Category: English

The wind outside the courthouse was bone-chilling. I stood on the steps, a divorce agreement clutched in my hand. Memories from my past life flooded back—a tide of pure agony. I had knelt right here, begging for three whole hours, while Isabella sat in her car, never even bothering to roll down the window. I cried until I collapsed and a stranger had to take me to the hospital. For two years after that, I continued to grovel, a walking corpse clinging to the wreckage of our marriage, trying to piece it back together. Finally, on our seventh wedding anniversary, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. As the darkness drowned me, my last thought was: Will she regret this? The moment I woke up, reborn, a message glowed on my phone: “Noah. Courthouse, 10 a.m. today. For the divorce.” My hand trembled. Every instinct screamed at me to go back to being the husband who loved her more than life itself. But the memory of death was too vivid. The cold, the hopelessness, the suffocation. And all those nights I had waited like a dog for a single glance from her. Not again. I had to live for myself this time. 1 A black Bentley pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and Isabella stepped out, her long dress trailing, her expression serene. The moment she saw me, her brow furrowed slightly, as if surprised that I had shown up on my own. “Noah.” Her voice was soft but distant. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside.” I took a deep breath. My voice trembled, but I held it steady. “Ms. Vance, I agree to the divorce.” Isabella froze, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it came. She even managed a small, relieved smile. “Noah, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I thought…” “But,” I cut her off, “the assets will have to be re-divided.” The smile on her face hardened. “What do you mean?” “According to marital law, all shared assets are to be split equally.” I fought to keep the tremor out of my voice. The warmth on Isabella’s face froze for a second before returning. “Noah, that’s a very hurtful thing to say. I haven’t treated you poorly all these years. How could you…” I interrupted her again, holding out a file. “This is a list prepared by my lawyer.” Isabella took the document, her eyes scanning it quickly. Her expression changed instantly. “Noah, are you joking?” Her voice was still gentle, but an icy edge had crept in. “I thought you had finally learned to be reasonable. I see now you were just waiting for this.” “I’m just asking for what I deserve.” “What you deserve?” she said, her tone like she was scolding a child. “Noah, what have you done for this family in the last three years? You hide at home all day with that obscure research of yours, spending my money, living in my house, using my resources. I’m willing to give you a million dollars in this divorce. You should be grateful, not trying to carve up my assets.” Her words were daggers. Tears welled in my eyes. She had said the exact same thing in my past life. She called me a parasite. She said I was unworthy of her. She said I had nothing but a pretty face. Back then, I believed her. I truly thought I was worthless. But this time… “Ms. Vance,” I said, taking another deep breath. “You have two months. Otherwise, I’ll see you in court.” With that, I turned and walked away. My legs felt weak, and my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to walk ten meters before I dared to stop, tears streaming silently down my face. It was the first time in my life… I hadn’t given in. 2 Back at home, I collapsed onto the sofa, my entire body shaking. I looked around at the house I had meticulously decorated for three years. Every corner held a piece of my soul. The set of academic models in the study—I had pulled countless all-nighters to build them. Isabella’s only comment had been a dismissive “they’re fine.” The core project proposals for her company—I was the one who stayed up all night researching, analyzing the market, and creating the frameworks for her. Her haute couture gowns in the walk-in closet—I had ironed every single one by hand, ensuring not a single crease was out of place. In my last life, I did these things until the day I died. She never once said, “Thank you for your hard work.” My phone buzzed. It was a message from Isabella: “There’s an important company gala tomorrow night. Be ready in your suit at seven to accompany me.” The old me would have instantly replied, “Of course,” thinking it was a sign she wanted to reconcile. I would have spent the entire day preparing, then stood by her side like a perfect accessory, saying all the right things, smiling the perfect smile. Now, I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling for a full ten minutes. A voice inside me screamed: You can’t say no to her! You’re still her husband… But in the end, I typed out a single line: “Ms. Vance, we are getting a divorce. You should ask your secretary, Ryan.” I hit send, my heart hammering against my ribs. The phone rang almost immediately. I took a deep breath and answered. Isabella’s voice was as gentle as if she were soothing a child. “Are you throwing a tantrum again? I know you’re upset, but tomorrow’s gala is incredibly important. You know when I need you most, don’t you? Ryan is just a secretary; he can’t accompany me to an event like this. Only you can help me.” “I’m not going to the gala.” I bit my lip. I knew this script all too well. Whenever I tried to refuse, she would use this tactic. First, gently affirm my value. Then, imply that only I could help her. Finally, make me feel that if I said no, I was the one at fault. Isabella was silent for a moment, then continued in a helpless tone. “Alright. But Noah, I think we need to talk. You might be acting on impulse, but a divorce needs to be handled rationally. I don’t want this to end up in court. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.” “I am being rational. Probably the most rational I’ve been in my entire life.” “Are you sure?” Isabella chuckled softly. “Noah, do you know what a lawsuit entails? It means our private lives will be exposed. It means you’ll never be able to hold your head up in this circle again.” I tightened my grip on the phone. “Are you threatening me?” A pained sigh. “Noah, you’re really hurting me when you talk like that. Have I been anything but good to you all these years? What have you ever wanted that I haven’t given you? Have you ever once considered my feelings? Are you under too much stress? An old classmate of mine is a psychiatrist; I can make an appointment for you. It’s normal for men to get tense at a certain age. It can affect your mood.” I froze. Isabella always dismissed my legitimate requests as me being emotional, irrational, or having some kind of mental problem. Over time, I had actually started to believe I was sick. “The one who’s sick is you,” I said, enunciating every word. Her voice remained gentle. “Noah, even though our marriage wasn’t happy, I never wanted to hurt you. I’m willing to give you a million dollars in the settlement. That’s enough for you to live on for a very long time. Why do you have to make things so ugly?” Every word was a knife in my heart. Before, hearing this would have made me break down, would have convinced me I was worthless. But now, I suddenly remembered. The project that doubled her company’s market value—I did the core strategy. The product design that won her an industry award—the inspiration came from a suggestion I made offhandedly. The priceless antique collection at her family’s estate—I was the one who authenticated and curated it, piece by piece. I was not a parasite. I was just so in love with her that I had willingly given her all the credit. “Isabella.” My voice was calm. “Two months from now, I’ll see you in court.” I hung up. Then I turned off my phone. 3 The next day, Isabella came to the house. She stood at the door with a gentle smile, holding a bouquet of blue roses and a document folder. “Noah, open the door. Let’s talk.” I watched her through the peephole, not moving. She stood outside for ten minutes, knocking several times, her voice always soft. “Noah, I know you’re in there. I might have spoken a little harshly yesterday, and I apologize. But you have to understand, I just don’t want to see you do something foolish.” I took a deep breath and opened the door. Isabella walked in, placing the roses and the folder on the table. She looked at me, a hint of pity in her eyes. “Noah, you look exhausted. Didn’t you sleep well?” She had said that countless times. Every time I stayed up all night working on a proposal for her, she would ask with the same feigned concern, then immediately turn to her own affairs, never waiting for an answer. “Let’s get to the point,” I said, trying to remain calm. “Alright.” Isabella opened the folder. “I’ve had a new agreement drawn up. You get this house, plus one million in cash. Noah, this is the best offer I can make.” I glanced at the agreement and sneered. “This house is worth two million. You think you can buy me off for a total of three?” “Noah, don’t be greedy,” Isabella frowned. “You know, I barely recognize you lately. You used to be so understanding, so gentle. Now you’ve become so…” I looked at her, at this face I once loved so desperately. Now, it was the face of a stranger. “Isabella, you’re willing to divorce me for your secretary, but you’re not willing to pay a fair price. You asked me what I’ve contributed?” I met her gaze. “Ms. Vance, your ‘Starfall Initiative’ that doubled the company’s value—who did the core strategy for you?” Isabella’s face changed. “The design inspiration for your best-selling products—who provided it?” I continued. “The antique collection at your family’s estate—who authenticated it for you? For every business negotiation you had, who compiled the research? And for every client dinner, who was the one drinking with you until they ended up with bleeding ulcers?” “Noah…” Isabella was silent for a few seconds, then sighed. “Noah, those were things you were supposed to do as my husband.” “Supposed to do?” I laughed. “So my five years of contributions, in your eyes, were just my duty?” “Noah, don’t confuse the issue,” Isabella’s tone sharpened. “You helped me with those things because you were my husband. And I gave you a life of luxury because you were my husband. We’re even.” “Even?” I stared at her. “Ms. Vance, do you have any idea how much profit those projects brought you? Hundreds of millions, not to mention your current standing in the business world. How is that even?” Isabella’s face was livid. “Noah, don’t push it. Those projects were the achievements of my company. What do they have to do with you?” “What if I were to release the initial drafts of those proposals?” I said calmly. “Release the email records, proving that your core projects were, in fact, led by me?” The color drained from Isabella’s face. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Wouldn’t I?” I looked at her. “Ms. Vance, I have nothing left to lose. But you? Your business reputation, your social status, everything you’re so proud of… are you sure you want to risk it all?” Isabella stared at me, her eyes turning dark. After a long silence, she suddenly laughed, a sound laced with mockery. “Noah, how did I never realize you had this in you?” “Because the old me was too in love with you to see anything else,” my voice was flat. “But now, I’m not.” The smile on Isabella’s face froze. She stared at me for a long time, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes. “You really don’t love me anymore?” she asked suddenly, her voice testing the waters. “That’s right,” my voice was firm. “I don’t.” Isabella’s gaze darkened. She turned to leave, tossing one last sentence over her shoulder. “Noah, you’ll regret this.” The door slammed shut. I collapsed onto the sofa, the tears finally breaking free. I wasn’t really that strong. I was just pretending.

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At birth, I made local news for being too handsome. By my first birthday, wealthy families were already proposing marriage pacts. After two girls ended up hospitalized over a fight about me, my parents moved and used cosmetics to conceal my face—finally granting me normalcy. That’s when I first experienced life without the shield of good looks. One day, after being called an “ugly freak” and locked in an abandoned classroom, a girl climbed through the window: Faye. She took my hand and said seriously, “Kian, looks aren’t everything. You are who you are.” My heart skipped. I studied hard and followed her to university. The day I got my acceptance letter, I was ready to confess—but she asked me first: “Kian, will you be my boyfriend?” Joy washed over me. For three years, she cared for me entirely, making me the envy of everyone. Until a party, when Faye had to do the ice bucket challenge with the person next to her: either me or Nolan, the campus heartthrob. She chose me. As ice water soaked my head, my heart froze just the same. 1 A bone-chilling cold shot through me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. I shivered violently. The atmosphere in the private room hit a fever pitch, all thanks to that bucket of ice. Everyone was hooting and hollering. “Faye, you’re a real hero! Nolan is our campus heartthrob, the face of our university! Better to sacrifice your own boyfriend than the handsome guy!” “Yeah, who would want to see Nolan get drenched? If he caught a cold and ended up in the hospital, we wouldn’t see him for days!” “No other guy at this school even comes close.” Nolan just smirked, basking in the adoration like he was born to it. Someone playfully shoved a microphone in Faye’s face, interviewing her like a news reporter. “Miss Dawson, could you tell us what psychological factors led to your decision?” Their eyes were gleaming, hungry for gossip. Faye rolled her eyes and pushed the mic away. “You guys need to chill. I only picked Kian because Nolan has a cold.” With that, she walked over to me, dabbing at my face with a dry towel. I always used the best waterproof makeup, so nothing had smudged. The tan skin, the constellation of freckles across my cheeks, the slightly puffy eyes—it all remained perfectly intact. With my hair plastered to my scalp, I knew I was far from handsome. I could already hear snickers from across the room. A few guys who had never liked me spoke up. “Seriously, Faye, why are you with Kian? There’s not a single thing about you two that matches.” Everyone thought I wasn’t good enough for Faye. I’d heard it a thousand times since we started dating. Usually, Faye’s face would darken, and she would tell them to take it back. Then she’d reassure me not to overthink it, that she didn’t care what they said. But this time, she didn’t say a word. Nolan’s gaze was fixed on her, and I saw Faye’s eyes flicker towards him from the corner of my vision. A bitter, indescribable sourness rose in my chest. I reached for Faye’s hand, but she instinctively slapped it away. I stared at her, stunned. Realizing what she’d done, Faye quickly grabbed my hand again, but her eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. Just then, someone piped up, “Uh oh, I think Nolan’s had too much to drink. Faye, you’re the only one here with a car. Can you give him a ride?” “Sure,” she agreed without a moment’s hesitation. She turned to me. “Kian, Nolan lives in the opposite direction from you. I’ll call you a cab, you can get home on your own, okay?” Before I could answer, others chimed in. “What’s the problem? He’s perfectly safe looking like that.” “Come on, Kian, don’t tell me you can’t find your way home without your girlfriend.” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My chest felt tight, like it was being crushed. I gripped her hand tighter. “Faye, I…” I was about to say I’d go with her to drop Nolan off, but then Nolan let out a pained groan. Faye immediately tore her hand from mine and rushed to his side. I was left standing there, frozen, as the noise of the room swirled around me. “I think Nolan has a fever.” “My bad, my bad. He was already sick, I shouldn’t have pushed him to drink.” “I’ll take him to the hospital!” Faye said, her voice laced with panic. She helped Nolan up and hurried past me, her shoulder slamming into mine so hard I stumbled and fell to the floor. I watched her go, not once looking back, until she was out of sight. 2 After being soaked with ice water and then waiting in the cold wind for a cab, it was no surprise that I woke up with a fever the next day. I called my advisor to get the day off, then I called Faye. The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up. “Faye, I have a fever…” My voice was a hoarse croak. There was a pause on the other end, then a man’s voice answered, laced with an arrogant, triumphant tone. “Faye’s asleep. Should I wake her?” My entire body went cold. It took me a moment to find my voice. “Nolan? Is she at your place…?” He chuckled. “Technically, I’m at her place. I was on an IV until late last night, and my house is too far, so Faye brought me back to her apartment.” He paused, then continued, his voice oozing with a sense of inevitable victory. “You know, Kian, if I wanted to, I could take Faye from you anytime.” “But honestly, competing with you for a woman… it’s not even a challenge.” His words were dripping with pride and confidence, as if to say you’re not even worthy of being my rival. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. “Faye isn’t a toy,” I said, my voice cold. “And she’s not like other girls.” Nolan’s laughter grew louder. “So defensive of her? Here, let me play you something interesting.” He played a recording. Nolan’s voice, slurred with alcohol, came through the speaker. “Faye, you still haven’t answered my question from earlier. Why are you really with Kian Monroe?” “He’s smart and kind. He’s a good person. Why wouldn’t I like him?” A wave of relief washed over me, and a small smile touched my lips. See? Faye was different. But my relief was short-lived. Nolan’s voice continued. “Is that so? Then why did you choose to take me home tonight instead of him?” “Why have you been stealing glances at me all night?” “Faye, what if I told you that if you break up with him, I’ll be with you?” My heart seized. A nervous tension gripped me. Answer him, Faye. Tell him you only love me. Reject him, now… “Would you really?” Faye’s voice trembled, filled with a nervous, almost hopeful excitement. My heart plummeted. The recording ended. Nolan laughed. “Get it now, Kian? Being handsome really does give you all the power.” I hung up the phone. I pulled my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly. I had to admit it. I was scared. The fever made my head spin, making it nearly impossible to think straight. But one memory cut through the haze: Faye, climbing through that classroom window, taking my hand. The girl in the white shirt, her face full of righteous conviction. Her palm was warm, sending a steady stream of strength into me. “Kian, looks aren’t everything. You are who you are.” Those words had changed my life. Before that, I hated myself. My real face brought my family nothing but trouble, and my plain, disguised face brought me nothing but bullies. I had started to wonder if my existence had any meaning at all. It was Faye’s words that made me see myself differently, to focus on my character instead of my appearance. But I forgot that people change. Whether she had changed her mind or not, I had to ask her myself. I took some medicine and slept for a whole day. When I woke up, I saw a long list of missed calls on my phone. Not a single one was from Faye. It used to be that if I went more than an hour without texting her, she’d come running to find me, terrified that something had happened. I let out a bitter laugh. The answer seemed obvious. Pulling myself together, I called back the number that had tried me the most: my academic advisor. She picked up immediately. “Kian, you finally answered! I heard you were sick. About that job hosting the Ivy League professors in three days—you don’t have to worry about it anymore. We’ve found a replacement.” 