Category: English

During the Cold War with my sugar daddy, I accidentally slapped his childhood sweetheart. Overnight, my reputation was dragged through the mud. Meanwhile, my sugar daddy remained as silent as a corpse. In a fit of rage, I started a livestream and roasted him until he was trending. “Julian Blackwood? Yeah, we dated. He was mid.” “Of course I dumped him first.” “Oh, nothing major. Just… he’s old, bad in bed. I’m thinking of dating a college boy next.” … The internet said I was crazy for daring to roast Julian Blackwood. Not long after I ended the stream, my front door was literally removed from its hinges. Julian, looking dark and dangerous, loosened his tie as he backed me into a corner. “Tell me more about this college boy you’re planning to date.” 1 I am known as the delicate “Little White Flower” of the entertainment industry. Pure looks, sweet voice, kind heart, always helping others. I painstakingly curated this persona for three years. It collapsed in a single night. 2 I was filming a fantasy drama recently. In the dead of winter, I had to fly around on wires in flimsy silk dresses and film multiple underwater scenes. Work was already annoying enough. Then someone came looking for trouble. I was in the makeup chair when I saw the director bowing and scraping to a girl with exquisite makeup. He not only gave her a tour but also moved his director’s chair for her to sit behind the monitors. Crew members whispered that she was an investor named Sierra. I didn’t think much of it. Until filming started, and I got NG’d (No Good) a million times. If I was actually messing up, I would have redone it a hundred times without complaint. But clearly, I wasn’t. Someone just wanted to watch me freeze in thin clothes, dangling from wires in the snow. I did that scene twenty-three times. Finally, they swapped in a stunt double, and it was perfect on the first take. The director looked embarrassed and told me to rest. My assistant wrapped me in a down jacket and walked me to the trailer. As we passed the monitors, Sierra leaned back in the chair, looking me up and down with disdain. “The bar for entry in this industry is really ground level. Anyone can be an actor.” I was shivering too hard to retort. Mainly because I didn’t know who she was or what power she held, so I couldn’t afford to offend her blindly. Back in the trailer, once I warmed up, I sent my assistant to dig up dirt on Sierra. Before I got an answer, I had an underwater scene. Unsurprisingly, same routine. No matter how I acted, it was NG. Even when I saw the director’s eyes light up with satisfaction, Sierra would reject it, claiming the “emotion wasn’t right.” This scene required close-ups, so no stunt double. The director didn’t dare speak up, so I was dunked in the water over and over. Eventually, I was dizzy from the cold. Even a pushover has a breaking point. I refused to go back in the water and confronted Sierra. The director, reading the room, cleared the set. I started polite. “Ms. Sierra, have I offended you in some way?” Sierra maintained her haughty posture, scoffing. “You? You’re not qualified to offend me.” I smiled. “In that case, why make things difficult? It’s fine if I suffer a bit, but delaying the shoot wastes everyone’s time and burns your money.” Sierra looked me over again, her eyes full of scorn. “Elena Lin, you sure have a sharp tongue.” “Don’t pin this on me. I’m not making things difficult. Your acting is just trash, so everyone has to suffer through your retakes.” Seeing my silence, her mockery deepened. “There’s a wall between real talent and resource babies. Especially someone like you…” She paused deliberately, then smirked. “Who knows how many beds you climbed to get here?” I hate slut-shaming. Even a saint would snap! I didn’t care who she was anymore. If I endured this any longer, I’d end up in the hospital. I slapped her. Hard. Sierra’s face snapped to the side, a red handprint blooming on her pale skin. She looked at me in disbelief. “Elena, you dare hit me?!” “So what if I hit you? Since your mother didn’t teach you manners, I don’t mind stepping in.” Wrapped in my jacket, I looked at her coldly. “I have no beef with you. If you insult me again and treat everyone’s work like a game, I’ll hit you again.” Four degrees Celsius, dunking me in water repeatedly, insulting me—did she expect me not to fight back? I turned to leave. Sierra tried to grab me, but I shook her off. We were near the pool set, the ground covered in loose gravel. Sierra tripped and fell gracefully into the water. Me: … Chaos erupted. Filming was canceled. As Sierra was carted away by an ambulance, my assistant returned with the intel. I finally understood her malice. Sierra was Julian Blackwood’s childhood sweetheart, recently returned from abroad. And Julian Blackwood was my sugar daddy. 3 In three years with Julian, I had never heard of a “white moonlight” or childhood sweetheart. I was confused. I called him. Off. I called his assistant. No answer. I opened WeChat. Our chat history stopped two days ago. I remembered then—we had a fight before I left for the shoot. I had just finished a roadshow and had a rare few days off. Julian suddenly asked about my schedule for next April, wanting me to clear it for a trip to Northern Europe. But I had already booked an arthouse film for April. It was a huge production, vital for my career. Julian wanted me to drop it. I refused. He looked at me, eyes dark. “Elena, is your schedule always going to be more important than me?” “I can’t even book a slot four months in advance now?” “Do I need to take a number to see you in the future?” He sounded resentful. I was exhausted from working non-stop for a month. I cleared two days just to see him, and he was being passive-aggressive. My temper flared. “Julian, you said you wouldn’t interfere with my work.” “I told you, I will never give up my career.” The conversation ended unhappily. Julian took a call and left in a hurry. Then I went to the set. Looking back, I regretted it. I should have explained better. I was patient with everyone else, but for some reason, I was always willful with Julian. As my career took off, I had less time, and we argued more about the distance. But usually, Julian wouldn’t let a misunderstanding last overnight. He always accommodated my schedule. This was the first time we had lost contact for days. My chest felt tight. I called again. Still off. I left a message. [Ignoring me? You think you’re cool?] [I accidentally hit your childhood sweetheart today. Thoughts?] No reply. Annoyed, I stopped caring and went to sleep. 4 My agent’s call woke me up the next morning. It was a death knell I couldn’t ignore. “Elena Lin! When did you offend the Su family?” “Do you know they want to blacklist you?” “You really know how to cause trouble!” “Are you still sleeping? How can you sleep?!” I groggily checked my phone. The internet was flooded with dirt on me. Fake persona, pick-me girl, diva, sugar baby—every dirty label was thrown at me. It gave me heart palpitations. I explained the situation briefly. My agent was silent for a long time, then sighed. “The fake rumors, the company can send legal letters.” “The real problem is endorsements and scripts. I’ve received countless cancellation calls today. The Su family wants to bury you.” “Our small agency can’t fight them.” “Should you… ask Mr. Blackwood?” I scratched my head, frustrated. “Can’t.” “Cold war. He’s ignoring me. Assume we broke up.” “Plus, the person I hit was his childhood sweetheart. Who knows whose side he’s on.” Agent: … She sighed again, gave me some instructions, and went to do damage control. I lay in bed, suddenly exhausted. This was the second time I faced being blacklisted. The first was when I just entered the industry. I had no background but good luck, landing a few decent supporting roles. Then a nepo baby named Jason tried to “sponsor” me. I refused. He got angry and tried to blacklist me. Suddenly, rumors swirled, and I couldn’t get work. Young and reckless, I figured if I couldn’t eat this rice, I’d smash the bowl. I waited outside Jason’s usual club, put a sack over his head when he came out drunk, and beat him up. As I was dusting off my hands to leave, I turned and saw Julian. He was leaning against a Maybach, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, an unlit cigarette in his fingers. In the night, he raised an eyebrow at me. “Nice moves.” I recognized him. I’d seen him at dinners, always surrounded by people. A man I couldn’t afford to offend. But in that moment, I had an epiphany. If I needed a backer in this industry, I wanted to choose my own. So, faced with fight or flight, I walked up to him. “Mr. Blackwood, I need a sugar daddy. Interested?” Julian paused. “Sugar daddy?” He tapped his fingers on the car window, chuckling. “Any other roles available?” I shook my head. I only needed a sugar daddy who could get me roles. Julian was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.” So we got together. With him involved, all problems vanished. Not only did I get roles, but Jason walked the other way when he saw me. For three years, Julian rarely interfered with my work and never hid our relationship. I was the one trying to avoid suspicion. For a while, I refused his resources to maintain distance. He just said: “Elena, don’t play the noble card with me. Leaving my resources unused to suffer on your own? That makes you the idiot.” “Besides, is relying on me embarrassing? Am I unpresentable?” Julian was very presentable. But he was ignoring me now. Can’t rely on him if I wanted to.

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New Year’s Eve. The night Leo left me, pregnant and shivering, on the side of the road. He was on his way to a fireworks show with his assistant. All for her. From the passenger seat, the assistant, Zoe, made a show of telling him to bring me along. Leo just glanced at me, my arms wrapped around myself against the biting wind. “Zoe’s been working so hard. I want this night to be special for her.” His voice was flat, devoid of pity. “You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be out this late anyway. Besides,” he added, a familiar curl of contempt in his voice, “you’ve never understood things like this. This kind of romance.” His final words before driving off were, “I’m not coming home tonight. Don’t bother me and Zoe.” As his taillights disappeared, the sky behind me exploded in a million-dollar cascade of light and color—his gift to her. I stood there for a moment, the lone audience to their celebration, before I turned and started the long walk to the hospital, my hand resting on my stomach. To end the pregnancy. After this, I would never again have to beg Leo to come with me to an ultrasound. 1 I woke up in the sterile quiet of a recovery room, the distant pop-pop-pop of the fireworks echoing against the windowpane. The lights bursting across the dark sky blurred through the tears welling in my eyes. My poor, unborn child. Never even had a chance to see how beautiful they were. A young nurse came in, her face pressed to the glass. “Wow,” she sighed, her voice full of envy. “That’s the show from Axton Corp’s CEO, Leo Axton. For his new girlfriend, they said. A million dollars’ worth of fireworks. They’ve been going for five hours straight. Can you imagine anything more romantic?” Ten years together, and Leo had never once bought me a single firework. Whenever I’d mentioned it, he’d scoff. “What’s the point of something that only lasts a few minutes? It’s such a waste of money, Tessa. You’re so frivolous.” He never knew I adored them. Just like he never knew he was the one who didn’t understand romance. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. “Professor Albright,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Last year… you offered me a spot in the conservatory program in Vienna. I’ve thought about it. I want to go.” His voice on the other end was electric with excitement. “Tessa! It’s about time! With your talent, you should have been one of the greats by now!” “It’s a shame…” he trailed off. A shame. Yes, it was. A shame that I had given up the piano for Leo. Given up my life to be a stay-at-home wife, my fingers gathering dust instead of dancing across ivory keys. I never imagined that the marriage I sacrificed everything for would bring me nothing but one wound after another. After a week of recovery in the hospital, I was discharged. I walked into our cold, silent house to find Leo there, a rare sight. Between his long days at the office and his longer nights with Zoe, he’d become a ghost in his own home. He saw me and let out a short, irritated scoff. “So you finally decide to come home. You throw a tantrum and run off just because I spent New Year’s with Zoe.” He crossed his arms. “Were you waiting for me to call and beg you to come back?” I looked at him, my voice flat. “No. I was in the hospital.” He froze for a second, his bravado faltering. Then, anger flared in his eyes. “And you didn’t tell me?” It was true. In the past, even when he ignored my texts for days, I would send him a full itinerary of my every move. A pathetic attempt to stay on his radar. I met his gaze without flinching. “I forgot.” My indifference seemed to enrage him more than any argument ever had. “Is this really just because I didn’t spend New Year’s with you? I’ve spent so many with you, Tessa. This was the one time I was with Zoe.