Category: English

Aria and I had a promise. The day we graduated, we would get married. We’d invite all our friends to witness it. But on that day, she married her first love instead. Clutching my chest, I asked her why. Annoyance flashed in her eyes. “Marrying Danny was just to fulfill a childhood promise. I’ll divorce him in a month. You’ve waited this long for me, can’t you wait one more month?” It was a joke. A cruel, twisted joke. I had loved her for eight years. In that single moment, the idea of her rotted away in my heart. 1. I watched Aria and Danny emerge from the courthouse, holding their freshly signed marriage certificate. Their faces were radiant with joy as Aria’s friends snapped photos, celebrating. Danny had the decency to look sheepish. “Asher, you’re not mad, are you? It’s just for a month. I’ll give her back to you, I promise.” Aria tugged on his sleeve, her face a mask of indifference, showing no remorse. “Danny, don’t feel guilty. I can marry whomever I want. It’s my choice.” The person standing next to her should have been me. I had loved her for eight years, and we’d been together for four. From the very beginning, she’d made a vow: “Asher, the day we graduate, let’s get married. It’ll be the perfect end to our perfect college life!” She had been so sure, so sincere. I had held onto that promise for four years, counting down the days. My friends all knew how much this day meant to me. I’d been eating clean for a month, just to have the perfect skin for our marriage certificate photo. I arrived at eight o’clock sharp and saw her immediately. She was wearing a flowing white dress, a delicate veil in her hair, her makeup flawless. It was the scene I had replayed in my mind for four years. But she was with Danny. She had forgotten our promise. On the very day I had yearned for, she gave me a “surprise.” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I clutched it, my eyes stinging as I looked at her. “Aria, you’re my girlfriend. You promised you’d marry me today. I’ve waited four years for this!” My voice, usually so steady, broke. Aria’s face hardened with impatience. “Marrying Danny was just to fulfill a childhood promise. I’ll divorce him in a month. You’ve waited this long for me, can’t you wait one more month?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was marriage a game to her? I knew she had a first love, a whirlwind romance from her past. They had promised that the first thing they’d do after getting married was travel the world together. But I thought four years with me had erased him from her heart. Clearly, I was wrong. 2. “Come on, Asher, don’t be so dramatic,” one of Aria’s friends chimed in. “She said it’s only for a month. Danny’s a good friend to all of us. I can vouch that he won’t cross any lines with her.” “I can’t accept this,” I said, my voice hoarse and trembling. I hadn’t slept at all the night before, buzzing with anticipation, and now I felt a cold coming on. “Aria, you’re my girlfriend. You should be my wife. I don’t care if it’s a promise you plan to break. I won’t accept it.” Rage flared in Aria’s eyes. “So you won’t listen to reason? I hate it when you’re so possessive!” I knew this tactic. She was trying to bully me into submission. Whenever she didn’t like something I did, she’d say things like that, and I would panic, terrified of losing her, and immediately back down. But not today. “That’s right. I’m possessive,” I said, my voice firm. “I can’t accept my girlfriend marrying someone else.” Danny looked distressed. “Aria, maybe we should just go back in and get a divorce. Asher seems really upset.” “Forget him,” she hissed, her voice low and soothing to him, then turned a venomous glare on me. “Asher, I’m telling you right now, you’ll accept this whether you like it or not. I’ll divorce him in a month, and that’s final.” She took Danny’s hand and led him away. As they drove off in her convertible, I saw Danny glance back, a triumphant smirk on his face. Her friends melted away, leaving me alone. My chest felt tight. What should have been the happiest day of my life was a complete disaster. 3. I stood there for a long time before I finally left. The drive back felt surreal, like a nightmare. Just yesterday, we were happy, studying in the library. She’d propped her chin on her hands and said, “We’re getting married tomorrow. I’m so excited.” I thought she was excited to marry me. Now I knew the truth. Back at campus, Aria was in the middle of her graduation photos, proudly waving her marriage certificate. “I’m married!” she announced to everyone. “Tomorrow, I’m going on a trip around the world with the love of my life. It’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done!” “Congratulations, Aria! You look so happy,” a classmate said. “But where’s Asher?” Everyone knew we were a couple. Her smile vanished. “Who says I have to marry him? I married the boy I loved when I was younger.” Just then, she saw me. She walked over, her expression cold. “Have you come to your senses?” I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to ask me that. She was the one who broke her promise, who betrayed me. When I didn’t answer, she frowned. “Fine. Stop looking so miserable. I’ll marry you as soon as I get back, okay?” I used to think we were soulmates. That we understood each other, shared the same values. But now I realized we were on completely different paths. “Aria,” I said, looking her straight in the eye, “do you really think you’ve done nothing wrong?” Her gaze flickered. “I already explained everything,” she snapped. “It’s a fake marriage. Can’t you just let it go?” “Fine,” I said, nodding. There was no point in arguing. We were speaking different languages. 4. We didn’t speak a word to each other during the rest of the graduation photos. Our classmates kept stealing glances at us, whispering. Before today, we were inseparable, the couple everyone assumed would last forever. But nothing is absolute. Clear water can turn murky, food can spoil, and love… love can rot. As I walked out of the university gates, I saw Danny waiting with a suitcase. Aria was right behind me, dragging her own. So eager to start their new life together. My fists clenched, a bitter rage rising in me. “Don’t cause a scene,” Aria hissed, bumping into me as she passed. Then her face transformed, a bright smile appearing as she walked toward Danny. “Ready to go?” Danny hesitated. “But… Asher’s right here. He looks angry.” “Don’t worry about him,” she said dismissively. “You and I are married now.” She was right. They were husband and wife. What was I? Just the boyfriend. I had no right to question her anymore. But I couldn’t let her go. Not like this. I walked over, making one last attempt. “Aria, please don’t go.” For four years, I’d always been direct with her, wanting to avoid the misunderstandings that plagued characters in novels. Her face contorted with annoyance. “Are you deaf? I’ve explained it a dozen times. Why are you being so difficult, Asher? I never realized how insufferable you could be. Get out of my way.” In that moment, something inside me died. The girl who had been my sunshine, my everything, was gone. Replaced by this cruel, rotten stranger. Before I could say another word, she was gone, leaving with Danny. A short while later, I saw her post on social media. A photo of a detailed travel itinerary. The caption read: “Waited four years for this. Planned for four months. Finally fulfilling my childhood dream today.” A tear splashed onto my phone screen. I started to laugh. A hollow, broken sound. Laughing at myself for four years of foolish hope. 5. Aria’s father called me. He wanted to know if we’d gotten married yet. I first met Aria at a business gala. She was the daughter of the wealthy Lin family, a slender, poised sixteen-year-old who delivered a speech on behalf of her family’s company. I fell for her instantly. Born into a powerful family, an arranged marriage was my destiny. When my parents told me to choose a bride from a list of eligible heiresses, I chose Aria. We got to know each other, went to the same university, and slowly, a real love grew between us. Our parents knew of our plans to marry after graduation. “Mr. Lin,” I said into the phone, “Aria and I won’t be getting married.” “What happened?” “She married her first love. I’m planning to call off our engagement. I’m very sorry, sir.” He knew who her first love was. He also knew his daughter. After a long pause, he said, “Asher, don’t do anything rash. Let me handle this. I’ll get you an answer.” After we hung up, I saw Aria was live on social media. She and Danny were embracing on a vast, grassy plain. “It’s so beautiful here,” she said to the camera. “You have to come here with the person you love.” Danny was grinning from ear to ear. The sight was a knife in my gut. Aria was supposed to be mine. Now I was just an outsider watching their life unfold. I spent the night drinking, the memories of our time together replaying in my head. Every moment, every shared laugh, was a part of me, and now I had to carve it all out. The next morning, my phone shrieked, waking me from a drunken stupor. It was Aria. “Asher, I can’t believe how low you’ve sunk!” she screamed. “Running to my dad to tattle on me? You’re disgusting! But let me tell you, it won’t work. Nothing you do will stop my plans with Danny. I wouldn’t come back now even if you were dying.” The line went dead before I could respond. A moment later, a text from an unknown number. “Aria is mine. She’ll never love you again.” Attached was a photo of Aria and Danny in matching jackets, kissing at the foot of a snow-capped mountain. I recognized the location immediately. A place I’d always dreamed of visiting. “Aria,” I had told her once, “they say you have to go there with the person you love most in the world. Let’s go after we get married.” “Okay,” she had agreed. The memory hit me with the force of a physical blow. The pain in my chest was unbearable. Maybe we were never meant to be. If that was the case, why was I torturing myself like this? As the sun rose, I knew I had to move on. In the days that followed, I battled my grief. While I was wallowing at home, they were watching the Northern Lights. “There’s an old legend,” she posted, “that any wish made under the aurora will come true. I wished that the boy by my side and I would never be parted.” While I was sleepless with sorrow, they were sharing secrets under the stars. With every new destination, the unknown number would send me photos, rubbing their happiness in my face. I was a rat in the sewer, watching their perfect love story from the shadows. It was pathetic. Utterly pathetic. A month later, I finally pulled myself together. I told my parents I was ready to join the family business. I also told them I would marry anyone but Aria. The only constant in the world is change. I should have known that. It was time to build a better version of myself. Today was my first day taking over the company. I wore a black suit and held a press conference. It was also the day Aria was due back. She called and texted, but I ignored her. After the press conference, the new fiancée my parents had arranged for me was waiting by the door. She was beautiful, and she waved when she saw me. I walked over to greet her. Just as I was about to help her into my car, Aria appeared. A month hadn’t changed her. She was as stunning as ever. But now, her eyes were blazing with a furious, disbelieving rage. “Asher, I’m your girlfriend! What the hell are you doing?” 6. “What?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression calm. “Don’t you have a husband?” Her pupils contracted, as if I’d struck her. “I told you I’d divorce him after a month! It’s been a month!” She saw my hand on the other girl’s arm and lunged forward, prying us apart. “Don’t you touch him! He’s my boyfriend!” The girl I was with was no pushover. She laughed. “Honey, our parents arranged our engagement. Who the hell are you?” SLAP! Aria struck her across the face. I moved to intervene, but it was too late. They were already a tangle of flying fists and hair. The end result was both of them in the hospital. Aria’s father rushed in, apologizing profusely. “Asher, I’m so sorry. Aria was completely out of line.” He had always been kind to me, so I just said it was fine. Aria lay in her hospital bed, her eyes red with fury. “Dad! He’s already found a new woman, and you’re apologizing to him? You’re supposed to be on my side!” Her father’s face darkened. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Where have you been for the past month?” “I was just fulfilling a promise with Danny!” she snapped. Just then, the other girl’s parents arrived. Seeing the unresolved mess between me and Aria, they quickly called off the engagement. Aria leaped out of bed and grabbed my shirt, tears streaming down her face. “Asher, you heartless bastard! If I hadn’t come back, you would have married her, wouldn’t you?”

