Why so mean? I’m thirsty. Even kidnappers can’t let their hostage die of thirst, can they?” I faked a pained look. Wes sighed, throwing a bottle of water that landed near me. I looked at the water, my eyes darting around. “Oh no, I’m tied up! I can’t drink. Honey, can you help me?” He looked defeated, walking over to hold the bottle to my lips. I looked at his hands and his abs, gulping down saliva. He noticed me staring and quickly covered his chest. “Are you going to drink or not?” I quickly looked away. “Yes, yes, of course.” I drank half the bottle, burping contentedly. As he moved to leave, I changed my tone. “Honey~” He nearly tripped over his own feet. “Auntie, what do you want now?” “Man cannot live on bread alone. Honey, you’ve kept me tied up for ages. Aren’t you going to feed me?” He covered his ears and looked away in disgust. “Fine! Wait!” The thugs couldn’t hold it anymore and roared with laughter. “Boss, I don’t think your wife wants food. She wants you!” “Why don’t you sacrifice yourself, Boss? Just take the girl!” Wes angrily slammed the water bottle on the ground. “Shut up, all of you!” “I’m warning you again! I have a wife! If I hear that kind of talk again, I’ll turn against you!” Seeing his genuine anger, the thugs sobered up. I smiled, pleased. My husband was dense, but he had good morals. Wes looked back at me fiercely. “Take her inside and lock her up! I’m going to buy food!” The thugs quickly escorted me inside. I wrinkled my nose. “You want me to sleep here?” The yellow-haired guy winked. “This is the Boss’s private room! Single bed! You’re welcome!” “Oh,” I said, looking enlightened, returning his smile. “Don’t worry, brother. If this works out, your sister-in-law won’t forget you!” I sat down quietly. After a long wait, when I was almost falling asleep, Wes returned. “Here, eat!” He handed me a bun and an egg. I felt a pang of warmth. “You feed me.” He frowned, about to snap, but I lifted my hands. “I’m tied up! You expect me to peel my own egg?” Frustrated, he sat beside me. He carefully peeled the egg and held it to my lips. I leaned back. “I don’t eat egg yolks.” He sighed, but silently ate the yolk. He fed me the whites. His dark, tanned skin contrasted with the white egg. He was a muscle man, but his fingers were surprisingly defined. I subconsciously swallowed. When I opened my mouth, I accidentally brushed his finger. My heart hammered. Wes was busy eating the yolk, not noticing my reaction. “I’m a kidnapper! You’re lucky to be alive! You’re picky now?” I looked at him innocently. “My husband taught me: whatever I don’t like, he eats.” Wes paused, swallowing the yolk. His wife didn’t like egg yolks either! Could this skinny rich girl really be his wife? He shook his head, pushing the absurd idea away. His wife was plump and adorable. This skinny rich girl couldn’t possibly be her! 3 Night fell. Wes made a bed on the floor. “You sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m guarding you.” I felt warm inside. I complained from the bed. “Honey, you’re so sweet.” He glared at me, saying nothing. I pushed my luck. “Can you untie me? My hands hurt.” He instantly looked suspicious. “No! If I untie you, you’ll run away! Don’t even try your cute voice. The answer is no!” His stubbornness annoyed me. I moved aside, offering him half the bed. I fluttered my eyes at him. “Then you can just hold me! I won’t run away!” He closed his eyes, pretending not to hear me. I wasn’t letting him get off easy! I poked his thigh with my foot. Wes jumped up and hit his head on the ceiling, groaning in pain. I sat up, pretending to be worried. I saw his ears were red. I lay back down, smiling, pouting my lips. “Honey, if you don’t untie me, I don’t know what I might do next, you know~” He wrapped himself up tightly in the blanket, his jaw clenched. “I don’t believe you can do anything!” I smirked. “I won’t run away, but I can definitely make you miserable all night.” I was nervous playing the seductive part, but he didn’t respond for a long time. I was getting annoyed. I was a beautiful woman now! I angrily turned my head and saw his fists clenched. He was muttering under his breath. “Must not hurt the hostage. Must not hurt the hostage…” I fought a giggle. Wes suddenly surrendered. “Fine. I’ll untie you. Just stop bothering me!” He looked miserable. “Promise me, once I untie you, you’ll be quiet and leave me alone!” I nodded obediently. “Anything for you, Honey.” He shivered in disgust, untying the ropes. He didn’t see the mischief in my eyes. Freed, I immediately pounced on him, wrapping myself around him like an octopus. “I was tied up all day! Time to stretch!” He froze, his eyes wide. “You… you lied!” I laughed, running my fingers over his abs. “Honey, your body is incredible!” He was terrified, trying to push me away. “Get off me! Or I won’t be nice! I’ll really throw you out!” “I have a wife! I’m still a virgin!” I held on tightly, biting his ear. I whispered menacingly. “Wes, do you really not recognize me?” If he said no, I was biting his ear off! Wes stiffened, turning to look at me slowly. “Are you…” Chapter 4 4 I cuddled into his chest. “You remember me! I thought you’d forgotten me completely!” He was stiff, but then he sighed. “You must have heard my name from the guys. I shouldn’t trust you.” “You’re so annoying! Why are you messing with me? I’ve told you—I won’t fall for your seduction! I won’t let you go!” I was so exasperated I pinched his ear. “Wes, one second of sunlight makes you arrogant, doesn’t it?” Hearing my angry voice, he finally panicked. He shoved me away and stared at my face. After a long time, he shook his head fiercely. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” “My wife is twice as wide as you! And you have a sharp chin! She has a round face!” Hearing him call me “round-faced,” I hit him on the nose and lifted my pants to show him the scar on my ankle. “You think I have a round face? I nearly got eaten by a dog saving you! You lowlife bastard!” He looked confused, nearly falling to his knees. “Auntie, please stop playing games with me! Who told you all this?” I folded my arms, annoyed. “You don’t believe me? I’ll help you remember!” “You watched Widow Liu take a bath when you were three, stole Little Fang’s panties when you were five, were caught stealing dates and called a hooligan by Old Mrs. Chen when you were six, and your nine aunts still laugh about you wetting the bed when you were seven…” He clamped his hand over my mouth, nearly suffocating me. I struggled, hitting his hand. Wes’s veins popped. He bit out each word. “I believe you! You’re Chloe Lane! Stop talking!” I nodded frantically, finally able to breathe. Wes looked at me, full of remorse. “Are you okay, wife? Why didn’t you stay home and wait for me?” I glared at him. “It’s all your fault!” “You were gone for years without a word! How was I supposed to survive? I worked before dawn and slept after midnight, taking care of four old people! Look how skinny I am!” He nodded apologetically. “Yes, yes, my fault, my fault.” I was still angry. I hugged his arm and took a loud, deliberate bite. Mmm, still tastes the same!

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1 I am bound to a transmigration system for the terminally ill. My new home is the body of Seraphina Vance, the universally despised ‘real’ heiress. Everyone in this family adores Pearl, the girl they lovingly raised for sixteen years. My three new brothers, terrified I’ll steal what is rightfully Pearl’s, greet me only with scorn. My biological parents, desperate to shield Pearl from any hurt my presence might cause, lavish her with affection. No one ever considered my feelings. They saw my craving for love as a threat, as jealousy. And then, I was dying. And then, my second brother found the diary I kept hidden under my pillow. And their world shattered. I woke up as Seraphina Vance, six months after she’d been brought home by the wealthy Vance family. On my very first day, a plate of food was thrown in my face. Scalding curry sauce streamed from my cheek to my neck, and meatballs rolled from my dress onto the floor. The heat was searing. I stared blankly at the boy in front of me, my dark eyes empty of emotion. The others at the table were stunned into silence by his outburst. “Neo, what the hell are you doing?” Mrs. Vance cried out. A flicker of regret crossed Neo’s face, but his words were a lash of accusation. “It’s her fault! She has that dead-inside look on her face all the time. Pearl was talking to her, couldn’t she hear?” At the mention of her name, Pearl’s face crumpled with guilt. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize this was because of me…” She turned to me, her expression a mask of apology. “My brother didn’t mean it, Sera. Can I apologize to you on his behalf?” Neo bristled. “Why are you apologizing to her? Who does she think she is? Pearl, don’t waste your time on her!” A faint, bitter smile touched my lips. I wondered the same thing. In their eyes, who was the girl whose body I now inhabited? I looked at Pearl, surrounded by her three adoring brothers, a vision in a pristine white dress, her hair styled to perfection. And then there was me, stained yellow with curry, the smell of cheap takeout clinging to me. Pearl. The pearl of the family. A name that was never meant to be hers. I ignored her. I picked up the lone meatball that had landed on my lap, mixed it with the sauce still on my lips, and swallowed. It didn’t taste like I remembered. I stood up. “I’m full. Thank you for the meal. I’m going to my room.” As I turned, I met the worried gaze of the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable. I offered her a small, tight smile. Silence descended upon the dining room. Mr. and Mrs. Vance’s faces were grim. My eldest brother, Liam, spoke, his voice low and stern. “Neo, you went too far this time. Seraphina did nothing wrong.” In my old world, I was already dead. Stomach cancer, terminal stage. I died at eighteen. The pain had been unbearable. I died alone. Except for that single meatball, I hadn’t eaten solid food in nearly three months. Perhaps the system took pity on me, bringing me here. This body had stomach cancer, too. But it wasn’t yet at the point of no return. The system told me the original girl, Seraphina, had killed herself with sleeping pills today. The constant abdominal pain and coughing up blood had made her realize something was terribly wrong. But she was too scared to tell the Vance family, afraid of being a burden, afraid of making them hate her even more. So she chose to simply leave this world. She was so foolish. The Vances were powerful. With proper treatment, she might have had a chance. What an ironic family. Their biological daughter had been home for six months, and they never even noticed she was seriously ill. “Why did you bring me here?” I asked the silence. To another girl who shared my fate. An orphan from birth. A victim of stomach cancer. Perhaps she was luckier than me, reunited with her birth parents at sixteen. Or perhaps she was far more unfortunate, dying before she ever experienced a single moment of unconditional love. The system was silent. “Did my arrival make the symptoms worse?” I asked, tasting the metallic tang of blood in my throat. “Yes,” the system’s voice was mechanical. “Just like with your original body, you likely won’t make it past eighteen…” “But if you undergo treatment…” “Don’t treat it,” I said flatly. It didn’t matter. I was going to die anyway. Besides, I didn’t want to live. In the middle of the night, the pain in my stomach was excruciating, and I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. It felt just like my previous life, curled into a ball, staring into the darkness until dawn. My throat was parched. I crept downstairs in the dark, looking for water, and ran into my second brother, Caleb, in the living room. Caleb was a professional gamer; it was normal for him to be up at two or three in the morning. He noticed me immediately, his expression souring. He was the quietest of the Vances. In the six months Seraphina had been here, he’d never once looked at her with anything other than disdain. I ignored him. My very presence seemed to annoy him. I hunched over, making my way to the kitchen, unaware of the shock on Caleb’s face. In the dim glow of the living room’s nightlight, he could clearly see the sweat beading on my forehead, my lips drained of color. Except for the angry red burn on my cheek, the rest of my face was a terrifying, waxy white. I was so used to the ghastly complexion caused by my illness that I paid it no mind. I leaned against the sink, trying to catch my breath, when a wave of nausea rose in my throat. I coughed, and blood splattered into the basin. “Gahk—” The force of it brought tears to my eyes. A noise from the doorway told me Caleb had followed me in. I quickly turned on the faucet, washing the blood down the drain, and cupped my hands to drink some cold tap water. I heard Caleb’s deep voice behind me. “You should drink warm water. Cold water will mess up your stomach.” I mumbled a soft “mm,” keeping my head down, and tried to slip past him. The original Seraphina had barely spoken to him, and I had no desire to get entangled with this family. But his hand shot out and gripped my wrist. I turned my head, my voice raspy. “Caleb? Do you need something?” Up close, he could see the burn on my cheek more clearly. He frowned, silent for a moment. “Why haven’t you treated that burn?” His expression was one of impatience. He probably thought it was just another pathetic ploy for attention. I pulled my wrist free, nodding vaguely. “Right. I’m going back to bed.” As I left, Caleb, his brow still furrowed, flipped on the kitchen light. Though the blood was diluted, his sharp eyes caught the faint crimson streaks left behind in the sink… The next morning, I bumped into Neo at the top of the stairs. As the third brother, he was the most hostile. He and Pearl were close in age and had the deepest bond. To his young, simplistic mind, the sister he had cherished and protected his whole life was being replaced. This newcomer was here to steal everything that belonged to Pearl. He directed all his frustration onto his real sister, blaming her for disrupting their perfect life, never realizing that she was the most innocent one of all. Neo’s eyes darted away when he saw the prominent burn on my face. He said nothing, stubbornly waiting for me to greet him first. I didn’t even glance at him. I just walked around him and continued down the stairs. “You’re a grown girl, can’t you take care of a simple burn?” Mr. Vance’s voice was cold. “What will people think if you walk around looking like that?” He was a traditional patriarch, more concerned with profit than family. He was only worried I would embarrass him. After all, in his eyes, I was a useless girl, brought back for six months, with no discernible talents in arts or music, abysmal grades, and no value to exploit. Mrs. Vance’s expression was equally disapproving. I laughed internally. If it had been Pearl, she would have been rushed to the hospital immediately. But last night, not a single person had come to check on my burn, or to see if I was hungry after eating so little. Their favoritism was blatant and absolute. “There’s no first-aid kit in my room,” I stated simply. The Vances fell silent. In their mansion, the family’s rooms were fully stocked with every amenity. But when they brought me back, they had put their biological daughter in a guest room. And a guest room, naturally, had the bare minimum. I even had to use the public bathroom down the hall. Not one of them had ever suggested I be given a proper room. Seeing the red, angry mark on the face that so closely resembled her own, Mrs. Vance felt a momentary pang of unease. If Pearl had so much as a scratch, the entire family would flock to her side. Why was her real daughter so quiet, so… unlovable? “Well, you should have said something if it was that serious,” Neo muttered defensively. A sharp pain began to pulse in my upper abdomen. I instinctively bent over, the taste of blood rising in my throat again. I clutched the strap of my backpack. “I’m leaving for school,” I rasped. Neo frowned. For a second, he thought there was something strange about the way I was standing… Seraphina had been transferred to the same school as Neo and Pearl. But Pearl refused to ride in the same car as her, terrified someone would discover she wasn’t a real Vance. So, Seraphina always went to school alone. And for the past six months, thanks to Pearl’s subtle instigation, she had been a target of constant bullying. But the foolish girl had endured it all in silence, probably knowing that even if she spoke up, no one would care. Her family certainly wouldn’t believe that their perfect Pearl was behind it. I had just pulled my textbook from my desk when I saw the fake cockroach glued to the cover. The girls who were waiting for my reaction were already trying to stifle their smirks. If I were the original Seraphina, I would have swallowed my fear and anger. But for me, dealing with this kind of nonsense was second nature. I had come to this world to die in peace. But if they insisted on provoking me, I was no pushover. I grabbed the textbook, cockroach and all, and marched over to the nearest girl who was enjoying the show. I slapped it across her face. Before she could scream, I dumped the contents of her desk onto the floor and found her copy of the same book. Seraphina had always been a quiet, invisible presence in class. Today, with my burned cheek, I had already drawn more attention than usual. This sudden explosion of aggression silenced the entire room. The girl, recovering from the shock, lunged at me, her nails like claws. I grabbed her by the hair, my voice cold. “I’ll let the past slide. But don’t ever mess with me again.” I shoved her away and went back to my desk, slumping over it. It wasn’t just the dull ache in my stomach; a wave of nausea was washing over me. The girl wasn’t finished. She raised her hand to slap me, but her wrist was caught in a firm grip. “You’re noisy,” said Jax Ryder, the boy who sat behind me. His handsome, rebellious face was dark with annoyance. The girl froze. Jax was the undisputed king of the school. His family was powerful, and no one dared to cross him. She scurried back to her seat, exchanging knowing glances with her friends. Pain shot through me. I bit down hard on my lip, trying to fight back the nausea, my forehead beaded with cold sweat. My brow was furrowed in agony. This wasn’t right. The cancer shouldn’t have progressed this quickly. This felt like the mid-to-late stages. The next thing I knew, the world tilted as I was swept into the air. The screech of my chair scraping against the floor made everyone turn to look. I struggled weakly in Jax’s arms, but he held me tight. The tall, lean boy seemed to have an endless supply of strength. “Stop moving,” he grumbled. He seemed to be seeing me for the first time. “I thought you were just a timid little mouse. Guess even rabbits bite when they’re cornered.” As he carried me down the hall, he sighed. “How are you so light?” We hadn’t even reached the nurse’s office when Neo appeared, blocking our path. His face was contorted with rage. “Seraphina, are you that desperate?” he sneered. “Ditching class to hook up with some guy? I guess you can’t expect someone with no upbringing to have any class. You’re nothing like Pearl.”