3 I froze. “Professor, wait! I’m feeling better, I can do it!” Over a month ago, the university announced that a delegation from several Ivy League schools would be visiting. They selected a few students to act as hosts. Thanks to my fluent English and excellent etiquette, I had secured one of the spots. With the academic credit from this event, I would have enough to apply for a study abroad program at my dream university. I had spent at least four hours every day for the past month practicing my presentation. Just a few days ago, my advisor was praising my dedication. Why the sudden change? I rushed to the university to find her, insisting that I was completely recovered and that my illness wouldn’t affect the event. She sighed, then told me the truth. “I know how much effort you’ve put into this, Kian.” “But the Dawson family just donated a new building to the school. Faye specifically requested that Nolan Prescott be added to the hosting team, and our hands were tied…” “What did you say?” I heard my own voice, rough and raw, as if it had been scraped with gravel. My advisor seemed to remember my relationship with Faye, and a flicker of regret crossed her face. “I’m not going to get involved in your personal matters. You should go ask her about it yourself.” I found Faye in a practice room, helping Nolan with his conversational English. Nolan’s English was so bad he hadn’t even passed the basic proficiency test, and his spoken English was a disaster. I remembered hearing that he was short on credits and might have to delay his graduation. Faye was really going all out for him. She looked up at the sound of my footsteps, her eyes widening slightly when she saw me. “Kian, what are you doing here?” “Faye, was it you who took my hosting spot?” A flash of guilt appeared on her face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of justification. “Kian, Nolan will have to repeat a year if he doesn’t get this credit. You’re not short on credits. Giving him this opportunity won’t cost you anything.” “But my study abroad application might get rejected! You know how hard I worked for this!” “Then just apply again next year! I’ll be right here with you, isn’t that enough?” Maybe it was because I’d never spoken to her with such intensity before, but Faye seemed irritated. “Besides, the hosts they picked are all handsome guys and beautiful girls. Don’t you think you’d look out of place standing with them? I’m doing this for your own good, to save you from being mocked again.” I couldn’t believe those words were coming from her mouth. She was the one who used to hold me, comfort me, and tell me over and over not to care what other people thought. And now, she was the one bluntly telling me how she really felt. The mockery of others had never been able to hurt me. But a single sentence from Faye completely shattered me. The kind, sincere girl I once knew… it seemed she was really gone. My eyes burned, and my body trembled with anger. Maybe she had never seen me like this before, because she looked a little scared. She instinctively raised a hand, as if to wipe away a tear I didn’t know was there. But beside her, Nolan let out a sniffle. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken your spot. It’s just… you said you had a fever, so I thought maybe I had a chance.” “It’s just one more year, I can work harder. Faye, give him the spot back.” As he spoke, tears rolled down his cheeks like pearls from a broken string. As expected of the campus heartthrob—even his crying was beautiful. Compared to my hysterical state, it was clear where Faye’s sympathies lay. Her gaze fell on my reddened eyes and the dense freckles on my face, and a flicker of disgust crossed her features. “Kian, when did you become so selfish and cold-hearted?” “Nolan’s family isn’t well-off. Do you know what a burden another year of tuition and living expenses would be? Are you only thinking about yourself?” “I got together with you because I thought you were kind. But look at you now. Is there anything left about you to like?” My fingers curled into tight fists. My voice was exhausted. “Then… let’s break up.” 4 As I spoke those words, Nolan let out a piercing scream. Faye didn’t even spare me a glance. She rushed to his side, swatting away a bug that had landed on him. Nolan shot me a smug look over her shoulder. It was as if he was proving his point. He could take her whenever he wanted. It didn’t matter anymore whether Faye had heard me or not. A woman who could be stolen away by a handsome face was not a woman I wanted. After calming Nolan down, Faye turned around and realized I was gone. She frowned, a flicker of panic in her eyes. She thought she had faintly heard me say something about breaking up. She shook her head. She must have misheard. I had given up on getting the credit from the hosting event, but that evening, I got a call from my advisor. One of the other student hosts had come down with acute gastroenteritis and couldn’t make it. They wanted me to fill in. I accepted. The next morning, I was dressed and waiting at the school gate long before anyone else. The other hosts started to arrive. Nolan’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw me. I ignored him, silently running through my prepared speech in my head. A crowd of students had gathered to watch. Someone shouted from the back. “Why is there something so dirty mixed in with all the handsome people?” “Yeah, one bad apple spoils the bunch!” “I thought the hosts were supposed to be the best students in the school. Shouldn’t that include looks?” “Where does he get the confidence to just stand there?” The loudest insults came from Nolan’s fan club. But as more people joined in, the mood shifted, and soon everyone was looking at me with amusement. I ignored their stares and their whispers. I turned my head and my eyes met Faye’s. She flinched and quickly looked away, as if she was afraid of anyone knowing we were connected. A sudden, wicked impulse took hold of me. I waved at her. “Faye! Don’t I look handsome?” Faye was stunned. The other students turned to look at her. “Hey, beautiful, do you know him?” “Are you that guy’s girlfriend?” “No!” Faye denied it, her voice too loud. The forced smile on my face froze. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, the pain so sharp it was hard to breathe. Suddenly, someone slammed into me hard. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Something thick and warm was poured over my head. Nolan’s voice was full of fake remorse. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose!” I looked up and saw he was apologizing to a girl next to him. “You went to all the trouble of making me this oatmeal, and I couldn’t even hold it steady.” The girl blushed and shook her head. “No, it’s okay! I’ll make it for you again!” “Nolan, you did that on purpose!” I shot to my feet and swung my hand at his face. But Faye rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. She glared at me, furious. “What do you think you’re doing? Nolan just accidentally spilled something on you, and you’re going to hit him?” “He’s the campus heartthrob! He represents the face of our university!” “And what about me? Am I not a student here? Does he get a free pass for everything just because he’s handsome?” “Faye, you were the one who told me that looks don’t define a person!” My eyes were filled with disappointment. I shook her hand off and turned to leave. Faye stood frozen in place. Everyone assumed I had left for good. After all, I was covered in oatmeal, my clothes ruined. Some said I was just ashamed and couldn’t stand to be there any longer, painfully aware that I didn’t belong. The guests were about to arrive, and I was still nowhere to be seen. The advisor was frantic. “What are we going to do with one person missing? Is Kian coming back or not?” “Professor, he intentionally ditched his duties! You should dock his credits!” “This is an important day for our school! He should be disciplined!” “I say we expel him! He’s a disgrace to our university!” Just then, a convoy of cars appeared in the distance, heading for the school gate. Everyone turned excitedly. The advisor was about to step in and take my place when she heard a voice behind her. “Professor, I’m ready.” Hearing my voice, the advisor let out a sigh of relief and turned around. “Kian, you’re just in time. Quick…” The moment she saw me, she gasped. “Who… who are you?” As the advisor’s shocked voice rang out, everyone else turned to look. One by one, as their eyes fell on my face, they froze, completely dumbfounded. Nolan’s face went deathly pale. I spoke calmly. “Professor, it’s me. Kian Monroe.” A hand suddenly gripped my arm. Faye stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re Kian Monroe?!”

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My best friend’s older brother is a cold, brilliant surgeon who looks like a Greek god. I’ve always been terrified of him. One night, while devouring skewers at a BBQ joint, I passed out from blood loss and was rushed to the ER. Turns out, the icy heartthrob was the one performing my hemorrhoidectomy… Chapter 1 I might be the first person in history to be carried away by an ambulance because of hemorrhoids. Here’s how it went down: That night, my chaotic best friend, Zoey, insisted on dragging me out for BBQ. Even though I knew I’d been bleeding for days, I couldn’t resist the siren call of grilled meat. A bunch of us from middle school were tearing through skewers and beer when I excused myself to the restroom. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor. I woke up in the hospital where Zoey’s brother works. Zoey was grinning. “You’re a legend, Sarah. We were all freaking out thinking you were dying, but nope—just a hemorrhoid explosion.” “Three BBQ dinners… and you never speak of this again.” “Deal, Your Majesty!” Later, my parents showed up, and then I was wheeled into the operating room. The surgeon? Dr. Ethan Stone. Zoey’s actual brother. Before surgery, I was clawing at the door frame, wailing. Zoey was happily prying my fingers off. “Go on! My brother is the best, don’t be scared!” “I want a different doctor! Switch doctors! Mom!” The hallway leading to the OR was quiet, making my screeching even more embarrassing. My mom actually helped Zoey pry me loose. “Sarah, stop it. Ethan is the Vice Chief of Proctology. I asked around; nobody is better than him.” “I don’t care! It’s just a hemorrhoid, I don’t need a genius! I want a female doctor!” “Oh, stop being a baby! Did you learn nothing in school? Doctors don’t see gender, only patients…” In the end, I went quietly. Because while I was fighting a losing battle against my mom and Zoey, a tall figure in a white coat stopped in front of us. His dark eyes swept over me calmly. “Let’s go.” That cold voice. That crushing aura… I turned beet red, let go of the door, and followed him into the OR like a scolded puppy. Zoey says I’m scared of her brother. She’s right. Since we were kids, just seeing him makes my heart race. I won’t detail the surgery. It was a humiliating blur of consciousness and fear. I’m traumatized. Now I have a new symptom. Before, seeing him made me nervous. Now, seeing him makes me pale, dizzy, and chilled to the bone. Basically, I’m useless. Even worse was the post-op checkup. After morning rounds, Ethan walked in, pristine in his white coat, snapping on medical gloves. He pulled the curtain. His voice was icy and professional. “Pants down. Lie on your stomach.” Tears welling up, my body obeyed automatically. A rectal exam right after surgery? Kill me now! The pain made me break out in a cold sweat. I instinctively whimpered, “Ethan… Dr. Stone… it hurts, please be gentle.” Holy crap. Was that weak, pathetic voice mine? Why did it sound so… wrong? I felt his hand pause for a second. I buried my face in the pillow, wishing for death. That hemorrhoid surgery became the psychological shadow over my life. Not to mention the agony of the first post-op poop. It made me question my will to live. I howled like a banshee for days. The day I was discharged, my mom went to handle the paperwork. I sat in Ethan’s office, clutching my butt, watching him write. He casually reminded me: “Avoid spicy and greasy food. Rest well. Sitz baths with warm water after bowel movements…” Face burning, I nodded like a bobblehead. “Mhm, mhm, mhm…” After the instructions, the room went silent. He suddenly looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze was dark and unreadable. I shivered, stuttering, “G-got it. I remember everything.” A slow smile curved his lips. “Good. Go home.” Damn it. Why am I such a coward? I had nowhere to vent my frustration. Later, seeing Zoey, I snapped. I put her in a headlock. “Your brother saw everything! This is on you!” Zoey gasped for air. “Don’t shoot the messenger… Sarah, let go!” I squeezed tighter. “Today, sister teaches you a lesson!” Twenty days into my recovery, I was back to my old tricks with Zoey. My “friends” from middle school insisted on celebrating my survival. Since they brought a fruit basket to the hospital, I went. We had hotpot. They ordered a split pot, and I swear on my life I only ate from the non-spicy broth. But that night, my butt was on fire, and there was blood again. Disaster. I panicked. I texted Zoey to ask her brother if it was serious. She panicked too. “You have his WeChat! Ask him yourself! He’s home right now. Voice call him. If he asks, don’t mention the hotpot! Sisters for life, snitches get stitches!” I… Call Ethan? I opened our chat. The last message was from last year—a mass-sent link for a Pinduoduo discount, followed by a very aggressive: “Click it! Don’t make Daddy beg!” Oh god. I forgot I spammed everyone with that. How did Ethan get on that list?! Depressed, I backed out of the chat, planning to drag my mom to the hospital tomorrow. Seconds later, a voice call from Ethan popped up. I shook, hesitated, then answered. My voice trembled. “H-hello, Dr. Stone.” “Hm.” Ethan sounded tired and indifferent. “Zoey said you’re bleeding. What happened?” I froze like a kid caught stealing cookies. “I don’t know. I ate hotpot, but it was clear broth. Nothing spicy.” “Is it a lot of blood?” “Uh, not a lot, but not a little.” “Pain?” “A bit.” “Is anyone home?” “Dad’s on night shift. Just Mom and me.” “Okay. I’ll come over and take a look.” Wait, what? A house call? For my butt? I panicked. “No need! I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow! First thing in the morning!” “That works too. Be at my office by 8 AM.” The call ended. My face fell. God, why?! Can’t I see a different doctor? The next day, I went alone. Mom had work. Zoey was interning at her uncle’s company. Nobody would take time off for me. Their excuse was uniform: “You’re not three. It’s just Zoey’s brother looking at your butt. Stop being dramatic.” I was losing it. Is it “just looking at my butt”?! So there I was, back in Ethan’s office. Pants down. Lying on my stomach. Even though he’d seen it before, it had been twenty days… my face was the color of a pig’s liver. Ethan applied medicine. It was cold. I clenched. Afterward, I pulled my pants up fast. My face was burning. Thankfully, he didn’t look at me. He sat at his desk writing. “Is the constipation bad?” I nodded. “Kind of.” “How often?” “Every three or four days… once it was seven.” He looked up. God, that look again. Dark, deep, soul-piercing. My scalp tingled. “Is… is there a problem?” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “So young, and you treat your body like this.” I defended myself. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve been constipated since I was a kid.” “BBQ, spicy skewers, hotpot… isn’t that all you and Zoey post on your Moments? You think that helps? Hm?” That “Hm?” sent shivers down my spine. I immediately threw Zoey under the bus. “She likes it! She makes me go!” Ethan smirked, looking at me with amusement. I shut up, planning to slink away. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at me while answering. “Yeah, she’s here. Got it. Bye.” I guessed it was Zoey. Sure enough, he said, “Zoey said to wait for her here. She’s coming over.” “Wait where?” “Here.” Awkward. So awkward… Zoey, you traitor, making me wait in your brother’s office! No, I need an escape plan. “Dr. Stone, Zoey takes forever. I’ll go wait outside.” “The medicine needs to set. Stay put.” “Oh.” I sat down obediently. I checked my phone—yep, missed calls from Zoey. I couldn’t even be mad. The silence was suffocating. Just me, Ethan, and a wall of posters about anal health. There was also a doctor profile on the wall. His ID photo. Buzz cut, cold face, sharp brows, deep eyes, high nose, thin lips… Perfect features. The bio read: Ethan Stone, Vice Chief Physician. Graduated from China Medical University, fellowship at Peking University Medical… Specializes in anorectal diseases and pediatrics… Ugh, the elite aura. I knew he was the “perfect child” every parent compared their kids to. Smart, handsome, calm… Zoey said girls have been throwing love letters at him since middle school. But in person, he was even better looking than the photo. Tall, intense, skin so pale it glowed. Combined with that aloof attitude… deadly. I sat there for a while. It was the VIP ward, so nobody disturbed him. I played on my phone, but my mind wandered. He was reading files, occasionally checking the computer. Serious profile. Sharp jawline. A beautiful female doctor walked in. Even the white coat couldn’t hide her figure. She clicked in on heels, smiling, and handed him a Starbucks. She was about to speak when she saw me. Raised an eyebrow. “Patient?” Ethan glanced at me. “Sister.” The woman paused, looking me over. She laughed, a bit flirtatious. “How many sisters do you have? I know Zoey.” Ethan didn’t look up. “Zoey’s friend. Had surgery here recently.” “Oh.” She smiled at me. “Sorry, sis, didn’t know you were here. Didn’t buy one for you.” I shook my head like a bobblehead dog. “It’s okay, I don’t drink coffee.” She turned her attention back to Ethan. Voice soft. “Let’s go see a movie tonight. There’s a good one out. After work?” “No thanks. Tired lately. Not in the mood.” Being handsome has its perks. She wasn’t mad about the rejection. “Okay, next time then. Take care of yourself, don’t work too hard.” They chatted a bit more, and then she left. Didn’t look at me again. Chapter 2 I swear I didn’t want his Starbucks. I was just thirsty. But when I awkwardly asked for a cup of water, he looked at me with scrutiny. “Want coffee?” “No!” I defended. “Just water.” He pushed his own thermos toward me. “Drink this.” What? I’m not Zoey. I can’t just use his cup… I blushed. “Do you have a disposable cup? I can pour some out.” “No. Just drink.” He didn’t look up. Voice calm. Like it was nothing. But my limbs went weak. Zoey said he was a germaphobe. He’s a doctor! Why is he so casual? Take it or leave it? He glanced at me again. I panicked and grabbed the thermos. I sat down, unscrewed the lid, poured water into the cap, and sipped like a bird. I’ll wash the cap later, I thought. “Sarah, Zoey says you draw comics at home since graduation?” Ethan suddenly spoke. I almost choked. Stuttered for a while, face burning. “Just… drawing for fun. People liked it, so I went full-time.” “Hm. That’s good.” His casual approval made me dizzy. Good? Besides Zoey, nobody says that. My mom nags me constantly. “Get a real job with benefits! Why draw cartoons at home?” I started as an assistant in college. It didn’t pay much. It’s a passion industry. You do it because you love it. My mom thinks a degree is a golden ticket. But I struggled in Hangzhou for a while. When my webcomic started getting traction, I moved back home. Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing. Relatives always ask, “Sarah is still mooching off her parents? How much can drawing make? If it’s not $3000 a month, get a job.” Especially my aunt, who compares me to my cousin, Jinny. “Jinny works in real estate! She makes $10k a month! Can drawing compare?” And my aunt, who looks down on everyone because her daughter married rich. Anyway, reality bites. Even when I started making $10k a month this year, my aunt said, “So what? Jinny has insurance and a pension fund. What does Sarah have?” My dad supports me, though. He drives a taxi and brags to everyone. “My daughter is an artist! She bought me a new phone!” They say don’t show off to those closest to you. They’re the most jealous. But my mom wants to save face. My grandparents always favored my uncle and aunt. They gave all their savings to my uncle when his son was born. When my dad had appendicitis, they visited once with a carton of milk. But when my uncle broke his leg, they gave him $5000. No logic to bias. When I was little, I was at my grandma’s with my cousins. Four kids. They boiled three eggs. They realized I was there and said, “Oops, Sarah is here. We only cooked three.” They ate. I watched. When my dad came to pick me up and saw that, he teared up. He carried me out. “Let’s go home. Dad will cook for you.” That night he boiled five eggs. I almost puked eating them all. He said, “Don’t tell Mom.” Poor Dad. The egg incident must have triggered his own childhood trauma. My mom felt the unfairness, but she loved me. She bought me blueberries for my eyes and cacti for radiation. Compared to relatives, my friends like Zoey are great. “Sarah is a famous artist! Get her autograph now before she’s huge!” I was lost in thought and laughed out loud. Then I saw Ethan standing up, leaning against the desk, watching me. Those dark eyes again. Scalp tingling. I stuttered, “W-what time is it?” He smirked. “You have a phone.” I looked down. 10:24. “Why isn’t Zoey here? I’ll wait outside.” I tried to walk past him, acting cool. He blocked my path. “Why are you so afraid of me?” So close. So tall. The pressure… His voice was deep, magnetic, and teasing. I went numb. Didn’t dare look at him. Laughed like an idiot. “Misunderstanding, bro. Not afraid.” “Good. Otherwise, I’d think you did something guilty and were afraid to face me.” He stared straight at me. I blushed to my heels. My brain short-circuited. Just then, the door opened. Zoey, my savior! She wasn’t alone. Chase was with her. Chase was there when the hemorrhoid exploded. According to Zoey, he cried like I was dying. When I was hospitalized, while others brought fruit, he brought roses. He comforted me: “It’s okay, Sarah. Everyone gets hemorrhoids! I won’t look down on you.” I raged. “Why would you look down on me for that?!” He grinned like a fool. “Who knew a fairy like you could get hemorrhoids? I thought you didn’t even poop.” “Anyway, hemorrhoids or not, you’re still perfect to me.” Everyone laughed. I was so mad my butt hurt. “Get… OUT!” Anyway, Chase and I go way back. His dad owns auto shops. He used to be a punk, but now he’s a decent mechanic. Zoey says he loves cars. Our group has six people. We hang out a lot. Chase said, “Let’s grab lunch, then see Fast & Furious 9! It’s awesome!” Zoey and I agreed. Zoey politely asked Ethan, “Bro, wanna eat with us?” “No time. You guys go.” Expected. We ignored it. But then he smirked and dropped a bomb. “Buy tickets for the evening show. I’ll join after work.” WHAT?! Chapter 3 We tried to ditch him, but Zoey scolded us. “Are you human? My brother never wants to see movies! Sarah, he did your surgery! How can you be so ungrateful?” I shivered. So we waited. 8 PM show. Ethan arrived at 7:50. Black pants, white shirt, jacket in hand. Tall, straight, commanding. Even in casual clothes, he stood out. Short hair, dark brows, sharp nose… He was brighter than a celebrity. I saw girls checking him out. We had four seats. Me and Zoey in the middle, Chase next to me, Ethan next to Zoey. But Ethan said he might need to take a call, so he switched with Chase to sit on the aisle. Next to me. I tensed up. I didn’t want Chase to move, but Zoey kept calling him. The movie started. I clutched my popcorn. I couldn’t focus. That pretty doctor asked him to a movie, he said no mood. Then he came with us. And switched seats… I’m not dumb. This felt… targeted? Sure enough, in the dark, I put a popcorn in my mouth. Before I could grab a second, my hand was captured. My brain buzzed. It was Ethan. His long, bony hand grabbed mine and held it tight. His palm was burning hot. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand. Nobody knew. My face went white. I tried to pull back, but he held tighter. I was sweating. I didn’t dare look at him or ask what he was doing. I heard a faint chuckle. Like he was mocking my fear. I wanted to cry… 24 years old, I’ve dated before, but holding hands felt like electrocution. Heart racing, dizzy. The culprit was calm, playing with my fingers, tracing my palm. Sparks everywhere. He kept rubbing, teasing. I watched the movie in terror. Halfway through, he seemed to fall asleep. Hand still holding mine. I peeked. Eyes closed, long lashes. He looked tired. But his grip didn’t loosen. My mind was a mess. What does this mean? Does he like me? Impossible! I barely know him! And Zoey said girls line up for him… Maybe he’s just lonely and messing with me? Did the hemorrhoid surgery spark feelings? The movie ended. Nearly 11 PM. Before the lights came up, I yanked my hand back. He woke up, eyes hazy. Zoey asked, “Sarah, why didn’t you eat any popcorn?” “Ah… focused on the movie.” A scoff from behind. My face burned. “Let’s go home.” I ignored Chase trying to discuss the plot. I need to go home and hide under my duvet. Outside, the wind was cold. Ethan drove. Zoey was going with him. I could have gone with Chase. But Ethan said, “I need to go back to the hospital. Sarah left her meds in the office. And her wound needs redressing.” Meaning, he was taking me to the hospital! To take off my pants again! I wanted to refuse, but Zoey yawned and hopped in Chase’s car. “Chase will take me. Brother, take Sarah home after. Drive safe!” Chase looked at me, wanted to say something, but drove off. “Sarah, we’re going!” I watched them leave in despair. Ethan clicked his key fob, looking at me with amusement. “Get in, Fairy.” “Fairy” was my nickname from school. My WeChat name too. Hearing him say it made me numb. I opened the back door. He grabbed my collar. “Sit in the front.” I felt like a sheep entering the wolf’s den. On the way, I kept my head down. Ethan asked casually, “Is that kid Chase chasing you?” “Ah? No, he’s joking.” “Kids these days joke with roses?” “He never said anything explicit.” “Did he chase you in school?” “We were young, didn’t know anything.” I remembered Zoey saying her brother got love letters since middle school. He’s six years older. When we started middle school, he was in college. Now we’re 24, he’s almost 30. Thirty is prime for men. Handsome, successful, stable. But single at 30 means family pressure. Zoey said he bought an apartment near the hospital to hide from his parents. I felt like he was hunting me because he was bored. I gathered my courage. “Bro, what did you mean in the theater? Rabbits don’t eat grass near their burrow…” He smiled. Scary. The hospital was quiet at night. He took my hand again, led me upstairs to the office. Lights on. He put on gloves. “Table. Pants down.” I clutched my pants. “I think the morning check was enough. No need for more medicine.” “Really, it’s unnecessary…” I finally realized something was wrong. After surgery, he checked me twice a day. Curtain pulled, pants down. Was that really necessary? He laughed, taking off the gloves. “True. Unnecessary. Forget it.” Thunderstruck! My brain exploded. Anger replaced fear. “What do you mean?! Explain! Or I’m calling the police!” “Call the police?” He laughed like it was a joke. A wicked smile. “Then I should call the police too. Since you watched a man shower when you were twelve.” If I had a mirror, I’d look like a ghost. I knew it! He remembers! Zoey and I have been friends forever. Summer of 7th grade. We went to her house. Her parents were always out. Big empty house. We came back from the library. Zoey gave me the key and ran to buy watermelon. I went in. Needed to pee. The bathroom was far. I couldn’t hear anything. I opened the door and saw… A tall man showering. Steam. Muscles. Broad back. Narrow waist. I was twelve! I hadn’t even had sex ed! I froze. He looked up. I screamed internally and ran. Forgot to close the door. That day is burned into my memory, right next to the hemorrhoid surgery. Chapter 4 A twelve-year-old girl knows nothing. I was terrified. But Zoey came back with watermelon. She dragged me to the kitchen. When we came out, Ethan was in the living room. Wet hair, wet eyes. Perfect features. Wearing a white basketball jersey, sitting on the sofa watching TV. Zoey yelled, “Bro, when did you get back?” He was a college freshman on summer break. He glanced at us. His gaze swept over me like nothing happened. He ate watermelon and watched the game. Calm. He could pretend, but I was a kid. I’ve been scared of him since that day. I went to college out of town. Came back last July. The hemorrhoid surgery was the first time I saw him since then. And he held a grudge. My lips trembled. Tears fell. He looked at me deeply. No pity. “You saw everything. We’re even. Why cry?” “Are you a man?! Revenging for that? Pervert!” I cried harder. His eyes darkened. He grabbed my hand. Furious. “That? Kid, you owe me way more than that. “Yes, I’m getting revenge. I’ve never been played by a woman before. You played me like a fiddle. “I gave my heart once, and you played games. I wanted to kill you.” What is he talking about? I was stunned. Suddenly, he grabbed my waist and kissed me. Hard. Dominant. Cold scent filling my nose. My brain blanked. He bit me. Pain… He let go slowly, wiping his lip. Smiled evilly. “Tastes good. I’m less angry now.” I reacted. Punched and kicked him. “Pervert! Scum! I’ll kill you!” He picked me up easily and sat me on the desk. Hand on my thigh. Leaned in close. Eyes dangerous. “Keep fighting, and I’ll take you right here.” He’s crazy. Voice husky. Eyes wild. I cried in terror. Shook my head. “Bro, please! I’m Zoey’s best friend! I… I just had surgery! Not recovered! Next time…” Pah! What did I just say?! Ethan paused. Smiled. The viciousness faded. He lifted me down. Whispered in my ear. “Okay. Next time.” I fled home. I called Zoey, waking her up. “Zoey, did I ever offend your brother?” “Huh? How could you?” “I don’t know either…” I was sobbing. Zoey panicked. “What did he do?” “He… he wanted to kill me.” I couldn’t mention the other stuff. Zoey gasped. “No way… wait. Is it because of that?” “Speak human! What is it?!” “Don’t be mad. Promise?” “Speak!” “Remember in high school I had a boyfriend? My brother found out and made me break up. I faked it, but he found out and scared the boy off. “I hated him. He told me, ‘Look at Sarah, quiet and good. Why can’t you be like her?’ “So I wanted revenge. When we went to the library, I used your phone to add his WeChat and confessed to him.” “WHAT!” Zoey cried. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to prank him…” “What did you say?!” “Brother… I dreamed about you last night. You’re so handsome. Sarah likes you. Want to kiss you.” “…” “Don’t be mad! He didn’t reply! So I deleted him! I didn’t think it mattered!” She deleted him. But she didn’t know he added me back later. I was shocked when I saw the friend request. I was scared, but accepted to be polite. He sent four words: Study hard. I was confused. Replied: Okay. I calmed down. Zoey added, “Also…” “ALSO?!” “Ten BBQ meals! Calm down!” “Speak!” “He didn’t react, so I asked him later. ‘Bro, Sarah says she likes you, wants to be my sister-in-law…’ “He was calm. So I sent him videos. “Videos of me joking calling you ‘Sister-in-law’ and you agreeing. Like when you said ‘Sister-in-law will protect you’… I sent those.” … I’m dead. Zoey framed me. So he thinks I liked him, then got a boyfriend in college and flaunted it? He thinks I played him? “Zoey. Tomorrow morning. Explain everything to him.” “You want me to die?” “Do you want me to die?” We both silenced. “Rather you than me!” We hung up. Next day at noon. Me: “Did you explain?” Zoey: “I’m at his place. Building up courage.” “Now!” Zoey: “I might need to live at your place for a while. I’m scared.” “Did he hit you?” “No.” “Scold you?” “No. He told me not to go home for a bit.” Zoey lived with me for a month. My life went back to normal. Ethan didn’t contact me. I was relieved but confused. Sometimes I woke up from dreams about his angry face.

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I was shopping at the mall when it happened. A sudden, heavy flow soaked right through my jeans, looking like a crime scene. Humiliated, I hid in the mall restroom and texted my boyfriend to buy me tampons and a change of clothes. I waited for three hours. The mall was closing, and he still hadn’t shown up. But his female assistant, Chloe, posted a high-profile update on her Instagram Story: “Craving macarons and he literally bought me 80 of them! Where in the world can you find a boss this amazing?” “Who needs a husband? I’m locking it down with my boss for life!” Cold to the bone, I finally texted my mom. “Mom, set up that date. I’m ready to meet him.” Chapter 1 The mall was closing. The bright lights flickered out one by one, plunging the corridors into darkness. It looked exactly like the future of my relationship with Sean. When I finally walked out of the restroom, stained and messy, I startled the security guard on patrol. “Miss, are you okay? Did someone hurt you? Do you need me to call 911?” I gave a bitter smile and declined his offer. The police handle crimes, not wandering hearts. Sean had taken the car. I had to stand by the curb and wait for an Uber. Several drivers saw the blood on my pants and canceled the ride. Some looked scared; others just didn’t want their seats ruined. It took thirty minutes before a kind female driver finally picked me up. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing while I was in the shower. When I got out, I saw missed calls from my mom and a wall of text messages. “You finally woke up? I told you years ago that Sean was cold-blooded!” “Seven years, Nora! If he wanted to marry you, he would have done it by now. Better late than never. The guy I found for you is leagues above that loser!” Parents really do know best. When you’re young, you think they don’t understand love. When you get older, you realize you didn’t understand life. I typed back: “I was showering. Mom, I’ll listen to you from now on.” Right after I hit send, Sean finally came home. He brought his favorite pet with him—Chloe. “Nora… you… you’re back already? By the time I got to the mall, the doors were locked…” He looked awkward, but quickly held up a massive plastic bag like a trophy. Tampax, Kotex, Always, L., generic brands… Regular, Super, Overnight, Wings, Minis… every type imaginable. “I don’t know anything about feminine products. I was afraid I’d buy the wrong ones, so I asked Chloe to help me choose. That’s why we were a bit late.” What a clumsy lie. But I didn’t feel angry or wronged anymore. There is no grief greater than a heart that has gone cold. “It’s fine. I handled it. I don’t need to trouble you anymore,” I said flatly, avoiding his shifting eyes. He knew he messed up. He pretended to need the bathroom, but before he left, he made sure to praise Chloe. “Chloe knew you weren’t feeling well, so she insisted on coming up to check on you.” “Yeah, Nora. Are you okay? It’s so painful for us girls during that time of the month. Do you want me to make you some hot tea?” Chloe was as good as ever at playing the innocent angel in front of Sean. But the moment the bathroom door clicked shut, the “Pick-me girl” mask fell off. Her face twisted into a look of pure malice. She lowered her voice so only I could hear. “Nora, those tampons should last an old woman like you until menopause, right?” “Haha, just thinking about you waiting there makes me cringe for you.” “A woman left bleeding, dirty and smelly in a mall with no one to care for her… if I were you, I’d just end it all.” “Sean clearly doesn’t love you anymore. Why are you still hanging around? Don’t you have any dignity? Do you have to wait until you’re kicked out? Do you enjoy begging for love that much?” Chloe stepped closer as she spoke. She deliberately leaned her face toward mine. I knew what she was doing. She wanted me to slap her. Then she could cry to Sean and play the victim, driving the wedge deeper between us. In the past, I would have slapped her without hesitation. But now? Would you fight a dog over a piece of crap? I just watched Chloe’s performance with cold eyes. Like watching a fly buzzing around a dumpster. Under my stare, her expression shifted from smug provocation to confusion. Then panic. Then anger. Suddenly, she gritted her teeth, raised her hand, and slapped herself hard across the face. Smack! As the crisp sound echoed, Chloe burst into loud, wailing tears. “Nora! Please don’t!” Chapter 2 Chloe’s scream was like a starter pistol. Sean burst out of the bathroom like a hunting dog. “Chloe! What happened?” Chloe had slapped herself hard; a clear red handprint bloomed on her pale cheek. “Nora… she’s in a bad mood… it’s understandable she took it out on me… I don’t blame her…” Her acting was mediocre, but it was enough for a stupid man. Sean immediately transformed into a white knight, glaring at me furiously. “Nora! What is wrong with you? If you’re mad, take it out on me! What kind of person bullies a young girl?” “Chloe just graduated college! She’s innocent and kind. What gives you the right to abuse her? Apologize now!” He tried to force me to apologize. I didn’t bother speaking. I turned around, went into the guest bedroom, and locked the door. Chloe was crying. Sean was comforting her. I found it noisy, so I put on my noise-canceling headphones. WeChat dinged. A friend request popped up. The note said: “Blind Date.” I accepted the request from the man named Miles. Outside, it went quiet. Sean had taken Chloe home. He didn’t come back that night. In the early morning, a photo of Sean sleeping appeared in the company Slack channel. He was shirtless, sleeping soundly, looking satisfied and exhausted. There are always night owls. Employees immediately started commenting. “The Boss’s Lady makes it official!” “Send red envelopes!” “Congrats on the future baby!” But some old colleagues DM’d me, furious on my behalf. “Nora, that homewrecker is crossing the line!” “This is a declaration of war.” “You need to get a grip on Sean, don’t let that little snake steal your fruit!” When Sean started his company, I was his right hand. I personally hired most of the senior staff. Once the business stabilized, Sean said he didn’t want me working so hard. He said he could support me. He said couples shouldn’t work together; it causes conflicts. So I left the company and became a supportive housewife. Years flew by. Except for the founding members, many new employees didn’t even know I existed. “It’s just rotten fruit. I don’t want it anymore,” I replied, then left the company group chat. I thought I would have insomnia, but I slept surprisingly well. Miles, the blind date, didn’t say anything after I added him. I didn’t care much. I only agreed to the date to give my mom peace of mind. I didn’t want her worrying about my love life anymore. As for love? I had zero expectations. Chapter 3 The next morning, I packed my things to move back to my hometown. I arranged for a moving company to ship my large suitcases. Sean came back around noon. He clearly knew about the photo in the Slack channel and that I had left the group. After all, he was the admin. He looked guilty. “It got too late last night, and Chloe was worried it wasn’t safe for me to drive… nothing happened between us… I slept on the couch…” “The photo was a joke. She’s just a kid, she didn’t mean anything by it.” Sean watched my expression carefully as he spoke. Seeing that I was glued to my phone and ignoring him, he pulled a box of macarons from his bag and placed them on the coffee table. “Isn’t there that trend online about the ‘Strawberry Test’ or whatever? You don’t need to test me. I brought you the macarons. All 8 of them are yours!” I glanced at the box. The production date was yesterday. Chloe couldn’t finish 80 of them, so he brought the leftovers home for me to dispose of? I picked up the box and dropped it into the trash can. “What are you doing? Stop acting crazy, okay? Being a man out there is exhausting!” Sean’s face darkened. I had seen the viral trend. A mom posted that she bought a pack of 8 pastries. Daughter ate 2, son ate 2, husband ate 2. She thought