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Leo, we have never spent a single New Year’s Eve together.” First, the excuse was that his startup was too demanding. Then, it was parties with friends and clients, leaving me to wait alone by the window for his car to pull into the driveway. He’d forgotten. He had actually forgotten that he had never, not once, chosen to be with me when the clock struck midnight. A flicker of memory, then guilt, crossed his face. He pulled me into an awkward hug. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into my hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. After the baby is born, I promise. Every New Year’s Eve, it will be just us.” Ten years I’d waited for that promise. Now, it was just an empty sound. I pulled away without a word and walked to the music room, needing to feel the familiar weight of the keys under my fingers. But the room was a disaster. And my piano… my piano was destroyed. It was the piano my mother had bought me with her entire life’s savings before she passed. It was the most important thing I owned. Leo followed me in, his tone casual, dismissive. “Oh, that. Zoe was playing around on it the other day. Guess she broke it by accident.” One look told me it was no accident. The polished wood was gouged, the lid cracked. This was deliberate. Leo knew what this piano meant to me. He knew I’d fly into a rage if anyone so much as touched it without my permission. Seeing my face darken, he sneered. “It’s just a damn piano, Tessa. Zoe broke it, I’ll buy you a new one. Is it really worth getting this worked up about?” I lifted the fallboard. The keys were chipped and stained, pitted as if someone had taken a hammer to them. And lying across the mangled ivory was a scrap of pink lace and ribbon. A thong. Leo lunged, snatching it away. “Zoe must have left it here,” he said, his eyes darting away from mine. “It’s not what you think. Nothing happened.” But I knew. The placement, the desecration. They had used my mother’s piano—my sanctuary—for that. A wave of nausea washed over me. Sensing my revulsion, a flicker of guilt finally broke through his anger. He took my hand, trying to change the subject. “Tessa, come on. Let’s get you to your appointment. I’ll go with you to the ultrasound today.” He forgot. He forgot I had just come from the hospital. He never even asked what I was doing there for a week. This was the first time he had ever offered to come with me. Every other time, I had pleaded, and he had always refused, citing work, calling me selfish and needy for trying to distract him from his responsibilities. All I had ever wanted was what every other woman in the waiting room had: a husband by her side. Just once. Now the baby was gone. I no longer needed him. Leo placed a hand on my stomach, a frown creasing his brow. “You’ve lost weight. That’s not good for the baby. I’ll hire a nutritionist, get you some healthy meals.” I shook my head, my voice quiet but firm. “Leo, don’t bother.” “The baby is…” Before I could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and immediately walked out of the room to take the call. When he returned, his expression was already distant. “An emergency at the office,” he said, the lie worn and familiar. “You’ll have to go to the appointment by yourself this time.” It was always Zoe. Any call from her was an emergency. I had tried to fight it in the past, tried to make him stay. It only ever made him resent me more. Suddenly, a sharp, twisting pain shot through my abdomen—an aftershock from the procedure. I doubled over, clutching my stomach. Leo’s brow furrowed in irritation, not concern. “Tessa, can you stop with the dramatics? Do you really think that just because you’re pregnant, I have to drop everything and revolve around you?” He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. I fumbled in my purse for the painkillers the doctor had prescribed, swallowed them with a dry throat, and collapsed onto the bed. When I woke up, I scrolled through my phone. A new post from Zoe popped up on my feed. My boss is the absolute best~ Got my period and the cramps were killing me, and he dropped everything to come take care of me~ I let out a hollow laugh. In Leo’s world, his assistant’s period cramps were an emergency. His wife’s pregnancy was a nuisance. A moment later, my phone rang. It was him. For a foolish second, I thought it might be a flicker of concern. “Tessa,” he said, his voice urgent and annoyed. “What brand of pads do you use?” The question hit me like a physical blow. “Zoe, the idiot, forgot to buy any.” I thought back to a time years ago, when my period had come unexpectedly. I was wearing white pants, and a large, crimson stain had blossomed on the fabric. I was mortified, stranded at a cafe without any supplies. I had called Leo, begging him to run to the drugstore across the street. “You’re asking me, a man, to buy you pads?” he had hissed into the phone, his voice laced with disgust. “How humiliating is that? What if someone sees me?” But now, for Zoe, there was no disgust. Only concern. “And is it normal for cramps to be this bad?” he continued, his voice a frantic buzz in my ear. “She looks like she’s in so much pain. What can I do to help? Should I buy her medicine? Or make her one of those brown sugar drinks? Does she need a heating pad? What about…” He was terrified of letting Zoe feel an ounce of discomfort. He had never, not even once since I’d gotten pregnant, shown me this level of care. The love I thought we’d had felt like a pathetic joke. “Have you ever heard of Google?” I asked, my voice dripping with ice. I hung up before he could answer. The next morning, he called again, his voice simmering with rage. “Tessa, you’ve got a lot of nerve hanging up on me. But I’ll give you one chance to make it up. Get over to Zoe’s place and cook for her. If you do, I’ll forgive you.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and she loves your honey-glazed short ribs. Make sure you make those.” The breath caught in my throat. A sharp, physical pain lanced through my chest. I finally understood. For the past year, there was a period where Leo suddenly started loving the lunches I packed for him. He was especially ravenous for the short ribs. I thought I had finally found a way to his heart through his stomach. I spent hours perfecting the recipe, my hands calloused and dotted with burns from the splashing oil, all because I thought it was his favorite. It was never his favorite. It was hers. He was just taking my food to her. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Leo, you could hire any chef in the city who could cook better than I can. Why does it have to be me?” His voice became a command. “Zoe said she wants yours. You will be there today. End of discussion.” He hung up. I walked to Zoe’s apartment with a single file folder in my purse. Some things between Leo and me needed to end. Today. Zoe opened the door, a picture of faux humility. “Oh, Tessa, hi! I feel so bad. I just had a craving for your short ribs, and Leo insisted on calling you, even though I told him the cooking fumes can’t be good for the baby with you being pregnant and all.” Her voice was laced with the triumph of being his chosen one. I was no longer his wife; I was their caterer. Ignoring her, I walked past her to where Leo was sitting on the couch and placed the folder on the coffee table. “Sign this,” I said, my voice even. “And I’ll cook.” He didn’t even glance at the document. He just scrawled his name on the signature line. “Aren’t you afraid it’s our divorce papers?” I asked. He let out a derisive laugh. “And so what if it is? Is that more important than making Zoe happy? Besides,” he said, looking me up and down with disdain, “you’re pregnant. You wouldn’t dare divorce me. Who else would want you?” His casual cruelty sealed something inside me. I said nothing more and walked into the kitchen. This would be the last meal I ever cooked for him. There was a time he loved my cooking. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when that love had curdled into annoyance. As I worked, the sound of their laughter drifted in from the living room, each peal grating against my nerves. By the time the meal was ready, my body ached with a bone-deep exhaustion. I felt dizzy, my vision tunneling. Leo looked at me, not with concern, but with contempt. “You’re going to faint from making one meal? Pregnancy has made you so fragile. Zoe has cramps and still goes to the office every day without a word of complaint. You sit at home all day. You have no idea what real work is.” It wouldn’t matter what I did. In his eyes, there was only Zoe. She came over, placing a hand on my arm in a cloying gesture of support. “Tessa, you must be exhausted. Thank you so much. Oh, your shirt is dirty. Let me take you to my room so you can change into something fresh.” She led me into her bedroom. The floor was littered with more than a dozen used condom wrappers. Zoe blushed prettily. “Oops. My boyfriend is just a little… intense.” She gave me a sly, pitying look. “Is Leo that wild with you, too?” My face went cold. So this was the real reason she brought me in here. This was her trophy room. I had always believed Leo when he said he was too tired from work. The truth was, he was never too tired. He just didn’t want me. Every time I tried to initiate anything, he would call me disgusting. Our baby had been the result of a single, drunken accident. I looked at the mess on the floor and gave her a cold smile. “At that frequency, you might want to worry if your boyfriend will have anything left in a few years.” The color drained from her face. Back at the dining table, Leo was fawning over her, piling food onto her plate. “Here, Zoe, eat up.” She giggled, batting her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Leo, you spoil me! You’re the best boss in the world!” Then, she turned to me, scooping a large spoonful of crab roe into my bowl. “Thank you again for cooking for me today, Tessa.” I stared at the bowl, my chopsticks frozen in my hand. Zoe’s face crumpled into a mask of hurt. “Did… did I do something to upset you, Tessa? Why aren’t you eating?” Leo’s face darkened. He stood up and slapped me, hard, across the face. “Tessa, don’t push your luck.” Before I could react, he grabbed the back of my head and forced my face down into the bowl, shoving the crab roe into my mouth. I couldn’t even struggle. By the time he let go, an intense itching had already started, and angry red welts were erupting across my skin. Years ago, Leo had promised me, sworn to me, that he would always remember my severe shellfish allergy. He promised he would never let me near it. Now, he was the one forcing it down my throat. Zoe, who had been smiling a moment before, recoiled in theatrical horror. “Leo! Look at her! That’s so gross! Does she have some kind of disease?” Leo saw the hives covering my face and neck and dragged me to my feet, his face a mask of revulsion. He shoved me out the apartment door. “You’re disgusting, Tessa.” He kicked me away from the door. “Don’t get her place dirty.” I grabbed at his pant leg, my throat closing, each breath a desperate gasp. “Leo,” I rasped, “call an ambulance. Please.” The only answer was the sound of the door clicking shut. Luckily, a neighbor saw me and called 911. Later, as I was waiting at the hospital pharmacy to pick up my prescription, I saw them. Leo and Zoe. Leo shot me a look of pure annoyance. Zoe, clinging to his arm, smirked at me. “I told Leo it was just a tiny cut, but he insisted on bringing me to the ER to get it bandaged. He was so worried it would get infected.” Leo stroked her hair, his voice dripping with concern. “That wasn’t a tiny cut, it was bleeding.” My own bleeding, the bleeding he’d never seen from the life I’d lost, didn’t even register to him. He turned his attention back to me, his voice sharp. “It’s just an allergic reaction. Are you still here?” Thank god he didn’t know I’d had an abortion. I couldn’t imagine what he would have done. As if granting a great charity, he sighed. “Fine. I’ll wait and take you to your ultrasound check-up.” He walked off to the registration desk without waiting for my reply. Zoe leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “He’s so good to you, isn’t he? But if he were really so good to you, would he have spent New Year’s watching fireworks with me? Would he be living at my place?” She smiled, a slow, cruel curving of her lips. “You can’t win, Tessa. He loves me now. You’re just the old, pregnant hag he’s tired of. He even told me,” she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush, “that the stretch marks on your stomach were ugly. That they made him sick just looking at them.” My mind went blank. The marks that he found so disgusting were the only proof my child had ever existed in this world. Zoe gave me a triumphant little smile, then suddenly slapped herself, twice, hard across the face. She burst into tears just as Leo was walking back. “Tessa, please! I swear I didn’t seduce Leo! Please don’t hit me!” she sobbed. “I’ll stay away from him from now on, I promise! I won’t get in your way!” Leo saw her red cheeks and his face contorted with a rage so pure it was terrifying. He stared at me, his voice a low growl. “Tessa, is this how you bully Zoe the second I turn my back?” He took a step forward and kicked me, hard, in the stomach.