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1 For three hours, I stood at a bus stop in a torrential downpour, waiting for Hugh. He never showed. Just as I was about to give up and call a car, I saw the message he’d sent five minutes earlier: Something came up. Can’t make it. A second later, his assistant posted a photo to her Instagram story. The familiar dashboard of his car. The caption read: *Thanks for the ride home, boss! ~* The old me would have blown up his phone, calling and texting, demanding an explanation. But now? I just tapped the screen and liked her post. Later, when I packed my bags and left without a word, he would fall apart, searching for me like a madman. He would beg, “I can change. Just don’t leave me.” … A once-in-a-decade storm hit the city. After work, my colleagues left one by one, until I was the only one left, finishing up a report. A text from Hugh lit up my screen. [The rain’s pretty bad. I’ll come get you.] I knew it was an olive branch. Last weekend was our wedding anniversary. I’d booked our favorite restaurant, but he never arrived. I waited until they were closing, and only then did I see the post from his assistant, Jenna. A photo of Hugh, his chiseled profile sharp in the dim restaurant lighting. The caption: *Happiest birthday ever. Thanks for the treat, boss! ~* When he finally came home, I showed him the picture. He just impatiently pushed my hand away. “She’s a young girl, all alone in the city on her birthday. What’s wrong with me, as her boss, showing a little concern? Stop making a scene! We can celebrate our anniversary any other year, can’t we?” He was right. We could celebrate it any other year. But couldn’t she do the same for her birthday? We hadn’t spoken since. Today was the tenth day. In the past, I would have been the one scheming for a way to make up. A message like this from him would have sent me over the moon. Now, I felt nothing. I simply replied, [Okay.] We had agreed on six. The curb in front of my office was a no-parking zone, so I walked to the bus stop down the street to wait. By nine, the rain was coming down in sheets. Even huddled under the awning, the storm had soaked the cuffs of my pants. And still, no Hugh. I pulled out my phone to call an Uber and saw the notification. A new post from someone I had on ‘close friends.’ It was Jenna. The picture of his dashboard. That limited-edition model—there were only two in the entire city, and one of them was his. Hanging from the rearview mirror was the good luck charm I’d gotten from a little chapel upstate last year. He’d scoffed when I put it there. “This thing is hideous. It clashes with my car’s interior.” I had to beg him just to let it stay. Remembering that, a sudden sense of release washed over me. I liked the post. He wasn’t coming. The rideshare app showed over a hundred people in the queue ahead of me. I glanced down at my damp clothes and turned toward the bike share rack instead. Hugh wasn’t home when I got there. I took a scalding hot shower and chugged a packet of cold medicine, but as I drifted off to sleep, I could already feel a dizzying fever setting in. I was woken sometime later by the sound of the front door opening. Hugh was home. He must have been surprised to find me asleep already. He walked to the side of the bed and just stood there. I could feel his gaze on me, but I felt too sick to move, so I didn’t. After a moment, his footsteps retreated, followed by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. The low hum was like a lullaby, and I drifted back into a heavy sleep. When my alarm went off the next morning, my head was spinning. I fumbled for my phone, unable to turn it off immediately. Hugh let out an irritated “tsk,” and the sound finally jolted me awake. I was burning up. My head throbbed, but I had to lead a major meeting today. I dragged my aching body out of bed and got ready for work. When I got to the office, a coworker saw my flushed face and rushed over, pressing a hand to my forehead before fetching me some fever reducers and a cooling patch. A text from Hugh came through. [Are you mad at me?] I didn’t understand. [Then why didn’t you make me breakfast?] Ever since we got married, I’d made his breakfast every single morning, even during our cold wars. Not that he ever ate it. This morning, in my feverish haze, I had forgotten. But his tone, so matter-of-fact, like he was ordering a servant around, made my brow furrow. I typed back a simple reply. [Forgot. Get something on your way.] I was buried in work for the rest of the day and didn’t look at my phone again. Just before closing time, another message appeared. [I’ll pick you up.] I didn’t argue. I agreed. But after waiting downstairs for half an hour, his car was nowhere in sight. My phone rang. It was Hugh. “Are you downstairs?” I scanned the street. “I’m right by the entrance. I don’t see you.” He let out a heavy sigh on the other end. I knew that sound. It was the sound he made when he was losing his patience with me, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his frustration. He was probably trying to make up for last night, so he reined in his temper and asked, his voice strained, “Did they change the main entrance?” A suspicion began to form in my mind. “Are you at the Sterling Building?” His voice rose, laced with indignation. “Of course I am! You think I don’t know where you work?” He didn’t. Our company had moved to a new office two blocks away from the Sterling Building last year. I had sent him the new address. He’d never even read it. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll get home on my own. It’s all one-way streets around there, it’ll be a nightmare for you to get over here.” He was silent for a moment, then hung up. When I walked through the door, Hugh was already sitting on the sofa. It was a rare sight. Usually, I was the one who got home first, the one who cooked dinner and waited for him. More often than not, the food would go cold, and he still wouldn’t be home. When he finally walked in, I would complain, and he would just look at me with cold eyes. “Do you think my whole world revolves around you? Can’t you just eat by yourself?” “But the food is cold…” “If it’s cold, throw it out. Are you really going to start a fight over something so small?” So I learned to stop saying anything. I’d pack his portion away in a warmer, eat my own dinner alone, and then sit in the living room and wait. Tonight, however, he actually got up as I walked in. He followed me as I took off my coat, explaining, “Sandra, I’ve just been so busy, my head’s a mess. I didn’t mean to go to the wrong place.” “It’s fine,” I said, shrugging off my jacket. He studied my face, then added, “And about yesterday… it was late, and the storm was terrible. Jenna lives so far away… and when we got there, her power was out, so I just helped her fix the breaker.” I nodded, my voice neutral. “Okay.” “Are you angry?” I looked up at him, genuinely confused. “No.” That seemed to be the confirmation he needed. His careful expression hardened into accusation. “Yes, you are. I explained everything, and you’re still acting like this. You didn’t even make breakfast, and now you’re giving me the cold shoulder!” It dawned on me then. The old me would have had a complete meltdown over the last two days. Scenes like this had played out countless times over our four-year marriage. And every single time, he would stand back and watch me, silent, as if I were some unhinged actress in a bad play. Looking back, I must have looked pathetic. No wonder he never wanted to come home. But right now, I truly felt no anger. I was just exhausted from working a full day while sick. “If that’s all, I’m going to take a bath.” He stepped closer. “I’ll join you.” “No, thanks. I have a cold. I don’t feel well.” I pulled my arm from his grasp and went straight into the bathroom. A moment later, I heard the front door slam shut. He was gone again. And so, another cold war began. Before, these silences would have sent me into a panic. I’d be a nervous wreck, constantly looking for an excuse to break the tension, like “accidentally” sending him a message and then quickly deleting it. He rarely responded. He never asked what the deleted message said. If I called, he wouldn’t answer. My work would suffer as I obsessed over how to fix things, counting the minutes until I could go home. But now? I felt a profound sense of relief. Being sick, all I wanted was a good night’s sleep, but Hugh’s late-night returns always woke me up. Now, he was sleeping in the guest room, and I could sleep through the night. I stopped cooking dinner for him. He wouldn’t eat it anyway. The project I was leading was entering its most critical phase. I started grabbing breakfast on the go and eating dinner at the office before staying a little later to work. It saved me so much time. I threw myself completely into my work, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Ever since we got married, my entire world had revolved around Hugh. I’d text him constantly, asking what he was doing, telling him I missed him, that I loved him. He rarely replied, but I never stopped. I hardly ever worked late, always rushing home to cook. But he was always busy—either with work or with friends. I could count on one hand the number of times a month he was home for dinner. Now that he was no longer the center of my universe, my life felt lighter. My work improved dramatically. When the project finally wrapped up successfully, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I opened up my social media for the first time in weeks, only then remembering I had unfollowed Jenna. Curiosity got the better of me. Sure enough, while Hugh and I were in our “cold war,” he had been by her side. They went camping at the beach. She’d gone to a party with him and his closest friends. He looked so happy. The old me would have been on the phone immediately, screaming at him. He would offer a half-hearted explanation, then grow irritated with my “melodrama,” and the fight would end with him storming out of the house. But now, looking at these photos, so clearly meant to provoke me, I felt absolutely nothing. I even had the presence of mind to go through and like every single one. Because of the project’s success, the company was offering me a promotion. The new position was in B City. I had been hesitant, but now, my mind was made up. Leaving the office that evening, I was surprised to see Hugh waiting outside. “I had a meeting nearby,” he said by way of explanation. I opened the passenger door, and there was Jenna. Her smile was sickly sweet. “Sandra! Long time no see. I was just having dinner with Hugh, and he’s giving me a ride home. You don’t mind, do you?” I smiled back. “Not at all.” I closed the passenger door and opened the one behind it, sliding into the back seat. Hugh got in and looked back, confused. He hesitated, then explained, “Jenna gets carsick. It’s better for her in the front.” I just nodded. He glanced at me again, then turned back to the wheel, a frown creasing his forehead. He must have been baffled. I rarely rode in his car, but whenever I did, I was always in the passenger seat. I had once declared it “the wife seat.” He’d rolled his eyes, calling me dramatic. “It’s just a seat,” he’d said. “What’s the difference?” I just wanted to be next to him. That was the only difference. Jenna chattered away in the front, talking about people and projects at his company. I didn’t know any of them and couldn’t get a word in, so I just closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I must have drifted off, because I was startled when Jenna turned around to ask me, “Sandra, how