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The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer was the day the tabloids exploded with pictures of Seraphina and him again. The heiress to the Shen Corporation, caught in yet another affair. The company stock plummeted overnight. The board members urged me to issue a clarification. The media demanded an immediate response. Just like all the countless times before. Seraphina’s call came through, her tone as arrogant and dismissive as ever. “I’m busy taking Leo to the theater. I don’t have time for this nonsense. You handle it. You’re used to it, anyway.” Her voice dropped, cold and sharp. “And the same rule applies. If you dare say a single bad word about him, bankruptcy will be the least of the Wen family’s problems.” This time, I didn’t scream or argue. I just stared at the two funeral urns on my desk and said softly, “I know.” I told the PR department to schedule a press conference. Then I tore up the speech they had prepared for me. They say that when people are dying, they make a list of wishes to fulfill so they can leave with no regrets. I only have one. To divorce Seraphina Shen. … The press conference had barely ended when Seraphina’s furious call came. “I told you to deny the rumors! Who gave you permission to mention divorce?” Her voice was shrill. “That’s no different from publicly declaring that Leo is a homewrecker!” I paused, a sense of bitter absurdity washing over me. How could I have imagined, for even a second, that her panic was because our marriage was ending? I pressed a hand to my aching stomach and spoke quietly. “I just thought… since you love him so much, you should give him the title he deserves.” “This position was never truly mine anyway. I’m just returning it to its rightful owner.” There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a scornful laugh. “Do you really think Leo is as selfish and grasping as you are? He only cares about me.” Her voice turned venomous. “Adrian Wen, don’t you dare think that playing the magnanimous victim will make me soften up and sign those papers. It’s not that easy.” “Since you stole this position, you can sit on your stolen throne and weep. Unless I get tired of playing with you, don’t even think about escaping.” The line went dead. She must have been disappointed not to see the familiar look of humiliated endurance on my face. The video of me announcing our divorce was scrubbed from the internet within the hour. It didn’t matter. I no longer had the time to play her twisted game of revenge. I didn’t even need her signature. When I arrived at the old family estate, Grandfather Shen was waiting for me in his study. He frowned when I told him my intention. “Adrian, I know you’ve been wronged these past few years,” he said, his voice gentle. “Seraphina is just being foolish for a time. Marriage is not a child’s game. You can’t throw it away out of spite. Besides, your parents…” I cut him off, shaking my head softly. “Grandfather, my parents are gone.” “Divorce was their dying wish. And… it’s mine, too.” I placed the two urns on his desk, next to the terminal cancer diagnosis. He stared at them, speechless, the color draining from his face. “Before I die, I just want a little peace. For the sake of the boy you watched grow up… please, help me.” Seraphina was the head of the Shen Corporation now, but I knew that this was a favor her grandfather could still grant. After a long, heavy silence, he sighed. “Go, then. The Shen family has failed you. That girl… she has utterly failed you.” He had watched both of us grow up. He had also watched me wither and fade away within this marriage. As I was leaving, he called out to me, his eyes filled with a deep, aching sorrow. “Adrian, wherever you go, you must tell your grandfather. When that day comes… I will be there to see you off.” A sharp sting filled my nose. I wiped my eyes and managed a small, smiling nod. After laying my parents to rest, I packed up all of my belongings from the house, intending to donate them. The marriage certificate fell to the floor. In the photo, Seraphina was nestled against me, her eyes curved into crescents, full of love. Five years. Now, that same face only held disgust for me. Sometimes, I couldn’t understand it myself. I’d always been sharp, discerning. How had I so completely misread everything? If I had just asked one more question, perhaps this wouldn’t be the end. But I suppose I was greedy. For as long as I could remember, Seraphina Shen was the brightest star in our city’s elite social circle. Beautiful, brilliant, effortlessly capable, she radiated an aura of untouchable grace. Everywhere she went, she was surrounded by admirers. Compared to the other heirs, I was quiet and awkward, an introverted loner who preferred solitude to parties. I could only ever steal glances at her over the top of a book from across a crowded ballroom. Then, when we were twenty-two, an earthquake struck while she was at the theater. The building collapsed. She was injured and fell into a coma. I was her attending physician. Thankfully, her injuries weren’t severe, though she had lost her memory of the moments just before the accident. When she woke up, the first person she saw was me. She threw her arms around me, her voice trembling. “You saved me, didn’t you? I would have died without you…” I was stunned, completely at a loss. I mumbled that it wasn’t that dramatic, that I was just doing my job. But the next day, Seraphina announced to the world that she was going to marry me. She, who was notoriously difficult to get a meeting with, now wanted to see me constantly. She, who hated waiting and waking up early, now drove me to and from the hospital every day, preparing elaborate meals. We went skiing in the Alps and saw the Northern Lights in Iceland. She personally flew to Switzerland and spent a fortune on a raw pink diamond, then spent months designing my engagement ring herself. My secret, hopeless crush had been returned in the most spectacular way imaginable. I felt like I was living in a dream. Our families had always intended for us to unite in a business alliance. Our mutual affection made it perfect. We had a lavish wedding and became the golden couple of the city’s high society. Every time she looked at me with that deep, unwavering love, I felt like the luckiest man alive. But dreams always end. On our second anniversary, my friends booked a hotel suite for us to celebrate. Seraphina arrived late, her face a thunderous mask. When everyone cheered for us to link arms and drink, she didn’t move. I squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?” The next second, she ripped her hand away. The red wine in her glass arced through the air, splashing across my face. “Adrian Wen,” she spat, her voice colder than the chilled wine, her eyes filled with scorn and loathing. “How does it feel? Sitting on a throne you stole? What right do you have to celebrate anything?” Amid my friends’ gasps, I felt a sharp, stinging pain. My eyes swelled so much I could barely see. My suit was ruined. I stared at her, lost and confused. She knew I was allergic to alcohol. How could she have forgotten? But there was no remorse in her eyes. She threw a stack of photos at my face. “The person who saved me at the theater wasn’t you. Was it fun, playing me for a fool? You’re truly shameless, willing to do anything to secure your family’s interests.” Her voice was venomous. “If you hadn’t stolen the credit and made me mistake you for him, Leo wouldn’t have missed the window for his surgery! He wouldn’t be in a wheelchair right now because he couldn’t afford it!” “So what if you’re having a reaction? You deserve to have your face rot off!” I stared dumbly at the photos of the delicate, handsome boy in the wheelchair. A horrifying realization began to dawn. I had gotten something terribly, terribly wrong. I was in the hospital for two days. Seraphina never came. A private investigator gave me the full story. On the day of the collapse, a massive crystal chandelier had broken free, plummeting toward Seraphina. Leo, a ballet dancer and a scholarship student she sponsored, had shoved her out of the way. His own legs were crushed. He had saved her life. He had admired her for years but never dared confess his feelings because of his humble background. It was only after a recent chance encounter that they had reconnected and spoken openly. Everything was clear now. The person she had been looking for was never me. For the first time, I thought about divorce. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Seraphina was two months pregnant. Grandfather Shen and my parents were overjoyed. They told me all couples fight, that I had to think of the child, to give him a complete family. Grandfather Shen arranged a family dinner to celebrate and to help us reconcile. For the sake of the child, and for the love I still couldn’t let go of, I agreed. But Seraphina had other plans. She arrived pushing Leo in his wheelchair. They were wearing matching, custom-made outfits. She sat him down in my seat at the head of the table. Ignoring her grandfather’s thunderous expression, she asked Leo gently what he wanted to eat. Leo glanced nervously at me. “Seraphina,” he whispered, “is it really okay for me to sit here? Won’t your husband be upset?” “Hah,” she scoffed. “A thief has no right to be upset.” Her words were a slap across my face. Ignoring the awkward stares from everyone, I mumbled an excuse about feeling unwell and fled upstairs. As I left, I saw her press a soft kiss to Leo’s forehead. My heart seized. Her grandfather’s angry roar was drowned out by the sound of my body tumbling down the stairs. Blood blurred my vision. Just before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw Seraphina running toward me. I woke up in the hospital. She was sitting by my bed, with dark circles under her eyes. A flicker of hope ignited within me. Was she worried about me? But her first words plunged me back into the icy reality. “I got rid of the child. A creature conceived in a lie should never have existed.” I remembered how she used to whisper in my ear, saying she wanted a gentle son, just like me. The loss of our child, the cold disgust from the woman I loved—it shattered the last of my composure. For the first time, I screamed at her, my voice raw with anguish, demanding to know why she was doing this to me. She calmly straightened her collar, her tone mocking. “You brought this on yourself. The moment you decided to take credit for something you didn’t do, you should have known this was coming.” I collapsed back onto the bed, watching as she took a call from Leo and left without a backward glance. The thought of our innocent, lost child sent me into a spiral of uncontrollable sobs. But I truly didn’t know. I was a doctor. I had simply treated my patient. It was just a coincidence that my patient was the woman I had loved from afar for years. Why had that become a crime? The day I was discharged, I had my lawyer draft divorce papers. If they all believed I had stolen Leo’s place, then I would give it back. The Wen family heir didn’t need to build his life on stolen affection. But I forgot one thing. Because I was the Wen family heir, my parents would not stand for this humiliation. And the Shen family would never accept Leo. They found Leo. They offered him a sum of money that would set him up for life, and treatment from the world’s leading orthopedic surgeon. In exchange, he had to disappear. He took the money and vanished that same day. But not before sending me a text: “Mr. Wen, my feelings for Seraphina are real. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. Since you cannot tolerate my presence, I will accept the arrangements. I wish you both happiness.” Before I could reply, Seraphina burst into the room. She snatched the phone from my hand and stared at the screen for a full five minutes. I braced myself for an interrogation, but she said nothing. She simply went to the kitchen and made me a bowl of chicken soup, just like she used to. She became gentle again. She took me with her to social events, her every gesture an act of doting affection. To the outside world, we were the perfect couple once more. Seeing her so mature and responsible, Grandfather Shen finally entrusted the Shen Corporation to her. My parents relaxed. Even I started to believe that, in her heart, our family mattered more. It was only later that I understood. She was just biding her time. With full control of the company, Seraphina no longer had anything to fear. Ignoring the numerous joint ventures between our families, she allied with several other powerful families and launched an all-out assault on the Wen Corporation. In a matter of months, my family was bankrupt, drowning in debt, and cast out of the elite circle we had once belonged to. Creditors hounded us daily. My father’s black hair turned gray overnight. My mother cried endlessly. I ran to Seraphina, begging her for mercy. I found her feeding fruit to Leo, who was nestled in her lap. She let me wait for a long time before she finally deigned to look at me. “When you and your parents went to him,” she said, her voice dangerously soft, “when you destroyed his ability to have children and had him sold to a red-light district in Southeast Asia, were you thinking about mercy?” “You wanted to use this marriage for your family’s gain, didn’t you? Well, this is the price for scheming against me.” “I’m in charge now. Even the old man can’t stop me. The fact that your parents are still alive is a testament to my generosity.” Seraphina had her bodyguards hold me down. They forced handfuls of pills down my throat. I felt the blood drain from me as a private doctor confirmed to her that I would never be able to have children. She covered Leo’s eyes, whispering gently, “Don’t look. It’s filthy.” In that moment, I started to laugh. Laughing at my own foolish, delusional heart. “Let’s get a divorce.” She froze, a strange flicker of anger in her eyes. She grabbed my chin, her gaze hardening. “What, you realize there’s nothing left to gain from this marriage, so you want to cut and run? Not a chance.” “If it weren’t for you, Leo wouldn’t still be struggling to walk. You will behave, or the Wen family might be finished, but your parents are still alive, aren’t they?” She refused the divorce, but flaunted Leo everywhere, spoiling him to a scandalous degree. She let the media splash their intimate photos across every screen, and every time, she would just smile and tell them to talk to me. She pushed me into the line of fire, alone, forcing me to endure the shame and clarify the rumors, to admit again and again that I was a fraud, a self-serving thief. It was torture. It was revenge. And as a reward, she would keep the creditors away from my parents. I thought things couldn’t get any worse. As long as my parents were safe, this broken, humiliating marriage didn’t seem to matter. But a single phone call from the hospital taught me that there is no bottom to hell.

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I made a killing in the stock market. When my colleague, Mark, found out, he begged me to let him in on the action. “Come on, we should all get rich together,” he’d said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ll just wire you the cash, you buy whatever you’re buying. We’re work buddies. I trust you.” “I know the risks,” he assured me. “If it all goes to zero, I won’t blame you. It’s on me.” “And when we cash out, drinks are on me.” Against my better judgment, I caved. Then, his mother was hospitalized. He came to me, demanding half a million dollars. “You can keep whatever’s left over as your fee,” he pleaded. “Just please, I need to withdraw the money. My mom is sick. It’s an emergency.” I stared at him, completely baffled. “But… you already pulled all your money out. What are you talking about?” A shadow fell over his face. “I’ve wired you my entire salary for years,” he snarled. “Even with a few losses, there’s no way you don’t have half a million. Don’t think for a second my money is your money. Cut the crap and pay me.” I held my ground, insisting that he was the one who had moved the funds. That’s when his wife showed up at my door, screaming. They launched a vicious smear campaign, turning the internet against me. But when I finally laid out the bank statements, they learned a hard lesson in regret. 1 “Just give me the money! Have you no sympathy? My mother is lying in a hospital bed, waiting for the money to pay her bills!” Mark’s voice was a raw mix of fury and grief, his eyes burning into me with accusation. The office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone seemed glued to their work, but I knew every ear was tuned to the drama unfolding at my desk. “I trusted you,” he pressed on, his voice cracking. “That’s why I asked you to invest for me. Just be straight with me—how much did you lose?” Seeing me remain silent in front of my monitor, he spun my chair around and jerked me to my feet. “Look, how about this?” he said, as if offering a generous concession. “Whatever was lost, I won’t make you pay for it. Just transfer the rest back to me. My mom needs that money.” A wave of irritation washed over me. I had a deadline to meet, and I didn’t have time for this nonsense. “The money’s already gone because you transferred it out,” I said, my voice sharp. “There’s five hundred dollars left in the account. I can send you that right now if you want.” I pulled out my phone, opening the trading app to shove the screen in his face. Mark’s eyes bulged. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. “Are you kidding me? For the past three years, I’ve sent you my entire eight-thousand-dollar paycheck every single month! That’s over two hundred grand! You’re supposed to be some stock market genius; you should have doubled it by now. And you’re telling me there’s only five hundred bucks left? Do you think I’m an idiot?” Chloe, another colleague, decided to chime in. “Mark’s right, Ava. We all saw him transferring his salary to you every month. You say he took it back out? Where’s the proof?” That was the signal. The dam broke, and the office erupted in a chorus of judgment. “Ava, listen to me,” an older colleague said with a sigh. “You have to have a conscience.” “Don’t defend her, Rick!” someone else snapped. “This is life-or-death money we’re talking about. How can she be so shameless?” “These young girls today… Now I see how she affords all that coffee and takeout. She’s living it up on someone else’s dime.” “I trust Mark. He’s a good guy. It has to be Ava who pocketed the money.” … One of the more hot-headed guys even gave me a shove. I was in my twenties, fresh out of college, completely unprepared for the vicious, shameless tactics of these seasoned office sharks. I bit down hard, fighting back the sting of tears. “I never wanted to invest his money in the first place! He begged me to, and I told him about the risks. You want proof? Fine. I’ll show you the proof.” I started scrolling through the transaction history on my phone. As I did, a flicker of panic crossed Mark’s face. He shot a quick glance at Chloe. Just as I found the records, Chloe rushed forward, clutching a stack of files. “Make way! Make way!” she shouted, then “accidentally” slammed into me. My phone flew from my hand, tumbling down the nearby stairwell with a sickening clatter. The screen went black. A smug smirk played on Chloe’s lips. “Oops. I just bumped you. How did your phone end up down there? Don’t tell me you never had any proof to begin with and you were just trying to blame me.” Rage flooded my senses. I gave her a cold, hard stare. “We both know who’s guilty here. It doesn’t matter. The records are synced to my computer.” I turned to log in to my work PC, where all my important accounts were saved. But Mark lunged forward, grabbing my hand. “Enough with the act!” he roared. “Is it really that hard to just give me back my money? Stop with all these games!” “I didn’t take your money, so why should I pay you back? You’re stopping me from getting the proof. Are you scared of what I’ll find?” My words hit their mark. A nasty look crossed his face, his eyes darting around as he scrambled for a new strategy. Just then, his phone rang. “Hello? Okay, I’m on my way!” It was the hospital. Mark grabbed my arm again, dragging me out of the office. When we got to the hospital, it turned out his mother’s bill was due. A nurse was speaking to him in a soft, sympathetic voice. “Honestly, sir, at this point, you’re just throwing money away. Your mother’s condition…” Mark cut her off, his face grim, and pulled me away from the payment counter. “Please, I’m begging you,” he said, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “My mom’s illness can’t wait. Just give me back the money.” For some reason, the hospital was unusually crowded today. He had pulled me into the thick of it, and now his voice suddenly boomed, drawing the attention of everyone around us. “You can keep all the profits you made from the investment! Just give me back the principal. I’m out of options. I’ll even say I’m borrowing it from you!” He looked utterly heartbroken, as if I were the villain in a Greek tragedy. A few people holding cameras, who must have been reporters, smelled a story and instantly swarmed us. “I know I had my own selfish reasons for asking you to manage my stocks,” Mark cried out to the crowd, “but you’ve made a lot of money off me, too! My mother is innocent in all this! If you just give the money back, I’ll do anything you want!” I scowled and took a step back. “Stop trying to guilt-trip me. You know exactly where your money went. As soon as I get home, I can throw the proof in your face.” From across the lobby, his wife, Linda, came running, a designer bag—my designer bag—slung over her shoulder. “You little bitch, how dare you show your face here!” she shrieked. “Look what you’ve done to my mother-in-law!” “Everyone, come and see!” she wailed. “This woman is holding our money hostage! My mother-in-law needs it to live! Is there no justice in the world?” The couple performed their parts perfectly, painting me as a heartless monster. The crowd murmured, and cameras flashed in my face. It took everything I had to push my way out of the throng and escape. I found out later that the reporters were from some tabloid, originally there to stalk a celebrity. I’d just handed them an even juicier story. I let out a bitter laugh. I was about to become famous. And I was right. It didn’t take long for my social media accounts to be flooded. The comments were a cesspool of filth. Mark and Linda gave an interview to the reporters, weaving a tale so tragic it would make a statue weep. The video ended with a direct condemnation of me. “To this Ms. Ava, how can you sleep at night, stealing money meant to save a life? Do you not fear divine retribution? We urge you to return the funds immediately. The public is watching, and you won’t get away with your lies.” The internet exploded. Self-proclaimed warriors of justice came out in droves. One user posted their location, just a mile from my apartment. “Alright, people, what do you need me to do? Taking requests. Your friendly neighborhood enforcer is on the scene.” “I looked her up. This girl graduated from a top university. Guess that school’s standards have really slipped!” “Don’t you dare lump us in with her! It’s a disgrace that we went to the same school. She probably bought her degree.” “Her parents are supposedly well-educated people. If my daughter turned out like that, I’d hang myself from the shame. And look at them, still traveling and posting pictures.” “Maybe she’s paying for their trips with the stolen money. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “He trusted you with his money, and you steal it when his mother’s life is on the line? You’re not even human.” In no time, trolls had dug up every piece of my personal information, slinging mud that splattered across three generations of my family. On my own posts—vacation photos, pictures with friends—the same people who used to leave fawning comments were now tearing me to shreds over unproven accusations. I scrolled through the hate, a stone sinking in my stomach. This had to stop. I compiled every single transaction statement, ready to print them out and shove them in Mark’s face. Just then, my mom called, her voice trembling. “Honey, what’s going on? A group of young people just came up to us out of nowhere and started screaming at us, calling you names. Your father was so upset he could barely breathe.” “Are you being bullied? Don’t be afraid. Mom and Dad are coming home right now to stand by you.” I hadn’t cried through all the insults and accusations, but now, hearing my mother’s voice, my eyes burned. I swallowed hard, not wanting them to worry, and calmly reassured them. This was my fight to finish. But then I saw a new comment. It was a picture of my parents. “Family, I’m here. Let me know what needs to be done. I’m about to teach these two a lesson on how to raise a child so she doesn’t grow up to be a menace to society.”

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When I was seven, my father stuck a piece of straw in my hair and sold me to a human trafficker. Later, like a piece of cargo, I was resold by the trafficker to a nanny working for the Sterling family. The nanny twisted my ear and dragged me in front of the young miss. “This stray bone from the outside needs to be taught a lesson.” I shrank back, daring not to speak. The young miss frowned, but said nothing to her. Instead, she started talking to me about independent personalities, women’s liberation, and “Mr. Democracy and Mr. Science.” I didn’t understand a word. But for the first time, I felt like a real person, standing tall and upright. 1 I was born strong, ate a lot, and wasn’t much to look at. My parents never liked me. When I was seven, a drought hit. The harvest failed, and the village was starving. My father stuck a piece of straw in my hair—a sign that I was for sale—and led me to the trafficker. He traded me for two measly pieces of silver. Clutching the money, he smiled so wide his eyes disappeared. He turned and left without a single glance back. I stood next to the trafficker. I didn’t chase him, didn’t cry. I didn’t even ask why he didn’t want me anymore. The trafficker wasn’t a bad person. She didn’t mistreat me or let me starve. She kept me for a few days, taught me some basic manners, and then sold me to the Sterling family, a high-ranking political household. The woman who came to buy me was a thin, stern-faced woman the trafficker called Nanny Wen. She looked a bit fierce. “From now on, you’re a maid in the Sterling household. Behave yourself.” 2 I got lucky. The Madam heard I was strong and looked honest, so she assigned me to be the young miss’s maid. I was taken to the miss’s courtyard. Nanny Wen lectured me on rules the whole way. This time, she wasn’t so fierce. “The Third Miss has been weak since birth. You need to be extra attentive.” “Everyone knows the Third Miss has a kind heart. Don’t you dare take advantage of her kindness and act out.” “The Sterling family never lacks for food or clothing. Follow the miss properly, and you’ll live a more decent life than even the daughters of wealthy merchants outside.” Back then, I was ignorant. I only remembered “work hard” and “no shortage of food or clothes.” “What is your name?” The young miss held my hand warmly. I nervously clutched the corner of my shirt. “I… this servant is called Weed.” The miss frowned slightly. “That’s not a good name.” She thought for a moment. “Do you have a wish?” “This… this servant just wants to work hard for Miss and not worry about food or clothes,” I stammered, accidentally repeating what Nanny Wen told me. The miss chuckled softly. “Let’s call you Hope then.” “In this chaotic world, hoping for peace and safety is a good life.” From then on, Weed, whose life was as cheap as grass in the village, was gone. There was only Hope, the maid by the side of the Sterling family’s Third Miss, Evelyn. Evelyn treated me well. She didn’t make me kneel or bow constantly, didn’t let me call myself “servant,” and even taught me to read and write. I waved my hands in panic. “The teacher said ignorance is a virtue for women. Reading is for men. Isn’t it an insult for me to learn?” Evelyn spat in disgust. “Listen to their ghosts talk. Men and women are no different in this world. High status or low, it doesn’t stop us from improving ourselves. Maid or miss, we are all just people. Never belittle yourself.” Under Evelyn’s insistence, I became the only maid in the Sterling household who could read and write. Everyone envied me. Occasionally, they’d ask me to write letters home for them. But I never wrote home. My parents didn’t want me, so I didn’t want them either. Evelyn always shared her delicious food with me. Soon, I grew as tall as her. Evelyn never disliked my strength or big appetite. She told me, “Being able to eat is a blessing. Strength is your talent.” Nanny Wen was right. Being with Evelyn was my blessing. I grinned foolishly at her. Evelyn suddenly asked me, “What do you want to do in the future?” Future? It seemed like a distant word. I had never thought about it. “I want to serve Miss forever.” Thinking of my past and my current good life, this seemed like a good plan. Evelyn lightly knocked my head. “I’m asking what your dream is?” I insisted, “I just want to serve Miss.” Evelyn still looked disapproving. I didn’t want to make her unhappy, so I started thinking about “dreams” and “future.” It seemed so far away from me. At home, I hoped my parents would treat me just a little better. Not much, just half as well as they treated my sister and brother. But when the famine came, they abandoned me without hesitation. From then on, their future would not include me. And my future would no longer have their shadows. Evelyn treated me well. She fed me, clothed me, didn’t mock me, and always encouraged and supported me. I wanted to protect Evelyn forever. Couldn’t that count as a dream? I suddenly remembered reading in a book that generals could protect their families and defend the country. Defending the country should include protecting Evelyn. I told her, “I want to be a general.” But could a woman really be a general? Evelyn didn’t think I was delusional. Hearing my words, she hired a master to teach me martial arts. She said, “Since you have such ambition, you cannot bury your talent.” Wearing the training clothes Evelyn had the tailor make specially for me, I felt a bit awkward. But Evelyn held my hands, looking me over with satisfaction. “Not bad, you look the part. I really look forward to seeing our Hope in full armor.” To live up to her expectations, I trained even harder. Even the master praised me as a natural martial artist. In her spare time, Evelyn would personally teach me military strategy. 3 When I was nine, I accidentally bumped into the Second Miss in the Sterling mansion. Upon learning I was from Evelyn’s courtyard, the Second Miss wanted to punish me with ten lashes. Her mother, Concubine Chu, was the childhood sweetheart and favorite concubine of the Master. She always disliked the Madam. Influenced by this, the Second Miss, Victoria, had been at odds with Evelyn since childhood. I knelt at Victoria’s feet, head buried in the ground, apologizing repeatedly. Victoria rolled her eyes and told me, “As long as you say Evelyn always scolds and beats you, I won’t punish you.” I was young, but not stupid. I knew ladies of noble families cared most about their reputation. A ruined reputation would affect future marriage prospects. Even if Evelyn didn’t care about these things, I couldn’t let her get a reputation for being arrogant and domineering over something so small. I pressed my lips tight and said nothing. I was dragged away and beaten with ten heavy boards. When Nanny Wen found me, I had already fainted from the pain. When I woke up, Evelyn was sitting by my bed with a dark face. Nanny Wen shouted happily, “She’s awake! She’s awake!” Later I learned that the beating almost killed me. Evelyn and Nanny Wen guarded me for three days. Evelyn looked at me solemnly. “I will get justice for you.” I shook my head and refused. I was just a servant. How could I let two young misses fight and cause family discord over me? If they really fought because of this, the Madam would beat me to death. Evelyn was truly a noble lady. Her heart was good, but she was a bit naive. I lay in bed for three months before I could walk. Not long after I recovered, Evelyn asked me to go for a walk in the garden with her. Victoria happened to be chasing butterflies in the garden. She seemed to be having fun and had left her maids behind. There was no one around. Evelyn smirked at me, put a finger to her lips, and said “Shh.” The next second, she charged straight at Victoria’s back. Both of them fell into the water. I never thought Evelyn would take revenge for me this way. But seeing Evelyn struggling in the water, I couldn’t think too much. I screamed in horror, “Miss has fallen into the water!” While shouting, I jumped in to save her. Evelyn choked on a lot of water. The maids and I knelt in the courtyard, waiting for the Madam’s questioning. After the doctor said Evelyn was fine, the Madam began investigating the cause. Her face was dark. “What happened?” I cried out before anyone else, crawling to the Madam’s feet. “It was the Second Miss who pushed Miss Evelyn.” Just then, the Master and Concubine Chu walked in. Hearing this, Concubine Chu immediately retorted, “My Victoria is quiet and polite. She would never do such a thing as harming her sibling.” Victoria’s maid also crawled out to clarify for her mistress. “It wasn’t the Second Miss, it was… it was the Third Miss who bumped into the Second Miss.” “You weren’t even there, how can you slander our Miss?” I bit my lip, pointing at Victoria’s maid, face full of disbelief. “Our Miss has always been weak. Why would she frame the Second Miss and make herself suffer so much? The Second Miss has always hated our Miss. A while ago, this servant offended the Second Miss, and she was going to punish me. But then, she told me that as long as…” I covered my face and sobbed. The Madam, hearing this, got anxious. “As long as what?” “As long as this servant said that Miss Evelyn frequently beat, scolded, and abused me, she wouldn’t punish me.” I took the opportunity to tell the whole story from three months ago. Concubine Chu wanted to argue, but was silenced by the Madam’s glare. “Is what you said true?” I kowtowed heavily. “This servant swears on her life, every word is true.” The Madam sneered and looked at the Master. “You heard it. It was Victoria who harmed my Evelyn.” Concubine Chu tugged at the Master’s sleeve. The Master frowned. “Madam, it’s just children fighting…” The Madam interrupted him. “Fighting? Victoria wanted to ruin my daughter’s reputation, and now she wants to take her life. Is this fighting?” “You can’t fully trust a servant’s words.” The Madam slammed the table, making me tremble. “She’s only nine. Can she lie? It’s true that Victoria privately punished my daughter’s maid, and it’s true my daughter fell into the water. Such a vicious heart at such a young age. I think she’s been raised crooked by Concubine Chu. If we don’t discipline her, she’ll shame the Sterling family in the future.” The Madam was the daughter of a Marquis. She married down to the Master. He respected her, but didn’t love her. The Master coughed lightly. “Then what do you suggest, Madam?” The Madam snorted coldly. “Kneel in the ancestral hall for three days. I will hire someone to teach her rules properly!” Victoria knelt in the ancestral hall for three days as soon as she recovered. Her legs were swollen. She then studied under the Madam’s supervision for three months before being taken back by a wailing Concubine Chu. Evelyn had a fever for a whole day. Her first sentence upon waking up was: “Hope, I got revenge for you.” My eyes filled with tears. I just felt that since Evelyn treated me so well, I must protect her well in the future and never let her get hurt again. 4 Evelyn was in poor health, but she was lively and bold. When she first took me out dressed as men to jump the wall, I was terrified. But by the tenth time, I could jump over and catch Evelyn as she came down. “Hope is awesome. Sending you to learn martial arts wasn’t in vain.” I was helpless. I learned martial arts to protect her, not to help her jump walls. But Evelyn liked it, so it seemed okay. The capital was prosperous. It felt novel no matter how many times we visited. When we wandered to the entrance of a brothel, Evelyn excitedly wanted to go in. I desperately pulled her sleeve, looking like I was about to cry. “Miss, we really can’t go in there.” Evelyn was high-spirited. “This is a must-have element for time travel. If I don’t go once, I’ve come for nothing.” I was used to new vocabulary popping out of her mouth. Looking at her shining, expectant eyes, I couldn’t refuse. Fine. My kung fu was decent after these years. If something really happened, protecting Evelyn as we escaped shouldn’t be too hard. “Are you two waiting for someone?” A man walked towards us, blocking the probing gazes of others. “How did you know I’m a girl?” Evelyn was shocked. The man chuckled low. Evelyn looked suspiciously at her outfit. Turns out Evelyn could be silly too. Her male disguise wasn’t convincing at all. Even I could tell. But I didn’t say it. I didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. The man walked closer and whispered, “Miss Sterling should leave early. There are many people here, mixed company. If word gets out, it will be bad for your reputation.” After we left, Evelyn muttered, “I dressed as a man, how could he still tell I’m a woman? That’s not how it happens on TV.” Fortunately, Evelyn didn’t propose going to the brothel again.