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The year my foster mother beat me half to death was the same year I found out I was the “real” daughter, switched at birth on purpose. After a whirlwind transition back to the wealthy Sterling family, I instinctively chose the smallest, shabbiest room in the mansion. My biological mom immediately stopped me. “Why are you going into the maid’s quarters? Your room is upstairs.” My brother walked towards me with his hand extended. Conditioned by habit, I lowered my head and meekly handed over my monthly allowance. His eyes widened in shock. “I’m your brother! I was reaching out to bandage your wounds, not take your money!” Then came Chloe, the girl who took my place. She walked towards me with a tear-streaked face. I braced myself, turning my left cheek like they do in the dramas, ready for the slap. I expected a stinging pain. Instead, I got a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, big sis. Can you please not hate me?” 1 The scenery outside the car window blurred past. The woman sitting next to me held my hand, her grip slightly nervous. Maybe my expression was too numb, because she kept throwing out topic after topic. “Do you like Barbies, Ava? Mom will buy you a bunch, you can pick whatever you want.” “How are your grades? Is there anything you’re particularly interested in? Mom can sign you up for some classes.” “Oh, I’m talking too much. How about you decide what we eat for lunch, Ava? We can have the chef make it, or Mom can cook. My specialty is steamed egg custard, I just don’t know if you like it.” She gave me an awkward smile. Her hands were well-maintained, soft and fair, not looking at all like the hands of a forty-year-old woman. I lowered my head and whispered, “Whatever is fine.” My foster mother used to say my voice sounded like a rooster crowing—annoying as hell. Every time she saw me, she got irritated. Since then, I tried not to speak unless absolutely necessary. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I’d scare this new mom, and she’d send me back. After all, she didn’t raise me. She might find me repulsive. 2 The day my mom found me, my foster mother had gotten into a huge fight with my drunk foster father. She took all her anger out on me. A wooden stick as thick as a thumb—she said she’d break it on me, and she did. I didn’t have a single patch of unbruised skin left. beaten to within an inch of my life, I was suddenly pulled into a warm embrace. Hot tears fell on my face. In my daze, I thought I had gone to heaven. I didn’t want to die, but heaven seemed okay. There was a woman with a gentle voice guiding me. Life there probably wouldn’t be too hard. At least, it couldn’t be harder than this. “My daughter… I finally found you. My poor baby.” I was sent to the hospital and recovered for a month before my mom took me home. My dad is the CEO of a publicly traded company, my mom owns an art gallery. I have a brother in his junior year of high school, and a sister in the same grade as me—freshman year. A sister with zero blood relation to me. We live in a villa, with countless luxury cars, a housekeeper, and bodyguards. After entering the house, Mom went to the kitchen to check on lunch. She told me to pick a room first. “You can have whichever one you want.” I pursed my lips and carefully walked around the first floor. Even the bathroom was bigger, brighter, and cleaner than the entire house I used to live in. I picked the only room that seemed “small and shabby” compared to the others, though it was actually spacious, bright, and had AC, a washer, and an ensuite bathroom. In my old life, I wouldn’t have dared to dream of this. Just having a bed was a luxury. I figured this one would do. I shouldn’t be greedy as the newcomer. Not sleeping in the security booth was already a win. I started walking towards that room. Mom poked her head out of the kitchen and saw me. She immediately called out, “Ava, why are you going into the maid’s room? That’s for the housekeeper! Your room is upstairs!” 3 I sighed softly. I knew I didn’t have that kind of luck. The upstairs room must be cramped, dark, damp, and stuffy. Walking up the carved wooden staircase, I was dazzled by the exquisite paintings on the walls. I didn’t dare touch anything, not even a corner. I was terrified Mom would make me pay for it. Even if I sold my worthless life, I couldn’t afford it. When I got to the second floor, I was dumbfounded. Every room was twice the size of the ones downstairs. The luxury was jaw-dropping. Just as I was debating whether to sleep on the stairs or in the small storage closet at the end of the hall, a boy with striking eyebrows and bright eyes put his hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at him. He looked about 50% like me. He had a sunny smile on his face and a backpack over one shoulder, looking like he just got home from school. “You must be Ava. I’m your brother, Liam.” He looked apologetic. “Sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital earlier. I was at a training camp, and the coach wouldn’t let me leave. I just got back.” “You’ve suffered all these years. As your brother, it’s my fault for not protecting you back then. If I had been a bit older, you wouldn’t have been taken.” His eyes were filled with pain. I couldn’t help but comfort him, “It’s okay. I’m fine now.” It wasn’t their fault. Liam looked up. “You were picking a room, right? Why don’t you take the one next to mine? Easier for me to look out for you.” I wanted to refuse, but he didn’t give me a chance. So, half-pushed, half-led, I chose the room next to his. Liam left for a second and came back holding a small box. He sat down in my room and extended his hand towards me. “Come here.” Right. Every time my foster brother, Tyler, needed money, he would sweet-talk me before extending his hand. This meant he wanted money. I dug out an envelope from my pocket. It was the allowance Mom had just stuffed in there. It wasn’t even warm yet. I was self-aware. I meekly handed over my living expenses. It wasn’t my money anyway. I had no attachment to it. Just like the twenty bucks I earned collecting bottles—I handed that over too. Liam’s eyebrows knitted together in displeasure. He looked at me, then at the envelope. Was he dissatisfied with the amount? Suddenly, his eyes widened in shock. “I’m your brother! I was reaching out to bandage your wound, not take your money!” He pulled my sleeve, looking anxious and angry. He took out a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, lifted my hair, and gently applied it to the wound, even blowing on it softly. “This cut hasn’t healed properly. Wait a sec, I’ll put a band-aid on it. Your hair must have been covering it; Mom didn’t even notice.” “If anyone hits you in the future, you hit them back. I’ll take the consequences. If I can’t handle it, Mom and Dad will. You’re my biological sister; you can’t just let people bully you for nothing, understand?” I nodded blankly. He stuffed the envelope back into my hand. He seemed satisfied. “Although no one would dare bully you with me around, there might be times when I’m not there. How about this? I’ll sign you up for a kickboxing class.” He looked at me with burning intensity. I actually laughed. “Sure, why not.” Liam muttered helplessly, “Finally heard you speak. I almost thought you were mute.” Just then, Mom called from downstairs, “Dinner’s ready!” 4 I walked down the stairs stiffly, my feet feeling like I was walking on cotton. I was afraid if I stepped too hard, I’d wake up and realize this was all a dream. I was starting to get attached to this dream. The dining table was filled with over a dozen dishes. It was a grand affair. Mom and Liam kept piling food into my bowl until it was overflowing. “I peeled the shrimp for you, eat it while it’s hot.” “This abalone is really fresh, try a bite.” “This carp soup is the housekeeper’s specialty. Mom will get you a small bowl. Careful, it’s hot. Drink it when it cools down.” I took a cautious sip. Just then, Dad walked in holding my sister’s hand. Even though he was the CEO of a listed company, he was carrying her small backpack himself. My sister was cute, looking like a delicate doll. She had pigtails and a bunch of clips in her hair, looking like a princess living in a fairytale castle. Seeing me, she timidly called out, “Sister?” I bit my lip. Was my dream going to shatter this quickly? Mom had apologized to me before: “I’m sorry, Ava. We discussed it for a long time, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to send Chloe back. After all, we raised her for 15 years.” “If she went back, the drop in lifestyle would be too huge. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, and it would break our hearts.” “Even though there’s no blood relation, in our eyes, she’s been our daughter for a long time.” “I know you suffered and went through hell, but it wasn’t her fault. Chloe cried so many times, saying she didn’t mean for this to happen, that she’ll make it up to you and earn your forgiveness. Please let her stay, okay?” “I promise, even if I’m biased, I’ll be biased towards you.” Facing Mom’s pleading eyes, I couldn’t refuse. I had no right to refuse. After all, to this family of four, I was the real “outsider.” Whenever I dreamed of things I didn’t deserve, my foster mother would curse me out and slap me. “You stupid little wretch! Look in the mirror at your ugly face! Do you deserve anything? Pfft!” “Let me tell you, rotten melons don’t produce good seeds. You’re delusional! A toad wanting to eat swan meat! You just don’t have the destiny for it!” Back then, I was hung up and beaten for a whole day. And the reason? I saw other classmates eating lollipops and begged my foster mom to buy me one. That lollipop was on special at a new store. It cost ten cents. I lowered my head and stopped drinking the soup. I was waiting. Waiting for Chloe to throw herself into Mom and Dad’s arms and cry, asking why they brought me back. Waiting for Mom and Dad to make me apologize, scolding me for making their daughter unhappy. Waiting for my brother to heartache for Chloe and cut ties with me. “Get out! You’re not my sister! I hate you!” It was so strange. I had only been with them for a short time. Why did imagining these scenes feel like a knife twisting in my heart? Clearly, this was normal. I had always been the child who wasn’t favored. Why did it hurt so much? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe walking towards me with a mournful face. Sigh. Isn’t that how it goes in TV dramas? I accepted my fate. I closed my eyes and offered my left cheek. My right cheek was still swollen from my foster mom’s beating. If she hit the left one, at least I’d be symmetrical. I waited for a long time. I expected a burning pain. Instead, a pair of soft, warm lips pressed against my left cheek. Not only did I not get hit, I got a kiss. I opened my eyes in surprise. Chloe threw herself into my arms. She was wailing, her small arms wrapped around my waist, melting like a little snowman. “I’m sorry, big sis! Can you please not hate me?” “I really don’t want to leave this home. Please don’t kick me out, okay? I didn’t mean to take your place.” “I won’t acknowledge my biological parents, never in this life. I only acknowledge you as my sister. Good sister, can you please like me in the future? I promise I’ll be good!” She… she wasn’t following the script? Was it my imagination? They seemed… actually welcoming? Even Dad, who had been stoic the whole time, had tears in the corners of his eyes. No, no, no. This must be their disguise. My foster mom said I was the worst child in the world and no one would like me. Yes, that must be it.

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Years after graduation, my high school crush became an A-list superstar. When we reunited at a class party, his expression was ice cold. “Do I know you?” Everyone thought Parker had forgotten me. Until the news of my accidental death broke. While packing up my apartment, my best friend found an old love letter Parker had written to me years ago. June, loving you is too bitter. I don’t want to like you anymore. But further down, in tiny handwriting: Never mind. I’m lying. That same night, the news of Parker’s suicide trended #1 on X (Twitter). When I opened my eyes again, I was back at that reunion dinner. Looking at Parker’s cold, indifferent face, I tentatively pulled out my phone and sent him a text. The very next second, his phone blasted a unique notification sound—the one reserved for “Special Contacts.” Parker: “…” 1. I died in a blizzard. I went out looking for inspiration for my novel, got lost in the mountains, and froze to death. It was not a dignified way to go. My best friend, Zoe, rushed over the moment she got the call. She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe while identifying my body. “June! How could you be so cruel? How could you just leave me?” “Even if Parker doesn’t remember you, you still have me!” My soul was floating in mid-air, and hearing this made my spectral toes curl from second-hand embarrassment. If I wasn’t already stone-cold dead, I would have rushed over to cover her mouth. Girl! The coroner clearly said it was an accident. Why are you making it sound like I died of a broken heart? Can’t a girl leave a clean reputation behind? But clearly, Zoe didn’t think so. For some reason, she was convinced my death was Parker’s fault. She whipped out her phone and dialed his number. It rang for a long time before he picked up. “Hello?” A raspy male voice answered, sounding like he’d just been woken up. “Zoe? What is it? I just wrapped an overnight shoot…” “Parker,” Zoe cut him off, her voice trembling with grief. “June is dead.” Silence stretched on the other end of the line. Even as a ghost, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of hope. How would Parker react? Would he be sad? Or would he think it was just the passing of someone insignificant? After all, at the reunion a few days ago, he had been so cold. When our classmates tried to tease us, he just asked in a frosty voice, “Do I know you?” That one sentence froze the entire room. Meeting his indifferent gaze, the courage I had spent hours building up instantly evaporated. I just stammered, “N-nothing,” and lowered my head, terrified to look up again. Actually… I understood. He was a top-tier celebrity now, and it had been six years since graduation. It was a good thing he didn’t remember me. Otherwise, I’d always feel like I owed him something. “Parker, did you hear me?” Zoe screamed into the phone, crying. “I said June is dead! She’s gone!” Thud. There was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor on the other end. Parker seemed to be gritting his teeth, his voice shaking. “…I don’t believe you.” The next second, he hung up. Zoe, furious and weeping, took a photo of my death certificate and texted it to him, only to find she’d been blocked. I wanted to comfort her, but my hand passed right through her shoulder. I ended up just hugging the air around her. Don’t cry, you dummy. 