Category: English

1 To test my loyalty, my wife, Seraphina, hid her identity as a billionaire heiress for three years. The year our son was born, she came back into my life, revealing who she truly was. But just as she did, our son, Noah, was struck by a sudden illness that required a fortune to treat. That’s when her first love, Julian, reappeared, accusing me of being a gold-digging social climber. “Seraphina, he’s only after your money. How else do you explain the timing? The moment you reveal your identity, the child suddenly needs a massive amount of cash?” The look my wife gave me turned to one of pure contempt. That night, a group of men snatched our son. Right in front of me, they stuffed him into a burlap sack and began beating him with clubs. Just then, Seraphina emerged from a nearby luxury car, arm-in-arm with Julian, a cold smile on her face. “Leo, you love money so much, so I’ll give you some! You said he would protect you? Let’s see how much your precious mutt is worth!” I crawled to their feet, clutching their pant legs, begging Seraphina to spare him, reminding her that she was his mother too. She looked down at me with icy detachment. “Enough. It’s just a dog. Stop the theatrics.” … I stared blankly at the woman before me—my child’s mother. The sheer, crushing pain made my mind grind to a halt. I could almost hear the creak and groan of gears inside my head, like a machine on the verge of breakdown. It took a long moment for her words to register. “What did you say? What dog?” My question only intensified the scorn on her face. “I said, it’s just a dog. Even if you’ve had it for years, you can’t possibly treat a dog like it’s your actual son, can you?” Seraphina thought the thing in the sack was my pet dog, Buddy. The misunderstanding hit me like a physical blow. My lips trembled as I scrambled to explain. “Seraphina, that’s not Buddy in the sack! Buddy ran away a few days ago! That’s our son, Noah! That’s Noah!” “Please, get him to a hospital! He might still be alive!” I scrambled on all fours, trying to snatch the sack from the men to prove I was telling the truth. Seeing my bloodless face and a desperation she had never witnessed before, a flicker of unease crossed Seraphina’s features. She took a step forward, about to check the sack for herself, but Julian placed a hand on her arm, sighing dramatically. “Leo’s acting is a marvel. It’s a shame he never got an Oscar. Sera, are you really going to stand here and watch his performance? I’m heading back.” He added, “Besides, if it were a child, wouldn’t it be crying after a beating like that?” “This is what people from the bottom are like. They’ll spin any lie for a bit of money.” His words were like a switch. Seraphina’s face hardened, and that fleeting moment of concern was instantly replaced by disgust. “Enough!” she snapped at me. “You said your dog was a warrior who served on the battlefield with you. Let’s see just how tough he really is!” At her command, the men raised their clubs and began beating the sack again. I tried to lunge forward, to shield the sack with my own body, but her bodyguards pinned me to the ground. “No! Please, he’s so small! Let him go! Beat me instead! Beat me!” In my despair, all I could do was slam my forehead against the pavement, again and again, a desperate, useless plea to the two people standing over me. My life, my dignity—none of it mattered compared to my son’s. Seraphina looked away, a hint of discomfort in her eyes, but Julian wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and casting a triumphant, mocking smile in my direction. No one listened to my hoarse screams. In the suffocating darkness, my cries of anguish mingled with the sickening thud of clubs, weaving a net of pure despair. A dark crimson stain began to seep through the burlap, spreading into a pool of blood on the asphalt. Finally, amid my soul-shattering roars of agony, the small life inside the sack went still. The men holding me down released their grip. In an instant, I was on my feet, scrambling to the sack, clutching the blood-soaked, mangled bundle to my chest. Seraphina, apparently bored with the show, gave a dismissive wave of her hand. She and Julian slipped back into their car and sped away. The night wind was cold, and a violent shiver wracked my body. “Noah, you must be cold. Daddy will give you his coat.” I tore off my jacket and wrapped it tightly around the small, broken form. I knew I was fooling myself, but a desperate, insane sliver of hope remained. What if? What if Noah was strong? What if he hadn’t left me yet? Clinging to that impossible hope, I ran to the hospital. “Help me! Please, save my son…” The medical staff took the burlap sack from me with looks of confusion. When they opened it, a nurse screamed. I didn’t hear her. My eyes were fixed on the doctor. “Doctor, can he be saved? Is there still time?” The doctor looked at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher—pity, perhaps, or something stranger. He finally let out a heavy sigh. “Sir, in a situation like this, we recommend you contact the police first.” His words shattered my last hope into a million pieces. I took a deep, shuddering breath and finally forced myself to look inside the sack. The small child who used to smile at me was no longer recognizable. He was a ruin of flesh and bone. I couldn’t even make out his face. After the initial, searing pain, a cold, hard rage began to build inside me. The death certificate was issued quickly. I went to the police station and reported everything, from beginning to end. Hours later, an officer came and sat down beside me. Noticing my deathly pale face, he hesitated before speaking. “Mr. Thompson, my deepest condolences. The