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1 I bought a small slice of cake for my birthday. A gift to myself. I got home just as my sister was having one of her episodes. In the agonizingly slow minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive, my mom spotted the small cake box in my hand. All her fear and rage found a target. She lunged at me, and a sharp sting exploded across my cheek as her palm connected with my face. “Your sister is dying, and you have the nerve to be thinking about cake? How did I give birth to such a cold-hearted monster!” My dad’s foot slammed into the back of my knees, sending me crashing to the floor. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice a low growl. “If it wasn’t for Tina’s illness, we never would have had you!” The cake box hit the wall, splattering cream and crumbs across my shirt. I stared down at the mess, my head bowed. It felt like an eternity before I could speak. “Then you can just pretend I’m dead.” … The twisted fury on my parents’ faces froze, replaced by disbelief. “What did you just say?” I was a pathetic heap on the floor, my worn-out t-shirt smeared with buttercream. “I said,” I repeated, my voice surprisingly steady, a strange calm settling over me, “you can just pretend I’m dead.” My sister, Tina, was diagnosed with a rare congenital immune disease when she was three. She needed a bone marrow transplant. After my parents both proved to be incompatible donors, I was conceived to save her. Until I was six, I was passed around between relatives. The only time my parents ever appeared was when Tina had a flare-up, and they’d drag me, frantic and panicked, to the hospital. My entire childhood was a soundtrack of my own screams as thumb-thick needles plunged into my flesh, punctuated by my parents’ harsh commands to “hold still.” As I grew older, Tina’s staggering medical bills became a crushing weight. They pulled me out of school and forced me to study nursing, all so I could be a better caretaker for her. “You should be grateful to Tina,” they’d say, over and over again. “She’s the reason you exist.” “And I’d rather have never been born.” … Mom must have realized she’d gone too far, but her voice was still dripping with blame. “You know perfectly well your sister can’t eat cake because of her condition. You bought it just to spite her, didn’t you? I see right through you!” She snatched the ruined box and hurled it into the trash, the little fondant rabbit on top shattering into pieces. Then she turned to Tina, her voice melting into gentle sympathy. “Don’t you worry, my sweet Tina. In this house, no one will ever make you feel bad!” Dad’s face was a thundercloud. “How dare you talk back to us. You’re just asking for it, aren’t you?” The shouting had drawn the prying eyes of our neighbors, their faces peeking out from doorways. Mom immediately put on a mask of weary apology for their benefit. “Oh, please forgive the noise. Leah is just being a bit difficult. Her sister is having an attack, and she started a tantrum over wanting cake.” “Her father and I are trying to teach her some discipline. Tina’s so fragile, you know, and Leah will have to take care of her for the rest of her life. She can’t be so selfish!” She effortlessly painted me as the villain, directing the neighbors’ chorus of tuts and disapproving glares my way. But the truth was much simpler. I was just tired after a long day. I passed the bakery. The sweet scent pulled me in. I remembered it was my birthday. That’s all. The handprint on my cheek burned. I lifted my head, my gaze sweeping over the dining table, laden with an elaborate spread of dishes. “You know all of Tina’s favorite foods, her favorite jewelry… you have it all memorized.” A tear threatened to fall, but I blinked it back. My voice was barely a whisper. “Mom, do you even remember when my birthday is?” Her tirade stopped short. A flicker of confusion crossed her face. She didn’t remember. Just like she didn’t love me. I’d known this my whole life, but in that single, silent moment, the truth still managed to break me. The tears came, hot and silent. “August 19th,” I choked out. “It’s today.” “My eighteenth birthday.” I dropped my gaze, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Mom… what am I to you? Really?” For a second, I saw a flash of panic in her eyes. She opened her mouth, as if to offer some kind of explanation. But then a soft cough stole her attention. Tina’s eyes were red-rimmed. She coughed again, thumping a frail fist against her chest. “It’s all my fault,” she rasped, her voice thick with self-pity. “This useless body of mine… ruining my little sister’s birthday. I’m so sorry, Leah. Please, don’t be mad at Mom and Dad. It’s all my fault. You can hit me, yell at me, whatever you want…” With a dramatic flourish, she struggled to get up, as if she were about to kneel before me. I instinctively reached out to steady her, but a violent force slammed into me from behind. “Leah, that’s enough!” Dad roared, his eyes blazing with fury. “Tina is fighting for her life, and you’re still throwing a fit over a stupid piece of cake!” The kick sent me flying. My forehead smashed into the sharp corner of the table, and warm blood trickled down my face. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Tina’s tearful voice. “Oh, Leah, I envy you so much. You have a healthy body. You can celebrate your birthday like a normal person…” She let out a heart-wrenching sob. “Unlike me… I’m so sick I can’t even have a single bite of cake…” Her tears were all it took to melt our parents’ hearts and stoke the flames of their rage toward me. “Apologize to Tina. Now!” Dad commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. When I refused, his anger boiled over. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and started dragging me across the floor. The searing pain ripped a scream from my throat, which only seemed to enrage him more. “We had you for your sister’s sake! That’s it!” he snarled, yanking my head back. “If you can’t handle a little pain, how are you ever going to take care of her?” He forced me to my knees in front of Tina, slamming my head down against the floor. Once. Twice. Three times. Blood matted my hair and dripped onto the carpet. Only then did Tina speak, her voice slow and syrupy. “It’s okay, little sister. I forgive you.” She gave me a condescending smile. “Mom and Dad work so hard to keep this family afloat. You need to be more understanding and stop making them upset.” The neighbors cooed over how beautiful and kind and mature she was, how lucky our parents were to have such a wonderful daughter. No one spared a glance for the bleeding, broken girl in the corner. My heart, finally and completely, turned to stone. I staggered to my feet, desperate to escape. As I reached the front door, Dad’s icy voice cut through the air behind me. “You take one step out that door, and you are no longer a part of this family. You will have nothing to do with us ever again!” Decades of repressed emotion crashed over me like a tidal wave. A crushing weight settled on my chest, my breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. I collapsed, my body convulsing on the welcome mat. “Mom… help me…” I begged, my eyes finding hers. I thought, I hoped, that even if she didn’t love me, she wouldn’t just stand there and watch me die. But she just gave me a look of pure indifference. She even held up a hand to stop a concerned neighbor from approaching. “Don’t worry about her,” she said dismissively. “She’s always been a drama queen, pulling stunts like this for attention.” I stared at her, my world tilting on its axis. Her voice was cold as steel. “You tried this same trick ten years ago. It almost drove Tina to suicide. You really think I’m going to fall for it again?” Just then, the paramedics arrived. In a flurry of motion, they surrounded Tina, lifting her onto a stretcher. As they rushed her out, the last thing I heard before the darkness took me was my mother’s voice, laced with venom. “I will never forgive her for the scars on Tina’s body. Never.” When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm. A doctor with kind eyes sighed, his expression full of pity. “My dear girl… who did this to you?” My father’s parting gift. Three fractured bones. My phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Mom. “Where the hell are you? It’s past dinnertime! Don’t you know your sister can’t go hungry when she’s this weak?” she screeched the moment I answered. “Tina wants sweet and sour ribs! Get them made and bring them over! Now!” Not a single question about where I was, or if I was okay. It was an asthma attack, triggered by the intense emotional distress. If the neighbor hadn’t ignored my mother and called a second ambulance for me, I might be dead. The life I owed them would have been paid in full. “From now on,” I said into the phone, my voice flat, “I have nothing to do with you.” I hung up. The only sound was the steady drip of the IV. And suddenly, a memory surfaced. I was six years old. Thanks to my bone marrow, Tina’s condition had stabilized. My parents, celebrating her recovery, finally remembered the little daughter they had stashed with relatives. They came for me on a snowy day. They saw my too-short coat and my hands covered in chilblains, and for the first time, I saw guilt in their eyes. They took me to an amusement park, to a real restaurant, to the movies. They bought me new clothes, a new backpack, and a soft, cuddly doll I fell in love with instantly. That night, I fell asleep clutching my new doll while my mother hummed a lullaby. It was the first time she had ever been so gentle with me. That gentleness shattered the day they found out Tina had tried to kill herself. In a sterile hospital room, I met my sister for the first time. She was swimming in an oversized hospital gown, a pale, fragile creature huddled in the corner of her bed. But her eyes, when they met mine, were full of a stubborn, wounded pride. When she saw our parents holding my hand, she burst into tears. “I’m just a burden to you, aren’t I, Mommy?” she wailed. “Everyone says now that you have a new daughter, you don’t want me anymore!” Mom rushed to her, pulling her into a fierce embrace, but it did nothing to stop the flow of tears. “Just let me die, Mommy,” she sobbed. “You have Leah now, a healthy child… I can’t do anything…” That was the moment. That was the day my mother made her choice. She held Tina’s face in her hands and told her: “You are the only daughter I will ever have. Leah is just a tool, born for your sake.” I was too young to understand what those words truly meant. All I knew was that from that day on, everything changed. Mom stopped calling me her ‘sweetheart.’ She never bought me another piece of clothing. For a long time, she wouldn’t even let me call her ‘Mom.’ “I only have one daughter,” she would say, as if trying to convince both herself and me. But I refused to believe it. I stubbornly craved that sliver of affection I once had. The memories flickered through my mind like a broken film reel. The door to my hospital room swung open. My parents and Tina stood there. Mom’s eyes widened for a moment when she saw the bandages. “You’re really hurt?” But before she could say more, Tina shot me a look of disapproval. “Leah, I know you’re jealous of me, but you shouldn’t fake an injury and waste medical resources like this. What about the people who are actually sick?” A look of dawning comprehension spread across Mom’s face. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Leah, will you ever stop? Can’t you quit these pathetic little games?” Her gaze softened slightly as she took in my pale face. “Alright, alright. I know you’re just upset that we forgot your birthday.” She pulled a bright red folder from her purse, but she handed it not to me, but to Tina. “You know, you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for your big sister. So, on your birthday, the first gift should naturally go to Tina!” She presented the folder to Tina as if it were a trophy. “Tina, honey, Dad and I sold the old family home to buy this for you. We know your health is poor and you can’t work. This house… this is your safety net. Your security.” “With this, even when Dad and I are gone, no one will ever be able to push you around!” Tina opened it, her gasp echoing in the quiet room. “Oh my god! A half-a-million-dollar lakeside house! Dad, Mom, thank you so much!” She threw her arms around Mom’s neck. Dad watched them, his expression soft and loving. A perfect, happy family of three. And me, the unwelcome intruder. After their tearful reunion wound down, Mom finally seemed to remember I was there. “I know how you like to keep score, so don’t worry. We got something for you, too.” She shoved a cheap, old bracelet into my hand. The glass stone was murky and dull. The faded trinket in my palm was a pathetic contrast to the vibrant deed Tina clutched to her chest. Suddenly, the birthday present I had yearned for for so long seemed utterly meaningless. Without another word, right there in front of them, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Hello, I’d like to press charges.” “Against my own father.” At the police station, Dad finally snapped out of his stunned silence. “Can you stop this nonsense already?” was the first thing he said. “I hit you a couple of times, and you call the cops? Let me tell you something! You are my daughter! I raised you! It’s my right to discipline you, even if it means beating you to death!” He was panting, his eyes glaring at me as if I were his mortal enemy. Tina chimed in, her voice dripping with false concern. “She’s right, Leah. ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child.’ Dad was only doing it for your own good.” She turned to the officers with a helpless sigh. “My sister… she’s always been rebellious. She used to steal money and jewelry from our relatives when she was little. It only got worse as she got older. She dropped out of middle school, and… well…” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “She started sneaking out to spend the night with all sorts of men.” The air in the room shifted. Suddenly, every eye on me was filled with judgment. I trembled with rage. “Tina, you know damn well why I dropped out of school! How can you stand there and say that?” In ninth grade, I’d aced the city-wide exams. The best high schools were offering me full scholarships. All I had to do was show up. But then Tina had sighed one evening, “I envy Leah so much. She gets to have a normal, carefree school life. Unlike me… trapped by this body, I’ll never escape the hospital…” And just like that, my parents forced me to drop out. My teachers came to our house to plead my case. They promised I was university-bound. But nothing could sway my mother. “We’re a poor family,” she’d stated flatly. “We need Leah to get a job and earn money for her sister’s treatment.” But I knew the truth. It wasn’t about the money. She just couldn’t bear to see Tina sad. Before I could say anything else, Tina clutched her chest, a look of pain on her face. “I’m sorry, sister, I misspoke. Please don’t be angry…” That was all it took for Mom to lose it. “Enough!” she shrieked. “Tina was just trying to keep you from going down the wrong path! You should be grateful, but instead you scream at her? I’ve been too soft on you, and that’s why you think you can bully her over and over again!” Then, to my horror, Mom took out her phone, opened an app, and pointed the camera at me. “I should have listened to Tina from the start and put you on blast for the whole world to see what a monster you are!” Viewers flooded into the livestream. Fueled by my mother’s twisted narrative, a torrent of righteous fury was directed at me. 【These parents are too kind! That’s how you end up with a leech like her. I would’ve thrown her out years ago!】 【Exactly! Screaming at her sick sister? She’s doing it on purpose, the little psycho!】 … Watching the stream of hate-filled comments, Mom finally seemed satisfied. “See? Now you know how good we are to you.” “Oh, yes. Three broken bones. You’re just the best.” My voice was eerily calm, a stark contrast to the chaos on her screen. I looked past her, my eyes landing on Tina. “Doesn’t Tina remind you of someone?” I asked quietly. “Who?” Mom asked, caught off guard. “Evelyn.” Evelyn. The daughter my grandparents had adopted. My aunt. And my father’s unforgettable first love. At the sound of her name, the color drained from my father’s face. “Shut up! Don’t you dare say her name!” He was like a cornered animal, his anger mixed with a potent dose of guilt. This bizarre reaction didn’t escape my mother’s notice. “I remember Dad saying, back when he was drunk once, that Aunt Evelyn had the most enchanting, almond-shaped eyes.” My mother has soft, round eyes. I have her eyes. But Tina… Tina doesn’t look like our mother, or our father. She has the exact same almond-shaped eyes as Evelyn. Meeting my mother’s stunned gaze, I smiled and held out a document I had prepared. A declaration to sever all family ties. “Sign this,” I said, “and I’ll tell you a secret.”