2. Five days after my death, Zoe brought my ashes back to the city. I didn’t have much family in the country. My only brother was on a business trip overseas and was currently on a flight back. When Zoe carried my urn into my apartment, my Ragdoll cat, Nugget, hadn’t eaten in two days. I had left three days’ worth of food, thinking I’d be back. I never thought I wouldn’t make it. Zoe used to come over all the time. Seeing her, Nugget immediately pounced, meowing for food. Seeing my cat triggered Zoe, and she almost started crying again. After filling the bowl, Nugget rushed to eat. Zoe walked into my study to start packing my belongings. I was a full-time author, so I spent more time in my study than my bedroom. The desk was exactly how I left it. Next to the computer sat a framed photo of our high school friend group. In the photo, Zoe was linking arms with me in the center, and Parker stood on the far right. Through the crowd, I was smiling at the camera, but Parker’s eyes were looking sideways—at me. Zoe was currently furious at Parker. She packed everything else and reached for the photo frame last. Just then, Nugget, full from dinner, zoomed into the room. Seeing Zoe reach for the frame, the cat launched a surprise attack. Crash! The frame hit the floor, glass shattering everywhere. Zoe jumped. She picked up the cat and noticed something tucked inside the backing of the broken frame. “Meow.” Nugget realized he messed up and let out an apologetic squeak. Zoe bent down and pulled out a letter hidden behind the photo. It was a love letter. We were both confused. The paper was yellowed with age, but the handwriting was sharp and clear. Every word was filled with a hidden, grand, unrequited love. June, loving you is too bitter. I don’t want to like you anymore. But further down, in tiny print: Never mind. I’m lying. When our eyes drifted to the signature, both Zoe and I froze. Signed: Parker. The current king of the entertainment industry. And my high school desk mate whom I had secretly loved for years. Suddenly, I remembered. Parker had given me this frame during our senior year. I had moved many times over the years, but I always kept this frame by my computer. I never knew it held such a secret. I thought back to the phone call—the way Parker gritted his teeth and said “I don’t believe you” with a trembling voice. My heart ached unbearably. So ghosts can feel heartbreak, too? I watched Zoe whip out her phone and unblock Parker. But before she could dial, a breaking news notification popped up on her screen. #ParkerSuicide Zoe’s hands shook as she clicked the trending topic. A video from a gossip account with millions of followers had been posted ten minutes ago. An ambulance was parked outside a luxury villa, surrounded by security. The camera zoomed in. A hand hung limp from the stretcher—slender, pale, undeniably his. Dark red liquid dripped from his fingertips, splashing onto the ground like blooming flowers. The headline screamed: Parker found dead by wrist-slashing at home. Suicide note suggests he died for love. I stared at the words “Died for Love.” My brain short-circuited. No, no, it shouldn’t be like this… Why would he die? How could he die? In an instant, memories flashed through my mind like a reel of film. They stopped at that snowy winter day when we were seventeen. Parker stood at the bottom of the school steps, reaching his hand out to me. “It’s a deal then, June.” His eyes curved into crescents, his smile impossibly gentle. “When I become a superstar, you’re going to be my manager.” A gust of wind blew, covering the world in white snow. It felt like a long dream. 3. “June? June!” I snapped back to reality. “Why are you zoning out? Parker is here!” I looked at Zoe’s concerned face and felt my eyes sting. Thank god. I was back. Back to the night of the reunion. I looked up and locked eyes with Parker. In that split second, I knew exactly what he was going to say— Do I know you? “Why are you crying?” The voice from my memory overlapped with the voice in my ear. I looked at him blankly. “What?” Unlike the last life, Parker didn’t ask who I was. He frowned slightly, repeating in a cold voice, “Why are you crying?” He started to reach out instinctively, then seemed to remember where we were and froze. He turned his face away, his frown deepening. I touched my cheek. I hadn’t realized I was crying. “June?” Zoe noticed too. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” “N-no…” I took a deep breath, wiped my face, and pretended to rub my eyes. “I think an eyelash fell in my eye.” So awkward. Crying right in front of him. Parker must think I’m insane. I peeked at him. He was talking to Zoe. Zoe was an editor at a fashion magazine now, the only one of us who crossed paths with Parker professionally. That’s why she had his number in my past life. The reunion had been planned for a month. Knowing Parker was coming, almost everyone showed up. Even as the food arrived, everyone’s eyes were glued to Parker. Some people are born protagonists. He just had to sit there to be the center of the universe. Separated by Zoe, I kept my head down and ate quietly. Seeing him alive was enough. If I don’t die this time, he won’t die either. After a few rounds of drinks, the Class President walked over to toast Parker. “Superstar! We thought you wouldn’t make it. You really honored us by coming!” Parker smiled, politely taking a sip of his wine. The Class President’s gaze drifted to Zoe, then to me. He frowned. “Are you… June?” Suddenly, everyone looked at me. “It really is you!” The President got excited when I nodded. “You transferred so suddenly in senior year and cut off all contact. I thought you wouldn’t come!” “Come to think of it, weren’t you and the Superstar desk mates back then?” I felt Parker’s gaze land on me heavily. “Is that so?” I heard Parker’s voice, cool and indifferent, as if I meant nothing. “I forgot long ago.” The food in my bowl had gone cold. I swallowed it. It tasted bitter. 4. The winter of our senior year, I transferred schools suddenly due to family issues. One day we were planning our future; the next, I vanished. For years, Zoe was the only one I kept in touch with. She knew my situation but never brought it up. The following summer, Parker exploded onto the scene via a talent show, taking the championship. That summer, his name was everywhere. The face I knew so well was on every TV screen. His songs played in every mall. Overnight, I went from the girl sharing his desk to just one of his millions of followers on Weibo. And finally, I could openly say: The person I like is named Parker. College out of state was lonely. Several times, I opened my chat with Parker, only to stare at the history and stay silent. June, where are you? June, you’re late. June, what happened? June, it’s snowing. Bring an umbrella. Further down were dozens of missed calls and worried messages. The last message was sent at midnight, nine hours later. June, I’m not waiting anymore. That was New Year’s Eve. We had planned to meet, and I stood him up. I typed and deleted, typed and deleted. Suddenly, my phone rang. I jumped. Seeing the caller ID, I instinctively answered. I heard his familiar breathing. My throat went tight. I didn’t know what to say. “June…” He sounded like he was grinding his teeth. “Speak.” “What does ‘typing’ for ten minutes mean?” I took a breath and whispered, “Are… are you okay?” His breath hitched. I had imagined our reunion a thousand times. But in the end, separated by a screen, I only heard his cold voice. “Thanks to you, I’m doing great.” After a long silence, I managed a dry reply. “That… that’s good. I hope you get even better. Become a huge star. Have a smooth path…” Beep— He hung up. I stared at the screen, laughing and crying at the same time. Later, he did exactly as I said. He became huge. His path was smooth. And my grand, secret, youthful crush quietly came to an end.

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As I was trying on wedding dresses, my best friend, Jennie, told me she had a huge surprise for me. I asked if she’d won the lottery. She said it was even more exciting than winning five million. Curious, I went to find her. I had just pulled up to her apartment building and was about to get out of the car when a barrage of text scrolled across my vision, flickering wildly: 【Don’t get out of the car! Her “surprise” is that she found the daughter you were forced to have when you were kidnapped.】 【If you get tangled up with that little monster, you’ll be dragged back to the mountains! They’ll beat you to death in a cellar!】 1 The message left me stunned for a full minute, until Jennie started spamming me with voice messages. 【Hailey, are you not upstairs yet?】 【Seriously, I’ve run myself ragged these past few days getting this wedding gift ready for you, and you’re dragging your feet. Are you trying to insult all my hard work?】 Jennie whined dramatically. The familiar, affectionate tone was enough to convince me that I must have been seeing things. It was just me scaring myself. Jennie would never be that kind of person. The text on my internal screen flared up again, frantic this time: 【You poor, naive girl, get a clue! She’s a manipulative witch. She’s been green with envy ever since she found out you were marrying a rich heir.】 【She found this little girl to mess with you!】 【The worst part is, the girl is bait! Her human trafficker father is hiding nearby, waiting for you to fall into the trap so he can drag you back to the mountains to bear him a son!】 My face went pale, and I sank back into the driver’s seat. If what the text said was true, this wasn’t about whether I trusted Jennie anymore. It was about the possibility of being kidnapped again. I couldn’t afford to take any chances. The stakes were too high. Jennie called, and I ruthlessly declined it, sending a quick text back: 【Something came up. I’m not there yet.】 I needed to buy some time. I could go to the security booth at the gate and ask if Jennie had really brought a little girl home. But the text stopped me again: 【Don’t get out! Your backstabbing friend is downstairs waiting to ambush you! If you get out now, she’ll catch you red-handed.】 Jennie was downstairs?! I peered through the car’s tinted windows and, sure enough, I saw her weaving between the parked cars, searching. After checking a license plate, she would press her face against the glass, trying to see inside. A sense of unease washed over me. I had clearly told her I wasn’t there yet. Why was she being so pushy? It wasn’t like she was hunting a criminal. The text chimed in: 【Because she knows you’re already here.】 【You forgot, didn’t you? Before you left, she specifically asked you to share your location.】 I slapped my forehead and quickly found the location-sharing app to turn it off. The text then advised me to put my phone on silent, which I did. But a deep sense of dread remained. All signs pointed to something being very wrong with Jennie. The truth didn’t even matter anymore; I just had to get out of there. Fortunately, I had been out with a coworker and was driving her car. Jennie didn’t know I was in this vehicle. I was about to quietly start the engine and leave when the text flashed a red exclamation point: 【Too late! The area is swarming with tabloid reporters and bloggers, all here for the big scoop: ‘Mountain Girl’s Tearful Reunion with Long-Lost Mother.’】 【Your “friend” planned this all along. No matter what, she’s going to force you to acknowledge this daughter today!】 【Only by forcing a reunion can she nail you to the pillar of shame for being kidnapped and defiled.】 It was true. I could never acknowledge a child forced upon me by a human trafficker. Jennie must have known that. That’s why she’d tipped off the media, to use public pressure to force my hand. The text, seeing that I finally understood, started offering advice. 【For now, just stay hidden. Without you, the show can’t go on.】 “Jennie, what is this big surprise you have for me?” I typed, my hands trembling as I huddled under the dashboard. Seeing my response, Jennie immediately tried to video call. I declined and told her to text me. 【If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise anymore. I can only promise that you’ll love it. Where are you? I’m coming down to get you.】 “Just tell me, is it something to eat, wear, or use?” 【Eat,】 she replied instantly, then immediately retracted the message and sent a new one: 【Oh, just stop asking! I told you, it’s a surprise. Don’t spoil the fun.】 I closed my eyes. The text was right. I’d been on a strict diet for the wedding. I had zero interest in food. Jennie was lying. 2 There was a reason I didn’t want to doubt Jennie. In my junior year of high school, I was kidnapped. And I gave birth to a daughter. Because I was a minor, the only people who knew besides the police and my family were Jennie, my neighbor and best friend. During the year I took off from school, she was by my side. She even held herself back a year so we could graduate together. She knew better than anyone how much I loathed human traffickers, how desperately I wanted to forget that horrific experience. So how could she, without a word, bring that child here and expect me to acknowledge her? For me, this wasn’t a surprise; it was a nightmare. To pull this stunt the day before my wedding, to lure me here and arrange for the media to be present… she was leaving me no way out. The text chimed in again: 【Your best friend has been trying to steal your fiancé for ages. After he rejected her, she never gave up. She’s been looking for a way to ruin things for you.】 【Then she stumbled upon the little girl’s ‘looking for mom’ post online and knew she had the perfect way to torment you.】 【That kid has been raised to be a monster. If you soften up and take her in, you’re finished.】 【Hang in there, Hailey. When the traffickers can’t find you, your “friend” will have to deal with the consequences of her actions. See if she’s so quick to play ‘find my mommy’ for someone else again.】 【Exactly! Don’t you dare give in. In the other version, after you die, your parents adopt Jennie. Then she seduces your brother and lives a cushy life in your family’s home.】 So, the text had already seen another version of this story. One where Jennie’s plan succeeded, and my compassion led me to acknowledge the child. She got me killed, then took my place, winning my parents’ affection, marrying my brother, and living happily ever after? As much as I didn’t want to believe I could be so foolish, so weak… without the text, I never would have suspected Jennie. And then all of this… I shook my head, trying to banish the terrifying thoughts. I knew what would happen. I would not let myself be chained to the floor naked again, eating spoiled food, stripped of all dignity day after day. Jennie finally found my car. After checking the license plate, she pressed her face against the window like a pancake, trying to see inside. 