come you didn’t come to Dave’s birthday party the other night?” Dave’s birthday? I opened my eyes. No one had invited me. “I didn’t know he was having one,” I said softly. Jenna feigned surprise. “Really? But you know how close he and Hugh are.” I just smiled and said nothing. Dave and Hugh were like brothers. Last month, when Hugh got back from an international trip, he hadn’t come home. He’d gone straight from the airport to go stargazing with Jenna in the mountains. When I’d called Dave, frantic, he’d covered for his friend. He didn’t know I’d already seen Jenna’s post. That fight had ended with me in tears and Hugh checking into a hotel for three days. After Jenna spoke, Hugh glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression guilty. I ignored him and closed my eyes again. The takeout I ordered arrived at the same time we did. I changed my clothes and sat down to eat. Hugh came out of the bathroom and asked, “Where’s mine?” I looked up, surprised. “I thought you already ate.” His face froze for a second. He sat down across from me, looking like he wanted to say something. The old me would have immediately asked what was wrong. Now, I just wanted to enjoy my food in peace. Finally, he spoke. “About Dave’s birthday… we were still fighting, so I…” I cut him off. “It’s a small thing. It’s in the past. Let’s just drop it.” A flicker of shock crossed his face. He had said those exact words to me more than once. Most recently, at dinner with Dave, when I’d asked Dave why he’d lied to me. Dave had looked at Hugh, then back at me with a smirk. “Sandra, I was just trying to keep the peace, you know?” When I tried to press the issue, Hugh had snapped, “It was weeks ago. Are you ever going to let it go?” After dinner, Hugh showed no signs of leaving. I took the opportunity to pull the divorce papers my lawyer had drawn up from my bag. He glanced at the heading and let out a bitter, angry laugh. “What is this? Threatening divorce again?” He threw the papers on the floor at my feet. I picked them up and held them out to him again. “I’m serious.” “Do you get some kind of sick pleasure out of all this drama?” I didn’t say another word. Anything more would just lead to another screaming match. He slammed the door on his way out. I didn’t care where he went or what he did. I calmly placed the papers on his desk in the study and went back to browsing real estate listings for B City. Hugh didn’t come home that night. I was glad to have the place to myself. The next day, he was there to pick me up after work again. I didn’t refuse. It was a luxury I hadn’t been afforded in years; no point in being difficult about it now. I opened the back door and got in. A strange expression crossed Hugh’s face. “Sandra, why are you sitting… back there?” I looked at him, confused. “It’s just a seat. What’s the difference?” “Just… come sit up front.” I shrugged and moved to the passenger seat. Something hard was digging into my hip. I pulled it out. It was a tube of lipstick. Hugh immediately started stammering. “That must be Jenna’s. She’s so careless, always leaving things behind…” His voice trailed off as he saw the look on my face. I held it out to him. “Then make sure you give it back to her. That brand is expensive.” “I swear, I didn’t know it was there… There’s nothing going on between us…” I cut him off. “Hugh. It doesn’t matter.” “What?” “I said, it doesn’t matter. Whether there’s something going on with you and Jenna… I don’t really care anymore.” The color drained from his face. I turned to look out the window, ending the conversation. From that day on, Hugh started picking me up every day. He stopped going out with his friends. And every day, I would leave a fresh, signed copy of the divorce agreement on the coffee table in the living room. He acted like he didn’t see it, and I didn’t press him. It was inevitable. If I seemed too eager, he would just accuse me of playing games, of trying to manipulate him. One day, as soon as I got in the car, Hugh said, “We got Dave’s nephew into that school. He wants to take us to dinner to say thank you.” Dave’s nephew had been trying to get into a prestigious international kindergarten. I happened to know the director, so Dave had asked me for a favor. If he hadn’t mentioned it, I would have completely forgotten. At the restaurant, Dave handed me a glass of wine. “Sandra, you’re a lifesaver. My sister has been stressing about this for months.” I smiled and accepted the glass, though I didn’t drink. “It was no big deal.” Before our appetizers arrived, a familiar face appeared. “I thought I recognized your voices!” Jenna said, walking over to our table. “Hugh! Dave! Fancy seeing you here.” Then, as if she’d only just noticed me, her smile tightened. “Oh. Sandra’s here too.” She turned back to Hugh, her voice taking on a whiny, girlish tone. “My friend bailed on me. Can I join you guys? Please?” Hugh glanced at me, hesitating. I smiled brightly. “Of course. The more the merrier.” Dave shot me a surprised look. “Hugh, can you peel a crab for me?” Jenna asked, pouting. Then she looked at me. “I bet Hugh does this for you all the time, right, Sandra? Whenever we eat crab, he always says I’m too clumsy, so he just does it for me.” She smiled sweetly. Anyone watching would have thought they were the couple. I had asked Hugh to do that for me once, after seeing another woman’s boyfriend do it for her. He’d just scoffed. “You’re not a child. You have hands.” “But it’s what other husbands do,” I’d argued. “Am I your servant? Can’t you do it yourself?” The table next to us had looked over, and I’d shrunk in my seat, my face burning with shame. I never asked again. I had no idea he was doing it for Jenna. As she was about to say more, Hugh cut her off sharply. He turned to me, his voice low. “She doesn’t really know how… I just help her out sometimes…” I didn’t look up from my plate. “Oh,” I said, picking at my food. “Well, you should help her then.” My response clearly wasn’t the one he wanted. His face darkened. In the end, he didn’t peel a crab for anyone. “Hugh…” Jenna whined. “There’s plenty of other food,” he snapped. “Eat something else.” That weekend, I took the train to B City to look at apartments. I left early, while Hugh was still asleep. I was standing outside a potential building when he called. “Where are you?” I didn’t answer his question directly. “What’s up?” He seemed fixated on the answer. “I asked where you are.” I lied without thinking. “I’m at the office. Working overtime. Why?” His voice was tight, like he was gritting his teeth. “I’m standing right outside your office building. I just asked the guard. No one is working today.” I simply went silent. He didn’t hang up.

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To get the school bad boy’s attention, the Prom Queen paid me a hundred grand to publicly bully her. “If you bully me, he’ll be heartbroken. He’ll definitely step in to protect me!” So, I blocked the Prom Queen at the school gate and screamed: “Just because you’re pretty, rich, and have good grades doesn’t mean you’re special! Stop acting like a princess!” She cried like a tragic heroine, attracting the whole school’s attention. On my way home, the bad boy’s Bentley cut me off. I was about to kneel and apologize when he handed me a platinum card. “Nice work. I’ve hated that little pick-me girl for ages.” “There’s a hundred and fifty grand in there. I’m hiring you to be my girlfriend. Keep destroying her.” 01 I stared at the bank card in front of me, my brain short-circuiting for a second. I looked up like a confused golden retriever. “Huh?” My head was still full of Chloe—our school’s resident princess—gushing about him earlier. “Maya, you don’t get the romance of rich kids like us. Jax likes me, and I like him, but we’re both too proud. Whoever confesses first loses.” “But if you bully me, he’ll be so distressed he’ll have to save me!” Looking at Jax now, leaning against his Bentley, I asked blankly, “I bullied her. Aren’t you mad?” Jax clicked his tongue. “Mad? It was satisfying as hell. You don’t know how annoying she is. Two days ago, she climbed through my window at midnight to deliver ‘homemade love snacks.’ I almost had a heart attack. I said I didn’t want it, she shoved it in my mouth. I had food poisoning all night.” Even though Chloe had serious Main Character Syndrome, to be fair, she hadn’t actually done anything bad to me. Plus, she gave me $100,000. But I firmly believe in customer service. Since I took the money, I needed to play the villain role perfectly to push their toxic romance forward. So, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and let out a cold laugh. “You aren’t even going to ask why I bullied her? I’ll tell you the truth. I’m jealous. She’s rich, pretty, smart, and popular. Do you still feel satisfied now?” Jax gave me a thumbs up. “Honesty is a virtue. A villain admits their jealousy, but a pick-me girl hides it. You just casually admitted your dark psychology. You’re a legend.” Me: “…” Jax crossed his arms, sizing me up, clearly plotting something. “Maya, I appreciate you. Here’s the deal: from now until graduation, you pretend to be my girlfriend. Your job is to keep Chloe away from me. Name your price for the hardship fee.” 02 After saying goodbye to Jax, I walked home with two bank cards, my heart pounding like a drum. I’d already checked the ATM. Between the two cards, I had a quarter of a million dollars. It was an astronomical figure for someone like me. I never expected my life to get this spicy. On one side, I’m the fake villain, the wingman for the beautiful Prom Queen’s romance. On the other side, I’m the fake girlfriend, the bodyguard for the single-since-birth bad boy. I came to this high school to get into college, not to become a double agent. But after the excitement faded, reality hit. Being a double agent is dangerous. If this blows up, I’m getting beat up twice. Chloe is one thing, but looking at Jax—6’2″, muscular build—if he punches me, I’m engaging in immediate dialogue with God. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed with dark circles under my eyes, deciding to return the money for the sake of my life expectancy. But the moment I stepped into the classroom, I was surrounded. I go to a famous private school. Great campus, top-tier teachers, insane tuition. To boost their Ivy League acceptance rates, the school recruits a few top-scoring students every year. Tuitions waived, scholarships granted. I am one of the “charity cases.” I thought I was on the path to success, but I walked straight into a caste system. These kids are rich, watch too many dramas, and form cliques. They don’t respect teachers, let alone a broke nobody like me. Plus, I have a “pushover” face. So, bullying me is basically their team-building exercise. “Yo, Maya’s here,” my desk-mate sneered, looking at my shoes. “Didn’t I tell you? Wearing knock-offs is fine, just don’t wear the same style as me. Are you brain-dead or deaf? Why haven’t you changed them?” Before I could speak, the gym rep laughed. “Forget the shoes. Come on, Maya. I’m taking you somewhere fun.” My desk-mate looked at him. “Where? The boys’ locker room? Ew.” The group laughed as the gym rep hoisted me up by my collar like a chicken. I struggled, but it was useless. Dammit. I forgot the gym rep is Chloe’s number one simp. If I knew being a villain paid in bruises, I wouldn’t have taken the job. As we neared the locker room, I panicked and screamed: “If you touch me, I’ll tell Jax to beat you up!” The gym rep scoffed. “Jax doesn’t give a crap about you.” “Why wouldn’t he? He’s my boyfriend!” The gym rep paused, then dragged me toward Class 2. “Make way! The bad boy’s girlfriend is here!” He shouted it out, drawing a crowd. Jax was leaning against the podium, chatting. Seeing me being dragged in, his brows furrowed, and he strode over. The gym rep smirked. “Jax, Maya claims she’s your girl. You know about this?” I looked at Jax nervously, terrified he’d woken up sober and realized I wasn’t up to his standards. Instead, Jax pulled me down, then raised his leg and delivered a clean, brutal kick to the gym rep’s chest. The guy flew back six feet and didn’t get up. “You knew she was my girlfriend and you still touched her? Did I give you permission to breathe?” Jax’s face was dark. He grabbed the guy by the collar and punched him in the gut. “Apologize to my girlfriend.” Nobody messes with the heir to the Fu Corporation. The gym rep, clutching his stomach, wheezed out, “Sorry.” Everyone’s eyes snapped to me. I channeled my inner villain, lifted my chin, and stood next to Jax. “I’ll let it slide this time. Next time you mess with me, Jax will shank you.” Jax whispered in my ear, “Let’s not go that far.” “Right. Shank you, then throw you in the ocean to feed the sharks,” I nodded. Jax: “…” Just then, a scream pierced the air. Chloe came running, grabbing Jax’s arm and shaking it frantically. “What did you say? Who is your girlfriend?! Jax, explain yourself!” Jax pushed me forward and declared, “Her.” He winked at me frantically. Start working, bodyguard. I was riding the tiger now; I couldn’t get off. I grabbed Chloe. “Let’s talk privately.” I dragged her to the rooftop, locked the door, and immediately slid to my knees, hugging her legs. “Sis, let me explain!” “AHHHH!” Chloe screamed. “You evil witch! You seduced Jax! I’m going to stab you!” Me: “Not necessary, not necessary.” She started hammering my back with her tiny fists. “It is necessary!” “Listen to me!” I grabbed her wrists. “You’re missing the big picture. Look at you—supermodel looks. Look at me—average four-eyes. Jax isn’t blind. Who do you think he really wants?” Chloe calmed down, thinking. “Me?” “Obviously! He only said I’m his girlfriend to stimulate you! He wants you to be jealous!” Chloe’s face lit up instantly. “Oh! Like in the novels! I wouldn’t confess, so he found a villainess to trigger me. Our minds are totally in sync!” Me: “…Yes. Exactly. So what’s your next move?” Chloe sighed. “I guess I should just confess.” “NO!” I yelled. “You can’t talk to him!” If they get together now, who’s going to protect me from the gym rep? And I need to survive until graduation to pay them back. Chloe frowned. “Why?” “Love is like mochi,” I improvised. “The more you beat it, the chewier it gets. If you get together too easily, it’s boring. You need obstacles to solidify the bond.” Chloe nodded, entranced. “I will sacrifice my reputation and go full evil villainess. The more I bully you, the more pained he’ll feel. The more pain, the more love. Eventually—BOOM! He’ll explode, grab you at the school gate, and force a kiss on you!” “AHHH!” Chloe stomped her feet, blushing. “Then I’ll run away crying, get hit by a car, and he’ll kneel at my hospital bed begging for forgiveness. Classic redemption arc!” I gave her a thumbs up. “Foolproof.” 03 On the way down, students stared. Chloe had already entered her “tragic heroine” era. She looked at me, eyes teary. “Maya… sorry I was mean to you before.” I immediately switched to “evil villain” mode. I sneered. “If you know you were wrong, fix your attitude. Tsk, arguing with you made me miss breakfast. Go to the cafeteria. Two meat buns, soy milk, one tea egg. No sugar in the soy milk.” Chloe glanced at Jax, bit her lip, eyes red, sniffled, and trotted downstairs to buy my breakfast. Jax craned his neck watching her go, then whispered to me. “Holy crap. How did you do that? She didn’t throw a fit?” I whispered back. “She did. But I don’t play that. I grabbed her by the hair and told her if she acts up, I’ll have you deal with her. Told her I’m the favorite now. She got scared.” Jax looked at me with pure reverence. “A true Queen walks among us.” 04 Our whispering confirmed my status as the “Big Sister.” Back in class, my desk-mate had cleaned the insults off my desk and peeled my tea egg for me. I sipped my soy milk. “Do I still need to change my shoes?” “No, no! Keep them!” she said quickly. “Authentic ones give me blisters anyway. Yours look way comfier. You have great taste.” Wow. Being the boss’s girl rocks. I finished my breakfast and studied in peace all morning. It was glorious. But by lunch, I was summoned to the homeroom teacher’s office. The bully clique was led by my desk-mate, and Mr. Higgins was her distant relative. He got his job through her family, so he usually ignored my suffering. “Maya, you’ve got some nerve!” Mr. Higgins slammed his thermos on the desk. “Openly dating? Making a scene? I thought you were a good kid, but your morals are corrupt! Call your parents. Now!” I looked distressed. “My guardian can’t come.” “Can’t come? Then you’re suspended until they can!” He shouted so loud the whole hallway heard. I walked out, defeated. My desk-mate and her friends snickered and ran off. I texted my brother, Leo. He’s three years older, in college nearby. People say the eldest brother is like a father, but Leo is also the mother. Our dad is in prison. Mom died early. We grew up in a rural village where everyone hated us because of Dad. Leo took me to the county seat, then the city. He worked odd jobs to feed me while studying. We both survived on scholarships. He hates complaining. If he says he’s “a bit busy,” it means he hasn’t slept in two days. Leo replied: A bit busy. Miss me? I’ll visit when I can. Just sent you $50. Buy those shoes you wanted. I covered my face. I couldn’t burden him. Just then, Chloe shimmied up to me. “Hey, bestie! At lunch, go sit with Jax. I’ll walk by with soup, and you push me down. Warn me to stay away from him. Genius, right?” I looked at her deadpan. “What is this crap?” Chloe: “?” “Sorry, slip of the tongue. I meant, what is this plot?” “The ‘Chase Wife Crematorium’ arc!” (A popular Chinese romance trope where the guy grovels). I was stressed about the parent meeting. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. “That’s weak,” I grabbed her hand. “Here’s the play: Make your mom accept me as her goddaughter! I steal all your mother’s love. You lick your wounds in a corner. If Jax has any humanity, he’ll comfort you!” Chloe gasped. “Omg. You’re a genius. The layers! The drama!” “Yes! Hurry, get your mom to handle Mr. Higgins.”

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Through the rearview mirror, I watched as the boy I grew up with was dragged by the car for over two hundred meters. His body was a canvas of scrapes and bruises, but his hand was clamped around the door handle, refusing to let go. With a sigh of resignation, I lowered the window, giving him a chance to speak. “That video… I saw it.” “I’m sorry, Echo. I… I honestly didn’t know that was the truth…” “So, now you know,” I cut him off, my voice cold. “I’m an asshole! I shouldn’t have doubted you. I never should have said those horrible things to you…” He took a desperate step forward, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Echo, please, yell at me, hit me, I don’t care. Just… don’t shut me out. Don’t leave me.” “I really know I was wrong.” Watching him sob, my heart remained a placid lake, without a single ripple of emotion. I slowly lifted my head and asked him one last question. “David, do you remember that priority seat?” 1 I’ve had a severe heart condition since I was a child, which means weekly trips to the hospital for check-ups. One day, on the subway ride back with David, my childhood best friend, we ran into the new transfer student. There was only one empty seat left, right next to him. Just as I was about to sit, the new girl timidly grabbed my arm. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice small. “I’m a little anemic.” “That priority seat… could I possibly have it?” I almost laughed. The damsel-in-distress act was a little too obvious. I prepared a simple, direct refusal. “Sorry, but I can’t…” Before I could finish, David interrupted. “Echo, just let her have it.” “I know your heart condition means you can’t stand for long, but I’ve gotten you a seat so many times. What’s one more time?” I froze. Obediently, I gave up the seat. It wasn’t until the third time he came to walk me to school, only to find I’d already left, that he finally seemed to get it. “It was just a seat. Is it really worth being like this over?” I bit my lip. “You’re right. It was just one seat. So why couldn’t you have given it to me?” My question left him stunned. David never expected me, the girl who was always so easygoing around him, to push back like that. It took him a moment to find his voice, a new edge of annoyance in it. “What kind of attitude is that? Lily wasn’t feeling well. You knew that.” I was done arguing. I turned and headed upstairs to my apartment. His voice rose behind me. “Echo Shen! Are you really going to drag this out over something so small?” I didn’t look back. After that, a cold war began between us. I started deliberately avoiding him at school, walking to and from class alone. He never made an effort to approach me either. The thread that had tied us together since we were kids seemed to have suddenly gone slack. During Monday’s literature class, the teacher announced a group project. The second she finished speaking, two of David’s best friends swarmed his desk. Normally, I would have been the fourth member. I was gathering my books, waiting for them to call me over. But when I looked up, I saw Lily standing hesitantly by David’s desk, nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. She summoned her courage and whispered, “David… I just transferred, so I don’t know many people… Is your group full?” His friends immediately started teasing him. “Whoa, look at you, man. A pretty girl is asking to join.” David was clearly flattered. Without even a glance in my direction, he answered in a voice dripping with gentleness, “Of course. Welcome to the group.” I was frozen in place, the textbook in my hand hovering over my backpack. Throughout the entire exchange, David never once looked at me, as if I didn’t exist. His friends seemed to have forgotten that their tight-knit little group was supposed to include me. After Lily sat down, she acted as if she had just noticed I was there. She covered her mouth with her hand, her face a mask of innocence. “Oh no… did I take Echo’s spot? I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t know…” “Maybe Echo should join instead. I can work by myself. My grades aren’t very good, I don’t want to drag you all down…” Before I could respond, David frowned in my direction, his tone impatient. “Echo, your grades are good enough to do this project on your own. Lily just got here. She needs help.” Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. I stuffed my textbook into my bag, stood up, and silently walked to the other side of the classroom. The rest of the students had already formed their groups. Only a few of the academically struggling kids, the ones nobody wanted to team up with, were left scattered around. I calmly took an empty seat among them. “Let’s be a group,” I said. 2 After that day, my situation in class became a bit awkward. My new groupmates were a motley crew. One slept through every class, another was lost in fantasy novels, and the third, bless his heart, actually wanted to learn but would just stare at a problem for half an hour without writing a single word. I broke down the project into tiny, manageable tasks, assigning each of them specific research to do and showing them how to organize it. It was the only way to make any progress. The process was exhausting—far more work than if I’d just done it myself. I had to constantly monitor my heart rate, reminding myself not to get anxious, not to get angry. The doctor said emotional spikes were bad for me. Meanwhile, David’s group was the life of the party. Lily might not have known anything, but she knew how to ask for help. During every break, you could see her leaning over David’s desk, her textbook open, pointing at a page and asking questions in a soft, sweet voice. David was incredibly patient, breaking down a single problem for her multiple times. His two friends would stand by, cheering them on. I ignored their noise, focusing on re-organizing the messy, error-filled notes my own group had submitted. This strange new dynamic peaked during gym class. Because of my heart, I couldn’t do anything strenuous, so I usually just rested on the sidelines. Coincidentally, Lily had also excused herself that week, once again citing anemia. So there we were, the two of us, sitting alone on the bleachers overlooking the sprawling field. She scooted closer, settling next to me. “Echo,” she began, hugging her knees and looking at me from the side. “Are you still mad at me?” I didn’t say anything. She continued as if I had. “I know David is really good to you. You two grew up together… I guess I’m just… really envious. I’m new here, I don’t have any friends. When he was nice to me, I couldn’t help but want to get closer.” As she spoke, her eyes started to well up. “Have I caused you a lot of trouble?” Before I could figure out how to respond, the halftime whistle blew for the basketball game. David pulled the hem of his jersey up to wipe the sweat from his face and jogged over to us, carrying two bottles of water. The sunlight cast a golden halo around him, making him seem impossibly bright. He stopped in front of us, naturally twisted the cap off one bottle, and handed it to Lily. “Here, drink this.” Then, he placed the other, unopened bottle on the bleacher next to me. “You okay?” he asked casually. “Your face is pale.” Lily took small sips, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “David, that three-pointer you made was amazing!” David grinned, about to reply, when Lily suddenly swayed. The water bottle slipped from her hand, tipping directly onto me. Ice-cold water soaked half of my pants. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Echo!” Lily yelped, jumping up and fumbling to wipe the water off me. But then her own ankle seemed to twist, and she stumbled backward. Instinctively, David caught her, pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice was laced with an urgency I’d never heard from him. “I… I’m fine,” Lily whispered, leaning against his chest, her face even paler than mine. “Just a little dizzy… my vision’s going dark…” Without another word, David swept her up into his arms, his brow deeply furrowed. As he walked past me, he seemed to remember I was there and paused, looking back. I sat on the cold bleacher, my pants dripping, the chilling water seeping into my skin. I looked at him, expecting him to at least ask if I was alright. He didn’t. His eyes held only a heavy weight of disappointment and blame. “Echo,” he said, his voice frigid. “Lily isn’t well. Couldn’t you have at least watched out for her? I never thought you could become such a cold person.” Then, he turned and strode toward the nurse’s office without a second glance. The whispers of the other students washed over me like a tide. I sat there, motionless, feeling a familiar, tight clenching in my chest. 3 After that day, it felt like I was getting lazier. Too lazy to talk, too lazy to argue, too lazy to even look at David anymore. I walked home alone after gym class, the autumn wind creeping up my still-damp pant leg, a chill that reached deep into my heart. I didn’t text him. I didn’t wait for him. The next day at school, David did something unusual. He came over to my desk and placed a carton of warm milk on it. “Yesterday… Lily didn’t mean it. You know how she is, her health comes and goes. Don’t take it to heart.” I looked at him and suddenly felt so tired of it all. Truly, I was just done. In his eyes, I was probably the one who didn’t need looking after. Heart condition? There’s a pill for that. Misunderstood? I was good with words; I could clear things up myself. The bond we’d shared since childhood had made him take all my strength and resilience for granted. I picked up the milk, placed it back on his desk, and said softly, “Thanks, but I already had some.” Then I turned back around, opened my English textbook, and started memorizing vocabulary. David stood behind me for a moment. He probably felt like he’d lost face, because he eventually took the milk and walked away. I heard Lily’s soft voice drift over from his desk. “David, what’s wrong? Is Echo still mad?” From that day on, I completely withdrew from their world. I no longer waited for him after class. The second the final bell rang, I’d be the first one out the door with my backpack. During group discussions, I stopped offering opinions. I’d just assign the tasks, and if someone didn’t finish their part, I’d stay up late and do it myself. David finally seemed to notice something was seriously wrong. He cornered me a few times, asking if I was still mad about those “little things.” I just shook my head. “No. Exams are coming up. I need to focus on studying.” He looked at me with an expression of confusion and unfamiliarity. He was used to me chasing after him, pestering him with questions, getting worked up over the smallest things. My current calmness was unsettling for him. But I truly had no energy left to fight. My heart couldn’t take it, and neither could my pride. What finally gave me a new sense of direction was a poster on the school bulletin board. A city-wide English speech competition. The theme was “The Power of Silence.” I stood in front of that poster for a long time. The Power of Silence. Those words cut through the fog in my mind like a bolt of lightning. That’s right. Why was I trying to argue with words? Language is the most powerless tool, especially when you’re talking to someone who refuses to listen. Real power never comes from screaming or demanding. It comes from quiet action, from focused growth. I tore off a corner of the sign-up sheet, went back to my desk, and carefully filled in my name. The moment I handed it in, I felt my fickle heart finally find a steady, powerful rhythm. I poured all my energy into it. During every lunch break, I’d go up to the school rooftop and practice my pronunciation and intonation, my voice carrying over the empty field. At night, I’d lock myself in my room, researching, writing, editing, and then starting all over again. During this time, Lily’s popularity in class soared. She’d bring water to the boys after they played basketball and help the struggling girls with their homework. When she got stuck on a problem, she’d naturally turn to David for help. The two of them, heads bent together over a book, looked perfectly in sync. Once, in the hallway, I was carrying a stack of books and walked past them. Lily saw me and made a point of stopping David, her voice just loud enough for me to hear. “David, look at Echo. She’s been studying so hard lately. She barely talks to us anymore.” David’s gaze fell on me, his expression unreadable. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t look at them. I walked straight past. The night before the finals, I stayed late in the empty classroom for one last run-through. Moonlight streamed through the windows, stretching my shadow long across the floor. I faced the blackboard and recited my entire speech from memory, every pause, every gesture committed to heart. When I finished, I let out a long breath, feeling a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was packing my things, about to turn off the lights and leave, when the classroom door creaked open. Lily stood there, holding a steaming cup of coffee, a pure, harmless smile on her face. “Echo, still preparing so late? I brought you some coffee to help you stay awake.”

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1 My last ride of the day was my ex-wife, who I hadn’t seen in seven years. She had changed so much. Dressed head-to-toe in designer brands, the jade bracelet on her wrist alone was worth eight figures. Through the car window, she whipped off her sunglasses, her voice catching. “Noah Vance… you’re alive?” I averted my gaze, pulling the surgical mask higher on my face. My voice was flat. “Are you the rider with the phone number ending in 1793?” Shannon bent down and slid into the passenger seat, her eyes never leaving me. Her expression was a storm of conflicting emotions. “After you escaped from the psychiatric hospital… why didn’t you come back to me?” Her voice faltered, a barely perceptible tremor in it. “These past years… have you been okay?” I didn’t answer her. I just silently pulled down my mask. A patchwork of burn scars covered my face, blurring the features she once knew. The torture, the days where death seemed a mercy, had been enough to burn away all the love and hate I ever felt for Shannon. … Shannon’s gaze was fixed on me. Throughout the drive, she opened her mouth to speak several times. But each time she looked at my face, the words died in her throat. Finally, she looked down, her voice barely a whisper. “After the fire… I looked for you.” I stared straight ahead at the traffic light, one hand on the steering wheel, and said nothing. Her lips trembled, but she pressed on. “During the search and rescue, they couldn’t find any survivors. We all thought you were dead.” My fingers tightened on the wheel. Hearing about my own death from someone else’s lips was a special kind of irony. I gave her a noncommittal reply. “Still breathing.” Shannon sensed my cold, detached attitude. She clutched her Chanel bag, and the words failed her again. The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating. Following the GPS, I drove into an upscale neighborhood in the heart of the city. Before I could even unlock the doors, a child’s voice chirped from outside. “Mommy! Daddy and I missed you! You promised to take me to the amusement park!” A little girl ran at full speed and threw herself into Shannon’s arms. Shannon’s face softened into a smile as she kissed the girl’s cheek. “How about tomorrow? Pinky promise.” In seven years, Shannon had remarried and had a child. She was living a life that was a universe away from mine. The man beside her, Evan, was smiling, until his eyes landed on me. I saw a flicker of pure shock in his eyes. “Mentor? Is that you? You’re still alive.” Everyone seemed shocked that I was alive. And no one seemed particularly happy about it. Evan took Shannon’s hand and led the child over. “Annie, this is Daddy’s mentor. Go on, say hello.” My fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. A tremor went through me. That name. It was the one Shannon and I had chosen together. A boy would be Arthur, a girl, Anna. Shannon had spent three days and nights poring over a dictionary to find those names. But the child we were supposed to have… we lost it. As I was lost in thought, the little girl saw the charred, puckered skin on my face and burst into tears. Shannon immediately scooped her up, cooing softly, her hand covering the child’s eyes. Evan’s lips curved into a smirk. When he looked at me, his eyes were full of smug triumph. “Sorry about that, Mentor. Annie’s still young. She’s probably just a little scared of you.” “To make up for it, why don’t you come