the last 2 were hers, but her husband criticized her for eating them. She felt wronged. She felt unloved. The internet blew up. Women started using food to test their partners. It was like the “If your mom and I fell in the water” question. I always thought it was boring. Women aren’t beggars. Do we need a man’s permission to eat what we want? That’s too pathetic. I never thought to use that to test Sean’s heart. After the tampon incident last night, there was no need to test anything. The truth was ugly. He didn’t love me. “I don’t like sweets.” I went back to my phone. My mom sent me photos of hotels, wedding dresses, and menus to choose from. She was moving too fast. I only just agreed to go home for a date, and she was already planning the wedding. “You really don’t know romance!” “Chloe was so happy when she got the macarons—” Sean realized he slipped up and shut his mouth. His eyes scanned my phone screen and saw the photo of a wedding dress my mom sent. “I think this one suits you better. You’re tall, so a long train works. I even found flower girl twins for you…” Sean’s face looked like he had swallowed a fly. “What wedding?” “Who allowed you to pick dresses? Did you discuss this with me?” “Is your mom forcing marriage again? She’s really losing it! Why is she causing trouble?” Sean’s tone was full of disdain for my mother. He had completely forgotten that when my mom visited us in college, she brought him more food and clothes than she did for me. Sean’s parents divorced and remarried; he was the extra baggage. Aside from wiring money, they ignored him. He was unloved by everyone. So my mom doted on him, giving him the motherly love he lacked. Back then, he always said, “Nora, just for your mom, I have to marry you!” “I’m not just a son-in-law, I’m her son!” We had no money then, no house. But we sat in our rental apartment dreaming of our future. That was the fuel for his startup. Later, we had money. We had the house. The startup succeeded. But marriage became a taboo topic. “Focus on career!” “Too busy!” “Marriage is the tomb of romance!” “We’re still young!” “Just wait a bit…” Sean had infinite excuses. I felt wronged, but I endured it. I felt like I had invested seven years of youth; I couldn’t bear to cut my losses. But I was awake now. If I quit now, seven years were wasted. If I stayed, I was just feeding a wolf. The past is gone. Cutting losses is the smartest move. Sean was still venting. He grabbed my phone, pressed the voice note button, and screamed furiously. “Linda! Stop causing drama, okay?” “We young people have our own plans! You meddling will only cause conflicts!” “We have no plans to marry right now! Stop wasting your energy!” He threw the phone down, huffing. “Nora, your mom is getting senile!” Smack! I slapped Sean hard across the face. His rant stopped abruptly. “You can disrespect me. You cannot disrespect my mother.” I said each word clearly. “The man my mom wants me to marry isn’t you. Get over yourself.” “We are breaking up.” At that exact moment, the Little Green Tea burst through the door, flustered. She was crying. “Sean! You didn’t use protection last night, and I didn’t take the pill!” “I’m too embarrassed to go to the pharmacy alone! What do I do?” “I’m still just a kid! I don’t want to get pregnant!” Chapter 4 Chloe’s crying threw Sean into a panic. “What? Right now isn’t a good time for a baby!” “Thankfully, Plan B works within 72 hours!” He ignored the fact that I just said “break up,” grabbed Chloe’s arm, and rushed downstairs. I looked at the empty house. There was nothing left to miss. I opened the airline app. My hometown was 500 miles away. The next flight was tomorrow night. My mom called. She was furious. “Where is that bastard Sean? Does he speak human language? All that good food I fed him went to a dog!” “Come back right now! I don’t want you near that animal for another second!” I told her I was booking a flight for tomorrow. “Don’t buy a ticket yet. Wait for my text!” My mom hung up in a hurry. Ten minutes later. Miles, the blind date, sent me a message. “Be downstairs in 5 minutes. I’m taking you home.” I was shocked. How did he get here so fast? And how did he know my address? I took my suitcase downstairs. In less than 5 minutes, a black Mercedes SUV pulled up slowly beside me. A man, elegant and sharp, stepped out. “I’m Miles. Your mother sent me.” At the same time, Sean came out of the pharmacy across the street with a smug-looking Chloe. They had bought the pill. He saw me standing face-to-face with Miles. Miles took my suitcase and put it in the trunk. Sean’s face turned iron-gray as he stormed over. “Nora, where are you going? Stop making a scene, okay? I can explain last night. It was just an accident!” I was sick of his noise. I pointed at Miles. “This is my date. He’s taking me home. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.” I got into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Sean exploded. He started pounding on the window. “What date? Nora, get out of the car!” Miles didn’t say a word. He just got in. Vroom! He floored the gas. The SUV shot forward, sending an unprepared Sean tumbling into the dirt. In the rearview mirror, I saw Chloe try to help him up, but Sean shoved her away. He scrambled up to chase our car but tripped and fell again. I closed my eyes. Goodbye to this city. Goodbye, Sean. Without you, my life—whether lonely or wild—will definitely be better.

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After Declan Rhys cheated, I returned the favor. He would publicly make out with his latest fling in tabloids; I would stage a highly suggestive paparazzi shot with a young, impossibly handsome actor. The intimate photos of him and Sally Adler would fly around the dark web; I’d send him a chillingly realistic deepfake of me in a luxury resort suite. Declan barely contained his fury, his eyes simmering with a cruel amusement as he finally walked up to me. “I’m taking Sally out tonight. It’s her birthday. Go on, find someone to celebrate your own birthday with,” he challenged, his voice dangerously low. “If you end up sitting alone tonight, don’t even try to pretend you’re above me.” I meticulously applied a deep crimson lipstick, my hand steady. I met his gaze in the mirror, letting my casual tone be the final insult. “Don’t worry about me. He’s already on his way to pick me up.” That person was him. The eighteen-year-old version of him. The one who put me first, who was pure devotion, the boy who would undoubtedly agree to my ultimate birthday wish. … 1 The sickening thwack of the glass, followed by the sickening sound of my ornate vanity mirror shattering into a spiderweb of cracks, jolted me. Before I could process the shock, Declan’s hand clamped down on my wrist, his grip bruising. “April Hale, are you done? Does getting back at me make you feel this good?!” Maybe it did. After all, Declan found a new woman when he drank, another on a business trip, and yet another when he went on vacation. He was relentlessly, exhaustingly unfaithful. My calm expression seemed to drive him past the breaking point. He gritted his teeth, his jaw ticking. “Who is he?” “Someone you wouldn’t recognize.” The very words he’d used to push me to the edge of sanity, I could now deliver with an icy detachment. A cold, humorless laugh escaped him. “Perfect. You’re really proving you’re capable of anything.” The next second, his strained patience snapped. He roared, “Where did he touch you? Tell me!” Declan began tearing at my cocktail dress, his eyes scanning my body like I was a piece of incriminating evidence. “Here? Was it here?” I wrenched myself free and slapped him across the face, the sound echoing in the silent room. “Declan, you bastard!” It was only when he saw the involuntary, purely physiological tears welling in my eyes that his feverish rage subsided, softening his tone to something darkly paternal. “If you’re only inventing these stories to anger me because I’m missing your birthday, you’re being tragically petty.” He pulled a silk-lined velvet box from his suit pocket. As he did, a small, soiled piece of lace lingerie fluttered to the floor. I was used to it. I’d found used contraceptives under our sheets, and strange, novelty items in the kitchen drawer. This scrap of underwear was minor, a footnote to the rot. A flicker of panic crossed Declan’s face, but he quickly smoothed it over, pretending nothing had happened. “Here. Happy birthday.” He shoved the box at me. “Take it and stop being so dramatic.” I took the box, a tiny, foolish seed of hope—for a normal moment, a normal gift—sprouting in my chest. But when I opened it, nestled against the silk lining was a grotesque, decaying dead rat. The putrid smell hit me instantly. I screamed, dropping the box. “It’s Sally’s idea of a prank,” he said dismissively, not even looking at the box. “I’ll get you a proper diamond later.” Replacing my prenatal vitamins with miscarriage-inducing medication was her “prank.” Tampering with the brakes on my car was her “prank.” The excuse was worn and rotten, much like the gift. I grabbed disinfectant wipes and furiously scrubbed my hands. My voice was dull. “You don’t need to explain. I didn’t say I wanted your gift.” That simple statement seemed to ignite a fresh, uncontrollable blaze of fury in him. He swept his arm across a nearby table, sending expensive porcelain crashing to the floor. “So you expected the other man to buy you one! April Hale, stop this pathetic act! You’re putting on this show just to get me to settle down and come home! Well, dream on!” With that final, explosive declaration, he grabbed a bulk box of contraceptives from a drawer and stormed out, not looking back. The water I had spilled on myself was scalding, but I barely noticed the burning. I stood amidst the wreckage, my heart a heavy, sinking weight. Eighteen-year-old Declan would never have done this. He had given me a huge bouquet of baby’s breath—my favorite—and, like a giddy teenage boy, showed me the tattoo of my name on his collarbone. He had held me close, a desperate, fearful devotion in his eyes. “April, I promise. I’ll grant you any birthday wish you have.” Eventually, I pulled back from the boy’s embrace and looked him dead in the eyes. “My birthday wish is to divorce your future self.” 2 Staring at the stark white divorce papers, the eighteen-year-old Declan’s eyes welled with tears. “Did… did he hurt you?” The boy in front of me couldn’t possibly imagine. Seven years ago, we were sharing a cramped studio apartment, looking at the city lights and dreaming about our future. I witnessed him earn his first serious capital. Later, Declan exploded onto the real estate scene, eventually making it to the top of the Forbes list. In his acceptance speeches, he always thanked the “fierce and gentle April Hale from my youth.” The social circle called us a fairytale couple. When did that love curdle into this poison? It was the night he got blackout drunk and called me from another woman’s bed. I listened, self-destructively, to the sickening sounds all night. I found the courage to ask him, my eyes swollen and raw after three days of him being gone: “You promised you’d never change…” Declan, reeking of cheap perfume, gently embraced me. “I haven’t broken my promise. I still love you.” He paused, then added, “But Savannah, and Tiffany, and Lexi—they’re all waiting for me too. They’re crying just as hard as you.” I naively tried to fight them off, thinking if I just chased away these women, the marriage would be safe. I was delusional. Those women were just the tip of the iceberg. Declan grew steadily worse, sleeping with my college friends, my work colleagues, and even close acquaintances. Before I could confront him about the extent of his betrayal, Declan delivered a chilling warning, his voice disturbingly calm: “If you keep digging, you’ll only make this marriage uglier. Don’t humiliate yourself further.” Then came the clincher. “Your mother’s private medical care is a sensitive subject.” It was an undisguised threat. That was the first time I realized with utter terror that the twenty-five-year-old Declan was entirely disconnected from the boy he used to be. The young Declan wiped the tear from my cheek and, with a trembling hand, signed the divorce papers. He wept, apologizing for the monster he would become seven years later. I blew out the candles on the cake he had brought, and felt a profound, exhausted sense of release. I should have done this a long time ago. On every massive digital billboard in the city, the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY Sally ADLER were scrolling. Paparazzi had captured Declan and Sally kissing in the panoramic window of a waterfront penthouse, then taking her to an exclusive, high-roller auction where a multi-million-dollar drone light show exploded over the city skyline. I looked at the putrid, rotting rat on my floor and offered a dry, self-deprecating smile. The wives in my circle would soon be mocking me. “Can’t even hold onto her own husband. Such a defeat.” “Sally must be his ninety-ninth conquest, right? April is still the undisputed champion of the Cuckold Club.” “Well, her uterus is useless. No babies, no leverage.” … Every word on the screen felt like a fresh sting. When I had the car accident and lost my ability to have children, I had managed to frantically dial Declan’s video phone. The first thing I saw was Declan, draped around my closest friend, impatiently snapping, “Stop checking up on me! All it does is make me sick to look at you!” He hung up, and I lost my chance at a family. He had once picked out the names “Milo” and “Stella” for our future children. I only learned from Sally’s Instagram that those were the names he’d given her two Pomeranians. Declan had been hinting at the end for a long time. That evening, I was packing my suitcase when the door violently crashed inward. Declan stood there, his face thunderous, his eyes bloodshot with rage. “April Hale! You drug Sally and then try to run? You have a death wish!” 3 Before I could react, a sudden, blinding slap across my face made my head swim. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood and sneered, “Is this the new foreplay?” Declan scoffed, then threw a pile of glossy photographs at my face. The pictures showed Sally half-dressed, dancing suggestively with other men. In one shot from the auction, she was on a stage, allowing herself to be publicly bid on. “You knew I was taking Sally to that private auction, and you had the audacity to drug her! You ruined her reputation!” Declan’s veins were bulging on his forehead. I remembered when a client had groped my leg at a business dinner, and Declan had only advised me to “be subtle” for the sake of the deal, never offering an explanation or apology. But Sally merely suffered a public embarrassment, and he was completely unhinged. I pressed my lips together, fighting the bitter burn. “I have better things to do than to orchestrate your mistress’s humiliation.” Just then, Sally rushed out of the car, dissolving into a theatrically shaky, tearful mess. “Mrs. Rhys, the server said you bought me the drinks! I didn’t know you’d hurt me like this! Waaaah… I can’t face anyone now! Just put me out of my misery!” She grabbed my hand and started hitting herself with it. Declan looked at me with pure, unadulterated contempt. “April, what do you have to say for yourself now?” “I’ve spoiled you rotten! First, you fabricate a lover to provoke me, and now you attack Sally. You are truly hopeless!” His cold stare pierced me, leaving me feeling utterly exhausted. “I said I didn’t! I don’t care what games you play outside! I stopped caring a long time ago!” A flicker of surprise crossed Declan’s face. Then, Sally opened her phone and began a live stream, making a show of ripping her clothes. “That’s right! I lied! I falsely accused Mrs. Rhys! I’m the one who’s trashy and wants to sell myself! I’ll start now!” Her performance of faux desperation instantly flustered Declan. He grabbed her arm tightly, his face etched with genuine, sickening concern. “I know it’s not your fault, Sally. Don’t do anything crazy.” The next second, his lethal gaze landed back on me. “You are the one who messed up! Why don’t you stream yourself taking your clothes off? One piece, ten thousand dollars.” I stared up at him, my voice a painful rasp. “You want me to live-stream a striptease?” “Declan Rhys, dream on! I don’t need your dirty money!” Declan let out a cold laugh, pulling out his own phone and performing a quick transaction. Immediately, my mother’s hospital called, their tone frantic. “Mrs. Hale, our system is showing your account is frozen. We can’t delay your mother’s procedure any longer!” 4 The world stopped. I felt a seismic shift under my feet, unable to believe what I had heard. I looked up at Declan’s triumphant, sickeningly smug expression. “How about now? Tell me, do you need my money now?” I was petrified, every breath shuddering out of me. “Declan Rhys, you’re despicable! You’re lower than dirt!” The man who, when he became successful, couldn’t wait to lavish me with the world’s most precious gifts. He used to say, “You’re more valuable than my life. These jewels can’t compare to you.” Now, he was using a bank account to choke the life out of me. With the sound of the hospital’s desperate calls ringing in my ears, I finally broke. I bowed to the ugly reality. Facing Sally’s live camera, I numbly began to unbutton my coat. The live chat was a torrent of vile comments. “She’s gotta be a D-cup! Never looked like this on TV!” “The CEO’s wife? Never thought she’d stoop this low.” “All that high-class pretense, just to put on a show for us average guys in the end!” … The crowd around us—full of local wealthy socialites and their entourage—grew. As I shed the next layer of clothing, a collective gasp went up. My skin felt exposed and cold. The snickering, the pitying, the leering eyes—they pinned me in place like a thousand sharp needles. “That’s what happens to a woman with no spine. Worse than being the mistress.” “A disgrace to the Billionaire Wives’ Club. Pathetic.” … Declan had elevated me to the First Lady of the city’s elite, and now he was degrading me into their worst joke. He stood there, perfectly composed, only the rapid flicker in his eyes betraying his internal strain. Sally eagerly zoomed the camera in, offering an invasive, close-up view of my exposed body. “Look at all the big spenders sending gifts, Mrs. Rhys!” “Don’t worry, Mrs. Rhys, I’ll cash it all out and give it to you. You’ve earned it, darling.” I was trembling violently. Just as the last piece of fabric slipped away, Declan moved with lightning speed, throwing his jacket over my shoulders. “Are you really this cheap, April?!” Then, he sharply leaned in and inhaled. His brow furrowed in instant confusion and distaste. “This scent…” “April, I can’t believe this! You actually went out and found a man?!” It was the first perfume eighteen-year-old Declan had ever bought me with his meager savings. He had completely forgotten. Before I could react, Declan violently ripped his jacket off me, leaving me utterly naked and exposed. “If you want to degrade yourself, fine! I’ll help you!” Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t care how many eyes were on me anymore. Finally, he tossed a bank card at me like a scrap of meat and threw all my clothes into the river. “Good job. Tell your mother I said hello.” He smugly put his arm around Sally and walked away. The next second, my phone rang—it was the hospital with my mother’s death notice. The last of the strength holding me upright instantly evaporated. As I stumbled to my feet, a sudden blow from a blunt object sent me into darkness. I was dragged into a pitch-black space. Men’s cruel laughter surrounded me. “She’s already naked, might as well be ours!” “It’s the CEO’s wife, after all. Gotta see what she tastes like.” I clawed desperate, bloody streaks across the floor, until I lost the strength to fight back… Declan called my phone repeatedly, only to get no answer. The next second, a video link popped up on his screen: “Metro’s Must-Try List” He clicked on it against his better judgment. The explicit, violent images that filled his screen instantly made his eyes turn crimson.