3 By now, I had quietly crawled into the trunk space of the six-seater electric car. Thank God for my coworker’s vehicle and its privacy curtains on the third-row windows. Jennie could stare until her eyes popped out, and she wouldn’t see me. She seemed tired of searching. Leaning against the car to catch her breath, she sent me a voice message: “Hailey, what are you doing? Come on out. I know you’re here.” I carefully shielded the light from my phone with my clothes and texted back, “The wedding planner had an emergency. I’ve already left your complex.” That seemed to do the trick. Jennie kicked the car door in frustration, her anger palpable. My heart jumped with the impact. “What rotten luck! Well, how soon can you get back? I’ll wait for you. I’m not leaving until I see you,” she cooed, her voice laced with a pouty disappointment, as if she were still my sweet, considerate friend who would never get angry with me. If only she hadn’t followed it up with another hard punch to the car window. So many years of blindness. Only now did I see her for the two-faced person she truly was. “Ruby, you can stop hiding! Come on out!” “Aunt Jennie, didn’t you say you had a way to make her acknowledge me today? Does she hate me?” A girl’s voice, unfamiliar and sharp with a thick, rural accent, approached the car. The kind of voice that belonged to a defiant, difficult child. Then, several other sets of footsteps closed in. “What the hell? This was supposed to be a mother-daughter reunion. Where is she? I can’t interview a ghost.” “I’m not waiting anymore. Just give me the woman’s info. I’ll expose her. A lovesick fool who abandons her own child. We’ll ruin her reputation.” “Then she’ll have to acknowledge the kid. The public outrage will bury her.” Jennie’s voice cut in, impatient. “Quiet down! We can’t let this get too big. Her parents and future in-laws are not people you want to mess with. We just need to handle her. She’s timid and soft-hearted. When she sees how pathetic Ruby is, she’ll definitely take her in.” It seemed Jennie had painted me as a selfish, heartless mother to get these people on board. Of course. If she’d told them the truth, who would help the child of a human trafficker stage a grand, public reunion? Another male blogger, hot-tempered and self-righteous, spoke up. “I can’t stand irresponsible women like her. You may be scared of her family, but I’m not. Let’s see them try to shut me up for telling the truth.” “Yeah, let’s just expose her! See if she dares to not acknowledge the kid then!” “A woman like that doesn’t deserve any respect!” With one person leading the charge, the others chimed in. Ruby’s tearful voice joined the chorus. “Thank you, uncles and aunts. I know you’re just trying to help, but I don’t want to make my mommy angry. Please, just leave her alone.” “Exactly,” Jennie said, taking the moral high ground. “You all get your moment of glory by exposing her, but what happens if she’s pushed too far? What if she acknowledges Ruby and then abuses her? Can you take responsibility for that?” Ruby sobbed, “Please, I’m begging you, just wait for my mommy. I know she’s not the person you think she is.” Their little performance quickly quelled the brewing storm. “Now, all of you, go hide,” Jennie commanded. “Don’t scare her off again.” The text on my screen was practically vibrating with rage: 【Here we go again. I hate it when this little monster fakes crying and plays the victim. She’s just like her grandmother—a master of manipulation and deceit.】 【Did you see that? While she was hiding behind that tree, she was pinching herself, leaving bruises all over, just so you’d feel sorry for her.】 【You, in your kindness, acknowledged her, wanting to give her a better life. And in return, she conspired with her trafficker father to kidnap you from your own home.】 【She has no empathy. She used to clap and cheer when she saw the other kidnapped women in her village being beaten. I think she’s a sociopath.】 【What really gets me is that she told the police, with a straight face, that the disobedient women deserved to be beaten to death.】 【But I think the “friend” is even worse. To get involved with a human trafficker over a bit of jealousy… as a woman, how could she be so cruel?】 The horrifying words on the screen made me tremble with fury. This Ruby had inherited her father’s cruel, cold-blooded nature, and perhaps even surpassed him. I had already experienced the darkness of humanity once, but today I learned that evil had no bottom. Watching them act out their little play in front of me was sickening. I sent Jennie another message: “I can’t make it today. My mom wants me to stay with her tonight. She’s sad about me getting married.” 4 Outside the car, Jennie stomped her feet in frustration. But she didn’t give up. She said she would wait for me, no matter how late. “Just bring the gift with you tomorrow. That’s it. I’m busy,” I replied firmly. Realizing I truly wasn’t coming, Ruby’s face twisted into a snarl. “That bitch is so much trouble. When my dad gets her, he’ll break her legs first, then chain her up. Let’s see her run then.” Jennie quickly shushed her. “Are you trying to ruin everything? Do you want a mother or not? Remember, in front of her, you have to pretend to hate your dad. Tell her he beats you, that you had no choice but to run away and find her.” A chill ran down my spine. Jennie knew exactly how to manipulate me, how to play on my sympathy. At the same time, I wanted to slap myself. Until a moment ago, I had been making excuses for her, telling myself she was just naive and wanted to help a poor child, that she didn’t understand the true horror of kidnapping. But the truth was, this was a premeditated plot to throw me back into the fire. The realization was a cold blow to the heart. From this moment on, she was no longer my best friend. She was my enemy. The failed plan left Ruby agitated. She kept complaining about Jennie and cursing me. “Ruby, be patient.” Jennie’s fingers drummed on the car door, her mind clearly working. “I’ve been thinking, and Hailey’s reaction today is very strange. I checked her shared location when I came downstairs. It showed she was here. Then, suddenly, she turned it off and said she’d already left the complex. The location sharing is real-time, and this is a one-way street. To leave, she would have had to drive right past me, but no cars have left.” Jennie’s voice dropped. “Keep searching. Go see which cars have a warm hood.” “What about this one? The hood is warm.” Ruby had, at some point, made her way to the front of my car. My heart leaped into my throat. 5 Jennie reached out and felt the hood. “It’s a little warm, but not hot. It’s probably just from the sun.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God she didn’t know much about electric cars and was expecting the heat of a gasoline engine. But then, she let out a slow, calculating smile. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll find her eventually. And on a 100-degree day like this, without the A/C on, I’d like to see how long she can last in there.” Damn it! I suddenly realized my back was soaked with sweat. My attention had been so focused elsewhere, and I’d been so nervous, that I hadn’t noticed the car’s A/C was running out of power. The air was already starting to feel thick and stuffy. A wave of regret washed over me. I wanted to slap myself. I had been too careless, too complacent. I thought that because I was in a new car, Jennie would give up when she couldn’t find me. What if she found me? Facing a well-prepared Jennie who knew all my weaknesses, and a manipulative Ruby playing the victim, I didn’t stand a chance. And with the media here, they would upload the videos immediately, and it would be too late. No, I absolutely could not get out of the car. Just then, the self-righteous male blogger came over to ask for an update. When Jennie told him she was certain I was in one of the cars, he grinned maliciously. “Simple. Electric cars have voice activation. Let me give it a try.” I was filled with a mixture of anger and panic. I curled up tighter, praying that my coworker had changed the wake-up command. The blogger squinted at the car’s logo. “So many new electric brands these days. I don’t even recognize this one.” But then he added, “I’ll just take a picture and search it online.” With the click of his phone’s camera, a bead of sweat rolled down my forehead. My nerves were stretched to their breaking point. “Found it! Let’s give it a try.” I was about to faint from fear. The text on my screen was a chaotic mess of panicked messages. I scanned through them and found a useful one: 【Contact your brother, quick! Last time, he was working nearby. When he heard about you acknowledging the daughter, he rushed right over.】 My hands fumbled as I tried to find my brother’s contact. “Hey, S—” The blogger had started to call out the car’s voice command. My vision went dark. Even if I messaged my brother now, it would be too late. “Hey, what are you doing? Are you the owner of this car?” Suddenly, a security patrol car pulled up, and a guard leaned out, yelling. A savior! I was on the verge of tears. Jennie smiled and walked over. “Oh, Officer Davis, it’s you! Working in this heat? Aren’t your bosses worried about you getting heatstroke?” The guard clearly knew Jennie and they exchanged a few pleasantries. Then he asked again if she was the car’s owner. Jennie put on a worried expression. “Officer, I can’t get a hold of my friend. I’m worried something might have happened to her in the car. I was just trying to see if I could get the window open to help her.” The guard asked, “Are you sure she’s in this car?” “Well, she switched cars today, so I’m not sure which one is hers. Hey, Officer Davis, were you on duty at the main gate about half an hour ago? Did you see this car come in?” It was over. The guard got out of his patrol car, walked over, and took a look. He scratched his head. “Oh, this car. Yeah, I remember it. It’s one of those new luxury electrics. It came in about 30 minutes ago. The driver was a woman.” 6 After the security guard left, Jennie stood by the car, her face grim, not moving. The male blogger was gleeful. “Well, what do you know? After all that searching, she was right under your nose the whole time. Isn’t that a coincidence?” Jennie’s face darkened further. He asked if he should try the voice command now. I clutched my phone, my knuckles white. Jennie didn’t answer him. Instead, she walked to the third-row window and tapped on it. “Hailey, you’re in there, aren’t you? Why did you lie to me? You know how worried I am.” Her voice was flat, but it held a barely suppressed rage. “That b—” Ruby kicked the car door hard. Jennie cut her off. “Mr. Chen, I’d like to talk to her for a minute.” The blogger looked confused, but he moved away. Ruby couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So she was hiding in the car all along, watching us run around like idiots! That bitch did it on purpose! Why are you still being so nice to her, Aunt Jennie?” My disgust for the child grew. Jennie kept tapping on the window and calling me. I stuffed my phone under the seat cushion and let it ring. I didn’t even dare to decline the call. “Hailey, you must have fainted, right? After all, it’s so hot today,” Jennie murmured to herself, staring at the window. Watching her expressionless face, a strange sense of dread washed over me. BANG! The car suddenly lurched. Then came Jennie’s enraged screams. “Hailey, why are you making me do this? If you have a problem, just say it! What’s the point of hiding? Do you enjoy seeing me make a fool of myself? I was trying to do something nice for you, and this is how you treat me?” I almost screamed. My heart was pounding like a drum. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe, and my vision went black. When I came to, the car felt like a sealed steam box. I had to tilt my head back and gasp for air, praying that my brother would see my message soon. “Hey, Siri!” she yelled, her voice filled with a desperate, crazed anger. She was done playing games. This was it. My breath caught in my throat as I watched the center console light up, the car’s ambient lighting turning on—but there was no voice response. Seeing a reaction, Jennie stood on her tiptoes, peering through the gap in the window, and yelled louder. After a few more tries, she had Ruby try. “You yell. A child’s voice carries better.” I finally got a clear look at Ruby’s face in the window. It was a chilling echo of that monster from my past. The sight made my stomach turn, and I quickly looked away. “Hey, Siri!” she shrieked, her face contorted, her eyes filled with malice. “Hey, Siri!” Her voice was raw by the time the car finally responded. “Vehicle is locked. This function is unavailable.” “Vehicle is locked. This function is unavailable.” I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. I was starting to feel weak, on the verge of fainting. My brain was being starved of oxygen. “Aunt Jennie, it’s not working! Let’s just smash the window and drag her out!” Ruby started pounding on the car, yelling and screaming. The car’s lights flashed and the alarm blared. Finally, the noise woke up the residents in the building. Windows opened, and people started shouting. “What’s all that noise? Are you trying to wake the dead?” “If you keep hitting that car, I’m calling the police! Who are you people?” Jennie tried her usual excuse, but the angry neighbors weren’t buying it. Some even started throwing water down. “I don’t care! If you’re worried about your friend, call an ambulance! What’s the point of bothering us?” “I’ve had enough of you! I bet you were trying to steal the car, and now you’re just mad you failed.” “You idiots think you can just shout at a car and it will open for you? Get off the internet.” “So brazen, in broad daylight! Thieves these days have no shame!” Jennie and Ruby, already frustrated with me, started yelling back at the neighbors. I was grateful for the distraction, but I was running out of air. My mind was getting fuzzy. Through the haze, I heard a man’s voice, running and shouting. “Jennie! Where’s Hailey? What have you done to her?” 7 The text on my screen was a blur of frantic messages: 【Hang in there, Hailey! Your brother is here! It’s our turn to fight back!】 【Don’t fall asleep! Your brother doesn’t know the real Jennie yet!】 【Wake up and expose her!】 I pinched my thigh, hard. Ouch! Jennie’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and rushed to take my brother’s arm. “Alex! What could I possibly do to Hailey? I was just worried she might have gotten heatstroke in the car. Why are you—” My brother was about to speak when the trunk of the car popped open, and I tumbled out, my face pale. “Alex—” “Hailey!” He lunged forward and caught me. “It’s the child from the village. Jennie called the media to force me to acknowledge her,” I managed to say before closing my eyes. My brother’s face hardened. Just then, the reporters and bloggers, smelling a story, swarmed toward us. My brother instinctively shielded my face with his hand. “It’s you people! You cornered her car and did this to my sister! If anything happens to her, you’ll all be held responsible!” He wanted to rush me to the hospital. “No, Alex, I can handle it,” I said, forcing my eyes open and grabbing his shirt. We had to clear this up now, before Jennie had a chance to twist the story. “But Hailey—” My brother looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and conflict. I knew what he was worried about, but I nodded firmly. “I’m not afraid, Alex.” Just then, Ruby, trembling, tugged on my brother’s sleeve. “Uncle, my name is Ruby. I’m Mommy’s daughter. I’ve finally found you. I’ve missed you all so much. Mommy, I can do chores, and I don’t eat much. Please don’t send me away.” The media, who had been looking a bit guilty, were now filled with righteous indignation. “We were just trying to help a child find her mother, with the best of intentions. We didn’t know you would be so cruel as to hide from her.” “If you’re going to abandon your child, we’ll get a lawyer for Ruby and sue you for desertion.” The neighbors who had gathered around chimed in. “That’s right! You gave birth to her, you have to acknowledge her!” “Oh, look at that poor child. She’s obviously suffered so much, while they’re all dressed up so nicely.” “They probably just don’t want to be burdened by a child. Young people these days are so selfish. No sense of family, tsk tsk.” At that moment, Jennie, who had been silent, suddenly shouted, “Hailey, I’m sorry!” All eyes turned to her. With tears in her eyes, she looked at me sincerely. “It’s my fault today. I didn’t tell you beforehand, and I almost got you into trouble. But you told me you hated Ruby, that you would never acknowledge her, that sometimes you even wished you could kill her. You said she was your shame, that she ruined your life, that she should never have been born!” As soon as she said that, a chorus of curses erupted from the crowd. Jennie slowly moved closer to us, while my brother, his face a mask of fury, held me and backed away.