inside? It’s been too long.” My expression didn’t change. His thinly veiled insults didn’t faze me. Who would have thought that Evan, who once couldn’t even afford a decent set of clothes, now lived in the most expensive, exclusive villa complex in the city? When I didn’t respond, Evan’s smile faltered, and he looked down, his voice laced with false apology. “Mentor, are you angry with me… for marrying Shannon?” “You were gone for seven years. She was crying every single day. I couldn’t bear to see her like that, so I…” I cut him off, my voice calm. “Do I know you? Why would I be angry with you?” The expression on his face froze. Even Shannon took a hesitant step forward. I could see the guilt in her eyes. “I know you’re still angry with me, but what happened back then…” She wanted to explain, but any explanation would be laughably inadequate. “The way you are now… if there’s anything you need, I’ll help you.” “No, thank you.” Perhaps back then, when I was locked away in that hospital, I really did need her help. Every day, every night, I begged them to let me see her, just once. But now? Why would I hold out hope for the person who personally threw me into hell? 2 After leaving the complex, I parked in a lot not far from my apartment. I put my mask back on and kept my head down, avoiding the curious stares of passersby. Before I could react, someone slammed into my side. “Watch where you’re going! Don’t you have eyes? Young people these days, so reckless!” The sharp, biting tone stopped the apology on my lips. I looked up. My heart skipped a beat. It was my mother. She saw my face, didn’t recognize me, and took a few disgusted steps back. Her friend tugged on her sleeve. “Let’s go, let’s go. What bad luck.” I stood frozen as they walked away. In seven years, her hair had grayed, but her personality was the same. Caustic, cold, and cruel. The cold night wind bit at my skin. I shivered, rubbing my arms, and hurried home. The apartment was quiet. I’d been living alone for the past few days. I took off my thin jacket. In the bathroom, the mirror reflected the hideous scars on my back. That spot… was where my mother had once carved her disownment into my skin. The Vance family had produced a single heir for eight generations, each one a giant in the world of chess. That included me. At the time, I had just won my thirty-second international championship. My list of accolades was endless. Everyone agreed my achievements had surpassed my father’s, even my grandfather’s. And on that same day, I married Shannon. They all envied me. Even I believed my life was charmed. Until I met Evan, who at the time couldn’t even afford his tuition. I offered him a lifeline. I sponsored his living expenses, taught him chess, and took him on as my protégé. Evan was smart. He knew how to charm my mother and how to evoke Shannon’s pity. But slowly, everything began to change. At first, it was just Shannon mentioning him more often. Then, she started making him lunch every day, memorizing all his dietary habits. When I questioned her, she just laughed and called me paranoid. “Evan is your protégé. I’m his mentor’s wife. He’s had a hard enough life. It’s only right that I look after him.” Until the third month of Shannon’s pregnancy, when there was an accident, and the baby was gone. When I heard the news, I was overseas. I flew back immediately, not sleeping for dozens of hours. I messaged Shannon nonstop, but there was no reply. When I finally rushed to the hospital, I found her sobbing in Evan’s arms. I had never seen her so fragile. Evan was comforting her, his hands gently stroking her back, as if she were a precious, breakable treasure. I froze, staring at the scene before me. When my mother arrived, she slapped me across the face. “You’re not worth a fraction of him!” That day, it felt like I lost more than just a child. The icy splash of tap water on my face pulled me back to the present. I turned on the shower, trying to wash away the old scars on my back with cold water. After nearly an hour, my skin was red and swollen. When I stepped out of the bathroom, a text message popped up on my phone. Mom’s 70th birthday is the day after tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up. There was no name attached, but I knew it was Shannon. I stared at the message for a long time. After escaping that fire, I had spent countless days and nights wondering. What did my mother see me as? A son, or a tool to bring the family honor and money? I looked down, my fingers tapping on the screen. Okay. 3 Two days later, I was in the back seat of Shannon’s car, watching the scenery fly by. Evan, in the passenger seat, spoke up, his voice loud. “I didn’t think you’d agree to come, Mentor.” I didn’t respond. Shannon’s eyes kept finding mine in the rearview mirror. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft breathing of the sleeping child. “Evan… Mom adopted him as her godson,” Shannon explained, her voice stiff. The hand supporting my head tensed. I lowered my gaze and said nothing. My mother’s 70th birthday banquet was being held at the most luxurious hotel in the capital. The guest list was a who’s who of the city’s elite. My reflection in the glass doors showed a man in a loose, ill-fitting suit. The scars on his face were a grotesque map. Compared to them, I was a ghost at the feast. I followed behind Shannon, and the stares immediately found me. Until my mother appeared. When she saw Shannon and the child in her arms, her face broke into a wide, happy smile. “Mom, I brought Noah back. He’s alive,” Shannon said, stepping forward. “I thought… he should come home.” I glanced at her, at the desperate way she was trying to explain. It was almost funny. Was she trying to assuage her own guilt, or did she genuinely want me back? I had no idea. My mother’s gaze followed Shannon’s and landed on me. There was no shock in her eyes, no surprise. Only disgust. “I have no son like him!” Even though I knew it was coming, a sharp pain lanced through my heart. “Mom.” The word had been on the tip of my tongue for seven years. That day was the last tournament before my birthday. My opponent was Evan. The match was being broadcast live, screens everywhere showing our faces. My mother was in the audience, as always. But that day, she didn’t seem to see me. Her eyes kept darting to Evan, cheering him on. Shannon, too. No one expected me to win. I played with a rare focus. Evan was completely outmatched. But halfway through, he called for a stop. He looked at me in disbelief. “Mentor, would you really cheat just to win?” His clear voice echoed through the arena. My hand, hovering over a piece, froze. I looked up at him, uncomprehending. The referees signaled a timeout and approached my table. “Mr. Vance, please cooperate with our investigation.” They searched my pockets. In the inner lining of my jacket, they found a black chess piece. My entire outfit for the match had been prepared by Shannon. A ringing filled my ears. I shook my head, numb. “I didn’t.” The flash of a dozen cameras blinded me. Before I could process what was happening, I heard the referee announce my disqualification. My mother strode forward and slapped me across the face. Her voice was ice. “How could I have a son so shameless!” Overnight, I went from a celebrated genius to a pariah. I fled, leaving the frenzied pack of reporters behind me. I had to find Shannon, to ask her what was happening. As I ran down the stairwell, I skidded to a halt. The sight before me felt like it would tear my eyes from their sockets. 4 Evan had Shannon pressed against the wall, his hand on her waist, kissing her with a savage intensity. Their clothes were half-off. It was the sound of my footsteps that made Shannon snap back to reality. A desperate roar tore from my throat. I kicked Evan away and lunged for Shannon, my hands closing around her neck. “Why? Why would you do this to me?!” “You planted that piece in my jacket so Evan could win! Why?!” Shannon broke free from my grip and rushed to help Evan, who had fallen to the floor. Evan scrambled to his knees in front of me, his hands clasped together. “Mentor, it wasn’t her fault! It was all me! I know I’ve wronged you…” I wanted to tear him to pieces. When he was at his lowest, I was the one who helped him. When he had no money to bury his parents, I paid. When he had no money for school, I paid. I taught him everything I knew, hoping he would shine in the world of chess. “But why would you do this to me?” I stumbled back, tears streaming down my face. Shannon’s expression had turned cold and calm. “Yes, I planned it. You have everything. Evan has nothing.” “And yes, Evan and I are together. We’ve been together since the day I lost our baby.” “Mom knows, and she doesn’t disapprove. She said if you can’t accept it, we can get a divorce, but I’ll still be a part of the Vance family.” Her words shattered me. I don’t know how I left. For the next week, I was a ghost. My mother publicly disowned me, striking my name from the family records. Shannon and Evan started appearing everywhere together. The news was filled with my scandal. To prove my innocence, I swallowed my pride and went to the tournament officials, demanding the surveillance footage. But just as I found the key piece of evidence, Shannon had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Her face was a cold mask. “Evan is young. Are you trying to ruin him? Haven’t you earned enough glory in your life?” Shannon and I had been betrothed since birth. From the day she was born, she was meant to be a Vance. After we married, we were the couple everyone envied. But now, for another man, she had destroyed me. I had never been so broken. I knelt before her, clutching her hands, begging. “Do you know what this tournament meant to me?” “It was my birthday. You said you had a gift for me. I don’t want anything else. Just give me back my name. Please?” I bowed my head to the floor, pleading with her. But she was ruthless. She had me locked away. In that place, I endured unimaginable torment, both physical and mental. I wasn’t sick, but they were determined to make me so. A month after I was admitted, a fire broke out in the hospital. Everyone died. I escaped with my life, but I might as well have been dead. “Noah, just admit to what you did. Apologize. Maybe then you can come back and live a normal life.” Shannon’s voice pulled me back to the present. I couldn’t help but laugh. Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do? The stares of the other guests were like daggers, all of them waiting for the next act of the drama. I looked at my mother. Meeting her cold gaze, I spoke softly. “Happy birthday, Mrs. Vance.” With those words, the last of my old attachments fell away. She was right. She didn’t want me as a son anymore. The papers had been signed. There was no reason for me to go back. Both Shannon and my mother’s eyes widened. “You were right. I don’t have a mother like you, either.” The color drained from my mother’s face. I turned to Shannon, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “No one knows the truth of what happened back then better than you. Don’t you feel even a little bit guilty?” I strode out of the hotel. Shannon followed me, sticking to me like a shadow all the way back to my apartment. She was a frantic mess of explanations and apologies. “I’ve regretted it every single day. I can’t sleep at night. I have to take sleeping pills just to get a few hours of rest.” “I…” As I unlocked my door, she tried to follow me inside. I blocked her path. I glanced at my watch and cut her off. “Miss Florence, my wife will be home soon. She’s a bit timid and doesn’t do well with crowds.”