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1 “I’m going to kill myself! My husband doesn’t love me anymore!” The moment I stepped into the clinic, I heard the shrill, tearful scream of a woman. I looked toward the source. A girl in a fluffy pink designer dress was standing by the window, holding a diamond-encrusted box cutter against her wrist, threatening to slice it open. My colleague pushed me forward, clasping her hands in a pleading gesture. “Wendy, thank God you’re here. This is Mrs. Sterling, wife of the Sterling Group heir, Gavin Sterling. She’s demanding a therapist with a happy marriage. You’re the best we’ve got. Please.” “Who?” I asked, a frown creasing my forehead. My husband’s name was Gavin, too. But he wasn’t an heir to a billion-dollar empire. He was just a long-haul trucker. It had to be a coincidence. Same name, different world. I suppressed the unease rising in my chest and took the clipboard. I scanned the intake form. Name of Spouse: Gavin Sterling. Seeing those two words in black ink made my heart lurch. A bad feeling wrapped around me like a cold mist. “Ms. Shaw, please come with me to the consultation room,” I said, forcing my best professional smile. Luna Shaw saw me and immediately dropped the cutter. She ran over, linking her arm through mine as if we were old friends, tears streaming down her face. “Dr. Sage, you have to help me. My husband has changed. I can’t lose him.” Her movements were natural, the actions of a girl who had been pampered and spoiled her entire life. Once inside, Luna whipped out her phone and shoved a photo in my face. “Look at him. Isn’t he gorgeous?” She beamed with pride. “We grew up together. He’s been following me around since we were four, calling me his ‘wifey.’ He used to be obsessed with me. I said I wanted the stars, so he bought me a star registry certificate for ten of them.” “I said I wanted the moon, so he sponsored a lunar mission just to get me a vial of moon dust.” “No matter how busy he was, he was always there. But two years ago… he went missing for three months. When he came back, he was different. He’s always ‘busy’ now. He goes on business trips for days at a time. I tracked him to this city, but when I called him thirty minutes ago, he let it ring twice before answering…” Luna kept rambling, but her voice turned into a dull buzz in my ears. My world was spinning. I stared at the man in the photo, my vision blurring with tears. It wasn’t a coincidence. The billionaire heir, Gavin Sterling, was my husband of nearly two years. Two years ago, on a rainy night, I found a man unconscious on the street. He’d been hit by a car. When he woke up, he remembered nothing but his first name: Gavin. I felt sorry for him, so I took him in. For those three months, his entire world revolved around me. We fell in love. Hard. He treated me like I was made of glass. He burned his hands making my favorite beef stew. He delivered food day and night just to buy me a birthday gift. He took nine stab wounds protecting me from a violent patient at the clinic. That was the day I agreed to marry him. We didn’t have a wedding. Just a pair of cheap pawn shop rings and a marriage license that I now realized was probably fake. The first month of marriage was bliss. He couldn’t keep his hands off me. He’d whisper in my ear, “I can never get enough of you, Wendy. I’d die for you…” Then, he disappeared for a whole day. When he came back, he was different. Polite. Distant. Even our intimacy became restrained. He told me he got a job as a long-haul trucker. He was gone twenty days a month. It turned out, he had just regained his memory. The time he wasn’t with me, he wasn’t driving a truck. He was being the Sterling heir, pampering his little princess. “Dr. Sage? Are you listening? Do you think if I actually kill myself, he’ll love me again?” Luna pouted, wiping a tear. Then she looked at me. “Oh my god! Dr. Sage, are you crying? You feel bad for me too, right? You’re such an empathetic doctor!” I quickly wiped my face. I hadn’t realized I was crying. Before I could speak, the clinic door slammed open. Gavin Sterling stormed in, shoving a nurse aside. When his eyes met mine, he froze. The color drained from his face. But it only took him a second to compose himself. He shot me a glare—a silent warning—before rushing to Luna and pulling her into his arms. “Hmph! What are you doing here?” Luna struggled, pounding his chest. “You don’t love me anymore!” “You’re killing me, Luna! My love for you is written in the sky! You are my everything!” His voice was low, magnetic, charming. I dug my nails into my palms. My chest felt like it was stuffed with cotton—suffocating, painful. I hadn’t heard him use that tone in so long. The last time was when we were newly married, arguing over whether to buy a roasted sweet potato on the street corner because we were broke. He had hugged me and said, “Wendy, I’m sorry I’m making you suffer. I swear, when I’m rich, I’ll buy you an island just to grow your favorite food…” We never bought that potato. But I was so moved I cried. Now, my eyes burned. I turned my head away. “Baby, if I ever have a change of heart, may lightning strike me down…” Gavin raised three fingers, swearing an oath. Luna immediately covered his mouth. He kissed her hand, completely ignoring my existence. Luna giggled, her anger gone, and let him carry her out of the room. I stood there, frozen. My heart felt like it was being sliced into ribbons. I don’t know how long I stood there. Eventually, I pulled out my phone and called my mom in Vancouver. “Mom… I’ll do it. I’ll immigrate.” “Really? Oh, honey, finally! Bring your husband. Your stepdad and I can support you both until you get settled.” “He’s not coming. I’ll file the paperwork tomorrow. See you next month.” I laughed bitterly. The heir to the Sterling empire didn’t need us to support him. I hung up, packed my things, and walked out of the clinic. Gavin was waiting for me by the entrance. “We need to talk.” 2 He was leaning against a Maybach, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, holding a cigarette that was burning down to the filter. The smoke obscured his expression. I paused, curled my fingers into fists, and nodded. It was my first time in his car. The passenger seat was clearly Luna’s territory—custom pink leather, completely out of place in the sleek vehicle. There was a pillow printed with their wedding photo. Acid rose in my throat. I moved the pillow to the back seat. Top-tier billionaires apparently liked tacky romance too. But he hadn’t taken a photo with me in over a year. We drove in silence to a high-end French restaurant. I recognized it. I’d seen it on TV. I used to tell Gavin how much I loved the décor, and he promised he’d save up to take me here for our anniversary. We were here now, but there was no joy. Only dread. Gavin ordered in fluent French, snapped the napkin onto his lap, and finally looked at me. “When did you find out who I was?” His voice was calm. No love. No guilt. I gripped the hem of my dress under the table. “Today. When I saw you.” “Hm.” He poured me a glass of wine. “Keep quiet. Don’t let this get back to Luna, and I’ll consider keeping the status quo.” What? I stared at him, unable to process the words. “You… you want me to be your mistress?” “Mistress? I don’t have romantic feelings for you, and frankly, your body isn’t that appealing…” He scoffed, swirling his wine. “You took care of me. I was repaying a debt. But now? It’s unnecessary. Five million dollars. To buy out the ‘life-saving grace.’ Is that enough?” My heart stopped. Even expecting the worst, his words were daggers. To him, I wasn’t even worthy of being a mistress. “What about our marriage license?” I asked, biting my lip until it tasted like iron. “I had amnesia. I made up an identity. That license is legally void,” he frowned, looking annoyed. “The feelings I had when I lost my memory were real, sure. But look at us. We aren’t from the same world. If no one had popped this bubble, I might have kept playing house. But now? I don’t want Luna to be sad.” Tears welled up, but I pinched my thigh to stop them. The happiness I cherished was just charity to him. “Fine,” I whispered, swallowing the blood from my lip. “Five million. To buy out my saving your life.” I wasn’t going to be stupid. I deserved that money. To pay his medical bills back then, I worked three jobs. I sold the only thing my late father left me. If we were cutting ties, we were cutting them clean. Gavin nodded, satisfied. “I’ll have the lawyers draft it. Eat. Didn’t you always want to come here?” He brought me here on purpose? I picked up my knife and fork. The silence was deafening. I cut the steak, my knuckles white. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was a custom ringtone of Luna’s voice. “Hubby, pick up the phone!” He answered on the first ring. “Luna? Don’t be scared, I’m coming!” Panic flooded his face. He stood up immediately. He took two steps, then turned back and grabbed my arm. “You’re coming too!” “What?” “You’re a therapist. Luna had a nightmare. You need to comfort her!” He dragged me to the car and sped up the mountain to his private estate. He dragged me into Luna’s bedroom. She was crying hysterically. Seeing us, she ignored me and threw herself into his arms. “Gavin, I was so scared! I dreamt you left me!” He held her like she was precious porcelain. “I won’t leave. Don’t be silly. You are always in my heart. Look.” He pulled down his collar, revealing a tattoo under his left collarbone. An artistic letter ‘L’. “My heart only has you.” He guided her hand to the tattoo. The sight blinded me. I had always thought the ‘L’ was a stylized ‘W’ for Wendy. I used to cry while putting ointment on it, touching it tenderly while he slept. He must have been laughing at me the whole time. I turned to leave. “Where are you going?” Gavin’s voice was ice cold. “I told you to comfort her.” I wiped my eyes. “Sorry. Not my job.” “You don’t want your father’s watch back?” he threatened. I spun around. “You found the watch?” I had sold my father’s vintage watch to pay for Gavin’s surgery. It was my biggest regret. “Did you find it?” I asked, my voice trembling. He stared at me coldly. “Comfort her.” I compromised. I walked to the bed. 3 As soon as I got close, Luna threw a pillow at my face. “Why were you with my husband?” she shrieked. “I don’t want you near him!” Gavin hugged her tight. “Luna, shh. I thought you’d like a story from a professional. That’s why I brought her.” “I don’t want other women around you! Get her out! Get out!” She threw another pillow. “Okay, okay.” Gavin kissed her forehead, then turned to the bodyguards. “What are you staring at? Throw her out!” Before I could say a word, two men grabbed me and dragged me out of the villa. It was late autumn. The mountain air was freezing. I stood outside the gate, shivering. I couldn’t get a cab up here. I had to walk down. I remembered when we first met. We went to the mountains to volunteer. We missed the last bus. Gavin carried me on his back for two hours. His cheap shoes gave him blisters, but he didn’t complain. “Blisters heal, Wendy. As long as you’re okay. I’ll never let you suffer.” That Gavin was dead. My heel got stuck in a crack in the asphalt. I tripped, skinning my palms. Pain shot through me. I sat on the cold road and wept until I had no tears left. I limped down the mountain. By the time I got back to the city, the sun was up. I went straight to the immigration office and paid for the expedited processing. Fifteen days. Then I resigned from the clinic. Just as I walked out, Gavin called. “Go pick up Luna’s evening gown and bring it to me. I sent the address. You have forty minutes.” “Gavin, we’re done. I don’t work for you,” I said. He laughed. “Don’t want the watch? Luna knows about you now. Come apologize to her. Now.” He hung up. I gritted my teeth and went. I found them in the VIP lounge of the hotel. The door was slightly ajar. Gavin was on the sofa. Luna was straddling his lap, teasing him. “Luna, let me…” Gavin groaned, his voice thick with lust and love. “No! I’m still mad you were with that cheap woman, Wendy!” Luna sobbed. “I was ambushed by my brother, I had amnesia! I really didn’t know,” Gavin explained hoarsely. “Since I got my memory back, I only touched her once. And that was because I was drunk and thought she was you…” “She means nothing to me. I’m giving her money to disappear. Believe me, I only love you. If you don’t let me have you, I’m going to explode.” Outside the door, my face went pale. When he was with me, he never asked. He just took. He used to say, “Wendy, I love you too much, I can’t control myself.” I thought it was passion. It turns out, when he truly respects a woman, he begs for permission. “Just… just once then,” Luna whispered. I watched them. I listened to them. “What about Wendy? How should we punish her for stealing my husband?” Luna panted. “Whatever you want, baby. Make her your dog if you want. Just let me love you…” 4 My blood turned to ice. I bit my tongue until I tasted copper to keep from screaming. I placed the gown box on the floor and walked away. Around the corner, I collapsed against the wall, clutching my chest. It hurt. It physically hurt to breathe. I cried until I felt empty. Then I washed my face, fixed my makeup, and texted Gavin. I was getting that watch. “Wendy Sage! You bitch! Liar!” The moment I entered the ballroom, a slap echoed across my face. Luna stood there, furious. “You stole my husband! Were you laughing at me in the clinic?” “I didn’t know,” I said, holding my stinging cheek. “Until I saw him, I didn’t know. It was a misunderstanding.” “If I hadn’t come here and investigated, you two would have kept sneaking around!” Luna’s eyes were red. “You stole him! You deserve to die!” She signaled the bodyguards. They surrounded me. “What are you doing?” I backed up. “I hate when people touch my things. Especially my men. Wendy, get on your knees, slap yourself, apologize, and lick my shoes clean!” Luna demanded, chin high. “No. That’s unreasonable…” “She can do whatever she wants.” Gavin walked over, looking elegant and cruel. He wrapped an arm around Luna. “My Luna gets what she wants.” He nodded to the guards. They forced me down in front of Luna. I looked up at him. “I did nothing wrong. I won’t apologize. Gavin, I agreed to leave…” Slap. Luna hit me again. “Apologize!” I turned my head, refusing. She hit me again. And again. Gavin watched coldly. Only after the third slap did he catch her hand. “You feel bad for her?” Luna pouted. “Your hand is getting red. It hurts me to see you in pain,” he said tenderly. “Let the guards do the dirty work.” Luna giggled and snuggled into him. “Okay. Beat her until she apologizes.” Gavin smirked and nodded at the guard. The guard was heavy-handed. Two slaps and I tasted blood. But I wouldn’t break. Luna stomped her foot. Gavin narrowed his eyes and pulled a worn leather watch from his pocket. “Still won’t apologize?” He dangled it in front of me. My eyes burned. “Dad’s watch! Give it to me!” So he had it the whole time. “Give it back!” I screamed. Gavin looked at me without emotion. My strength left me. I slumped to the floor. “I’m sorry, Miss Shaw. Two years ago, I shouldn’t have saved him. I shouldn’t have loved him. It was my fault. I was wrong…” Gavin’s hand stiffened. His chest felt tight. Before he could speak, Luna snatched the watch. “Is that an apology or a demand? You want this trash?” She threw the watch into a large decorative display filled with cacti. “No!” I screamed, pushing past people, diving into the planter. Thorns pierced my skin instantly. “Whoever finds it first gets fifty thousand dollars! Find it and smash it!” Luna yelled. The crowd surged forward. I found the watch, curling around it to protect it. People stepped on me. They tore at my clothes. Thorns dug deeper. Blood soaked my dress. Someone ripped the watch from my hand. He ran to Luna, smashed it on the marble floor, and stomped on it until the face shattered into dust. My heart shattered with it. I truly regretted it. I regretted ever loving Gavin Sterling.