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The night before my grandmother’s heart surgery, I dragged my adoptive father into his study to go over a new medical breakthrough I’d been researching. I did this because, in my past life, when Grandmother’s heart failed, the “real” heiress—my sister, returned to the family—demanded to take over as lead surgeon. She wanted to perform the heart transplant herself. Knowing she had only completed three years of nursing school before dropping out, I refused. She took my refusal as an insult. To prove herself, she impersonated me, scrubbed in, and performed the surgery. The next day, Grandmother died on the table from massive rejection and ruptured vessels. Afterward, she threw herself into our father’s arms, sobbing: “Dad, I never thought Emily would be so jealous of me taking her spot as lead surgeon! She broke hospital protocol and operated on Grandma in the middle of the night just to beat me to it!” Before I could explain, my adoptive mother jumped in, pointing a shaking finger at me. “Emily Thorne, you are a murderer! Just because Grandma trusted Bella more, you sabotaged the surgery and killed her!” My father, blinded by rage and grief, pushed me off the 36th-floor balcony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day the “real” heiress demanded to operate on Grandmother. 1 “Emily, Grandma’s surgery is critical. Just let me do it.” “Your skills are average at best. If something happens to Grandma on the table, can you take responsibility?” Bella clutched Grandma’s arm, looking at me with pure triumph in her eyes. Hearing that familiar, sickly-sweet voice, I realized I had been reborn. I was back to the day before the surgery. The memory of falling from the skyscraper made me shudder. “No. Absolutely not.” Before I could finish, a porcelain teacup smashed against my forehead. “Do you have a say in this?” My adoptive mother, Mrs. Thorne, sat elegantly on the sofa, not even bothering to look at me. “Bella is the true daughter of the Thorne family. She’s devoted to her grandmother. What’s wrong with her wanting to perform the surgery?” “Don’t think just because you’ve been squatting in Bella’s spot for years that you’re actually a Thorne.” Grandma, sitting beside them, was trembling with anger. “Bella has been separated from us since she was a child, yet she still became a fine doctor. Much better than you.” “My own granddaughter wants to save me. What right do you, an outsider, have to speak?” Bella pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. “Emily, everyone knows you only became Chief Resident because of Dad’s donations to the hospital. You don’t have real talent.” “Grandma is sick. I found a new experimental protocol that can save her. Emily, don’t let your jealousy delay Grandma’s treatment.” I looked at the three of them—three generations of women united against me. I had planned to stop Bella from operating. But seeing their faces, I realized they wouldn’t believe a word I said. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. 2 In my past life, Bella had just been found and brought back to the family. When she heard Grandma needed surgery, she volunteered immediately. I had secretly investigated her. She attended nursing school for three years but barely passed due to truancy and fighting. For the sake of the Thorne family reputation—and Grandma’s life—I refused her without hesitation. Bella thought I was gatekeeping the inheritance. She accused me of trying to cut her out. After a huge fight, she took Grandma to the hospital herself. I assumed they would listen to the doctors. I didn’t tell Dad. The next morning, I arrived at the hospital for my shift. At the operating room doors, Dad slapped me across the face. “You ungrateful wretch! Your grandmother is dead! Are you happy now?” Before I could process the shock, Bella threw herself into Dad’s arms. “Dad, I can’t believe Emily was so afraid I’d take her job! She sneaked in last night and operated on Grandma against protocol!” “The surgery failed, and she didn’t even tell us! Grandma didn’t even get to say goodbye!” I couldn’t believe it. Grandma was gone. Grandma never liked me because I was a girl. She made me kneel in the ancestral hall for hours. When Bella returned, Grandma hated me even more. If it weren’t for the fact that Grandma raised Dad single-handedly through poverty, and the surgery was high-risk, I wouldn’t have even taken the case. But Grandma died before the scheduled time. I had been asleep in my apartment all night. I wasn’t even at the hospital. Before I could defend myself, Mom started screaming. “Emily Thorne! Just because your grandmother was strict with you, you murdered her?” “You’re an animal! Is this how you repay us for raising you?” Dad’s eyes bulged with rage. He lunged at me, his hands closing around my throat. I couldn’t breathe. The world went black. The next thing I knew, I was falling. Pushed from the balcony of the hospital’s VIP suite on the 36th floor. After I died, I learned the truth. Bella was terrified my surgery would succeed, cementing my place in the family. She convinced Mom and Grandma to let her operate early. When she botched it, she framed me. Dad, unable to handle the grief, killed me. He went to prison. Bella and Mom inherited everything. And the reason Bella was so desperate? She wasn’t the real heiress either. She feared exposure. So she engineered a tragedy to remove both me and the old woman who might figure it out. Not a single good person in this family. This time, I will make them pay in blood. 3 I took a deep breath, channeling my professional ethics for one last attempt. “Bella has zero surgical experience. She’s lying.” “Grandma, with the proper procedure, you could live another three years.” Grandma sneered. “With your half-assed skills? I’d rather die than let you cut me open. Just you wait.” With that, the three of them left for the hospital. It was getting late. They were afraid Dad would come home and stop them, so they were going to do the surgery tonight. Watching their retreating figures, a cold plan formed in my mind. If Bella wants to impersonate me, fine. I’ll stay with Dad all night. Let’s see how Bella explains her way out of that. I turned and went upstairs, grabbing a stack of medical files, and headed to Dad’s study. Dad and Grandma were close. The night before her surgery, he wouldn’t be sleeping. Seeing me, his face darkened. “Why aren’t you asleep? Tomorrow is the surgery. If you mess up because you’re tired, I’ll kill you.” I flinched, acting scared, and held out the file. “Dad, the hospital just sent over Grandma’s latest labs. I thought you should see them.” Dad’s expression softened slightly. “Dad, the reports are excellent. Grandma is strong. After the surgery, she could be home in a week.” “We can all take care of her together. She’ll be so happy.” Dad couldn’t hide his relief. Tears welled up in his eyes. He grabbed my shoulders. “Good. That’s good. Your grandma suffered so much raising me. If you cure her, you’re the hero of this family.” He pulled me into the study. “Tell me everything. Go through the data with me.” I hid a smile. Exactly. The happier he is now, the more devastating the crash will be tomorrow. Nothing fuels rage like hope destroyed. Bella, you wanted to play doctor? I hope you’re ready for the malpractice suit. Dad kept me there for hours. He asked about every number, every potential complication. He held my hand, his voice thick with emotion. “Emily, you’re a good daughter. If this surgery goes well, I won’t mistreat you.” “You and Bella will be equal. I’ll give you half the company shares.” I shook my head shyly. “Dad, saving Grandma is reward enough.” “Besides, Bella just came back. She needs to feel secure. She’s your real daughter.” Dad looked thoughtful but didn’t argue. “Time to go,” I said, checking the clock. “We should head to the hospital. I need to prep.” Dad nodded eagerly and called the driver. We arrived at the hospital. I changed into my scrubs. As I walked toward the VIP ward, a figure lunged at me. “You bitch! You killed Grandma!” 4 It was a busy morning at the hospital. Patients and staff gathered around the noise. Bella saw the crowd and her eyes lit up with malicious glee. She pointed a shaking finger at me, tears streaming down her face. “Emily! I knew you were jealous that Mom and Dad found me, their real daughter! But to take it out on Grandma?” “Grandma trusted you! Just because I suggested a better surgical plan, you got scared I’d overshadow you! You operated on her in secret and killed her!” Bella wailed, her performance Oscar-worthy. The crowd began to whisper. “She looks like a doctor… she killed her own grandmother?” “Rich family drama. Who knows the truth?” Just then, Dad pushed through the crowd. “What is going on here?” Bella threw herself into his arms. “Dad! Emily killed Grandma! She was afraid I’d take her position as Chief Resident, so she broke protocol and operated last night!” “It failed! She didn’t tell anyone! Grandma died alone! She wanted to see you, Dad!” “Grandma was crying for you at the end! Emily is a monster!” Dad froze. His face went gray. He started shaking. “Impossible. Mom was fine yesterday. She was stable.” “Bella, stop talking nonsense! Don’t curse your grandmother!” At that moment, Mom wheeled a gurney out of the operating room. “Husband! Come look! Mom… she died so painfully.” “Bella told me everything. She found a new cure, but Emily was jealous. She operated early to sabotage Bella.” “If she hadn’t touched Mom, Bella could have saved her! Mom died of massive hemorrhaging!” Mom pulled back the white sheet. Grandma’s face was grey and stiff. Dad’s eyes turned red. He stumbled forward, hands trembling as he pulled the sheet further down. “Mom? Mom, wake up. I brought Emily. She said you’d live to be a hundred.” Then he saw it. The chest cavity was a mess of blood and sutures. Amateur work. Dad’s fists clenched until the knuckles cracked. Bella, seeing her chance, added fuel to the fire. “Dad, it was Emily! I told her about my plan, and she screamed at me.” “She was terrified I’d cure Grandma. She sneaked in here last night.” “Grandma died because her veins burst. That doesn’t happen in a normal surgery! Emily did it on purpose!” Bella looked at me, a smirk playing on her lips. She thought I was dead. The next second, Dad’s hands were around her throat.

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In the year my social anxiety was at its peak, I played mute in the bed of Julian Blackwood, the billionaire heir of New York. No matter how hard he worked, I just gritted my teeth and didn’t make a sound. Until his “one that got away” was returning to the country, and he wired me a $30 million severance package. Overwhelmed with excitement, I blurted out: “Thank you, boss! You’re so generous!” I covered my mouth guiltily, while the man laughed in disbelief. “My little mute, don’t tell me I just pounded a medical miracle out of you?” 1 Being a mute sugar baby had its perks. No need for flattery off the bed. No need to praise the sugar daddy in bed. The only downside was— I couldn’t curse when I was desperate. Like right now. Julian noticed I was zoning out. His hands gripped my waist. He flipped me over roughly. Gnawing and biting. Ferocious, as if he wanted to tear my flesh off and swallow it whole. Ahhh, you dog! I cursed wildly in my heart. But on the surface, I was pitifully weak. Eyes red, tears falling plip-plop. Finding leverage in the shaking. Hugging the man’s neck. Rubbing my cheek against his, begging for mercy. Based on experience. As long as I put on this expression. Julian would end the battle quickly. But tonight, he seemed possessed. He pulled out one ultra-thin condom after another. From the bed to the bathroom to the sofa. Making a fuss until midnight. Only then did he carry me back to bed, satisfied. I was exhausted. But thinking about what was coming next. Sleepiness vanished instantly. This afternoon, one of Julian’s friends visited. The study door wasn’t closed tight. Whispers drifted out. “Gigi is coming back tomorrow. Will you send a car or pick her up yourself?” “Is ‘Gigi’ a name you’re allowed to call her?” Julian’s voice was cold. The man quickly corrected himself. “Okay, okay, I’m not worthy. That’s your exclusive nickname…” Though begging for mercy, it was mostly teasing. Everyone in the circle knew Julian had a “white moonlight”—the one that got away—whom he couldn’t forget. She was well-protected by Julian. People only knew of her existence. Didn’t know her name, or what she looked like. No one knew why they weren’t together. Once, when I was helping Julian organize his study. I saw a yellowed old photo. The girl wore a hat, side profile to the camera. The only visible half-face. Resembled me by eighty percent. The memory of meeting Julian for the first time flashed through my mind. I was playing on my phone by the roadside. A car stopped in front of me. Without looking, I thought it was my Uber. Opened the door and sat in. When you’re out, you give yourself your own identity. As a socially anxious person, to avoid small talk with drivers. Every time I got in a car, I’d pull out a prepared scrolling screen on my phone. [I am mute, please do not talk to me.] The moment I shoved the phone out. I realized the driver was a cold, noble, handsome man. So handsome that even if he drove for Uber. His aura made the car look like a luxury vehicle I couldn’t afford. He looked at my phone screen again and again. Stunned for a long time, before asking hoarsely where I was going. … Seeing the photo, I realized. Julian’s loss of composure back then. Wasn’t because I got in the wrong car. He didn’t kick me out on the spot. Wasn’t because of my fake mute identity. But because I looked like his “white moonlight.” The office was silent for a moment, then voices rose again. “What about the one at home?” “Timid, and a mute. Probably can’t be seen in public…” I didn’t listen further. Sensibly turned and left. If I didn’t leave, I wouldn’t be able to control my emotions. And laugh out loud on the spot. Three years! Three whole years! Played mute for three years! Finally endured until the breakup! So happy I couldn’t sleep at all. I turned my back to Julian. Unlocked my phone, clicked into the “Sugar Canary Support Group.” I was pulled in by an enthusiastic girl at a dinner party I attended with Julian. The ultimate goal of the group members was to get a sky-high breakup fee. Financial freedom, lying flat for retirement. I couldn’t help sharing in the group. [Julian’s white moonlight is coming back soon!] As soon as the message went out, the night owls exploded. [Ahhh, congrats Lily!] [Pick her up, pick her up! Heard my sugar daddy’s white moonlight is studying in Germany…] [Envious of you sisters, mine doesn’t have a white moonlight (lifeless version)] After a wave of envy, Sarah @ me curiously. [Mr. Blackwood is so rich and generous to you, the breakup fee must be huge!] Julian had always been generous to me. Fifty thousand dollars a month for pocket money. Sending bags and jewelry every few days. Occasionally giving luxury cars and houses on a whim. I didn’t take the cars or houses. After all, a poor person can’t afford to maintain a luxury car! Can’t afford the property management fees for a mansion! Hard to take away, selling requires an agent… Just thinking about it made a socially anxious person collapse. So the only hope for getting rich was Julian’s breakup fee. A few million? Or tens of millions? The more I thought, the more excited I got, twisting like a pretzel in bed. The next second, I was dragged back into the man’s arms. “Not sleepy?” The hot body pressed up again. I was scared and used my hands and feet to push him away. Put my hands together under my face. Signaling I’d sleep immediately! “Tomorrow I’m going to the airport to pick up someone very important to me.” I snapped open the eyes I just closed. Julian asked casually: “Do you… want to come along?” I was dumbfounded. Who? Me? Asking me if I want to go? The substitute picking up the white moonlight. Are you planning to anger the white moonlight to death on the spot? I shook my head violently. Julian looked at me intently. “Alright… you’re timid. See her when you want to.” Julian always indulged me. When we first got together, he mentioned arranging a job for me. After I refused, he never brought it up again. As a socially anxious shut-in. This life of not having to go out to work. Being fed and clothed. I actually was a bit reluctant to leave. Emotions uncontrollably dipped low. At this moment, the phone vibrated. It was a text notification of a bank transfer. “I probably won’t be back tomorrow night. Might not have time to accompany you for the next two days.” “Take this money, buy whatever you like…” I didn’t pay attention to Julian. Staring at the phone screen with glowing eyes. One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand, hundred thousand, million, ten million… Rubbed my eyes. Counted again and again. It really was eight figures! Julian gave a breakup fee of thirty million! Thirty million! Poor person suddenly rich. Money rushed to my head. In excitement, I blurted out: “Thank you boss! Boss is generous!” “…” Eyes met. The atmosphere instantly solidified. Doomed! Overjoyed and forgot I was a mute! Just how can a person be so polite. Realizing what stupid thing I did. I covered my mouth guiltily. Waist softened, body slid down. Buried myself in the blanket. The next instant, I was lifted up by the scruff of my neck by the man. “Little mute.” The little girl he pampered in his heart for three years suddenly wasn’t mute. Julian was practically laughed out of anger. “Don’t tell me, I just pounded a medical miracle out of you?” Haha. This cold joke wasn’t funny at all. Nowhere to hide. To block the burning gaze scanning my body. I had to cover my face tightly with my hands. “Little mute, speak.” I shook my head, voice muffled. “Mutes can’t speak.” “…” Julian pinched the bridge of his nose. Looking at the little girl in front of him, face red. Wishing she could hide, he felt helpless. “Don’t you have anything to say?” I bit my lip, a bit lost. Yes, I pretended to be mute and deceived him. I don’t defend myself. And the breakup fee has already arrived. What else is there to say? I have nothing to say! But obviously, I had to say something now. Change of thought. Think about what Julian wants to hear, loves to hear. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration. “Brother…” Julian’s breath hitched. As a cultured person. I desperately recalled the past readings. Those indescribable smut novels. Picking and choosing, finally found a sentence I could say. “Brother is so big… so great, I like it so much…” I praised stutteringly. Uneasily moved the two fingers covering my eyes. Glanced at Julian’s expression. Eyebrows raised, corners of the mouth not tight. Seemed not angry? Pretending to be mute to escape for so long, finally couldn’t hide. Luckily tonight was the last night being a canary. I racked my brains, searching all inventory in my head. “Brother is so amazing tonight, fierce like you took medicine.” Julian’s face instantly blackened. “What did you say? Say it again?” I swallowed. Was something wrong with that? Maybe he didn’t like being called Brother? Right, Julian was older after all. Couldn’t appreciate the “Oppa/Brother” sentiment. Heart beating like a drum. I summoned my courage and repeated: “Daddy is so amazing tonight…” The rest of the words were unspoken. Swallowed by the sticky entanglement. The man grabbed my hands that didn’t know where to put. Going lower and lower. Julian’s dark eyes glowed green in the dim wall light. “Little mute, call me that again.” … Dawn was breaking. The man was so excited as if he opened the door to a new world. I buried my wet head in the pillow. Thinking dizzily. Luckily I was wise before, pretended to be mute for three years. Otherwise, I would definitely die in bed! 2 Woke up again in the afternoon. Body sore all over. Throat hoarse from shouting all night, couldn’t speak. Now truly mute. Dragged legs like prosthetics downstairs. Aunt Wang saw me. Nodded greeting, turned into the kitchen to bring warm porridge to the table. Did all this, then like a house elf. Quietly disappeared. Julian knew I didn’t like contact with strangers. So he instructed from the start. Everyone entering and leaving the house must lower their presence. Very friendly to social phobia. The more I thought, the more I felt Julian was actually quite good. Rich and handsome, detailed where he should be. Rough where he shouldn’t be detailed. The only flaw was. There was another woman in his heart. “Sigh…” I was melancholic for three seconds. Hand inadvertently clicked open the thirty million transfer record. Seems, it appears… Not that much love anymore huh. My heart is too small, only holds money. As for Julian? Forget it, seeing as he’s a good person. Let’s help him out! Thinking this. I lay back on the bed with peace of mind. Opened a novel from the shelf. Chapter One: The White Moonlight Returns. Yes, need this. Study study. Half an hour later. I was pissed off by the male and female leads who didn’t communicate. Exited the novel expressionlessly. Opened WeChat, sent a cat peeking emoji to Julian. Julian replied instantly. “Awake? Aunt Wang kept the porridge warm for you, eat something good tonight, don’t be greedy.” “Still hurt? Better?” Ahhhhhhhh! Capable men ask if you’re tired. Super capable men ask if it hurts, if it’s better. I buried myself in the blanket, kicking my legs. After a long while, replied coldly. “Mm.” Julian didn’t reply instantly again. Probably busy. I took the opportunity to share collected articles. Don’t Miss the Her Beside You. Men’s Words Are Not As Good As Direct Action. Thirty Tips for Wooing Girls: Giving What They Like. … Sent nearly ten articles, then clicked open a game with peace of mind. Played for over two hours. Checked messages again, realized Julian had replied long ago. “Received.” What does “Received” mean? Work message sent to the wrong person? The next second received a call from Julian’s assistant. Confused, went downstairs to open the door. The other party took out a black card and handed it to me. “Miss Lily, this is the supplementary card Mr. Blackwood asked me to bring you.” My eyes widened like fried eggs. “For… for me?” Mr. Hayes’s always tight, robot-like expression collapsed in this instant. “Miss Lily, aren’t… aren’t you mute?” Staring at each other. I seemed, to have not told him the truth. Look at this mess. Burned the elite’s CPU. After listening to the explanation, Mr. Hayes pushed his glasses. Brain started running again. “Sorry, I was inexperienced.” I pursed my lips, changing the topic extremely embarrassed. “Heard Mr. Blackwood is going to pick up someone important at the airport this afternoon?” Mr. Hayes nodded. “Yes, Miss Lily, are you going too?” Substitute picking up the white moonlight. Are you straight men crazy! I laughed awkwardly: “That’s not appropriate, is it?” Mr. Hayes thought of something. Corrected: “It is a bit sudden, better be mentally prepared before meeting.” What’s going on… Can’t this white moonlight just not be met? I immediately skirted around this topic. “Julian is so busy, did you help him prepare flowers, gifts or something for the pickup, a welcome dinner tonight?” “Miss Lily don’t worry about this, Mr. Blackwood arranged it last month.” Arranged last month… Haha! So much importance! I looked down at the black card in my hand. Couldn’t describe the mood. A bit sour, a bit bitter. After all, together for three years. Impossible to have absolutely no emotional fluctuation. To prevent myself from having messy thoughts. After saying goodbye to Mr. Hayes, I nestled back in bed to play games. Played games until early morning. Played until eyes were sore, head dizzy. Threw the phone. Passed out directly. Half awake half asleep, heard the door open. Eyes drooping. Hazily saw in the dim light, the man’s bare back. Back muscles thick and developed like a mountain. Lean narrow waist, back groove going down cleanly. Ah, dreaming of Julian too? I spat on myself hatefully. Turned over, continued sleeping. Haven’t slept deeply yet. Cool lips landed on my forehead. Moved to eyelids, nose tip, finally landed on red swollen lips. “Mm…” I was kissed a bit dazedly. Woke up with a start when Julian scooped my legs. Bounced up from the bed instantly. Turns out wasn’t dreaming just now! “You… why are you back!” Julian just came out of the bathroom, only wearing a white towel. Dim wall light shining on white skin. Eight pack abs openly seducing me. Whether front or back. I could only think of one word to describe this man. —Killshot! Licked lips, suddenly thirsty. “Can’t come back?” Julian checked the time, explained: “Worked a bit late, luckily things are handled, don’t need to rush to the company tomorrow.” I was a bit confused, “Overtime? Didn’t you push everything to pick up the plane?” “Hayes told you?” Julian spread his hands helplessly. “She changed flights without telling me.” “I waited at the airport for three hours, only to know she didn’t board.” “Probably still angry, purposely torturing me!” I clicked my tongue listening. This white moonlight sounds a bit hard to coax? But thinking about it makes sense. If easy to coax, would have been together long ago. What business would I, the substitute, have. Julian finished, waved at me. “Still swollen? Come here let me see.” If before, although shy I’d bury my head. Would still obediently go over. But now… “Did you see the message I sent you on WeChat?” Julian nodded, “That card has no limit, swipe as you please.” “Not enough to give what she likes?” Damn, seduced again. I moved my eyes away with difficulty. “Men who don’t love themselves are like rotten cabbage.” “…?” Julian obviously didn’t understand what I was saying. Patted the spot next to him. Signaling me to sit and talk. I looked warily. Confirmed the man’s eyes were very normal. Even a bit of sage mode flavor. Only then did I dawdle over to sit, teaching earnestly. “The past is the past, now is now.” “No matter what gap, what misunderstanding exists.” “If two people want to be together well, first is to cut off relationships that shouldn’t exist.” “Then give her a rightful identity to stand by your side, give her ample security.” Julian was thoughtful. “Then your suggestion is?” To prevent Julian and the white moonlight from dragging things out. Misunderstanding for hundreds of chapters. I decided to fast forward to the finale directly. “Propose!” “Since you love each other, my suggestion is to get married directly!”

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1 A sudden fever at age five left me with cerebral palsy. My parents, terrified I’d have no one after they were gone, had another child at forty‑five: my sister, Lena. She was bright and innocent. At five, she pointed at my spasming arm and asked our mother, “If Willow never gets better, do I have to take care of her forever?” The question hung cruelly in the air. Mom had no answer—she just held us and cried. Lena was obedient; she never asked again. Then, when she turned eighteen, I found out she was dating someone. With slurred, halting words, I scolded her: only studying hard could give her a future. She stared at me—and shattered. “What’s the point of studying? I’ll still be stuck taking care of you, a cripple, my whole life!” “It’s all your fault! Why don’t you just die? Why did Mom and Dad bring me here just to suffer?” But no one could answer her. Mom and Dad were gone. And soon, I would be too. … The door slammed shut with a deafening bang. I sat in my wheelchair, my spasming limbs so uncooperative I couldn’t even strike myself in frustration. I turned to look at the two black-and-white portraits on the wall, and tears streamed down my face. “I want to ask, too,” I whispered. “Why did you leave a useless burden like me to ruin my sister’s life?” My existence had dragged everyone down. My parents looked a decade older than their peers. Even knowing there was no chance of a cure, they traveled everywhere, seeking any doctor, any treatment. They died for me, killed in a car crash on their way to yet another one of those appointments. Ever since Lena was old enough to understand, my parents forced her to learn the body’s pressure points. For ten years, day in and day out, she massaged my limbs. Her fingers, which should have been soft and slender, were misshapen from the work. I wiped my tears and pushed my wheelchair toward her room with painstaking effort. “Lena, it’s my fault.” “I just… I just think you’re still young. I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.” I forced the words out, one by one, trying to make them as clear as I could. “I’m your sister. I would never hurt you.” Silence from within the room. She was always a child quick to laugh and cry, always so polite. When she was eight, I accidentally broke her favorite mug. She cried herself to sleep, murmuring “I hate my sister” in her dreams. But the next morning, when I called her name, she still answered, her lip trembling. I was used to apologizing first, and she was used to forgiving. It was our unspoken ritual for making peace. But today, she didn’t answer. The door was locked from the inside, and I had no way of forcing it open. Panic seized me. Sobbing, I called our neighbor for help. He knew about our family’s situation. He came rushing in with an axe and broke down the door. The room was empty. The window was open, a rope of knotted curtains and bedsheets dangling outside. Lena was gone. She had left me only a letter. 【Every moment in this house, I feel like I’m suffocating.】 【Willow, because you have cerebral palsy, for fifteen years, I’ve had to give way to you in everything.】 【Mom and Dad died because of you. They left you most of their assets, and all they left me was an order to take care of you.】 【But I have my own life to live! I will not sacrifice myself for a cripple!】 【I’m leaving. Don’t look for me. Good luck.】 My vision blurred. Every word on the page felt like a razor blade, slicing my heart to ribbons. Our neighbor, Mark, was still standing behind me. He saw the letter and sighed heavily. “Willow, Lena’s young. Don’t be too hard on her.” “Let me try talking to her.” He called my sister’s phone. She picked up almost immediately, her tone resolute. “Mark, I know why you’re calling.” “Please tell Willow for me that the money Mom and Dad left is enough for me to finish school. I don’t want to see her ever again!” Before Mark could say another word, she hung up. He looked at me, helpless, wanting to offer some comfort. I shook my head and managed a smile. “I’m okay. But… could I be alone for a little while?” Silence returned to the house. It had been this quiet ever since Mom and Dad died. I thought I was used to it. But today, for the first time, I felt a bone-deep cold. It took me a moment to compose myself before I wheeled myself into Lena’s bedroom. With all the strength I could muster, I steadied my hands, pulled the knotted sheets back inside, and smoothed them over the bed. The curtains, however, were beyond my ability to fix. My life was filled with moments like this, moments of complete and utter helplessness. Suddenly, I felt disgusted with myself. A person who couldn’t even button her own shirt—why should she be alive? Before, I lived because my parents didn’t want me to die. But now, they were gone. Why was I still alive? I should die. I should give Lena her freedom. With that thought, a strange lightness filled me. I saw the pen and paper Lena had used. I picked them up. My left hand held my right steady as I gripped the pen and scrawled a single, crooked line of words. I laid out the bank cards, the property deeds, and the insurance policies in a neat stack. Finally, I put on my coat and wheeled myself out of the house. Snow fell gently, blanketing me in white. As my body grew colder and colder, I remembered. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, a time for families to be together. Lena, I’m going to find Mom and Dad now. My dearest sister, I hope you find your freedom. 2 They say there are no souls after death. But somehow, I floated free from the body that had been my prison for nearly twenty years. Suspended in the air, I looked down at myself, half-buried in the snow. My face was a ghostly white, my limbs twisted at unnatural angles. It was ugly. Pitiful. I hated the sight of myself. How could I expect my sister not to? I tried to turn away, but my consciousness was yanked back. The next thing I knew, I saw Lena. She was standing in the snow with a boy, her eyes as red as a rabbit’s. The boy frowned, barely suppressing his impatience. “Lena, can we please not talk about your sister when we’re on a date?” “You’re always crying over her. It breaks my heart to see you like this.” He said his heart was breaking, but he didn’t lift a hand to wipe away her tears. Anger flared in me. I strode towards them. “Lena, I’m not your burden anymore! Go home now!” “Stop seeing him!” But my words were destined to go unheard. Lena wiped her own tears and forced a weak smile. “You’re right. Since I’ve decided to leave, I shouldn’t think about… her… anymore.” She was so resolute. Right there, she blocked all my contact information. I trembled with rage, pointing a finger at the boy’s nose and screaming every curse I could think of. It was the first time since I was five that I’d spoken so fluently, so viciously. But we were separated by death. My words were lighter than falling leaves. Someone, please, just take this foolish little girl home. Perhaps my anger was so strong it summoned her. My aunt appeared, her face a storm cloud. She forcefully broke the hand-hold between Lena and the boy. With her hands on her hips, she scolded, “Lena, how old are you?” “How long has it been since your parents died?” “Come on. We’re going home. I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget!” My aunt hadn’t liked me much since my diagnosis. But now, she was the only one who could get through to Lena. Seeing my sister’s stubborn expression, she sighed. “Come to my house.” Lena’s stiff posture softened. She waved goodbye to the boy and turned away, completely missing the look of extreme irritation and darkness that flashed in his eyes. I saw it, and my heart lurched. But before I could get a better look, I was pulled along, following my sister. My aunt held Lena’s hand in a death grip. Lena walked in silence. It wasn’t until they reached a quiet corner that my aunt finally spoke. “What about Willow?” Lena’s eyes instantly turned red again, her emotions erupting. “What about her? How should I know?” “She was a burden on Mom and Dad for years, and then they died because of her!” “Aunt Carol, I hate her! I hate her so much!” The air grew tense. My aunt gritted her teeth, every word trembling with suppressed emotion. “I hate her, too.” “She dragged down my only sister, turned her into a shell of a person.” “But she’s my sister’s child, and I…” The mention of family made her voice break. I looked down at my own translucent body, which was shaking uncontrollably. I wanted so badly to rush over and tell them. Don’t worry about me. Just live your own lives. But in the next second, Lena collapsed into our aunt’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. She was in so much pain, so conflicted. The weight on her slender shoulders was enough to crush her. “I won’t abandon her.” “But every time I think about how my entire life will be just like my parents’, I feel like I’d rather die.” Rather die. Those two words pierced me through. I moved to her side and gently wrapped my arms around her shoulders. I leaned my forehead against hers, just like when we were little. “Lena, I never told you.” “I never wanted you to be a soft-hearted person.” The way you fought to escape when you realized I was a burden… That’s exactly how I always hoped you would be. So, look forward. And never, ever look back. 3 My aunt took Lena back to her house. Her husband and my cousin saw her and only sighed softly. No one mentioned sending her back home. Lena sat at the dinner table and had a relatively warm and complete New Year’s Eve meal. My aunt prepared a cozy bed with a fluffy comforter for her, telling her to get a good night’s sleep. But in the middle of the night, Lena threw off the covers and started for the door. My cousin was on the sofa, playing a video game. Seeing her hurry, he asked, “Where are you going so late?” Lena froze, her hand on her shoes. After a moment, she gritted her teeth. “Willow needs her massage every day. I have to go back.” My heart clenched, a sour ache filling my chest. Don’t do this. Lena, the person who escapes shouldn’t return to their cage. But she went anyway, without a second thought. It was New Year’s Eve. There were hardly any taxis. She stood in the wind and snow, stomping her feet to stay warm. Then, a pair of blinding headlights cut through the darkness and pinned her in their glare. A man got out of the car and forcefully pulled her inside. “Nathan!” Lena’s face lit up with surprise. “What are you doing here?” His gaze was dark and unreadable, fixed on her. “I figured you’d be worried about your sister,” he said. “So I came to pick you up.” Lena smiled and took his hand. I watched, and my silent heart began to pound, sounding an alarm. This was wrong. This was all wrong. His timing was too perfect, and this wasn’t the way home. “Lena! Lena!” “Get out of the car! Run! Get out! Get out!” My voice was lost in the winter wind. But somehow, it seemed to reach her, pulling her back from the sweet trap she’d fallen into. She glanced out the window at the increasingly dark road and shivered. “Nathan, where are you taking me?” The man named Nathan dropped her hand. The fake smile on his face twisted into something else. He casually crossed his legs and lit a cigarette. “Where else? We’re running away together.” The color drained from Lena’s face. “What do you mean? I want to go home!” “Nathan, take me home now! My sister is waiting for me!” Her voice grew more and more shrill, trembling with fear. The sound grated on Nathan’s nerves. He frowned and backhanded her across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the confined space of the car. Lena was stunned into silence. Nathan grinned. “What are you yelling about?” “Lena, your parents are dead, and all you have left is a cripple for a sister.” “You said you didn’t want to live like that. I’m taking you away, helping you start a new life. Isn’t that a good thing?” “Don’t worry, the family I found for you is very rich. You’ll be well taken care of.” Tears welled in Lena’s eyes as she desperately clutched his sleeve. “No, you can’t.” “How much money do you want? I have money, I can give it to you!” “My sister can’t live without me!” Even now, she was thinking of me. I clenched my fists, screaming in silent rage. I clawed at Nathan’s face, beat against the windows, tried anything to make a sound. But I was dead. I couldn’t touch anything. I couldn’t even protect the only family I had left. “What do I do? What do I do?” Tears of despair streamed down my face, unnoticed. I was in such a panic that I didn’t even realize Lena had suddenly gone quiet. Nathan patted her cheek, satisfied. “That’s better. Just be a good girl.” “As long as you’re obedient, I’ll find a good home for that cripple sister of yours, too.” He chattered on, cruelly asking about my physical condition. When he confirmed my kidneys were healthy, he grew excited. “It’s a lot more profitable to sell the parts separately than the whole.” In the next instant, Lena’s hand shot up. She brought the small stone—my gift—crashing down against his temple with all her strength. Blood streamed from the wound. He slumped over, unconscious, and the car began to swerve wildly. A second later, it slammed into the guardrail with a deafening crash. The scene of my parents’ accident flashed before my eyes. I flew to my sister’s side, frantic. “Lena! Lena, open your eyes! Don’t scare me!” She was bleeding so much. The light was fading from her eyes. In her hand, she still clutched the blood-soaked stone. I cried her name, begging her not to close her eyes. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she smiled. “Willow… the stone you gave me… it really saved my life.” I froze. But before I could say anything, her eyes fluttered shut. 4 An immense panic washed over me. She can see me… Does that mean she’s dying? I have to save her. How do I save her? Helpless. Again. Why am I always so useless? Why does every person I love have to suffer because of me? In my moment of deepest despair, the sirens came. My aunt and cousin arrived, crying as they held Lena and rushed her to the hospital. The police were right behind them, starting their investigation. I watched as the doctors bandaged Lena’s wounds, and my ghostly form felt weak with relief. Thank god. Thank god she was okay. She woke up quickly. Her eyes scanned the room and settled on our aunt. “Where’s Willow?” “Aunt Carol, I think I saw her when I passed out.” My aunt wiped a tear and ruffled Lena’s hair. “How could you have seen her?” “She can’t even leave the house by herself.” “I just called her and she didn’t pick up! That girl…” Lena frowned, took out her phone, and unblocked me. No missed calls. No messages. She tried calling my number. It rang and rang, but no one answered. That old stubbornness flared up in her again. “Willow, how dare you not answer my calls?” “If you don’t pick up, I’m really going to abandon you!” Watching her dial my number over and over, a bitter taste filled my mouth. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to answer. I just couldn’t. Lena was furious now. She hurled her phone against the wall. The screen shattered into a spiderweb of cracks. The photo of the two of us, our smiling faces set as her wallpaper, lit up for a brief second. Then it went dark. I knelt beside the broken phone and stared at it for a long time. We had taken that photo three years ago. It was her fifteenth birthday. She had grinned and asked for a present. I had prepared one long ago. A week earlier, I had begged my parents to take me to a temple on a mountain. I had knelt in my twisted, awkward posture for an entire day, just to have a special stone blessed. I gave it to her, my voice slurred, but my tone solemn. “It’s blessed. For protection.” “If anyone bullies you, you use this… and hit them.” She had laughed so hard she cried and insisted we take that picture to use as her phone’s background. Now the screen was shattered, and the blessed stone had fulfilled its purpose. It felt as if the final thread that bound us in this life had been severed. Lena’s expression grew darker. She took our aunt’s phone, her voice tight. “Willow, I’m calling you one last time.” “If you don’t answer, we are done.” The call had just connected when a group of police officers walked into the room. Lena fumbled, hastily hanging up. For some reason, she looked almost relieved. She looked at the officers. “Are you here to take my statement?” “Nathan, he…” The lead officer shook his head, his face grim. He held out a photograph for Lena to see. “We found a body this morning, frozen to death.” “A witness identified her as your sister.”