area where this happened… there are no security cameras. It’s going to be difficult to find evidence.” “But please, rest assured, we will get you justice.” I nodded, numb. Just then, my phone rang, breaking the heavy silence. I answered. It was Seraphina, her voice sharp with annoyance. “Where are you? Why aren’t you home yet? And where is Noah?” A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my lips. The absurdity of it all made even my anger feel distant and light. “Noah? Didn’t you have him beaten to death? His body is still at the morgue. Would you like to come see it?” Her voice turned shrill. “Leo, what has happened to you? Are you so desperate for money that you’d lie about our own son?” “Julian was right about you. You’re nothing but a manipulative, gold-digging parasite!” I was too tired to argue. I just wanted the law to give me and my son some semblance of justice. After leaving the station, I returned to the funeral home in a daze. The mortician had done their best, but the violence Noah had endured was too severe. His small face could not be restored. In a fog of grief, I started to wonder if this was all just a nightmare. Just a month ago, he was nestled in Seraphina’s arms, gurgling and smiling at me, calling me “Dada” in his sweet, baby voice. I had held both their hands and promised them a happy future. Back then, Seraphina would blush and lean in to give me a kiss filled with love. All those happy moments were still so vivid. How had everything changed so drastically in just one month? The next day, I got a call from the police. “Mr. Thompson, we’ve apprehended the men who assaulted your son.” My heart leaped. I rushed to the station. The men who had beaten Noah were there, but the real culprits, the ones who gave the order—Seraphina and Julian—were nowhere to be seen. A wave of pure fury washed over me. I lunged forward and grabbed one of them, a punk with bleached hair, by the collar. “Where is Seraphina?! Where is Julian?! Why aren’t they here?!” The punk’s eyes, wide with a mixture of mockery and malice, met mine. He feigned a plea. “Hey man, I didn’t mean to kill your kid! I swear, I thought it was a vicious dog that had been biting people in the neighborhood!” I knew then. They were here to take the fall. All the blood rushed to my head. I swung my fist, smashing it into the man’s face. “Mr. Thompson, calm down! This is a police station!” officers shouted, pulling me away. As I struggled, unable to move, I saw the men exchange subtle, triumphant smirks. No matter how many times I insisted to the police that there were others behind this, after a brief investigation, they were let off with a slap on the wrist. The case was closed with insufficient evidence to prosecute the masterminds. Only the hired thugs were arrested. The evidence all pointed to the bloody weapon, but the hand that wielded it remained hidden in the shadows. In that moment, I understood. With enough money, facts could be twisted. The truth could be buried. All the strength drained out of me. When I returned to the funeral home, an attendant asked me when I wanted to schedule Noah’s cremation. A few days later, the day of the cremation arrived. The staff at the funeral home, noticing how my hair had turned gray in just a few days, approached me cautiously. “Sir, do you need to keep the child’s body for evidence?” I shook my head. I didn’t want Noah to suffer any longer in this world. I leaned over the small, refrigerated casket, my tears falling freely as I said my final goodbye. Noah, next time, make sure you’re born into the right family. Grow up happy, without a care in the world. “You can proceed with the cremation now.” It was over quickly. I had braced myself for this moment, but when I saw the small urn, my eyes burned with fresh tears. Just as I was about to leave, a group of people blocked my path. Julian let out a low whistle. He turned to Seraphina, who was standing beside him with a furious expression, and said provocatively, “Well, look at Leo. He’s really committed to the part. He even came to the crematorium for the full effect!” His words were gasoline on the fire of her anger. Without a word, she strode forward and slapped me hard across the face. “Leo, I am so disappointed in you! You’d go to these lengths just for attention?” “I’m asking you, where have you been hiding Noah all this time?!” My vision swam with red. I clutched Noah’s urn to my chest, a twisted, venomous hatred rising within me. I wondered what her reaction would be when she finally found out it was Noah who had died. Sensing the explosive tension, Julian stepped between us, playing the part of the peacemaker. “Seraphina, don’t be so hard on Leo. Anyone with a billionaire wife would feel insecure. Let me talk to him.” I didn’t know what he was planning, but I watched him warily as he approached. When he reached me, his benevolent mask dropped, replaced by a look of pure malice. He leaned in, his voice a low, venomous whisper. “Do you know why Seraphina still thinks it was a dog?” He slung an arm around my neck, pulling out his phone and playing a silent video. On the screen, my dog, Buddy, was tied down, whining pitifully. A figure entered the frame, gave Buddy an injection, and then, as the dog went limp, stuffed him into a burlap sack. A sack identical to the one they had used for Noah. The devil’s whisper continued in my ear. “You see? A little sedative, and what’s the difference between a man and a dog?” “You and that bastard child should never have existed. You never deserved the life you were given.” Seeing the utter madness in my eyes, Julian’s lips curled into a smirk. He added one final, brutal blow. “Oh, and by the way… your dog was