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1 When my little brother was born, my father’s business finally started taking off. I thought my days of suffering were over, but my biological mother declared me a curse. She said we were poor because of me, and my brother was the family’s lucky star. If they didn’t get rid of me, I’d drag the whole family down. So, I was sold to my aunt and uncle. Years later, I got into Stanford, and my aunt and uncle were rolling in money. My biological parents, meanwhile, were struggling to put food on the table. They clung to our doorstep, refusing to leave. They cried, begging me to come back: “You still have our blood running through your veins!” When I was five, my brother was born, and my mother decided to sell me overnight to the old man in the next village. I knelt on the floor, begging her not to send me away. I kowtowed until my forehead bled, sobbing uncontrollably. That old man was bad news. He was old, unmarried, and often wandered the village without clothes. Every kid in the village was terrified of him. Everyone said he was crazy. After my brother was born, Dad’s business boomed. Overnight, it seemed like money was no longer an issue. They quickly bought a huge house in the city and a luxury car. Just before we were supposed to move, Mom said I was bad luck. If I stepped foot in the new house, their good fortune wouldn’t last. The old man from the next village offered a hundred dollars for me. My parents didn’t hesitate. It was like they couldn’t even hear me crying. That day, with blood trickling down my forehead, my parents were about to sign the contract the old man handed them. Catching the malicious glint in the old man’s eyes, I felt dead inside. I was young, but I knew: once they signed, I belonged to him. A terrifying unknown loomed over me… My parents selling their daughter right after getting rich caused a huge stir. My uncle pedaled his beat-up bicycle through the night to stop the sale. “Are you sure about this? She’s a curse! Don’t say I didn’t warn you when things go south!” My mother pointed at me on the ground, her face twisted in disgust. My father looked at my uncle like he was an idiot. They couldn’t believe anyone would fight over a jinx like me. My uncle took out a handkerchief and pressed it to my bleeding forehead. “I don’t have a daughter anyway. Since you don’t want her, I’ll raise her.” My tears burst forth again. Thank god. I didn’t have to go with the old man. My uncle took out a hundred and twenty dollars and handed it to my father. “Let’s sign the papers. From now on, this girl is my daughter.” “I’m offering twenty more. You gonna fight me for her?” My uncle glared coldly at the old man. The old man looked unhappy, like a tasty meal had been snatched from his jaws. But he didn’t raise his bid. My parents agreed instantly. Selling me was selling me, right? Plus, Uncle offered more. As long as I was out of their house, they didn’t care. After signing and fingerprinting the papers, with the village chief as a witness, the deal was done. My mother got into a sedan, holding my brother, and my father drove away without a single backward glance. I threw myself into my uncle’s arms, sobbing my heart out. “Uncle, Mom and Dad don’t want me anymore.” His large hand stroked my head gently, his voice warm and comforting. “Sweetheart, even though I bought you for a hundred and twenty bucks, you have to remember—you are priceless.” “You are Uncle’s priceless treasure.” “Be my daughter, and I’ll spoil you rotten.” Just like that, clutching my patched-up clothes, I moved in with my uncle’s family. 2 My uncle lived in a remote area. He pedaled a long way with me on the back of his bike. Just when I thought we were almost there, he took a detour to buy a pound of pork. “Sweetheart, before we go home, let’s change your name.” My last name was Liu. My parents had always wanted a son. When I was born, they went to a fortune teller. The fortune teller said they were destined to have a son, but they couldn’t be too good to me. Even my name had to pave the way for my brother. He suggested names like “Beckoning Brother” or “Hoping for Brother.” But my mother didn’t hesitate. She named me “Cheap Girl.” Yes, my name was Liu Jiannü—Liu Cheap Girl. I was young, but I knew it was an ugly name. The village kids wouldn’t play with me because of it. They’d circle around me, throwing stones and shouting my name, laughing. Until my parents abandoned me, my name was the village joke. No one thought it was wrong. It seemed I was born with a cheap fate. A cheap girl in the family. But now, my uncle touched my head with pity, his eyes rimmed with red. “Let’s go. Uncle will find someone to give you a new name, okay?” “Our girl is so pretty; she needs the prettiest name!” Uncle went to the village chief. He named me “Joy.” Meaning eloquent and full of happiness. “Joy… Lin Joy… Nice, very nice!” Uncle muttered, holding my hand. “Do you like your new name, sweetheart?” Uncle picked me up and carried me home. I finally smiled. I was too scared to show it fully, so I buried my face in his broad back and grinned secretly. My smile grew wider and wider. I finally had a beautiful name. I wanted to run back to the village and brag. Let those people who looked down on my name hear this! But starting today, I didn’t belong there anymore. I had someone protecting me now. When Uncle brought me home, my aunt and cousin were there. They only had one son at the time. He was four years older than me. Uncle held my hand and, meeting Aunt’s confused gaze, cheerfully explained, “Didn’t you always want a daughter?” “Here she is. Her name is Lin Joy. From now on, she’s our daughter. She lives here.” Aunt’s face, which had been relatively kind, fell instantly. She didn’t say a word and went straight to her room. My cousin was at that mischievous age. Seeing me, he threw a tantrum at Uncle. “She’s not my sister! She’s Auntie’s kid! She’s not my sister!” Uncle tweaked his ear. “Behave! She is your sister. Her last name is Lin now. She’s family!” Cousin ran crying to his mom. Uncle was handy. He set up a small cot for me next to my cousin’s bed. Considering I was a girl, he hung a curtain around it for privacy. “Joy, make do with sharing a room with your brother for now, okay?” “When Uncle makes big money, I’ll get you the biggest, prettiest room.” I nodded obediently. “Bragging again? Don’t you know how poor we are?” Aunt’s voice drifted from the other room. Uncle and I looked at each other and giggled. He lowered his voice. “Joy, ignore your aunt. She’s all bark and no bite.” I knew. Uncle and Aunt were my saviors. I silently vowed to be good to them. Compared to my birth family’s sudden wealth, Uncle’s family was truly poor. And Uncle had spent a huge chunk of their hard-earned savings on me. 3 “Why did you bring her back? You spent almost all our savings!” “I’m asking you! What about our son’s tuition?” “Are we all going to starve?” Uncle and Aunt’s room was right next door. Because of the new environment, I couldn’t sleep. The walls were thin, and I heard them arguing. Did I really cost Uncle all his savings? I clenched my fists, afraid to breathe. I was terrified Aunt would send me away. I didn’t want to go to the old man in the next village. But Uncle cheerfully comforted her. “But I treat Joy like my own daughter.” “Didn’t we agree before we got married that we wanted a son and a daughter? Look, fate brought her to us!” I heard Aunt retort, “Don’t give me that nonsense.” “I wanted a daughter, yes, but look at our situation.” “And your sister and brother-in-law… you know what they’re like!” “What if we raise her and they come back for her?” Uncle lowered his voice. “Keep it down, don’t wake the kids.” “We have a son and a daughter now. No matter how hard it gets, as long as the four of us stick together, things will get better.” My heart finally settled. A long time later, the door opened. Uncle came in, tucked me in, and kissed the top of my head. “Enough already. I don’t see you being this attentive to your son,” Aunt muttered from the doorway. Uncle whispered as he locked the door, “I just adore my daughter.” That night, my pillow was soaked with tears. When I woke up, my cousin was startled by the dark circles under my eyes. He screamed that I was a ghost. Aunt twisted his ear impatiently. “Why are you yelling all day? Go serve your sister some porridge!” I looked up at Aunt, a feeling of acceptance spreading in my heart. Unlike Uncle’s gentleness, Aunt had a fiery temper. She was strict with both me and my cousin. I knew it was because she treated me like her own child. Her “tough love” parenting style was fully displayed. For example, sticking chopsticks vertically into my rice bowl got my hand smacked. She said it was rude and showed a lack of breeding. My cousin went through a phase of swearing, and Aunt beat him until he learned his lesson. After that, he’d only recite ancient poetry around us. Crossing legs, slouching—we both got our fair share of beatings for bad posture. Uncle watched with heartache. He’d sneak me lollipops and comfort me. He said Aunt just didn’t want us to pick up bad habits. She wanted us to be upright people. Not to develop bad habits just because we were poor. Not to be looked down upon by anyone. Poverty is not an excuse for depravity. Some bad habits, once formed, follow you for life. 4 Uncle sold steamed buns. He and Aunt got up at 3 or 4 AM to make them. Then Uncle would transport them to town. Having his own shop was Uncle’s lifelong dream. After selling buns in the morning, he worked construction. Aunt helped out at home. My cousin and I often helped plant peanuts and beans after school. During harvest, we got up early to work in the fields. At dawn, we’d run home to eat breakfast and sprint to school. Even though we were poor, Uncle and Aunt decided to send me to school. I didn’t disappoint them; I was always top of my class. One day after school, Aunt was sitting in the living room with a dark face. “Why did you fight a classmate?” She held a feather duster, clearly angry. “The teacher said you shoved a student’s head into the toilet!” “Lin Joy! We send you to school, and this is how you repay us?” “What’s the reason!” I pursed my lips and refused to say a word. Aunt rolled up my pant leg and whacked me with the feather duster. Until Uncle came back and shielded me. They had a big argument. Uncle said she shouldn’t hit the child. Aunt yelled at him, “Then you teach her! You brought her back!” That day, I buried my head in the doorframe, remembering my birth mother’s words. She said I was a jinx, a curse… Maybe I was. During lunch, my cousin came home and went out again. Uncle and Aunt were giving each other the silent treatment. After lunch, Uncle applied ointment to my legs. “Joy, does it hurt?” He blew gently on my legs. I shook my head. After applying the medicine, he pulled me into his arms. “Our Joy has always been sensible.” “There must be a reason for the fight, right?” “Tell Uncle, okay?” I still stayed silent. Later, my cousin ran back, out of breath. He shoved a lollipop into my hand and called Uncle and Aunt out. “You dummy! Why didn’t you say anything when you were bullied? Am I invisible?” Cousin explained what happened. I fought because someone crossed the line. Classmates found out I wasn’t Uncle and Aunt’s biological child. So they spread rumors that I was a jinx, a disaster. That my birth parents sold me because of it. Hearing this, I was calm. Because it was true. My birth parents didn’t want me. But I didn’t feel unlucky. On the contrary, I was lucky. I met Uncle and Aunt. I came to a loving home. But the classmates went too far. They started cursing my Uncle and Aunt. Saying my Uncle’s family would die horrible deaths for adopting a jinx like me. Uncle and Aunt taught us to be tolerant. But that day, I couldn’t take it anymore. Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin were good people. I wouldn’t let these scumbags insult them! When they provoked me again and again, I taught them a lesson. I poured toilet water into their mouths and shoved their heads into the sink. Since their mouths were dirty, I thought I’d clean them. In that moment, I even wanted to end it all with them. The commotion in the bathroom attracted attention, and someone called the teacher. The teacher looked at me with a complicated expression and told me to call my parents.