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Chapter 1 My best friend and I were bound by the same System. Her mission: Seduce the stoic, ascetic heir, Ethan, and break his composure. My mission: Capture the heart of my cold, adopted guardian, Julian. But Ethan spent his days meditating and ignoring worldly desires, treating her like air. And Julian was still hung up on his “one that got away,” treating me like a child for three years, never seeing me as a woman. After being tortured emotionally for too long, I decided to give up. “I’m so tired. I’m quitting. What about you?” I asked her. “If you quit, I quit.” We hit it off instantly. We pulled out our phones, calculated our savings, and prepared to take the money and run. “But… which one of us dies first?” “Whoever dies first goes home first. The survivor has to clean up the mess and handle the funeral.” We looked at each other. Chloe raised her hand first. “I suffered the most. I’ll die first.” “No way. Rock, paper, scissors. I can’t stay in this hellhole a second longer.” “Fine. Rock, paper, scissors.” Chloe threw scissors. I threw paper. She won. I stomped my foot in frustration. “Fine. You die first. I’ll collect your body.” … For the next two days, Chloe didn’t contact me. I was curious about how she planned to end it. That evening, just as I was about to call her, she called me. “Sarah…” Her voice was sluggish, slurred, and mixed with the rushing sound of wind. “Are you drunk?” My heart tightened. “Just a little,” she hiccuped, speaking in fragments. “Liquid courage… I’m going to do something big!” I jumped off the sofa. “I thought we agreed on next Friday?” Chapter 2 The plan was for her to leave in seven days, and I would follow after handling her affairs. “I don’t want to wait,” her voice was scattered by the wind. “Today is perfect. I want to die today.” “Sarah, I wanted to see Ethan one last time… I’ve been with him for three years. I know what position he wants just by a look… I’m so unwilling to let go…” “He’s having dinner with his first love… he won’t answer my calls…” “Three years… even a dog would wag its tail at me by now…” “But he still doesn’t like me…” “Ethan, that bastard, won’t even give me a minute on the phone… Since today is Bella’s birthday, I’ll make it my death day. I’ll make sure he never forgets today as long as he lives.” She rambled, her logic messy, but her intent clear. She wanted to leave tonight. She wanted to hear Ethan’s voice one last time. But he didn’t give her the chance. I couldn’t accept it. I wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. I grabbed my phone and ran out the door, my voice trembling. “Chloe, where are you? Wait for me. Let me be with you, okay?” “Sarah…” She ignored me, speaking to herself. “Jumping off a building is messy. You need to find the best mortician to do my makeup.” “And don’t bury me. I’m scared of the dark. Cremate me and scatter me in the bay. Make sure Ethan never finds me.” Chapter 3 Every word she spoke was a needle in my heart. I felt Chloe’s pain as if it were my own. I had watched her suffer all these years. I was shivering, but I forced myself to sound calm. “I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to tell me where you are. I want to be with you.” “No. I don’t want you to see… it’ll scare you…” The line went silent, leaving only the harsh sound of the wind. I searched the streets like a madwoman, screaming her name. Until my legs gave out and I fell hard onto the pavement. “Sarah, I’ll wait for you at home.” That was the last thing Chloe said. Thud— At the foot of the Jinmao Apartment complex, I watched Chloe fall. Like a broken butterfly, dropping from the eighteenth floor. Blood stained the ground red. Chloe died right before my eyes. I knelt helplessly beside her, touching her face, shaking and sobbing. “You loved being beautiful… how could you choose this way to go…” Even though I knew Chloe wasn’t truly dead—that we would meet again in our original world—seeing this broke me. I had overestimated my endurance and underestimated her weight in my heart. For three years, we relied on each other to survive the lonely nights of rejection. At the crematorium, I personally pushed her body into the furnace. I watched the flames swallow the smile she once wore. When the staff handed me the small urn, my tears broke free again. “Chloe… how did you become so small…” Chapter 4 I followed her wishes and scattered her ashes into the bay. The turbulent water swept everything away instantly. Just like her. Gone without a trace. “Wait for me… I’ll be there soon.” I whispered to the river. In my bag, Chloe’s phone suddenly buzzed. I picked it up. A message from Ethan. [Tonight, 8 PM. Wait for me at the Peninsula Hotel.] I laughed coldly at the screen. He was always like this. Never caring about Chloe’s feelings. He treated her like a tool to be summoned and dismissed at will. When he didn’t need her, he disappeared. When he did, she had to be there. But why? Just because she loved him, did she deserve to be trampled on? I didn’t reply. I turned the phone off. He missed his chance to see her one last time. Let him live with that regret forever. Chapter 5 I sat by the river until dawn before going home. The morning sun hit me, but I felt no warmth. I was exhausted, body and soul. The System required me to maintain the persona of a devoted lover. So in the past, no matter how ugly things got between us the day before, I would wake up at 6 AM to prepare breakfast for Julian. The System always comforted me: suffer now, enjoy later. After the conquest is successful, a man like Julian will spoil you rotten. But for three years, I tasted only bitterness, never sweetness. Now that my best friend’s affairs were settled, it was time for me to go. I picked up the fruit knife on the table and pressed it against my wrist. But I hesitated. I gestured a few times, then put the knife down. Julian hated me so much. If I died in his house, he would probably find it disgusting. He used to say I didn’t deserve the surname Shen. He said his brother shouldn’t have adopted me. That I was an ungrateful animal for falling in love with my own guardian. He said I deserved to be abandoned, deserved to be unwanted trash. But being abandoned wasn’t my fault. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to be a Shen either. But no one ever gave me a choice. Even binding with the System was forced upon me. I sighed and collapsed onto the bed. I accidentally fell asleep. In my daze, the System’s cold notification sound rang out. [Sarah Shen, your points are maxed out. The exit channel is open. Please prepare to leave by tomorrow evening.] I nodded in my mind. “Okay. I’m going home.” I woke up with a start. Overnight, I cleared everything related to me out of the villa. Braving the heavy rain, I threw it all into the dumpster outside. The rain washed everything away, including my last lingering attachment to Julian. From now on, this villa would hold no trace of me.

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I discovered I was the villainess in a BL novel only after my boyfriend cheated on me with my childhood friend. Right now, my boyfriend and my childhood friend are locking lips with unmistakable passion. With tears in my eyes, I offered my blessings, willingly stepped aside as the “discarded woman,” and immediately booked a one-way flight out of the country. No one knew that my boyfriend was a possessive psychopath. Three months later, someone blocked my doorway. My childhood friend licked my earlobe and asked, his voice dripping with grievance: “Yao Yao, you seduced me into stealing your boyfriend. How could you abandon me like this?” 1 I was comforting my best friend after her breakup. She got wasted. I half-dragged, half-carried her home. “Why is that douchebag here? Didn’t you say he was on a business trip?” The “douchebag” in Chloe’s vocabulary referred to only one person: my boyfriend, Shen Yan. A billionaire heir with a control freak streak a mile wide. No unauthorized friends. Three daily check-in calls. Phone inspections every night. Tonight, I had snuck out behind his back to drink with Chloe. I denied it instantly. “Impossible.” But I instinctively looked where she was pointing. My heart nearly stopped. I clamped a hand over Chloe’s mouth and dragged her into the bushes. Through the leaves, I saw it. My boyfriend was hugging someone. I almost laughed out loud. Yes! He’s cheating! Finally, a reason to break up! I raised my phone to snap a picture, eager to secure the evidence. I squinted closer. Wait. The person he was hugging… looked like my childhood friend, Lu Yue. My brain short-circuited. Holy crap. My boyfriend is gay! Chloe let out a violent hiccup and threw up all over the ground. I missed my chance. The couple had already walked away. I was so mad I ripped a handful of leaves off the bush. Chloe, finally processing what she saw, squinted and slurred: “That person the douchebag was hugging… looked like a dude…” 2 That night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, I was a supporting character—the villainess—in a BL novel. The “Top” was the billionaire heir, my current boyfriend, Shen Yan. The “Bottom” was my childhood friend, Lu Yue. And me? I was the vicious female antagonist Shen Yan settled for after failing to get Lu Yue. In the story, after discovering Shen Yan was in love with Lu Yue, I went crazy and tried to stab him. I ended up in prison, miserable and disgraced. Shen Yan lovingly nursed the injured Lu Yue back to health, and they lived happily ever after. On the day of their wedding, the day I was released from prison, I got hit by a car and died. I woke up speechless for a second, then screamed: “Bullshit!” What an insult. If I actually liked that dog of a man Shen Yan, I’d walk into traffic or choke on water right now. Who in their right mind would like a psychopath like Shen Yan? It was slander! Pure slander! I was so angry I started crying. A raspy voice whispered in my ear. Someone wrapped an arm around my waist and asked: “Baby, who are you cursing? Why are you crying?” 3 I looked up and met Shen Yan’s smiling eyes. My legs went weak. Last night, after dropping Chloe off, I tried to sneak home. The moment I opened the door, the house was pitch black. Before I could hit the lights, someone lifted my shirt, covered my mouth, pinned me against the wall, and kissed me forcefully. “Baby, you smell like alcohol. Where did you go?” He “stir-fried” me all night long. No matter how I tried to explain, he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t understand. Did Lu Yue not satisfy him? Useless. I retorted immediately, full of righteous indignation: “I dreamed you cheated on me.” Shen Yan’s smile didn’t falter. His hand under the covers was tearing at my nightgown. This was the twenty-third nightgown this month! I held it down desperately. I continued: “I also dreamed that not only did you cheat, you came out of the closet!” The wandering hand finally stopped. Shen Yan stopped smiling. His eyes hinted at danger. Seizing his moment of guilt, I went for the kill. I said with absolute calm: “I want to break up.” Shen Yan laughed again. An angry laugh. “Breaking up over a ridiculous dream? Are you playing with me?” He pinched the back of my neck, gritting his teeth: “Don’t forget, you’re the ‘treasure’ your father pawned to me. “We only break up when I say so.” 4 Breakup attempt failed. I was locked in the “dark room” for a month. Shen Yan called it his “rut period” and claimed he needed my comfort. Honestly, among all the “beasts,” mermen are the prettiest. All sparkly and shiny. But eating the same dish every day gets old. Especially when that dish is a blackened, yandere, neurotic mess. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t chew it. I needed someone to share the burden. We’re all sisters here; I shouldn’t hoard the goods. So I sought out Lu Yue. Lu Yue elegantly cut my steak and handed it to me. “Yao Yao, you haven’t come to see me in so long. I thought you hated me.” That “Yao Yao”—so soft, so dripping with tenderness. No wonder he’s a fox spirit. In the past, that tone would have given me goosebumps. Lu Yue loved calling me that back then. Before he was reclaimed by the Lu family, he was even more twisted than he is now. Whenever he called my name, I knew I was in for it. A swarm of girls who liked him would get jealous and bully me. They’d splash water on me, scare me with bugs, pour boiling water on me, force me to run laps in the summer heat. Only by sticking to his side 24/7 could I avoid the torment. Which, of course, made me a thorn in the girls’ eyes. I knew it was all his sick game. When he was unhappy, he’d sic those girls on me. Then, when I was at my lowest, he’d pretend to be the kind, gentle savior, expecting me to be grateful. Lu Yue wanted me to fall madly in love with him, just like those girls. Because he said he liked me. But I didn’t like him, so he wanted me to suffer. I said coldly, “You’re overthinking it.” Lu Yue smiled and stole a piece of meat from my plate. A piece I had already bitten. “I still prefer Yao Yao’s things.” Lu Yue licked his lips, radiating seduction. Psycho. I cursed internally and gave him a dirty look. I asked: “Why did you go see Shen Yan?” Lu Yue looked at me, eyes full of doting affection. Like he was indulging a tantrum-throwing girlfriend. “Because you wouldn’t come out to see me, Yao Yao. So I had to go find Shen Yan.” He smiled again. “Shen Yan seemed much happier to see me than you did.” I jumped up in rage. My heels were too high; I almost twisted my ankle. My voice was shrill, bordering on hysterical: “You know how much I love Shen Yan, yet you go and seduce him! You just can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”