delicious.” All the rage, all the hatred, all the grief in my soul erupted in that single moment. I spun around, grabbing him by the collar and driving my fist into his face. Julian cried out, clutching his cheek while shouting for all to hear, “I was just telling you not to be greedy for Seraphina’s money, to love her properly! Why are you hitting me?!” “I told you I was willing to leave, to stop bothering you!” I couldn’t even see his disgusting, deceitful face anymore. I was running on pure, primal instinct, my eyes blazing as I hit him again and again. Seraphina, momentarily stunned by my terrifying, feral state, snapped out of it and ordered her bodyguards to pull me off him. She walked over to me, her eyes filled with profound disappointment. “Leo, what have you become? A greedy, unrepentant liar who takes his anger out on others! It seems you need to be taught a lesson.” She gestured to her bodyguards, and their fists began to rain down on me. Julian, nursing his bruised face, couldn’t help but smile. “Leo was a soldier, after all,” he remarked casually. “Doesn’t look like this is affecting him much.” Seraphina frowned at his words, then barked at her men, “Haven’t you eaten?! Put some effort into it!” As they beat me, her eyes fell on the urn I was desperately trying to protect. Her gaze sharpened. She strode forward, kicked me over, and before I could react, brought her foot down hard. “NO!” I couldn’t stop her. I could only watch as Noah’s ashes scattered across the floor. I scrambled forward, my hands trembling as I tried to gather what was left of my son. Seeing my wretched state, Seraphina just shook her head. “Utterly hopeless.” That evening, I returned home, clutching the box containing the ashes I had managed to collect, intending to pack away Noah’s things. When I opened the door, I found Seraphina sitting on the sofa, apparently waiting for me. A flicker of relief, one she herself didn’t seem to notice, crossed her face when she saw me. But when her gaze landed on the small box in my hands, her expression hardened with impatience. “Stop the act, Leo. I’m not buying it.” At this point, I was beyond grief, beyond caring whether she was truly ignorant or just pretending. I asked flatly, “What do you want?” My lifeless tone seemed to infuriate her. “It was just a dog! Are you ever going to get over it? I’ll buy you a better one, will that make you happy?” She stood up and pulled a document from the sofa cushions, holding it out to me with an air of condescending charity. “Take a look at this. If there are no issues, sign it.” I stared at the papers. It was a prenuptial agreement. “What is this? We’re already married. What’s the point of signing this now?” My question seemed to confirm her suspicions. This man was only after her money. The thought deepened her frustration and disgust. “Let me be honest with you. The marriage certificate we got… it was a fake.” “And lately, I’ve been very disappointed in your performance. If you sign this, I’ll consider getting a real marriage certificate with you.” So, it was all a lie from the very beginning. From day one, Seraphina had been guarding her fortune from me. I remembered carrying her, wounded, across a battlefield. I remembered her blushing as she asked me to be her boyfriend. It was all a joke. A pathetic, cruel joke. A laugh bubbled up from my chest, raw and hysterical. “Hahahahaha! Fine. I’ll sign.” Seeing me sign so readily, a strange feeling stirred within Seraphina. Could she have been wrong about him? She thought back over the past three years—his unwavering care, his tenderness. She remembered the man who had carried her through a field of death and chaos… The love, the connection she had felt—that wasn’t fake. A wave of regret washed over her. “Leo,” she began, her voice softening, “don’t be so stubborn. I just needed proof that you truly love me. If you just admit you were wrong, we can go back to how things were…” She put the document away, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. I looked at her, my face a mask of scorn. “There’s no need, Ms. Sterling.” “You have what you wanted. You can go now. I’d like to be alone.” She had never been treated with such coldness by me. Her face fell. “Have it your way,” she snapped, turning and storming out. I quietly packed up my things, and Noah’s. Then, with my son’s ashes, I headed back to the war. A week later, in the penthouse office of Sterling Industries. Seraphina held a glass of freshly imported red wine, looking down at the city lights twinkling below. Leo hadn’t contacted her since that day. Even though Julian had been taking her on trips, trying to make up for lost time, a persistent shadow of unease loomed over her. It’s been a while now. He must have realized his mistake, right? She picked up her phone, but as her finger hovered over Leo’s number, she remembered Julian’s words: “Seraphina, you deserve to be worshiped. If you give in once, you’ll have to do it again and again.” She snapped her phone shut. She wasn’t going to spoil Leo. But… it had been so long. Surely, as a mother, she should at least check on her child? With that excuse, she happily opened her phone again and, with a feigned air of reluctance, called the daycare. When the teacher answered, Seraphina asked, a little awkwardly, “Hello, I was just calling to see how Noah has been doing these past few days. His father and I have been fighting… it hasn’t affected him, has it?” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, the teacher’s hesitant voice came through. “Mrs. Sterling… Noah passed away several weeks ago…” The sound of shattering glass echoed in the silent room.