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Six months pregnant, I decided to surprise my husband after he texted that he missed me. My best friend Joanna was driving me home through the mountains when a landslide struck. A boulder shattered the window and hit my stomach. Blood soaked the seat. Terrified, Joanna called my husband Nick. I cried for help, but he snapped, “I’m rescuing Lily—she twisted her ankle. Don’t bother me now!” and hung up. Joanna called her husband, Nick’s brother. He yelled, “If Lily’s hurt, your friend miscarries? Call an ambulance! Don’t waste my time!” A kind driver took us to the hospital, but it was too late. I lost the baby. Lying weak in bed, I whispered, “I’m filing for divorce.” Joanna replied softly, “Me too.” 1 As soon as I had a sliver of strength back, I texted Nick the two words: I’m divorcing you. I waited all night. Finally, his call came through. The connection was terrible, his voice cutting in and out, but his fury was crystal clear. “Jessica, I’ve been out in a damn storm all night, rescuing people, and you’re pulling this crap with me? Divorce?” “You’re at your parents’ house, safe and sound, and you’re telling me you were hit by a rock in the mountains? Who are you trying to fool? Do you have any idea how critical the golden hour is in a rescue? The thirty seconds you wasted on the phone could have saved a life!” “This is because you saw Lily’s post, isn’t it? You think something’s going on between us? She was just camping with the team! We’ve known each other for twenty years. If something was going to happen, it would have happened long before you came along. The signal’s crap out here. Don’t bother me unless it’s a real emergency!” “And if I see you use divorce to threaten me one more time, don’t expect me to be nice about it. I have no problem with my child not having a mother!” Static crackled on the line. A bitter smile twisted my lips. “So this is what you meant when you said you missed me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. His anger flared again. “What message? I’m swamped. Lily’s been holding my phone for me. When would I have time to text you? Stop with the passive-aggressive act. Lily needs her dressing changed. I’m hanging up!” Before I could even process his words, the line went dead. I stared at the blank screen, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. I remembered the text now, the out-of-character emoji that followed the words. No wonder the man who hadn’t shown a flicker of concern for my six-month pregnancy had suddenly missed me. The only tender message I’d received in three years of marriage, and it was courtesy of his childhood sweetheart. And it had cost me my child’s life. The physical pain from the rock was nothing compared to the agony ripping through my heart. The tears flowed freely, but I couldn’t bring myself to dial his number again. I was afraid of who might answer. The incision on my abdomen throbbed, and my mind flashed back to the accident. The rock crushing my stomach, the last of my strength spent pleading with him for help. All I could hear from his end was Lily’s pained whimper. I kept screaming Nick’s name, telling him where I was. We were only three miles apart, but it felt like an ocean. Blood was pouring out of me, and I could barely breathe. He didn’t hang up. After what felt like an eternity, I heard Lily’s sweet, lilting voice. “If it weren’t for you, Nicky, I don’t know if I’d ever walk again. Thank you!” I looked at Joanna’s pale, terrified face, and a wave of guilt washed over me. Before I could end the call, Nick’s cold voice cut in. “Why are you still on the line? I’m busy. Can you stop bothering me? There’s a time and a place for your drama.” “You know the demands of my job! If you’re going to be my wife, you need to learn to be independent!” The line clicked. For a fleeting moment, I thought it might be better to be dead. Sensing my despair, Joanna snatched the phone and furiously sent Nick a voice message. “You’re a disgrace to your profession! You, a rescuer? The only reason you save people is to atone for your own sins! People like you should just die and go to hell!” She sent the message, and tears streamed down her face. She tried to move the rock off me, but she wasn’t strong enough. So she ran out into the storm, standing in the middle of the road, flagging down cars. Finally, a kind soul agreed to take us to the hospital. I was saved. But I lost my child. And even then, I wasn’t out of the woods. 2 Joanna had saved my life, but she was drowning in guilt. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed by my bedside. “If I had just learned first aid… if I had checked the weather forecast before we left… if I hadn’t agreed to pick you up, maybe this wouldn’t have happened…” Her tears fell faster than she could wipe them away. “I heard this hospital collaborates with Mark’s. I used his name to request a specialist consult for you. The doctors said your condition is critical. If we don’t do something soon, you might lose your uterus…” Just then, Mark, her husband, called, his voice sharp with accusation. “Joanna, are you in the mountains? Are you following me? Don’t you have anything better to do? I wouldn’t have even known if the hospital hadn’t called me!” “Don’t you know there was a landslide? Can you stop making trouble? Lily being here is a coincidence! She’s not my only patient! And can you please stop hanging out with that crazy friend of yours? Is stupidity contagious?” “I’ve explained this to you a thousand times. What will it take for you to trust me? One day you’re talking about learning first aid, the next you’re using my name to monopolize hospital resources. Can you just be normal for once? If you keep this up, I’ll be the one asking for a divorce!” He hung up. Joanna stared at her phone, at the picture of the two of them on her wallpaper, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. I had never regretted my marriage more than I did in that moment. The room was silent, save for the soft sound of our tears. Nick didn’t believe I had a miscarriage. Mark didn’t believe Joanna trusted him. Our relationships were a mistake from the start. Our stubbornness had only pushed us further down the wrong path. And turning back had cost me half my life. 3 The news was a constant stream of updates on the disaster in the mountains. Lily had signed up as a volunteer, working alongside the two brothers to aid in the rescue and rebuilding efforts. A reporter somehow got wind of their childhood connection, and suddenly, the three of them—working together, caring for each other—became the new media darlings. Cameras followed them everywhere, live-streaming their every move. The brothers, usually private people who shunned the spotlight, were persuaded by Lily to smile for the cameras. The internet went wild. They were a trio of perfect, shippable combinations. Fan groups sprouted up, churning out daily content. The actual disaster became a footnote to their love triangle. At first, Joanna tried to shield me from it all, worried it would affect my recovery. But she was a terrible liar. Who stares at their phone with a murderous rage while “casually browsing”? I snatched a look when she wasn’t paying attention and saw the three of them, side-by-side, giving an interview in front of a relief tent. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. The pain in my abdomen had faded to a dull, numb ache. Joanna came in with my dinner and saw what I was watching. Her face flushed with a mixture of pity and anger. “Those three bastards! Wasting resources during a disaster! Who watches the news for this soap opera crap?” “I’m calling the station to complain!” I put a hand on hers, stopping her. “Don’t,” I said, my voice weak. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Really.” Maybe my love for him had died quietly during those six months of pregnancy, with every unanswered call, every ignored text. What kind of marriage required my elderly parents to make excuses for my husband? Joanna looked at my stoic face and turned off the live stream. The screen reverted to her call log, where her furious divorce threats to her husband lay unanswered. Both brothers had changed their profile pictures to a shot from that interview, the three of them together. I managed a hollow laugh and took the food from her. Every day after that, Joanna and I took turns calling them, our single message the same: divorce. But the calls never went through. On the seventh day, Joanna stared at the disconnected call screen, a vein throbbing in her temple. I forced a bitter smile. “Maybe the cell towers are down. We can wait a few more days. What’s a few more days, right?” After all, I had already wasted three years. But Joanna was done waiting. She borrowed a nurse’s phone and dialed Nick’s number again. This time, surprisingly, he answered. Hearing his familiar voice, a dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips. My eyes were too raw to produce any more tears. All that was left was the pain. Three years of marriage, and it had come to this: being blocked. I took a breath and spoke, my voice cold. “Nick, when you get back, let me know. We’re getting a divorce. And tell your brother—he’s getting one, too.” His voice shot up, sharp and incredulous. “What is wrong with you? Hasn’t a week been long enough for you to cool down? Don’t you watch the news? I’m in the middle of something important! Lily is out here helping with a sprained ankle, and you’re what? Pregnant? You expect me to treat you like a queen?” “I’m busy. I don’t have time to deal with your mood swings! If it’s hormones, take a pill!” Before I could reply, I heard Lily scream on his end, followed by the thud of a phone hitting the ground. Nick’s voice was trembling. “Lily? What happened?” “It’s nothing! Just an ant on my shoe! It startled me!” Her voice was cloyingly sweet. “Was that Jessica? I’m so jealous. No one’s called to check on me this whole time…” Nick chuckled, his voice dripping with affection. “Silly girl. Haven’t I been right here with you?” I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling a sob. But the humiliation and despair were relentless, seeping into the raw, gaping wound of my heart. Joanna snatched the phone from me, her other hand gently rubbing my chest, trying to calm me. 4 Another week in the hospital. A steady stream of injured people were brought in from the mountains, but I never saw a familiar face. Our numbers were completely blocked. Joanna and I unspokenly agreed to stop mentioning the live streams. For seven days, it was as if they had vanished from our world. Then, during my final check-up, a nurse mentioned that Lily, the volunteer, had slipped on a hillside and needed to be brought to the hospital immediately. Joanna and I exchanged a look. She packed my things and handled my discharge paperwork. When she came back, she was muttering to herself. “It’s so empty today. Took me forever to get this done. Only one window was open…” “They’re probably all out helping with the transport. They should be back soon,” I said, not thinking much of it. We walked out of the hospital, my arm linked with hers. I was planning to find a print shop for the divorce papers when we ran straight into them—the two brothers, surrounded by a swarm of reporters and patients. Nick was in the lead, cradling Lily in his arms. “Out of the way! Where’s the emergency room? Get the hell out of my way!” Mark followed, trying to maintain some semblance of order, his face etched with worry. His angry shouts were lost in a chorus of thanks from the onlookers. My heart sank. It was now or never. I plunged into the crowd. Joanna yelped in surprise but couldn’t hold me back. The throng of reporters pushed and shoved, my cotton dress twisting and pulling. I shouted Nick’s name, but they dismissed me as just another crazed fan. “Captain Miller and Miss Vance are childhood sweethearts! A washed-up hag like you has no chance! Put on some makeup, you look like a ghost!” There was no time to explain. I was swept along with the crowd to the emergency room. With a final burst of strength, I threw myself against the doorframe, blocking their path. Nick finally saw me. I gasped for breath. “Divorce! Today! As soon as you drop her off, you’re coming with me!” In his arms, Lily winced, but her eyes were sharp, calculating. Nick’s barely contained rage finally exploded. “When are you going to stop? You followed us all the way out here? Now you see we were actually working, are you satisfied? This is a life-or-death situation! Get the hell out of my way!” Life-or-death. She probably had a few scrapes and bruises. A mocking smile touched my lips, but I didn’t move. Mark finally broke free and saw what was happening. He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. “Have you lost your mind? And you dragged my wife into this? You’re pregnant, for God’s sake! Can you stop being so selfish?” At that moment, Joanna shoved her way through the crowd and slapped him hard across the face. “You know exactly what you’ve done! A man who doesn’t care about his own child being hailed as a hero? Your brother is a piece of trash!” Mark stared at her, stunned that she would hit him. His eyes turned red with fury. He grabbed her by the collar and started dragging her away. “I’ve been too good to you, haven’t I? You keep this up, and we’re getting a divorce, too!” The reporters, sensing a new story, turned their cameras on them. The pressure on Nick eased. He was about to step through the door. I was frantic, my body trembling. I threw myself in front of him. The next thing I knew, I was flying backward. He had kicked me. The freshly stitched incision on my abdomen tore open. Blood soaked through my dress. I collapsed to the floor, a strangled scream escaping my lips. It was only then that Nick seemed to realize what he had done. He froze, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. His eyes drifted down to my flat stomach. “Jess,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Where’s… where’s our baby?”