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The sixteenth time I went to bail Nathan out of jail. This time, I brought the divorce papers with me. Sophia was sobbing, her story tumbling out between breaths. “Clara, please don’t be mad. Some guys were harassing me at the club again, and Nate was just trying to protect me.” Nathan looked at me, his voice a soft, placating murmur. “Clara, can we please just talk about this at home? Don’t make a scene here.” Everyone stared at the bitter smile on the wife’s face. No one expected me to slap my husband across his. “Fine,” I said, my voice clear and cold. “You two can go home and get married.” “Just sign the divorce papers and leave me alone.” 1 A bitter night wind whipped through my hair. I looked down at the evening gown and heels I had so carefully chosen for the occasion, and a wave of self-loathing washed over me. I’d lost count of how many times Nathan and I had fought over Sophia. Ever since his ex-girlfriend had returned to the country, my emotions had been a runaway train. Even today, on my twenty-sixth birthday. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Nathan, telling me not to be angry, that he remembered my birthday and had a gift for me. Once, those words would have filled me with joy. That’s how it always was. He’d offer a gift, a small gesture of affection, and I would forget all my hurt and grievances, my love for him rekindled. But not this time. I scrolled through our chat history and saw the sixteenth apology for something involving Sophia. And in that moment, something inside me settled. The anger was gone. The hurt, the sadness—they had vanished too. All that was left was the tired certainty of knowing the ending before the story even begins. See? I knew what he was going to say. Every apology was because of her. The strange thing was, this time, it didn’t hurt at all. I bought myself a hot chocolate. And I walked home alone. For me, I guess love can die in an instant. 2 It was past five in the morning when Nathan, bailed out by someone else, finally showed up at my door. He hammered on the door, shouting that he wouldn’t divorce me. He broke a window pane to let himself in, bringing with him the cloying scent of Sophia’s gardenia perfume. “Clara, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, forgive me.” He reeked of alcohol and tried to touch me, to pull me into an embrace. He had no idea that the thick perfume clinging to him made me want to retch. I grabbed his wandering hands and threatened to call the police. His attitude soured instantly. “What’s the problem? We’ve been married for five years. What’s one more time?” “Clara, don’t forget, you were the one who said you didn’t mind that I had an ex. Now you’re going back on your word. You women are such fickle creatures.” Sensing he’d gone too far, he softened his tone. “I already apologized for what happened at the station. Can we please just stop fighting?” He reached for the sash of my robe. “I said, get out. If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the cops.” This was the small apartment I had bought before we were married. I have no idea how he even found this place. I could feel his anger building behind me, a familiar storm I had weathered too many times. I took him by surprise, grabbing a knife from the kitchen block. When I brandished it with a look of pure disgust and told him to get the hell out, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and a look of urgency crossed his face. He quickly tried to placate me one last time before stepping out to take the call. I knew who it was. Who else would he be so eager to talk to in the middle of the night? I could hear his voice from the hallway, laced with laughter and the soft, sweet tones he used to use with me, back when we were first in love. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to block it all out. I didn’t stay in the apartment. I checked into a nearby hotel. 3 I called my best friend. I needed a place to stay for a while. She was thrilled to have me. As for Nathan, I knew we were done. Truly done. I planned to have my things moved out of the apartment as soon as possible. My friend, a staunch bachelorette, knew I was heartbroken. She took a week off work and dragged me to amusement parks, determined to cheer me up. She knew me. Five years of love doesn’t just disappear. A part of me, deep down, was still holding on. We did everything I’d never dared to do before: bungee jumping, skiing, skydiving. Exhausted but happy, we finally headed back to her cozy little apartment. But Nathan was there, waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. He spoke first, his voice strained. “Clara. You seem to be in a good mood, now that I’m gone.” “Yes. You’ve been busy, and so have I.” I had no interest in making small talk. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “For ruining your birthday.” In the past, his jealousy would have been a secret thrill. Now, it was just… pathetic. “You don’t have to apologize. We’re not right for each other. When it’s over, it’s over.” I just wanted the conversation to end. He hesitated, a look of disappointment on his face when I didn’t explode with anger. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you,” I began. “I think this relationship…” He cut me off, as if he knew what was coming. “Clara, I’ve already compromised.” Seeing the look on my face, he backtracked. “I’m so sorry. It was my fault. Please don’t…” I shattered his illusion. “We are not a good match.” “And I need you to consider my feelings. Your birthday wasn’t the first time, but it will be the last.” “You can look at your chat history. The apologies are endless. So many that… I’m just so, so tired.” Nathan was silent for a long time. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, Clara,” he whispered. “Please don’t be angry…” I understood. He was still running. He knew there was a problem, but his only solution was to bury me in apologies until I gave up. The slam of the door echoed in the hallway. This time, I was the one who had slammed it. It was a release. An end to the emotional entanglement. A final, honest confession to myself. 4 I had already found a new apartment online. I hailed a cab with my two suitcases. As I settled into the back seat, my phone rang. It was Nathan. “Even if we break up, can’t we at least be friends?” he asked, his voice full of a bitter sadness. “I’m only just realizing what a terrible husband I’ve been.” “For the past two years, I’ve taken you for granted. I haven’t taken care of you.” “No wonder you left me. I was awful.” “Clara, I’ll change. I’ll be the man you fell in love with again. I’ll be even better.” “I won’t let you down again.” I sighed. “There’s no point, Nathan. We’re done. We don’t need to see each other again.” I hung up. I adapted to my new life with surprising ease. I was busy. Organizing my new home, buying furniture, focusing on my job, studying for certification exams in my spare time. My days were full from the moment I woke up until my head hit the pillow. It was a happy kind of busy. I never thought about Nathan. Not once. I didn’t care about his life, his relationships. I thought we would never see each other again. The world is a big place. Our paths had diverged. But one day, I came downstairs and saw him. He had found my new apartment. “What are you doing here?” I blurted out. “Coming home,” he said, pointing to the apartment across the hall. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “I’m not.” He held up a grocery bag. “I just bought some things for hot pot. Want to join me tonight?” “Nathan, are you insane? Why would you move here?” “I’m not insane. I’m being perfectly rational.” He was actually smiling. “You’re an adult. You have your own home. Why are you wasting money on rent? This place is on the opposite side of the city from your office. You’re almost thirty, why are you acting like a child?” He just smiled. “I’m glad you still care about me, Clara.” I tried to leave, to check into a hotel, but he wouldn’t let me. He grabbed my arm and tried to drag me back to our old home. “That’s not our home anymore.” “Nathan, you can’t un-ring a bell. Let’s get a divorce.” “Why are you so obsessed with getting a divorce?” He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. In his mind, I was the one who was always accommodating, the one who couldn’t live without him. We’d been together since college. He was the student body president, handsome and brilliant, with a legion of admirers. I was the quiet, studious girl. Everyone said I was punching above my weight. To be honest, at first, he thought so too. If Sophia hadn’t gone abroad to study, I never would have had a chance. So he couldn’t understand why I would want to leave him. He thought he was doing me a favor by choosing me. And a charity case has no right to make demands. He was searching for an explanation. He thought I must have found someone else. “Clara, are you just trying to punish me for neglecting you? I swear, I’ll never do it again. I promise!” “Can we just drop the divorce talk for now?” He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away. The thought of him and Sophia made my stomach turn. I wanted nothing to do with him. That evening, he showed up at my door with several containers of food he had cooked himself. My heart sank when I saw the plate of shrimp. I’m allergic to shrimp. After all these years, he still didn’t know. I never ate seafood. I just ate some plain rice. He thought I had no appetite and tried to put a shrimp on my plate. “I’m allergic to shrimp,” I said flatly. His chopsticks froze mid-air. He retracted his hand awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Clara. I do remember, I just… my head’s been all over the place tonight.” “It must be because you mentioned divorce. You can’t joke like that again.” 5 His words meant nothing to me anymore. A little while later, his phone rang. It was Sophia. He was instantly frantic. “What am I going to do? Sophia is allergic to cats! She can’t be around animals! How could she be so careless?” “I have to go to the hospital!” I watched him pace like a caged animal, my own heart as still as a frozen lake. I kept eating my rice. If I didn’t take care of myself, who would? He rushed out without another word to me, though he did manage to shout another “sorry” over his shoulder. I couldn’t understand his obsession. Not long after he left, my boss, Leo, called. “Clara, are you free for a drink?” I thought for a moment, then agreed. Leo said he was nearby and would pick me up. I was surprised when he pulled up in a sports car. He was dressed as impeccably as always, but his usually cool demeanor was flushed with alcohol. Leo had gone to the same university as me, a year behind me. He was a campus legend—handsome, wealthy, the whole package. I never expected to end up working for his company. We usually communicated through messages; we rarely saw each other in person. Tonight, he’d invited me out, and honestly, I needed a drink. But when we got to the bar, he just started downing glass after glass of whiskey. “You know,” he slurred, “love is a ridiculous thing. Of all the women I’ve met, you’re the most… reli… able.” He passed out. I managed to get him to his car before I realized I didn’t know where he lived. I couldn’t very well take him to my place. So I took him to a hotel. And there, in the hallway, I saw Nathan and Sophia, coming out of the room next to ours. Our eyes met. We were all stunned. “What… what are you doing here?” Nathan demanded, as if I was the one who needed to explain. “What are you doing here?” I shot back. “Shouldn’t you be at a hospital for a cat allergy?” “I… I…” he stammered. Sophia glared at me. “I asked him to come. So what? You can bring a man to a hotel, why can’t he?” I laughed. “He can do whatever he wants. We’re getting a divorce. Your games have nothing to do with me.” A complicated expression crossed Nathan’s face. He grabbed my hand. “Clara, you can’t be so cruel! You promised you’d love me forever!” I yanked my hand away from his. “Nathan, I’ve caught you red-handed. Are you still going to deny it?” “Let me explain! It’s not what you think! Sophia and I are just friends! We were just talking about some things!” I pushed open the door to their room. It was a mess. Used condoms and stockings were strewn across the floor. “This is what you call ‘talking’?” He was speechless.