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Ethan once dated me for a short while. When we broke up, he sneered: “You knew I only dated you because I lost a bet, why are you so cheap?” I didn’t explain, probably because I hadn’t read enough books and didn’t understand the principle of “leaving room for love.” Later, my mother told me that for two people to be together for a long time, love isn’t important; suitability is. I learned my lesson, listed my conditions, and after years of floating in the dating market, I finally found a suitable man. In the cafe, my date and I had a great conversation, even agreeing to have two children after marriage. Suddenly, an exquisitely dressed little boy popped out from nowhere and hugged my leg: “Mommy, why are you here? I missed you so much!” My date’s eyes widened in shock: “You have a child?” Before I could deny it, the little boy put his hands on his hips and answered righteously: “Of course I’m Mommy’s child, my daddy can prove it!” I followed his gaze and saw Ethan standing quietly not far away, hands in his pockets. Congratulations to me, six years after the breakup, I became a mother. 1 “Is this child really not yours?” My date was very skeptical. Of course, I understood his concerns. After all, the dating market is a mixed bag, full of all kinds of people. So I reasoned with him: “Look at me, look at this kid, and then look at the kid’s dad. Do you think we look like a family?” Ethan was too outstanding. He was the kind of outstanding that could be spotted instantly in a crowd even wearing a hat, mask, and the most ordinary T-shirt and jeans. This kid also had red lips and white teeth, and even a Gucci logo on his little leather jacket. My date looked at me, then at Ethan, and nodded convinced: “Indeed, you don’t look like a family. You’re better suited with me.” “I don’t know this kid, but his dad is my high school classmate. Haven’t seen him for years; he’s probably playing a joke on me.” I smiled and patted the kid’s head. My date was more reassured. Just as he was about to sit down and continue chatting, he received an urgent call from his company. I expressed understanding and said we could meet another time. “I’ve already paid the bill. Take your time eating, you can share with the kid too.” “Thank you, next time it’s on me.” I was really satisfied with this date, but as soon as he left, I heard the little boy say: “Your taste is really bad. He’s far worse than my dad.” I smiled and didn’t reply. Just as I was about to send him back to Ethan, I saw Ethan walking towards us. He called the waiter and asked to clear the desserts on the table. “These haven’t been touched yet. Waiter, please pack them for me,” I said gently. Ethan was a germaphobe; he wouldn’t touch anything others had touched. Of course, he had the capital for that. But I didn’t. I thought it was a pity to throw away perfectly good food. “You like these?” Ethan finally spoke, saying his first sentence to me. I looked at him in confusion. “Reorder the desserts on the table, pack them all for this lady.” Ethan opened the payment code on his phone and handed it to the waiter. “Throw away the ones on the table.” “I don’t really like sweets. If you order them, give them to the kid. But don’t let him eat too much; it’s bad for his teeth.” Saying this, I picked up my bag and nodded as a goodbye. “We haven’t seen each other for so many years. After all, we were lovers once.” Ethan tapped his fingers on the table a few times and looked up at me. “Don’t you want to sit down and catch up, Sarah?” 2 I sat back in the chair. The waiter was quick and soon served new drinks. Ethan’s son sat next to him, quietly scooping cake with a spoon. I felt the atmosphere was a bit awkward. He said catch up, but he didn’t speak. “You’re married? How old is your son?” “Four.” I calculated the time and was a bit surprised: “So you got married before graduating college?” Quite unexpected. I thought Ethan was against marriage, but it turned out the rules were for outsiders. When he met the right person, all principles could be compromised. “Were you on a blind date just now?” “Ah? Yes.” I nodded. “How was it? Satisfied?” “Pretty good. We have quite a lot in common.” Both pragmatic and sincere. Ethan sneered, his tone mocking: “Seems you really reached that age where any man will do.” I stopped stirring my coffee, staring at the whirlpool in the liquid for a few seconds, then looked up with a smile and admitted frankly: “Yeah, I’m not young anymore. I want to settle down quickly, otherwise, it will be hard to recover from childbirth when I’m older.” Ethan’s lips pressed into a straight line. This was a sign that he was very unhappy. Normal. He was unhappy most of the time in front of me. I used to be terrified of this and always racked my brains to make him happy. “Don’t you think he looks familiar?” Ethan suddenly pointed at his son and asked me. I listened to him and observed carefully. “Your son doesn’t look much like you. Is he more like his mom? Do I know his mom too?” There were only a few girls close to Ethan that I happened to know. I guessed one by one, but Ethan’s face grew darker and darker. Finally, I shut up tactfully and smiled awkwardly: “Sorry, I don’t have much contact with high school classmates. I don’t remember many of them. How about a hint?” Ethan didn’t speak, and the atmosphere became more and more suffocating. The kid opened his big eyes, looking at me, then at his dad. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by Ethan: “Forget it.” He breathed rapidly for a few seconds, then quickly calmed down and handed his phone to me: “Add me on WeChat.” Actually, I didn’t really want to add him. But he kept staring at me, as if he wouldn’t take back his phone unless I added him. I could only take out my phone, scan the code, and send a friend request. “Let’s go.” Ethan put away his phone with satisfaction, stood up, and left first. The kid slid off the chair nimbly and trotted to keep up. After a few steps, he turned back to look at me. I smiled and waved goodbye to him. Actually, I wanted to tell Ethan to pay attention and not let the kid call anyone mom. Then I thought, what does it have to do with me? Why worry about things that don’t concern me. 3 I chose to pack the table full of desserts in the end and shared them with my colleagues at work the next day. “Wow, this dessert shop is expensive. Did you win the lottery?” “Your date bought it, right? This one is generous, unlike those stingy guys before.” “Right, almost forgot you have blind dates every week. How about this one? Did you like him?” I smiled and nodded: “I think this one is pretty good.” “What are his conditions?” I told the truth, and saw my colleagues looking disappointed: “You even consider these conditions?” “But compared to the previous ones, this one is already pretty good.” They chattered, eating cake while discussing my marriage. Perhaps I was a weirdo in their eyes because I had been going on blind dates since graduating from college. Not forced by relatives or friends, going through the motions to save face, but very seriously filtering and chatting. They thought women who were so determined to enter the grave of marriage in this era were fools. But I just knew very clearly what I wanted. I wasn’t a celibate, didn’t reject marriage, nor was I a very firm person who might not withstand the pressure of marriage urging from relatives and friends. Instead of being chosen by men when I’m older, it’s better to take the initiative while young and try to pick one I’m satisfied with. After all, a woman’s age is like a man’s wealth; it’s hard currency. My colleagues said my dates were low quality, nothing outstanding. But I was just a very ordinary woman, with nothing outstanding about me either. People always need to have self-knowledge. 3 After adding Ethan, I never chatted with him. He posted on Moments every now and then, from rock climbing to racing, always surrounded by beautiful women, living a colorful life. I liked liking posts; I found watching other people’s lives interesting and wasn’t stingy with small kindnesses. But I never liked Ethan’s posts. After all, given Ethan’s dislike for me, my like would probably only ruin his good mood. I met my date a few more times, had meals, watched movies, and we both had high approval of each other. On a gentle moonlit night, he asked me nervously and seriously if we could date with marriage in mind. I agreed. Mom was right. Marriage isn’t always about loving each other and living happily ever after. It’s the union of two families to increase the ability to resist risks, while also satisfying the instinct of human reproduction. Many of my colleagues and friends didn’t want children. They said only people whose brains haven’t fully evolved would be full of thoughts about children. Well, maybe my brain hasn’t fully evolved. Dragging down humanity, truly a bit embarrassed. On Monday, I specially took half a day off to go to the hospital. My health wasn’t very good, with irregular periods and dysmenorrhea. Thinking that since I planned to get married, I should check my body first, regulate it in advance, and prepare for pregnancy in the future. The doctor looked at my medical record, wrote some slips quickly, and asked me to come back for a follow-up with the test results. I walked while flipping through the test slips. Before seeing clearly where to do the tests, I heard someone call my name: “Sarah?” I looked up subconsciously and took a few seconds to remember who she was. Bella Feng, a high school classmate. She was pushing Ethan in a wheelchair, just walking out of the elevator. Don’t know what happened to Ethan; his face was a bit pale, and his leg was in a cast. “It really is you. I thought I saw wrong.” She looked me up and down. “You haven’t changed at all.” I knew what she meant. Most girls would undergo a transformative change after college and graduation compared to high school. But I didn’t. I still wasn’t good at makeup, didn’t dress up much, even my hairstyle was the same as in high school, bangs, short bob. “Hello.” I greeted politely. “Long time no see.” There were many test slips in my hand. I didn’t hold them steady for a moment, and they all fell to the ground. Bella subconsciously wanted to help. “No need, no need, I’ll do it myself.” I squatted on the ground picking up the slips one by one. One of them happened to drift to Ethan’s feet. Bella bent down to pick it up, glanced at it, and said in surprise: “Sarah, I thought you were very conservative and absolutely wouldn’t accept premarital sex. You actually had an abortion?” 4 People around looked over. Abortion isn’t shameful in this era, but I still felt inexplicably ashamed. I hurriedly took the slip from her hand, lowered my head, and wanted to leave. “Don’t go.” Bella grabbed my arm. “Are you in a hurry? Haven’t seen each other for so many years, let’s catch up?” Catch up again. Not even a good relationship, what “old times” are there to catch up on? “I’m in a hurry to get back to work.” I broke free from her, forced a smile, stuffed the slips into my bag, turned, and left. I could roughly guess that I would probably become a gossip figure in their small group again. It was the same when I was with Ethan back then. I was too love-struck then, reluctant to separate from Ethan, and because of my cowardly personality, I silently endured a lot of ridicule and eye-rolling. A short scream suddenly came from behind, followed by a heavy “thud.” I looked back subconsciously. Bella had a mix of surprise and fear on her face, standing拘束ly beside Ethan. Ethan was still sitting in the wheelchair, looking calm. Not far away, a phone broken in half lay quietly. Sensing my gaze, Ethan looked up at me expressionlessly, then withdrew his gaze, pressed the switch on the wheelchair, and left in the opposite direction. Bella picked up the phone and trotted to catch up. I thought Ethan was only moody in front of me. Turns out he’s like that with others too. For some reason, there was a subtle balance in my heart.