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In my past life, I was a lawyer forged in the cutthroat legal market of the East Coast, a grind that stacked more law codes than I could count. I died in a car crash on the way to collect evidence. Just like that. When I opened my eyes again, I was the long-lost daughter of one of Harbor Bay’s wealthiest families. But the millions of lines of case law, the strategies, the sheer knowledge—it was all still perfectly filed in the brain of the person I now was: Caroline Simon. I’d barely woken up in the plush hospital room when my biological mother, Enid Price, walked in with a face colder than granite. “Here is fifty thousand dollars,” she stated, sliding a document across the tray table. “Sign this, and never interrupt our life again.” It was a “Voluntary Waiver of Inheritance and All Related Rights”, placed next to a corporate bank card. The opening act was exactly as I had predicted. Huddled next to Enid, eyes slightly red with a mix of practiced innocence and a flicker of fear, was Isabelle ‘Izzy’ Finch, the girl who had usurped my identity for twenty years. “Sister, please don’t be mad at Mom and Dad,” Izzy whispered, managing a shaky sob. “It’s all my fault. I took your place…” Enid immediately pulled Izzy into a protective embrace, the look she shot me chilling with contempt. “Callie,” she used the nickname I hadn’t given her permission to use. “Sign the paper. Fifty thousand is more than enough for you to live quietly. The Simons are not a family for you to climb into.” Climb into? I almost laughed. The litigation funds in my previous life could have bought and sold this entire suburban hospital. 1 I raised my eyes, calm and level, first meeting Enid Price’s cold stare, then glancing at my silent biological father, Richard Simon, who stood by the window. “Ms. Price, Mr. Simon,” I began, my voice steady, professional. “First, a correction. I did not interrupt your life. You engaged a private agency, confirmed a DNA match, and actively sought me out. Legally, that’s called a reclamation. The initiative was yours. So, let’s dispense with the pretense of me being the unwelcome intruder.” Enid froze, clearly thrown by the articulation and the tone. She must have expected a terrified, grateful waif. “Second, regarding this ‘Waiver.’ Under the principles of Contract Law, specifically regarding duress, unconscionability, and lack of independent counsel—in a case where the waiving party, myself, is a minor without representation and there is a gross disparity of social and economic power…” “This document, which waives significant future rights based on mistake and unfair dealing, would be highly challengeable, and likely ruled voidable, in any competent court of law.” Izzy’s gentle sobbing stopped. She just stared at me. Richard slowly straightened from his slouch, his eyes narrowing with a sharp, calculating focus. “Finally, about the fifty thousand.” I paused, letting my gaze settle on the bank card. “That might cover a down payment in a forgotten corner of the state. But based on Tort Law precedents regarding child support, the past eighteen years of Simon Holdings’ average profits, your family’s documented expenditures, and Izzy’s costs—namely, private academy tuition, overseas enrichment programs, and verifiable luxury purchases…” I leaned forward slightly. “Your outstanding financial obligation to me, the debt for my rearing, is approximately one thousand times this figure. And that doesn’t even begin to calculate pain and suffering or emotional damages.” I gave them a small, sweet, lawyerly smile. “So, no. I can’t sign this agreement.” 2 The agreement was not signed. Richard, looking grim, told me to stay temporarily. Enid treated me like a poorly rendered hologram, and the staff ignored me altogether. I was perfectly happy with the quiet. My days began with pulling Simon Holdings’ public financial reports and shareholder structures. Old habits die hard. They are a reflex. That afternoon, the door opened, and Izzy slipped in, immediately latching onto my arm with false warmth. “Sister, we have a small gathering tonight—a family dinner—to introduce you to a few of Dad’s business associates!” “That’s lovely,” I replied, smiling back, while wondering what poison she was preparing. Just as a maid walked past the door, Izzy raised her voice several decibels. “Oh, Sister, I just realized! Do you have any, you know, heavy pieces of jewelry to go with your dress? Oh, I hope you do!” She paused, as if remembering something crucial. “Actually… Mom has a massive walk-in closet, but she hateswhen anyone goes in uninvited. You absolutely must remember that, okay?” The maid shot a discreet glance our way. There it is. The groundwork. Emphasize my lack of wealth, create the narrative of the poor country girl, and place a ‘treasure’ behind a glass wall, making me the prime suspect. “I don’t have any statement jewelry, but I don’t mind. I’ll go without,” I said, keeping my tone perfectly mild, but inside, the contempt was a cold, bitter knot. The family dinner was held at the most exclusive private club in Harbor Bay. The guests included peripheral Simon family members and several directors from companies with ties to Simon Holdings. Izzy, in a bespoke gown, was the picture of a polished heiress, laughing easily on Richard’s arm. I was seated at a side table, my slender frame draped in a gorgeous, expensive dress Izzy had helpfully picked out for me—a shade of emerald green that was far too grand and looked like I was playing dress-up. Midway through the appetizer course, Izzy let out a sudden, high-pitched gasp. “Mom, didn’t you say you were wearing the diamond bracelet you bought at Christie’s this morning?” Enid touched the plain gold cuff on her wrist and forced a smile. “I swore I saw it this morning, but I couldn’t find it when we left the house…” Izzy immediately looked distraught. “Oh, no! Did it fall off somewhere? That bracelet was Dad’s birthday gift to you. It was worth three million dollars!” A missing piece of jewelry worth that much was not a minor incident. Every eye in the room discreetly swept the table and finally landed on me, the silent girl in the ill-fitting, flashy dress. Richard’s face hardened. “We’ll discuss this back home.” But Izzy spoke up, her voice small and tentative. “Dad, Mom, I suddenly remembered… this afternoon, only Sister went up to the third floor…” She looked at me, her face a perfect mask of regret. “Could it be that Sister just didn’t have a nice enough piece for her gown…” The private dining room went instantly silent. Enid exploded. Her voice was sharp, a pure shriek of accusation. “Callie Simon! Did you take it?! Answer me!” A wave of low murmuring went through the guests. A few directors watched me with eyes as sharp as knives. I picked up my napkin, slowly wiped my mouth, and stood up under the concentrated gaze of the entire room. “Everyone,” I said, my voice quiet, but cutting through the silence like glass. “First, as per the state’s criminal code, specifically relating to Defamation and Criminal Slander, to fabricate facts with the intent to subject a person to criminal investigation, particularly involving a major felony, is punishable by imprisonment.” The initial look of scorn on the guests’ faces faltered. They had not expected a law lecture. “You are currently accusing me of the theft of property valued at several million dollars. In this state, that meets the threshold for Grand Theft in the First Degree, a serious felony with a potential sentence of ten years or more.” Izzy’s face went pale, but she still forced a smile. “Sister! What are you saying? You’re scaring everyone! I only asked if you were worried; I never said you took it…” “This afternoon, you deliberately highlighted my lack of jewelry in front of the staff, intentionally informed me the jewelry was in your mother’s closet, and now, at a public dinner, you are linking the missing item to me and my brief presence on the third floor. That constitutes a clear and directed campaign of slander.” I cut her off. I pulled out my phone and lit up the screen. “Second, regarding my movements this afternoon.” I pulled up a video file and displayed it for the room. “Anticipating that my ‘sensitive’ status might lead to misunderstandings, I specifically recorded an uninterrupted, time-stamped video from 3:20 PM to 4:00 PM, using my phone’s front-facing camera, within the privacy of my second-floor guest room. During this entire time, I did not leave the room for a single step.” I hit the play button. The fast-forwarded footage clearly showed me sitting at a small desk near the window, reading a book, my body and the room’s backdrop always visible. “This video has been encrypted and simultaneously uploaded to an accredited national electronic evidence preservation platform. It can be verified and authenticated at any time.” I pocketed the phone, my gaze moving from Izzy’s dramatically changing expression to Enid’s furious, trapped face, and finally to Richard Simon. “Mr. Simon, my video is conclusive. I have a confirmed alibi for the entire duration of the purported diamond bracelet theft.” The room was stunned. “Third,” I said, giving them no time to recover, locking my eyes on Izzy. “Ms. Finch, you proceeded with this suggestive accusation in a public setting, despite knowing that I have an air-tight alibi. Your subjective malice is evident. Given that this action has caused substantial damage to my reputation and sought to plunge me into serious criminal risk, I reserve all rights to pursue legal action against you.” “If you do not immediately and publicly retract your statement and clarify the situation, I will file a police report for defamation and a private criminal complaint for slander right now.” 3 Dead silence fell over the private room. The directors’ expressions had become openly amused. The peripheral family members exchanged nervous glances. Richard Simon’s face was dark, furious. The perpetrator, Izzy, was swaying, every ounce of blood drained from her face. “Nonsense!” Richard slammed his hand on the table. “A bracelet is not worth this drama! A housekeeper must have misplaced it! Apologize to Callie, now!” Enid’s mouth opened and closed, unable to form words. Izzy, terrified, burst into genuine tears. “I—I’m sorry, Sister! I was just so worried about Mom. I spoke out of turn…” “I heard your apology,” I said, looking at her coldly. “But I don’t accept it.” “Given the severity of this incident, a verbal apology is insufficient to guarantee my safety. I require that, from this moment forward, no one be allowed into my room for any reason without my explicit permission.” “Furthermore, I expect Mr. Simon to draft a written guarantee tonight, promising that no similar attempt at slander or framing will occur again. Otherwise, I will consider this the Simon family condoning libel and will exercise all legal means for my protection.” Richard’s forehead veins pulsed with rage. But he was caught. In front of witnesses, and with Izzy having been demonstrably caught lying. He was forced to swallow his anger. “Fine,” he ground out. “It will be done. Are you satisfied?” I gave a slight nod and returned to my seat. The dinner continued, but the atmosphere was irreparably broken. No one dared to look at me with suspicion again. Within days, the story—my poise under pressure, the air-tight alibi, the swift legal counter—spread through the city’s upper echelon. Several major corporate figures with connections to Simon Holdings began showing interest in me. At subsequent business dinners, they deliberately instructed Richard to bring me along, introducing me to their nephews and protégés. Izzy’s complexion grew visibly paler with each passing week. Returning from one such dinner, Izzy cornered me on the staircase landing. Her smile was sickeningly sweet, but her voice was a malicious whisper. “Sister, you’ve become Dad’s favorite prop lately. So high and mighty.” “Just remember, a sparrow wearing a few peacock feathers is still just a sparrow! The higher you climb, the harder you fall!” I looked into the undisguised hatred in her eyes, and my lips curved into a slow, cold smile. “Is that so? At least I’m not someone else. It’s a lot better than being so unqualified that you have to stand on stolen ground, desperate to push others into the abyss. How pathetic is that?” Izzy’s smile froze. “Callie Simon! What did you say? Say that again!” I simply walked past her and up the stairs, without another word. A few weeks later, it was the annual Shaw Group gala, an event where every significant name in Harbor Bay society was present. The Simon family was invited. During the evening, I found myself pressed into drinking more wine than I should have. Slipping away to the restroom during a brief lull, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and the world began to spin. The next thing I knew, I collapsed to the floor. 4 I don’t know how much time passed before my consciousness slowly returned. I sat up abruptly. I was wearing nothing but a thin, silk nightgown. Not the floor-length gown I had worn to the gala! My heart clenched. A bolt of icy dread shot through my limbs. “Awake?” A low, cool male voice came from the other side of the room. By the floor-to-ceiling window, Damon Shaw, wearing a dark silk dressing gown, was pouring water. He turned, his perfectly sculpted features devoid of warmth, expressing only the profound annoyance of a man whose privacy had been violated. “Where is this? How did I get here?” “That is the question I should be asking you.” Damon placed the glass down, a short, dismissive scoff escaping him. “Ms. Simon, appearing in my guest suite bed at midnight in a silk slip? Is this the kind of social education the Simons now provide?” He clearly believed I had engineered this, using the crudest means possible to ‘climb the ladder.’ Furious shame and cold realization flooded me, but I forced the lawyer’s logic and composure to the front of my mind. This was a setup. A toxic, catastrophic scheme designed to utterly destroy my reputation and ensure Richard threw me out. Izzy didn’t just want to ruin my name—she wanted me to permanently alienate Damon Shaw, the one man in Harbor Bay you absolutely could not afford to offend. “Mr. Shaw,” I made myself speak slowly, evenly. “I was drugged or struck from behind. Before I lost consciousness, I was near the second-floor powder room, wearing a full gown, not this nightgown.” Damon’s brow slightly arched, but he remained silent, unconvinced. “First,” I quickly scanned the room. “If I intended to seduce you, I would have at least targeted your private Master Suite. Not a common-area guest room. It is illogical—I had no way of knowing you would be here.” “Second,” I lifted the corner of the sheet, exposing my lower leg and ankle. “I can feel a dull, throbbing pain at the back of my neck, consistent with a blunt force impact. More importantly, my outer calf has a small, light scuff mark and trace of dirt. This is consistent with being dragged while unconscious. If I had walked here myself, barefoot or otherwise, this injury wouldn’t exist.” Damon’s gaze followed my gesture, briefly lingering on the small red mark on my leg. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Third, and most crucial,” I took a deep breath, throwing out the ultimate challenge. “Mr. Shaw, if I truly had the skill to evade all surveillance, drug myself, change into a slip, and silently slip into your room—why would I use such an easily exposed, ridiculous maneuver? Why wouldn’t I simply have slipped something into your drink?” “To attempt such a flawed, transparent scheme is to beg for self-destruction. And I am not suicidal.” The layer of frost on Damon’s face seemed to crack. He began to truly see me, re-evaluating the scene. After a long moment, he tossed a dark, heavy men’s blazer onto the bed, silently indicating I should put it on. “You’re the daughter the Simons recently found, the one from the Midwest?” His voice softened fractionally, though his expression remained severe. “Intriguing.” Just then, a wave of hurried footsteps echoed outside the door. Then came Izzy’s voice, a perfect imitation of worried panic. “Dad, Mom, do you think Sister drank too much and got confused? I think I saw her heading this way…” “Oh, my God! I think she went into this room!” The words were barely out before the door was violently thrown open from the outside!