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I ordered the first pumpkin spice latte of the season. One sip, and a strange, fishy smell shot straight to my brain. Something was wrong. I immediately messaged the shop. The owner swore up and down that everything was sealed and sanitary, even sending a video of the process to prove his innocence. To show his sincerity, he sent me a fresh one for free. But this time, I received a DM from the delivery driver: [Tsk. Is my special sauce that good? You want another cup?] [Wait for me. I’m coming up! I’ll give it to you fresh…] Boom! My brain exploded. That fishy smell was… My hands shook as I dialed 911. But the next second, a slimy, excited male voice came from outside my door: “Hey beautiful, didn’t you want your latte? Open the door and sign for it!” 01 My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew I had encountered a predator. Suppressing my fear, I tiptoed to the door. Through the peephole, I saw a man in a yellow delivery uniform. His cap was pulled low, hiding most of his face. He stood motionless outside my door, holding a takeout bag. I was terrified. I didn’t dare make a sound. With trembling fingers, I texted 911. Only when I got the confirmation reply did I relax my grip on the phone, realizing my palms were slick with sweat. I absolutely could not open the door before the police arrived. BANG! BANG! BANG! The sudden pounding made me jump. “What the hell? Are you not home?” The driver’s voice rose, laced with agitation. He kicked the door hard. The frame shook violently, and I almost screamed. I clamped my hand over my mouth. The driver scratched his head aggressively. “So boring. I rejected ten other orders just to come here. Thought I could have some fun. Just my luck!” SPLAT. He smashed the latte onto the floor. Watching him turn to leave, I started to relax— Then my phone rang at max volume! 02 Shit! I forgot to mute it! I fumbled with the phone, pressing the wrong buttons in my panic. By the time I silenced it and looked back through the peephole, I was staring directly into a bloodshot eye. I stumbled back two steps. I quickly covered the peephole with my hand. “Hey beautiful, so you are home. Why don’t you come out and get your order?” His disgusting voice seeped through the door. I quickly pulled up a recording of a deep male voice I kept for emergencies. “Just leave it at the door.” He paused, clearly not expecting a man inside. But he persisted: “No can do. Boss said this is a remake, I have to watch you check it personally.” I played the next recording, more aggressive this time: “I said leave it at the door! Stop yapping or I’ll come out there and wreck you!” It worked. His voice instantly turned submissive: “S-sorry bro! I’m leaving!” He stuttered. “L-latte is here. Please don’t give a bad review!” I counted his fading footsteps. Until I heard the elevator ding. Only then did I collapse on the floor, gasping for air. 03 The hallway was dead silent. Even the mechanical hum of the elevator was gone. Just the thumping of my own heart. I gathered my courage to look through the peephole again. But it was pitch black. Like something was blocking it. My blood froze. A chill shot up my spine. Did he really leave? Or was he squatting right outside the door, waiting for me? The thought made me shiver. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A DM from the driver: [You’re naughty. You’re alone, right? Trying to trick me?] [So slutty, wearing red heels. Since you’re too shy to open the door, I had to release some tension on your shoes first.] [Look. All my essence. You drank it earlier too. Thick and creamy, right?] [Image attached] The photo loaded. My shoes outside the door were covered in a suspicious milky liquid, glistening under the hallway lights. Thinking about what I had just swallowed… My stomach convulsed violently. I clamped a hand over my mouth, but couldn’t stop the retching. I doubled over and vomited on the floor. The sour smell filled the entryway. “Ooh, little beauty, did you throw up?” His sickening laugh came from right outside the door. “Why pretend to be innocent? Living alone in a fancy apartment like this? Who knows how many men you’ve swallowed.” Fighting the nausea, I shook with rage. “You’re sick! I called the cops! Get lost!” “Hahaha…” His laughter grew manic. “I tampered with the elevator. 43rd floor… by the time the cops climb up here… hehe.” He wasn’t even afraid of the police? What do I do? He paced back and forth. Step. Step. Step. Each sound stomped on my heart. “You think you’re safe in there?” His voice was right against the crack of the door. I could smell the stale cigarette smoke on his breath. “I checked. You’re the only one living on this floor…” My heart sank. Buying this condo drained my savings. To save money on rent, I moved in the day I got the keys. Management wasn’t fully set up. Most units were empty. It was a workday. The building was a hollow shell. And he knew it. “Baby…” His voice turned sickly sweet. I heard his hand caressing the door. “Don’t worry. I’ve got good technique. I’ll make you feel amazing.” Regret washed over me. If I hadn’t ordered that damn latte, would none of this be happening? 04 A faint metallic scratching sound came from the lock. I froze, pressing my ear to the cold door. That— That was the click of a key sliding in! He was trying to pick the lock! It had been eight minutes since I called 911. The police needed time. The floor was empty. No one would hear me scream. The click-clack of the lock tumbling grew urgent. No! I can’t let him in! I scrambled to the console table, my shaking fingers barely able to hold my own keys. It took several tries to jam my key into the lock from the inside. I pushed the sofa against the door with everything I had. Then the coffee table. I gripped my pepper spray like a lifeline. This was my last stand. The picking noise outside got frantic. I stared at the handle, watching it vibrate violently as he tried to brute force it. Suddenly— SNAP! A crisp sound of metal breaking. “Fuck!” He cursed, throwing his tools on the ground. Footsteps receded. Did he give up? My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor. My shirt was soaked with cold sweat, clinging to my skin. Ten minutes later. Rapid knocking. “Hello, Ma’am? Police. Did you call 911? Please open the door.” I let out a long breath, standing up on shaky legs. I dragged the heavy furniture away. Just as my hand touched the handle— A thought flashed through my mind. Wait! He said he broke the elevator. 43 floors. How did the cops get here so fast? And why wasn’t he out of breath? “What’s going on?” The “cop” outside sounded impatient, pounding harder. “Didn’t you call us? Open up or we’re leaving!” I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to think. “O-officer.” My voice trembled uncontrollably. “Please remove the thing blocking my peephole… I… I need to see your badge…” Silence outside. Seconds later. That familiar voice returned. “Wow, you’re smarter than you look.” His tone was maniacal. “Let’s play a game. Room Escape? You try to escape, and I try to get in!”

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The day Peter Monks took his protégée back to their alma mater was the day the System told me to die. It said that Peter, the story’s male lead, was falling out of love with me. The battle-hardened System egged me on. “Why don’t you just kill yourself? It’s the classic groveling ex trope. That’s how all those second-chance romance stories go.” “Peter will be consumed by love for you after you’re gone. His affection score will skyrocket, and your mission will be complete!” When I realized that dying meant, well, actually dying, I stared at the System in disbelief. “But if I’m dead, what good is his love to me?” “How about this,” I countered. “We unlink, and you can find someone else to conquer his heart.” I ignored the System and chose to live. I never expected that would be the thing to make Peter Monks fall madly in love with me all over again. 1. The System went silent. For the first time, its mechanical, electronic voice was tinged with something like raw fury. [HOST, THINK CAREFULLY. WITHOUT MY ASSISTANCE, PETER MONKS’S LOVE SCORE FOR YOU WILL PLUMMET TO NEAR ZERO!] [YOU WILL HAVE NOTHING!] “So what?” I was done arguing. With a single thought, I pulled up the interface in my mind and selected ‘Force Unlink.’ A shrill alarm blared for a split second before cutting off abruptly. I walked to the bathroom and looked at the stunning, radiant face in the mirror, a laugh bubbling up from my chest. Thank God I had been careful when I first signed up, poring over the contract that was thicker than a brick. Upon unlinking, the System couldn’t retract any rewards it had already granted. Better yet, there were no penalties for failing the mission. And over the years, trading on the pitiful dregs of Peter’s affection, I had acquired a flawless appearance, a photographic memory, a ruthless instinct for business, and… a black card with no credit limit. I would have nothing? Please. I already had everything. I pulled out my phone and casually posted an update on my social media feed. 【Officially single. Parted ways with Mr. Peter Monks. Wishing him all the best.】 The accompanying picture was a selfie I’d just taken in the mirror. My smile was brilliant, the light in my eyes outshining the diamond necklace around my neck. I couldn’t even be bothered to pack. I called the most expensive moving company in the city. Pointing at everything that was mine in Peter’s villa, I gave a simple instruction, “Pack it all up. Don’t leave a single thing. And then, throw it all away.” Who cares? I wasn’t lacking for anything. Out with the old, in with the new. I’d grown accustomed to the good life and had no intention of slumming it. So, I turned around and bought a standalone villa in the same exclusive, ultra-wealthy district—this one with a better view and an infinity pool. Behind me, the movers worked in a flurry of activity. I sat serenely on the terrace of my new home, sipping champagne and watching the sunset paint the sky. My phone buzzed. The name “Peter Monks” flashed across the screen. I could already picture his expression when he saw my post—a mixture of shock and simmering rage. He probably thought this was just another one of my games, another desperate attempt to get his attention. Too bad. I didn’t even want to waste a second looking at his name. With a flick of my thumb, I blocked his number, deleted his contact, and moved on. A man? He’d only slow down my spending. 2. When Peter finally found me, I was in the middle of teasing a new male model, dangling a cherry just above his lips. His eyelashes were long, his cheeks smooth and flushed. My playful words had turned the tips of his ears a bright crimson. He looked like an innocent puppy. During my years with Peter, I had to play the part of his preferred “sweet, innocent flower,” living a life as austere as a nun’s. Only now was I discovering how exhilarating it was to finally let loose. “Get out.” Peter’s voice, cold as ice, sliced through the air, heavy with the authority of a man used to being obeyed. The model flinched, scrambling out of the VIP booth like a startled animal. Now, it was just the two of us. Peter loosened his tie, his gaze raking over me, the fury in his eyes barely contained. “Sienna, what the hell is this?” I popped the cherry into my mouth, slowly and deliberately spitting the pit onto a napkin. “We broke up, Mr. Monks.” I looked at him, feigning confusion. “‘Break up.’ Are those two words really so hard to understand? Or has your vocabulary deteriorated to the point where you need to go back to elementary school?” His face darkened to the color of thunderclouds. But he reined in his temper, letting out a heavy sigh as he sat down across from me. His tone, when he finally spoke, was almost gentle. “Are you still angry that I went back to the university with Willow?” I almost laughed. See? That was him. Always so certain that I couldn’t live without him, that every move I made was a calculated play for his attention. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten my ultimatum—that if he went with her, we were through. He continued, explaining as if to a child, “Willow is just a naive kid. She was bullied a lot back in school and was scared of being singled out at the reunion. I was just looking out for her.” “Mhm, I understand,” I nodded, my agreement completely sincere. Of course, I understood. Just like I’d understood all the other times. When Willow’s laptop broke, he, the CEO, went to her apartment to fix it himself. When Willow worked late, he canceled our dinner plans to drive her home personally. When Willow was in a bad mood, he even ditched our anniversary date to stand in line for hours to buy her a limited-edition cake from some trendy bakery. All because she was “naive,” “vulnerable,” and “like a small animal that needed protecting.” My brain isn’t broken. How could I not understand? I rested my chin on my hand, blinked innocently, and asked a question that caught him completely off guard. “And what role were you playing while you were helping her, exactly?” The gentle expression on Peter’s face froze solid. I scoffed internally. Keep pretending. He played the part of the caring boss while acting like a boyfriend, savoring the thrill of the ambiguity and expecting me to be grateful for his “impartiality.” He probably expected me to cry, to scream, to demand answers, only to be shut down with his usual, “Don’t be unreasonable.” But honestly, I didn’t have the energy to play these games with him anymore. As I was figuring out the quickest way to get rid of him, Peter rubbed his temples, looking thoroughly exasperated. “Sienna, stop it. It was my fault, okay?” “Tell me what you want as an apology. A bag? A car?” He thought a limited-edition handbag would smooth things over, just like it always had. I was about to tell him to get lost. But the words caught in my throat, and an idea bloomed. I looked at his handsome face, etched with impatience and condescension, and a slow smile spread across my lips. “Alright.” Peter was visibly taken aback, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. Meeting his surprised gaze, I spoke, my voice clear and steady. “I want ten percent of Monks Corp.” 3. Peter didn’t agree right away. After some back and forth, he finally conceded, offering me seven percent as compensation. I propped my chin on my hand and watched him, my smile so genuinely joyful that it seemed to momentarily daze him. “Deal. But Mr. Monks, I’ll need to see the share transfer agreement first.” “Once it’s signed and sealed, I’ll come back to you, just like you want.” The look on Peter’s face was utterly grim. He had likely never been manipulated like this before, especially not by me, the one who was supposed to be pliable. But still, he nodded. “Fine.” Just as the word left his lips, his phone rang. He answered, and after listening for only a moment, his entire demeanor shifted. “I’m on my way!” He hung up without another glance at me, tossing a clipped, “Urgent business at the office,” over his shoulder as he hurried out the door. I raised an eyebrow, unbothered. Half an hour later, I was scrolling through my feed when I saw a new post. It was from Willow. The picture showed a man’s hand, the knuckles elegant and defined, gently dabbing her forehead with a towel. On the wrist was a Patek Philippe watch. The same one Peter had been wearing when he came to see me. The caption read: Just a little fever, but I didn’t expect someone to be so worried about me. I curled my lip and set my phone face down on the table. Then I waved over at the model, who was still waiting in the wings. “Come on back. Keep me company.” Peter, to his credit, was efficient. The very next morning, his lawyer delivered the share transfer agreement to my new villa. Seven percent. In black and white. As I signed my name, I couldn’t help but calculate Monks Corp’s net profits from the previous year. This golden goose was far more lovable than Peter himself. After finalizing the paperwork, I went to Monks Corp in person to register as a shareholder. Speak of the devil. I was stopped at the elevators by Willow. She looked positively indignant, her eyes red-rimmed as if she were carrying the weight of Peter’s suffering on her shoulders. “Ms. Scott, how could you do this to him?” “He’s such a good person! How could you threaten him with a misunderstanding and blackmail him for company shares? You’re nothing but a gold digger!” I almost laughed out loud. I crossed my arms, looking her up and down. “And you? What gives you the right to stand here and question me? By the way, that Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet on your wrist… I doubt you bought that yourself, did you?” The color drained from Willow’s face. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes darted around nervously. Just as I was about to dismiss her and leave, she lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. Then, she used my own hand to shove herself, hard. She crumpled to the ground like a fragile doll. A piercing shriek echoed through the entire lobby. And then, a man’s voice, sharp with anger and panic, roared from across the hall. “Willow!”

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