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On our tenth anniversary, my deaf husband, Ethan, disappeared all morning. Assuming he was preparing a surprise for me, I joyfully went to the hotel we agreed on. But what awaited me was his guilt-ridden confession: “I’m sorry, I cheated.” My mind went blank. The stain of bright red on the sheets stung my eyes. Ethan rubbed his forehead, looking defeated. “Sarah, this was an accident neither of us wanted. We were both drunk.” His “female bro,” Chloe, clutched the duvet tightly, breaking down in tears: “I’m not a virgin anymore. How am I supposed to get married in the future…” Ethan was silent for a long time. “I’m sorry. I’ll take responsibility.” I held back my tears. “What about me?” Ethan couldn’t speak. I laughed sarcastically, tears bursting from my eyes. “Let’s get a divorce.” “No, I won’t divorce you even if I die.” Ethan took off his hearing aids with red-rimmed eyes, refusing to communicate with me. I looked at him in despair. My phone vibrated, a message popping up from my ex-boyfriend: 【Sarah, stop being mad at me, okay?】 1 “Miss Song, I won’t ruin someone else’s marriage.” Chloe lifted her head stubbornly, the teardrops clinging to her lashes threatening to fall. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask Ethan to take responsibility.” She sobbed twice. “I won’t be a homewrecker!” Chloe stumbled out of bed. Ethan tried to support her, but she dodged him. She put on her clothes, wiped away her tears, glanced at Ethan with red eyes, grabbed her bag, and rushed out the door. My nails dug deep into my palms. Ethan looked anxious, quickly put on his clothes and hearing aids, brushed past me, and chased after her. I collapsed weakly onto the bed. A while later, Ethan returned, looking like he’d lost his soul. His gaze met mine, and he frowned disapprovingly. “How could you treat Chloe like that? She’s innocent.” I widened my eyes slightly in disbelief. Ethan’s brows knitted tight. “Isn’t she?” I gripped my phone tightly, turned my head away with tears in my eyes, and choked out, “Am I not innocent too?” Ethan fell silent. He scratched his head irritably. “We just had a little to drink while discussing business with a client. I didn’t expect things to develop like this…” “Chloe was a virgin… I have to take responsibility for her.” Ethan’s head hung lower and lower. A sarcastic smile hung on my face. “So should I go find my ex-boyfriend to take responsibility for me?” Ethan was momentarily speechless. “That’s not what I meant.” I laughed, tears blurring my vision. “You still care that I wasn’t a virgin.” Ethan got anxious. “I don’t! You know how much I love you.” “But you slept with someone else, and you want to take responsibility for her.” Ethan’s voice trembled. “But I don’t love her!” “I just accidentally made a mistake while drunk. Can’t you forgive me once for the sake of our thirteen years of relationship?” Ethan squatted in front of me, trembling as he held my hand. I lowered my head to hide the tears about to fall. “I promise I won’t sleep with another woman again, and I won’t drink anymore, but…” He lowered his head. “This is my fault. I must take responsibility for Chloe.” I broke free from Ethan’s hand and looked up into his eyes. “How do you plan to take responsibility? Be with her?” Ethan didn’t make a sound. I took his silence as a yes. “Let’s divorce.” Ethan pursed his lips, avoiding my gaze. “Chloe isn’t in a good state. I’ll go find her first.” “Wait for me… I’ll handle this matter properly. I won’t divorce you.” “I only love you.” Ethan stood up and left in a hurry. I propped up my head helplessly, tears falling uncontrollably. My phone popped up with a new message. 【I won’t badmouth Ethan anymore. I can apologize to him face-to-face for what happened before.】 【Don’t ignore me. I’ve been given the cold shoulder by you for thirteen years, please…】 I replied with trembling hands. 【I want to go home.】 The reply came instantly: 【I’m coming to pick you up now. Wait for me.】 2 Returning to the home I shared with Ethan, my gaze swept over the small, damp apartment. For the first time, I realized that having grown up in luxury, I could endure so much hardship for a man. To accompany him for work, I left home and came to S City, thousands of miles away. Here, I had no friends or relatives, only Ethan. But he… Wiping away the moisture at the corners of my eyes, I went back to the room to pack my luggage. My elbow accidentally bumped Ethan’s mouse. The computer screen lit up, displaying his WeChat chat window. It was the chat interface with Chloe. My pupils contracted as I scrolled mechanically with the mouse. The more I read, the colder my heart grew. 【Ethan oppa, wanna come out for a drink tonight?】 【Sarah is mad again? Women are like that, love throwing tantrums. You coax her.】 【My stockings ripped. Buy me a pair downstairs and bring them up. Don’t overthink it, I’m asking you because you’re my bro.】 【The coffee you just drank was pretty good, I took the rest. Bought you a bubble tea, left it on your desk.】 … After reading the chat history, blood rushed to my head, and I swayed. I barely steadied myself by holding onto the desk, nails digging deep into the wood. Tears fell onto the desk, splashing. Memories surged. The scene of Ethan’s confession replayed in my mind. Holding a huge bouquet of red roses, he knelt before me, swearing devoutly: “From now on, I will only love Sarah Song.” “I will never let Sarah suffer a bit of grievance or shed a single tear.” “Heaven and earth be my witness, I will never have a second heart.” He broke his promise. I bit my lower lip hard, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth. The wedding photo on the wall suddenly fell, making a loud noise. I walked over to pick it up, fingers tracing the photo. When we first got married, Ethan and I were tight on money. We only registered the marriage and didn’t hold a wedding. When conditions improved slightly, Ethan spent a month’s salary to take wedding photos with me. In the photo, Ethan held me with eyes full of love, his lips pressing against my forehead. It was too ironic. I numbly picked up the scissors, cut the photo into pieces, and threw them into the trash can. A sound came from the entryway. Ethan was back. Seeing me at home, Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Chloe is missing.” “Mhm.” I responded. He frowned. “Why do you have this attitude?” My eyelashes trembled. “Then what attitude should I have?” Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his eyes were full of disappointment. “Sarah, you really feel like a stranger to me.” “The old you was kind and tolerant, helping everyone in need. But now, how did you become so…” I clenched my fingertips, interrupting him. “You said it yourself, that was before.” “I’ve changed, happy now?” The living room fell silent. I threw the marriage certificate in front of him, looking calmly into his eyes. “Let’s go get a divorce now.” Ethan was getting frantic. “How many times do I have to say it? I won’t divorce you.” “Why can you give up our thirteen years of feelings so easily!” I raised my hand and slapped him across the face, choking out with red eyes, “You gave up first.” I knocked his hearing aids to the ground. Ethan covered his face in a daze, speechless for a long time. He silently bent down to pick up the hearing aids and put them on. Ignoring my resistance, he pulled me into his arms. “I’m really in a difficult position. Can you understand me a little, wifey?” Dull pain spread across my chest. I wanted to push him away, but my body felt too heavy to lift my hands. “Chloe is young and fragile inside. Encountering something like this, she easily thinks dark thoughts…” “I’ll accompany her for a while first. Once her condition improves, we’ll make plans.” “In the future, can you stay away from her?” I felt like I was struck by lightning, speechless for a moment. The abrupt ringing of the phone interrupted us. Ethan took out his phone in confusion and swiped to answer. The next second, his pupils shook violently. “What did you say!” 3 Chloe was in a car accident. Ethan dragged me to the hospital. Before entering the ward, Ethan instructed me with a serious face: “Apologize to Chloe later.” I frowned. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” Ethan explained to me with a tired and helpless look: “If you hadn’t hurt Chloe, would she have gotten into a car accident?” I laughed out of anger. Inside the ward, Chloe whimpered painfully and called weakly towards the door: “Ethan, Sarah, don’t fight because of me.” “I’m fine with anything… as long as it doesn’t affect your relationship.” Ethan forcefully pulled me in. “Quick, apologize to Chloe.” Sharp pain shot through my arm. I shook off Ethan’s hand. “You two slept together. What did I do wrong? Why should I apologize!” Chloe’s face instantly turned pale, her shoulders trembling as she started to cry. “My purity is gone…” “My parents will beat me to death. I can’t get married anymore…” Ethan glared at me. “Sarah!” “With my purity gone, I might as well die.” Chloe looked like she wanted to get out of bed with empty eyes. Ethan hurriedly held her in his arms, preventing her from getting out of bed. Chloe buried her face in Ethan’s chest, clutching his clothes, crying like a pear blossom bathed in rain. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t need you to care.” “Just let me die. What’s the point of living!” Ethan stroked the top of Chloe’s head with heartache. “I’ll take responsibility. Trust me.” My vision went black, and I felt pain in all my internal organs. “Ethan!” Ethan, with his back to me, stiffened and took off his hearing aids. Chloe, crying out of breath, wrapped her arms around his waist. I didn’t have the courage to watch any longer. Clutching my aching chest, I left with heavy steps. It was already dark when I got home. I sat on the sofa with a splitting headache. My tears had dried up, and my throat was too hoarse to speak. Ethan called me. After connecting, there was silence on the other end. After a long while, he spoke with a hoarse voice: “Sorry, I was impulsive just now.” “I’m almost home. I bought you a gift. Let’s have a good talk later.” “Stop treating Chloe like that. She’s the victim.” “Apologize to her properly tomorrow, and don’t appear in front of her again in the future.” I gripped the phone tightly and spoke with difficulty: “Do you remember what day it is today?” The other end fell silent again. “Talk when I get home.” The call ended. I slid weakly from the sofa to the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something under the sofa. I subconsciously reached out and pulled it out. It was a file folder with the logo of the Shen Group. The Shen Group is a rising corporation in recent years. It is said that their boss, like Ethan, is hearing impaired. Turning the folder over, Ethan’s name was written on the back. I frowned and opened the folder. Inside was a thick stack of bidding documents. Opening the bidding documents, my face instantly turned pale. Eager to verify, I took out my phone and searched for the CEO of the Shen Group. The webpage was clean; nothing could be found. A flash of inspiration struck, and I clicked on Chloe’s WeChat Moments. 