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I dated my idol for eight years. But when my parents pressured me to get married, he refused. “You’re just a canary I keep, a lover who can’t see the light of day. You think you deserve to marry me?” “But you are getting old. Go home and see if there’s anyone suitable. Don’t say I wasted your time later.” I was in excruciating pain, holding back tears. I knew from the beginning that he only liked me because I looked 80% like his dead childhood sweetheart. But I still naively hoped he liked me at least a little bit. Now, the dream is over, and it’s time for me to leave. Packing my things, I called my mom: “Mom, I agree to the blind date you arranged.” 1 I was still showering in the bathroom. Liam suddenly pushed the door open, startling me. Before I could recover, he pressed me against the cool tiles and kissed me passionately. His model figure, god-like face that made millions of fans scream, and his unknown seductive techniques made me gradually fall from shock. From the shower area to the bathtub, and then to the bed. Suddenly, the abrupt ringtone of the phone cut through the romance in the bedroom. It rang and was hung up, rang and was hung up… I reached out to grab the phone before Liam, but he smashed it to the ground. The ringtone rang again. “Damn it, is there no end?” Liam completely lost interest. I quickly picked up the phone on the ground, full of apologies. “It’s my mom calling. It might be urgent.” He went into the bathroom unsatisfied. My mom called again to urge me to get married. I listened to her nagging absently and hung up. At this time, Liam came out of the bathroom. The anger just now was gone, replaced by a look of indifference. “Your mom urged you to get married?” “Yeah.” “Do you want to get married?” My heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to test his reaction, “Yes.” Liam sneered: “Indeed, you are getting old. Go home and see if there is anyone suitable. Don’t say I wasted your time later.” Actually, I had expected him to say that. But when I really heard it, I realized what kind of heart-wrenching pain it was. I twitched the corners of my mouth, lowered my head and held back my tears. However, knowing that his words hurt me, Liam didn’t coax me. He went to the living room as if nothing had happened, leaving me alone to digest it. In fact, I have suffered such cold violence hundreds and thousands of times in these eight years. 2 Liam is a top idol with millions of fans, and I am his fan. At a fan meeting, like many fans, I was crazy about him offstage. I was suddenly hit by the goddess of luck and got the chance to interact with my idol on stage. At that time, a close contact, a simple hug. A few warm words of concern were enough to make me feel lightheaded. For the first time, I felt that human satisfaction and happiness were embodied. Later, after graduation, I interned in the art group of the crew. Liam happened to be the male lead of that drama. So I often found opportunities to get close to Liam, and he didn’t seem to dislike me. Later, we added each other on WeChat. Back and forth, we gradually became lovers doing all intimate things. However, “lovers” was just what I thought. In Liam’s eyes, I was more like a canary he kept, an underground lover who couldn’t see the light of day. I fell deeper and deeper into this relationship, unable to extricate myself. Suddenly, I discovered that Liam had a dead childhood sweetheart. And I looked at least 80% like her. This relationship was unequal from the beginning. He was a high-and-mighty idol, and I was a fan who admired and was obsessed with him, humble to the dust. But I always thought he at least liked me. Unexpectedly, his little liking for me was also because of another woman. My friend asked me, why could I continue to maintain such a relationship with him for six years after discovering I was a substitute? Probably because I was greedy for money and lust. Being with Liam, except for a little dignity, I didn’t seem to suffer any loss. He was good in bed, handsome, and gave me money to spend. However, a few days ago, I was still trying to figure out how to put off my parents and avoid their urging for marriage. At this moment, I suddenly felt tired. Maybe my mom was right. I’m old enough to plan for my future. Even if I don’t get married, I can’t continue to entangle endlessly like this. What’s more, Liam will sooner or later meet a girl who looks more like his dead ex-girlfriend than me. Leaving proactively is better than waiting to be abandoned. This night, I wasn’t sad for long. When Liam finished smoking and returned to the bedroom, I was already asleep. I woke up suddenly in the second half of the night, only to find Liam sleeping soundly with his long arms and legs wrapping around me. 3 After making up my mind, I called my mom back. I told her I would go home for the New Year, and she could arrange blind dates for me. However, leaving the city where I have struggled for nearly ten years is not a matter of a suitcase. What’s more, I still have some financial connections with Liam. In fact, I haven’t relied entirely on Liam these years. I have been drawing comics. Every time Liam saw me drawing, he would say: “Why do you work so hard to draw these? It’s a waste of time.” I was an art student and graduated from a top art college in China. I didn’t want to give up what I liked. What’s more, if I were with him, I would have no sense of security at all and would always worry about being abandoned. So I registered my own account and serialized my own comics. Even though my account had no popularity at first, I persisted. Later, my comics became popular, and I sold the copyright and earned more than one million. I told Liam excitedly, sharing my joy. I thought he would at least praise me a few words, but what I got was his light ridicule. “More than one million? Not even as expensive as the bag I gave you last month.” “What are you tossing about? Didn’t I give you an unlimited black card?” I was very disappointed, but I still tried to communicate with him. It wasn’t about money, it was about the satisfaction of realizing self-worth. But he had absolutely no interest in listening to me: “Okay, continue drawing if you want, but don’t take up our meeting time.” In Liam’s eyes, my value lies in being on call, accommodating him 100%, serving him, and serving him alone. When he is happy, he will accompany me and give me a few candies casually; when he is unhappy, I have to be responsible for making him happy. And when I am unhappy, I have to learn to digest it myself and cannot give him any attitude, otherwise I will get his more ruthless cold violence. Once he asked me to meet, but I was accompanying my best friend who had just broken up. He actually blacklisted me. No matter how I sent messages, called, and begged bitterly, he only let his assistant send me away and didn’t say a word to me. It was not until three months later that he forgave me. Besides, when I was sick, I always saw the doctor alone. Once I even had a car accident. Although it wasn’t very serious, I stayed in the hospital alone for a week. During the period, I called him, hoping he could come and see me. He said he was filming and couldn’t come, and then hung up. In these eight years, I have asked myself countless times, does Liam really love me? Facts have proved that in his eyes, I am just a toy for his entertainment, a substitute for a dead lover. 4 During these eight years, I made a table for all the things Liam gave me and the money he spent. Those things are easy to deal with. Sell what can be sold, and then convert it into cash. The trouble is, a house he gave me, the housing price plummeted, and selling it would be a huge loss. But transferring it to him, he definitely wouldn’t be happy. Thinking about it, I decided to sell it. Over the years, various copyright fees and income from basic comics, as well as the gold bars I have hoarded for several years, have increased a lot. Adding it all up is not only enough to pay back Liam’s money, but there are also a few million left. Taking this money back to my hometown and spending it frugally is enough to lie flat. What’s more, I don’t plan to lie flat yet! Now I’m just waiting for the house to be sold so I can leave. The newly published comics exploded again in a few days. A company wanted to buy the film and television copyright. The other party offered a high price, and I soon expressed my willingness to cooperate. Then they made an appointment to meet me at a high-end private restaurant. Unexpectedly, the partner was my comic fan. Everyone chatted happily. After three rounds of drinking, I suddenly received a message from Liam. [Where?] I replied casually: [Outside, eating.] Unexpectedly, Liam replied instantly: [Eating? With a group of old men?] [Sue, I don’t have time to control you usually, do you think I’m dead?] My heart skipped a beat, and I looked out the window. I recognized Liam in disguise at a glance. A windbreaker, a peaked cap, a black mask, 1.8-meter long legs, like a model figure in a pictorial. He stood in the corridor looking down at his phone. The moment he turned back, his eyes met mine through the glass window. Frowning slightly, his peach blossom eyes were full of anger. At this time, his agent came out of the private room and blocked his view. While chatting and laughing, Liam left with his agent. Although I wanted to break up, I don’t know why I still habitually pleased him. Almost without thinking, I replied with an explanation. [They want to buy the film and television copyright of my comics and are discussing cooperation.] Liam: [I’ll wait for you in the car. Come out in five minutes.] Even through the screen, I could feel his expression when he said this sentence, and the suffocating oppression. Am I his dog? Patiently, I replied: [Haven’t finished talking yet, you go first!] Liam: [Sue, flirting with a group of old men, do you know how cheap you look?] Words like poison, like a cold knife stabbing into my heart. Every knife drew blood. I turned off the phone screen and buckled it on the table. The next second, the phone calls bombarded again. The partner probably saw my embarrassment and asked if I had something urgent, or we could meet next time. If it were before, I would really be so love-struck that I would leave everything to find him. But at this moment, an indescribable sense of shame swept over me. I shook my head and hung up the call: [It’s okay, let’s continue.] After saying that, I, who just said I wouldn’t drink, poured a full glass: “Thank you for liking my comics. This is really important to me.” 5 I slept until very late the next day. Just as I was about to go out to eat something, I received a call from the partner, saying sorry that they couldn’t buy my film and television copyright. I asked for the reason in detail, but the other party faltered. Under repeated questioning, he told me that someone put pressure on their company, probably wanting to snatch my work. He also said that someone else might contact me soon to buy my work. Sure enough, in the afternoon, someone contacted me, and the offer was ten times higher than the original one, and they also bought out all copyrights of the work. But when I asked why they wanted to buy it out, the other party’s attitude was very cold. Saying it was their boss’s decision, and how to deal with it later was their business. After selling it, I would have no right to ask. This made me feel very strange. I was very happy that someone wanted to buy the copyright of the work, but that was my painstaking effort. No matter how much money, I wouldn’t sell it like selling a child. So I refused. 6 “Brother Liam, Sister Sue rejected them.” “What? Rejected?” Liam threw the magazine in his hand and frowned at his assistant, Zack. “Why not sell?” “Don’t know, she didn’t say.” Zack said cautiously: “Could it be that Sister Sue discovered that you are the backer behind the scenes?” Liam’s face darkened: “Really ungrateful.” “Hung up on me yesterday, and hasn’t come to apologize until now.” “Do you think I treat her too well? That’s why she’s getting more and more presumptuous now!” Zack didn’t know what to say. Saying Brother Liam treated Sister Sue badly, she was his only woman for so many years, and he was generous with money. Saying good, but he seemed not to understand what Sister Sue really wanted at all. Like last night, Brother Liam asked him to wait for Sister Sue to come out and watch her go home safely. Zack felt that Liam loved Sue, but didn’t know how to express it. “Brother Liam, how about you soften up first this time?” “What?” Liam disdained: “What is she? She smiled apologetically to a group of old men, hung up on me, and asked me to apologize first?” Zack wanted to persuade again, but Liam rubbed his temples and said: “Wait, she will come to apologize on her own initiative tonight.” “Remember to check your phone more often, don’t miss any calls.” Zack was helpless: “Okay.” 7 Half a month passed. As I expected, Liam treated me with cold violence as always. Originally, I thought about breaking up with him and saying goodbye properly. It seems unnecessary at all. He won’t look for me. The eight-year relationship ended so simply. Even though I was ready to leave, my heart couldn’t help but ache. Actually, this was not the first time I wanted to break up. In the past eight years, I wanted to break up countless times. The longest time was a week, and the shortest was a few hours, and then I regretted it. I was like a fish living on Liam. Losing his nourishment, I felt like I was going to die immediately. However, this time, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief. The house was finally sold. I took a rose bath and almost fell asleep comfortably when the phone suddenly rang. It was Zack calling. “Sister Sue, Brother Liam asked you to come to [Night Heart] now.” That was the private club Liam often went to. Unexpectedly, he would still look for me. I thought he had a new love and didn’t want me anymore! I said lazily: “Not going, tell him I’m already asleep.” Zack instantly looked like he had received a huge shock. “Sister Sue… stop joking. Brother Liam has been in a bad mood recently. If you do this again, I’m worried…” I didn’t listen to his long-windedness and hung up directly. Five minutes later, the phone called again. “Sister Sue, I beg you, please come over, okay?” “Brother Liam said if you don’t come, he will fire me.” Zack’s voice was trembling, feeling like he was about to cry. Liam was just like that, always venting his anger on others. Zack came from a poor family and had a sick mother to take care of. It wasn’t easy for him to swallow his pride around Liam for so many years. After thinking about it, I decided to go there and make a clean break with him by the way. 8 As soon as I pushed the door open and entered, the originally lively private room quieted down, and everyone looked at me. Liam sat in the middle, with a young and tender girl in his arms. Except for that girl, I knew everyone else. They also knew about my relationship with Liam. A few rich second generations who didn’t mind watching the fun greeted me. “Sister-in-law, you’re here!” “Why don’t you get away tactfully? Sister-in-law is here.” The body of the girl in Liam’s arms stiffened instantly. After scanning back and forth between me and Liam, she hesitated for a moment and was about to get up, but was pressed back into his arms by Liam. He took a sip of wine漫不经心ly, glanced at me and said: “Here?” “Don’t you have a lot of works to sell?” “Here are all rich sponsors with nowhere to spend money. Pour them wine, smile, and you will definitely sell for a good price.” Hearing this, except for Zack who was sweating profusely beside me, everyone’s eyes were full of contempt and ridicule. It turned out he asked me to come just to humiliate me again. Worthy of being Liam, despicable, selfish. Always self-centered, never considering others’ feelings. However, seeing me standing there in embarrassment for a long time, my eyes slightly red, Liam didn’t seem satisfied enough and urged again. “What are you still standing there for?” “What’s wrong with Sue? So aloof in front of me, but okay in front of outsiders?” I clenched my hands tightly, my nails digging deep into my flesh, but I didn’t seem to feel the pain. After taking a deep breath, I went forward and poured wine for everyone. Liam stared at me sheepishly with a look of disdain. Ignoring his gaze, I held up a glass of wine and looked at everyone. “Actually, I came here today to say goodbye to everyone.” “I’m leaving Haicheng soon, and I probably won’t come back in the future.” “I wish you all a bright future. See you around!” Everyone looked at Liam in shock. His face stiffened for a moment, but soon showed a disdainful smile. “Sue, don’t you think it’s childish and ridiculous to say such things?” “Will I soften my heart like this?” “Do you know you’re almost thirty?” As he said that, he hugged the girl tighter in his arms, “Isn’t this younger and prettier than you? What kind of woman can’t I get?” I nodded with a sincere face. “Indeed, since you have a new love, I, the old one, should make room for her.” “Let’s break up!” “Wish you harmony and beauty.” After drinking the wine in the glass in one gulp, I smiled shallowly: “Leaving first, everyone have fun.” I turned and withdrew from the private room, closing the door thoughtfully. At this time, someone said: “Brother Liam, did you go too far this time?” “She won’t really leave Haicheng and not come back, right?” Liam said nonchalantly: “Tch, she has a big temper recently, needs to be taught a lesson.” “That’s right. Everyone has seen how devoted Sue was to you in the past.” Zack spoke weakly: “Brother Liam, Sister Sue doesn’t seem to be acting out of pique this time. Just now she…” “Shut up! What do you know?” Liam said firmly: “She’ll have to cry and beg me tonight. send a video as proof later.” I smiled self-deprecatingly and strode away from the club. Originally wanted to leave in a few days. Returning to the villa that night, I couldn’t suppress my temper at all and couldn’t wait to change the flight ticket. Most of the luggage had been mailed home long ago. When leaving, it was nothing more than a small boarding case. So after leaving a note and two bank cards, I boarded the plane at three o’clock in the morning.

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