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My fiancé, Julian, and I went from high school sweethearts to nearly married. But on the eve of our wedding, he died in a tragic accident. I cried until I almost fainted, but suddenly, text messages started floating before my eyes. [Can someone tell the female lead that he faked his death?!] [Julian’s mistress ran away when she found out he was getting married. He faked his death to chase her to London! The female lead is crying at his grave while the mistress is crying in his bed. I’m so mad!] [It’s a pity. When he comes back from his ‘death,’ the female lead won’t know anything and will happily marry him…] Two weeks later. News of my engagement to the city’s most eligible billionaire spread across New York. Julian’s accomplice, his best friend, rushed over to confront me: “Julian hasn’t been gone for long, and you’re already in a rush to find someone new?” “He’s dead. You don’t expect me to stay a widow forever, do you?” 1 When the floating text first appeared before my eyes, I thought I was hallucinating from grief. But the text kept scrolling. [If the female lead goes to the rooftop now, she’ll know the male lead isn’t dead at all.] [She hasn’t eaten in two days because of him. She can barely walk. Why would she go to the rooftop?] I dragged my heavy legs toward the rooftop. Just a few steps from the top, I heard a voice I knew too well. It carried a hint of amusement. “Is my funeral over yet?” The voice was coming from Julian’s best friend, Leo’s phone. “Not yet, Julian.” “What about Chloe? Did she suspect anything?” Leo: “No, she’s been busy with everything. She almost passed out yesterday from grief. She’s probably still crying in her room.” Julian sounded casual: “Comfort her for me.” Another friend, Sam, chimed in: “But Julian, you really fell for that little bird, huh? Faking your death to chase her to London, even making us act along with you.” The floating text was real. I gripped the handrail tightly. Every cell in my body trembled. I heard Julian say: “Doesn’t matter if I fell for her or not. Just keep it from Chloe.” Leo asked: “Are you still going through with the wedding?” “Of course. When I get back, the wedding is still on. But before I get married, let me be crazy for love just once, right?” “Fair enough.” “Once I’m married, I’ll be tied to one person. No more chances like this. Haha.” The three of them laughed, sharing their secret. My blood froze. I shuddered uncontrollably. I had prayed countless times for Julian to be alive. But never like this. 2 [Ahhh the female lead knows the truth! I hope she wakes up!] [Go out there and tear that scumbag apart!!!] I didn’t rush out to expose them. I turned around. Calmly, I walked back down the stairs. After dry heaving in the toilet, I looked at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t slept for days. My eyes were red, my face haggard. I splashed water on my face and wiped away the tear stains. [As expected, the female lead chooses to accept it silently. So frustrating!] [She loves him too much. She probably heard him say he’d still marry her and decided to swallow her pride.] [I think she’s planning something big. She doesn’t want to show her hand too early.] When I walked out of the room, Leo handed me two tissues. His face was full of concern: “Chloe, don’t be too sad. Julian’s spirit wouldn’t want to see you like this.” I looked up at his fake, solemn face. “Do you think Julian might not be dead?” 3 Leo looked panicked for a split second. But he quickly recovered: “H-How could that be? His jacket and shoes were found. You saw them yourself.” A week ago, Julian drove into the river late at night. Police deduced he was swept away by the current while trying to escape. I stayed by the river all night, sleepless. The rescue team searched for days, only finding his coat and shoes. I nearly fainted from grief. Today was supposed to be our wedding day. I cried holding our photo until my head throbbed. Now they tell me it was all a setup. My grief was just a joke from start to finish. [The male lead is trash. Keeping a mistress is disgusting.] [I thought this was a sweet romance novel, but it turned into a nightmare.] [The female lead is a gorgeous heiress. If he doesn’t want her, plenty of others do.] The nausea in my chest eased slightly thanks to the comments. Leo continued: “Chloe, stop overthinking. If Julian could see you, he’d be heartbroken.” Heartbroken… Such ironic words. This morning I was thanking him for helping with Julian’s funeral arrangements. Turns out, birds of a feather flock together. 4 Following the hints from the floating text, I found the TikTok account of Julian’s mistress. I realized I had seen her many times before. She was a small influencer signed to Julian’s media company, named Bella. Her handle was “Bella’s Daily.” Her latest video showed the streets of London, clasped hands, and a reunion embrace. The small mole on the man’s hand was all too familiar. The caption read: “In our purest love, he left his arranged fiancée and traveled thousands of miles to find me. The wind of longing finally blew from New York to London.” The video went viral. Comments gushed over their “beautiful love.” “The runaway mistress and the CEO chasing her! It’s like a romance novel!” “I know this plot! The CEO actually loves you, sis. The fiancée is just a tool to make him realize his feelings~” “Rich boys are always so romantic. I want a sugar daddy too 😭” The floating text: [These comments must be bots. This isn’t a romance; it’s a homewrecker story.] [Calling it an ‘arranged marriage’ to make the cheater look good? The female lead’s actual arranged partner was the villain in the book!]

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The day Julian Hayes brought me back from that underground auction, he stood over me, cold and imperious. “I only bought you because I needed a new plaything. Don’t flatter yourself thinking I still have feelings for you.” I knew he hated me. He hated me for breaking our engagement years ago when he was at his lowest, stripped of his inheritance and dignity. So, even when he showered me with expensive gifts and affection later, I never forgot my place: just a toy. Toys don’t get to have babies. So when I found out I was pregnant, I kept it a secret. The day he left to pick up his “first love” from the airport, I didn’t make a scene. I quietly packed my bags and vanished. I thought he wouldn’t care. But later, I heard the rumors. That night, Julian tore the city apart, like a madman, looking for the woman he claimed he despised. 1 I was bored, scrolling through TikTok on the couch. The moment I opened the app, Julian’s face filled the screen. He’d been at a major business summit the past few days, and footage of him was everywhere. With his sharp jawline, tailored suit, and commanding presence, the comment section was flooded with thirsty fans calling him “Daddy” and “Husband.” But the internet detectives were quick. In one interview clip, someone zoomed in on his neck. There was a very distinct, very red bite mark just above his collar. The “Daddy” comments instantly turned into heartbroken wails. Who is the lucky girl eating that good?! She really went for the jugular. That mark hasn’t faded in days. Someone was hungry. Reading the comments, my face burned. I couldn’t help but remember the night before he left for the summit. He held me like a child, but his energy was relentless, almost desperate. He said he needed to “stock up” for the days he’d be gone. I was exhausted, crying, begging him to stop, but he just kept whispering things in my ear, not slowing down. In a fit of frustration, I bit down hard on his neck. Pain didn’t stop him. It only seemed to fuel him. That night, I genuinely thought I might not survive him. The next morning, Julian stood in front of the mirror, tracing the bruise with his fingertips. He stared at it for a long time. I thought he was annoyed. “I’m sorry,” I said, walking up behind him. “I can cover it with concealer.” “No need,” he replied instinctively. “Leave it. I like it.” Then he seemed to remember who he was talking to. He paused, his expression cooling. “Don’t overthink it. I just mean… it saves me a lot of unnecessary trouble. Works as a deterrent.” My heart sank a little. So, it was just a shield against unwanted advances. For a second, I thought he actually liked the mark I left on him. 2 I shook off the memory and looked back at the phone. In the video, a bold reporter asked the question everyone was dying to know: “Mr. Hayes, are you married?” Usually, Julian ignored personal questions. But this time, he smiled. “Not yet. But… it should be soon.” The reporter gasped. “Wow, congratulations! Can you tell us about your fiancée? What is she like?” Julian looked directly into the camera. “If the proposal goes well, I’ll introduce her to everyone.” My heart skipped a beat. Who was he proposing to? Me? Just then, I heard the maids gossiping in the hallway. “Did you hear? Miss Liang is coming back to the States soon.” The spark of hope in my chest was instantly extinguished. Right. How could it be me? I was the woman who kicked him when he was down. Miss Liang—Elena Liang—was the heiress who extended a hand to pull him out of the mud when everyone else turned their backs. Any sane man would know who to choose. 3 My father and Julian’s father were college roommates. Because we were born on the same day in the same hospital, they jokingly promised we’d get married one day. Years later, the Hayes family empire grew massive in New York. My dad, eager to climb the social ladder, wanted to make that joke a reality. Before I met Julian for the first time, my dad drilled it into me: “Be charming. Make him like you.” I was a bratty kid. “No way. Kissing up to people is for losers.” Then I saw Julian walking toward me. He was pale, delicate, and devastatingly beautiful, like a little prince from a storybook. I changed my mind immediately. Guess I’m a loser then. I ran up to him, eyes sparkling. “Hi! I’m Nina. What’s your name?” Julian looked at me warily and didn’t speak. “My dad said we’re engaged,” I announced. “That means you’re my future husband. And since your last name is Hayes, I’m gonna call you Hubby Hayes!” “Hubby Hayes! Hubby Hayes!” I chanted, jumping around him. Julian froze, a pink flush spreading across his porcelain cheeks. Adults started looking over, amused by the loud little girl and the mortified boy. “Stop yelling!” he whispered, covering my mouth. “I’ll… I’ll tell you. I’m Julian.” He dropped his hand. I grinned. “Hubby Julian, you have a pretty name!” He turned beet red. “You… you’re impossible!” He stormed off. I chased right after him. “Hubby Julian! Wait for me!” … I pestered him for years, all the way until our families officially announced the engagement. But the girl who chased him, who swore she’d marry him… she was also the one who walked into his house after his father died and the vultures stripped his family of their assets. I walked in and broke the engagement. For Julian, who was already drowning, it was the final blow. I’ll never forget that day. When he saw me, his eyes lit up with a fragile hope. And when I said “It’s over,” I watched the light die, replaced by a shattered, hollow despair. After that, he came to my house. He stood outside my gate for hours, in the rain, in the wind. Just wanting to see me. My dad asked, “Do you want to see him?” I swallowed the agonizing lump in my throat. “No.” Dad smiled, satisfied. “That’s my smart girl.” Eventually, Dad got tired of Julian’s persistence. He sent security to drive him away, using the cruelest, most humiliating insults imaginable. It worked. After that day, Julian Hayes vanished from my life. … I thought our paths would never cross again. But karma is real. My dad made bad investments and racked up millions in debt. He jumped off a bridge. My uncle took me in, pretending to care, only to sell me to an underground trafficking ring to pay off his own debts. That’s where Julian found me. He bought me. When he brought me back to his penthouse, he looked down at me with ice in his eyes. “I was in the market for a pet. Don’t think this means I forgive you, or that I still care.” I knew he hated me. So I played the part. The obedient pet. But I heard stories. I heard that Julian, who had just reclaimed his empire and was still fighting for stability, made enemies with the powerful Jiang family just to secure my bid at that auction. I heard that my uncle’s ruin—and the prison sentence that followed—was entirely Julian’s doing. These things… they made me hope. They made me fantasize that maybe, just maybe, he still loved me. … I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. Stop it, Nina. If he loved anyone, it was Elena Liang. The Liang Corp heiress who saved him when I abandoned him. 4 “What are you thinking about?” A deep voice rumbled above me. I looked up to find Julian staring down at me. “Thinking about you,” I answered instinctively. Julian raised an eyebrow. He sat next to me on the sofa and pinched my cheek. “Seducing me?” He smirked. “A few days away and your techniques have improved.” My face heated up. He always did this. When I first moved in, I walked out of the bathroom in full-length flannel pajamas. He stared at me darkly and asked, “Who are you trying to tempt dressed like that?” Another time, I dissolved a Vitamin C tablet for him. He sneered, “Drugging me? I knew you had ulterior motives.” I learned to just shut up. Explaining never worked. 5 Julian was back, which meant my nights belonged to him. He kept me up until the early hours of the morning. My body was exhausted, and my mind was bitter. Men really can separate sex and love, I thought. He’s planning to propose to another woman, but he’s still using me like this. Scumbag. “Focus,” he growled, gripping my chin. “You have the nerve to zone out right now? Nina, you’re getting bold.” “I haven’t even punished you for watching thirst traps earlier.” Turns out, he saw my phone screen. Earlier, to hide the video of him, I refreshed my feed, and the first thing that popped up was a shirtless guy dancing. “It was the algorithm! I’m innocent!” I cried, clinging to his neck. He ignored my pleas and carried me to the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He sat me on his lap, facing the glass. One arm wrapped around my waist, the other forcing my chin up so I had to look at our reflection. He bit my earlobe. “Watch closely. Watch how I own you.” … Afterward, I slept like the dead. I didn’t feel him slip a ring onto my left ring finger while I slept. He examined my hand, whispering to himself, “A little loose. I’ll get it resized tomorrow.” He took the ring back, then pinched my cheek, muttering through gritted teeth, “Nina, if you dare say no when I propose, you’re dead.” He told himself this was punishment. Since I abandoned him so ruthlessly, he would trap me in a marriage, bind me to him for life. Yes. It was just revenge. Definitely not because he couldn’t live without me. Julian lowered his eyes, repeating the lie to himself.

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