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I’m a journalist who specializes in the minds of monsters. There was this one serial killer, call sign “X.” He’d butchered seven sex workers, gutted them like fish, and harvested their organs. Interviewing him was my white whale. I dreamed about it. Then the news broke: X was dead. Murdered. The guy who killed him? Ethan Vance. Here’s what I know about Ethan: We were classmates in elementary school. He’s a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology. The guy was a genius, damn near perfect SAT scores back in the day. His girlfriend is an escort. His little sister vanished in the red-light district years ago. 1 I flew a thousand miles from Chicago to Seattle today just to sit across from Ethan Vance. Ethan is currently being hailed as a hero for taking out “X,” the twisted psycho who terrified the West Coast for five years. X was a copycat, modeling himself after Jack the Ripper. He’d carve an “X” into the victim’s face after removing an organ. Over the last decade, I’ve hit every major penitentiary in the country. I’ve sat down with hundreds of killers. They usually fall into three buckets: lust, vengeance, or passion. Then there’s the fourth bucket: The Deviant. Simple translation: I killed you, and I don’t need a reason. I still remember my first interview. The kid was 19. He killed a runaway foster kid in his rural hometown. I asked him why. He told me: “I was curious. I wanted to see what a human face looks like when the lights go out. What would he say? Would he twitch? Would he claw at the dirt like a dying cat, or whimper and cry like a puppy? I had to know. He was weak, alone. No mommy or daddy to save him. I lured him into the cornfield and shanked him right in the kidney. The look in his eyes… humans are different than animals. More pathetic. He held his side and ran, leaving this long, bright red trail through the stalks. I just walked behind him. Watching him stumble was hilarious. When he bled out and collapsed, I flipped him over. He didn’t look hateful. He looked begging. His last words were, ‘Please, save me.’ I carved my initials into him. I wanted to thank him for being my first. I wanted to be with him forever. To commemorate the occasion, I gouged out his eyes and hid them in the root cellar of my old abandoned house.” That interview stuck with me. But after a decade, the stories got stale. Same old motives. I needed something fresh. I needed a monster like that 19-year-old again. Then X showed up. The first body was missing a heart. An “X” carved on the cheek. The police thought it was a crime of passion. They wasted months looking for ex-boyfriends with “X” in their names. Three months later, another city. Another escort. Liver gone. “X” on the face. Six months later. Another city. Kidney gone. This time, the killer posed her. Legs together, arms crossed over her chest, eyes shut. He painted colorful wings on the pavement around her waist. From above, she looked like she was ascending to heaven. The victim had a brother who never showed up to ID the body. Later, a monk reported her ashes stolen from the temple. Victims four, five, six, seven. All escorts, all orphans. X started getting artsy. He nailed one girl’s palms to a wooden cross. He posed another like “The Thinker.” Then, silence. For three years, X vanished. Until recently. A body appeared in a dumpster. “X” on the face, heart missing. No art, just trash. The cops caught the guy in three days. The media cheered. But while everyone was celebrating, a drunk stumbled down a dark alley in Portland. He saw a woman framed inside a giant picture frame mounted on the wall. Her lips were stapled into a smile. It was a macabre Mona Lisa. Left breast removed. “X” on the face. A note was tucked in the corner: Dear Officers, I am X. I will not let some amateur take credit for my life’s work. The surveillance state makes it hard, but I had to come out to tell you: You will never catch me. – Oct 6, 2017. The handwriting was elegant. He punched a hard dot after the date, showing his rage. Surveillance footage from a dark corner caught a glimpse of him. One leg didn’t bend. He walked with a limp. Experts analyzed the gait. Eight out of ten doctors said the limp was real, likely an injury between the calf and thigh. Fast forward to 2020. October 6th. X is dead. And my old pal Ethan Vance held the smoking gun—or rather, the flower vase. I pulled strings. The Chief in Seattle loves my book, The Anatomy of Murder. He told Detective Ramirez to give me the green light. 2 Ramirez led me to the interrogation room. Ethan looked at me with genuine shock. “You? You’re the reporter?” “Surprise, buddy,” I laughed. “I’m kind of a big deal in the true crime world now. You’re a hero, Ethan. You took down X. I flew a thousand miles for this scoop. You got a lawyer? I know some sharks.” “No need,” Ethan said calmly. “I don’t need one.” “Fair enough. The internet wants you getting a medal, not a prison sentence.” I played it cool. Started with small talk to loosen him up. We talked about 5th grade. How he was the smart orphan kid everyone loved. How I shared my mom’s dumplings with him. We reminisced about catching cicadas in the woods by the graveyard. He used to have this stray dog, a mutt named Buster. I was so jealous of that dog. My mom wouldn’t let me have one because they were “dirty.” “I loved that dog,” I said. “Whatever happened to him? He live a long life?” “No,” Ethan said, his voice flat. “Summer of 6th grade. He didn’t come home. found him by the road with his skull cracked open. Adults said a car hit him.” “That sucks,” I said, shifting gears quickly. “Remember Old Man Jenkins? The guy with the limp? We used to steal his watermelons. I’d distract him, you’d grab the melon. He couldn’t chase us with that bad leg. He’d hobble around, shoulders bobbing up and down. Funny as hell.” We both laughed. The ice was broken. “So,” I leaned in. “How did you kill X?” “I already told Ramirez.” “I want to hear it from you. For the book.” Ethan sighed. “Fine.” Here’s his story: He went to check on Chloe (formerly known as Fang Xinyun), the girl X was targeting. He knocked, no answer. But he heard glass breaking inside. Worried, he kicked the door in. He found Chloe on the floor, an “X” drawn on her face in red marker. As he went to help her, a shadow moved across the floor. Sunlight hit it. He turned around. A masked man lunged with a knife. They fought. Ethan grabbed a heavy flower vase and smashed it over the guy’s head. The guy went down hard. Ethan called the cops. The guy was dead. One hit. Later, Chloe woke up in the hospital. She told the police the attacker was a regular client who was obsessed with her. He wanted to run away with her. When she refused, he snapped. He screamed at her: “I’m X! The police haven’t caught me in ten years! Since you won’t come with me, you’ll be my next masterpiece.” He knocked her out. Then Ethan arrived. 3 “That’s it?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “What do you mean?” “It’s so… basic. No offense, but I wanted X to be caught alive. I wanted to pick his brain. But he died from a vase to the head? It lacks flair.” “Life isn’t a movie, Jack. You have a weird fetish for ‘flair’.” “Maybe.” I wrapped up the interview, but something smelled off. The narrative was trash. Serial killer falls for hooker, gets rejected, tries to kill her, gets bonked by a nerd with a vase. It wouldn’t sell books. And wait—Ethan is a prestigious Ph.D. Why is he hanging out with an escort? I needed to talk to Chloe. I went to her apartment. She slammed the door in my face. I slid ten $100 bills under the door. Money talks. She let me in, but her story was identical to Ethan’s script. When I asked about her relationship with Ethan, she snapped. “What, a Ph.D. can’t date a girl like me? You men are all the same.” “Chill, I’m just asking.” “Get out! Take your dirty money and get out!” She threw the cash at my face. I crouched down to pick up the bills. That’s when it hit me. Like a lightning bolt. I stood up and looked around. The windows faced North and South. They were covered with frosted paper. It was the exact time of day Ethan claimed the fight happened. There was no shadow on the floor. Not a distinct one. Ethan lied. 4 Why did he lie? And is X really dead? I rushed to the precinct and told Detective Ramirez. Ramirez smirked. “Not bad, reporter. We knew he was lying. Honestly? We suspect Ethan might be X.” “What? No way. Why?” “His travel records. Over the last few years, Ethan has been in every city where X killed a girl, right around the time of the murders.” “Coincidence? He’s a profiler.” “Maybe. But when you stare into the abyss, right? Plus, his sister. Her file has been cold for years. We think she’s dead.” I went back for a second interview. “What is your relationship with Chloe? Really.” “She was my patient,” Ethan said. “Then my girlfriend. I was testing a new hypnosis therapy. Long-term, slow-burn suggestion. I needed a volunteer who would let me reshape memories.” “Hypnosis? You serious?” “It works. Chloe was scared of someone. She told me under hypnosis that a man wanted to cut her heart out. She wouldn’t give me a name. We grew close during the sessions. I fell for her. I went to her place that day to confess my feelings, and I walked in on the attack.” “Did the experiment work?” “No.” “Okay. Next question. Ramirez thinks you’re X. Your travel history matches the murders.” “I’m a criminal psychologist. I study X. I track him. I go to the crime scenes to profile him. I felt like I knew him. I never expected to be the one to kill him.” “Right. One more thing. You said you saw X’s shadow on the floor. I went to Chloe’s apartment. The lighting, the frosted glass… you couldn’t have seen a sharp shadow. Why lie?” Ethan froze. He opened his mouth, but Ramirez burst in and dragged me out. 5 Ramirez looked grave. “No more interviews. We found new evidence.” They found a shrine of X’s photos in Ethan’s house. The dead guy’s real name was Caleb. Caleb didn’t die from the vase. He died of poison. Caleb sent a text to Chloe before he died: “Run. Ethan is X.” They found microscope slides of human tissue in Ethan’s apartment. “I can’t let you talk to him anymore,” Ramirez said. “But if you want to investigate on your own… be my guest. Just don’t print those four points yet.” I went back to the hotel, buzzing. But something didn’t add up. Ethan said he met Chloe six months ago. I went back to Chloe’s. I harassed her until she slipped up. “What hypnosis? I’ve known Ethan for three years!” She slammed the door again. Ethan lied about the timeline. I needed to know about Caleb. The dead “X.” I went to Caleb’s apartment. The landlord was clearing it out. “He was a quiet guy,” the landlord said. “Had a girlfriend once, then she stopped coming. He got skinny. Looked like a skeleton recently. No way he killed people. He didn’t have the strength to open a jar.” The room was empty. Just a bed and a desk. I looked around, frustrated. Then I saw a picture frame on the wall. It wasn’t a painting. It was a slide puzzle. I started sliding the tiles. Head. Torso. Legs. Wings. Click. It formed the image of X’s third victim—the “ascending angel.” The frame popped open. A notebook fell out. I opened it. It was a list of phone numbers and cities. I called the first one. “Hello?” A woman answered. “Hi, um…” “Look, it’s $200 for an hour, $500 overnight. Condoms mandatory.” I hung up. Called the next. “I told you, I haven’t seen any customers with a limp! Stop calling!” I froze. The notebook was a directory of sex workers across the country. A photo slipped out of the back pages. It was a group shot: St. Jude’s Home for Boys – New Year’s Eve. I recognized the kids. It was Ethan. His little sister, Lily. And a third boy holding her hand. That boy must be Caleb. Ethan and the “Killer” grew up together.

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