【March 25th】 【Bags cure all diseases. Thanks to a certain bro who prefers to remain anonymous.】 The picture was a cute selfie of her carrying the latest top luxury bag. Zooming in on the picture with two fingers, there was an all-too-familiar hand in the bottom right corner. Only, he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. My fingers trembled as I continued to scroll down. 【March 1st】 【The necklace matches my outfit today perfectly. Thanks to Boss Shen for caring about his little assistant.】 The picture was of her wearing a white dress and a pink diamond necklace. Boss Shen, little assistant. The string in my brain snapped. I had mentioned this necklace to Ethan once. I liked this style very much, but its price of 5.2 million was an astronomical figure for me now. Ethan joked that he would buy me one when he got rich in the future. But now it was worn around Chloe’s neck. 4 In my memory, Ethan was an orphan, very poor, so poor that he relied on student loans and part-time jobs for college. When he first started college, he only had an old-style phone, and his lunch and dinner were plain steamed buns. He couldn’t afford hearing aids and had difficulty communicating with classmates, always alone. As the class monitor, I felt sorry for him and paid for his first pair of hearing aids. After graduation, Ethan had a job but was still poor as a church mouse. He was so poor that my parents didn’t want me to marry him. But I still resolutely got the marriage license with him. To prove a point, I never asked for a penny from my family. The new pair of hearing aids on his ears now were also bought by me. But according to the timeline of the Shen Group’s founding, Ethan became rich a year after graduation. Yet he still lied to me that he was poor, unwilling to even pay for a wedding. The apartment we lived in was rented. Thinking back, Ethan always asked me for money with various excuses. My monthly salary was spent on the family and him. And I never saw his salary. Severe pain came from my heart. I clutched the fabric on my chest, cold sweat seeping from my forehead, a sense of suffocation surging towards me. I fumbled for a plastic bag and put it over my mouth, breathing heavily to prevent fainting from hyperventilation. Ethan called me just then. “Sarah, I’m not coming back for now. Chloe is threatening suicide; I have to stay with her.” Ignoring what he was saying, the survival instinct in my mind forced me to ask him for help: “Ethan, I feel so bad, come back quickly.” Ethan’s voice was full of exhaustion: “Sarah, stop pretending.” “Chloe’s situation is really critical right now. If I don’t go, she’ll die.” “Stop making a scene, okay? I’ll accompany you after I deal with this.” Before I could speak, he quickly hung up the phone. I looked at the phone screen desolately. My ex-boyfriend’s message popped up: 【Sarah, I’m almost there】 After recovering a bit, I propped myself up. I found Ethan’s bank card from the cabinet and opened the balance inquiry page on the computer. I typed the password with trembling fingers. Because of nervousness, I typed it wrong several times. After unlocking it, I froze on the spot. The long string of zeros after the bank account made my ten-year marriage seem particularly ridiculous. My legs went weak, and I fell to the ground. Tears blurred my vision. Together for thirteen years… Ethan had been lying to me all along. I bit my lip hard and climbed up from the ground. Operating the computer, I transferred half the money from Ethan’s card. The phone popped up a new message: 【Sarah, I’m here】 I stumbled, supporting myself against the wall, to the balcony. My childhood sweetheart, Leo Lu, stood under the streetlamp in a black suit, his car parked beside him. Not seeing him for thirteen years, he had matured a lot, with a touch of melancholy in his eyes, no longer the sunny boy from before. Perhaps sensing my gaze, he suddenly looked up, meeting my eyes. Driving all the way from home, Leo’s eyes were bloodshot. In an instant, my nose soured, and tears started falling again. Leo panicked a bit and walked quickly upstairs. I opened the door and crashed into a warm embrace. Leo hugged me tightly. The accumulated grievances finally couldn’t be held back at this moment. Leo patted my back gently, soothing me with a hoarse voice: “I’m here, don’t cry.” “No matter what happens, I’m here.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388526”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My year-end bonus finally came through. Three hundred for me, eighteen thousand for everyone else. My general manager, Mr. Wang, clapped me on the shoulder, his smile dripping with false sincerity. “Claire, you’re young. Don’t focus on the money. Focus on the platform we provide.” I smiled back, nodded, and accepted the pathetically thin red envelope. A week later, my contract expired. The company did not renew it. On the day I left, Mr. Wang was popping champagne to celebrate. His phone, however, wouldn’t stop ringing. 01 The red envelope, stamped with the company’s gold-foil logo, lay in my palm, as light and brittle as a dead leaf. Three hundred dollars. The number registered in my brain without stirring a single emotion, just a pool of stagnant, silent water. I walked back to my desk, a forgotten island in a sea of files and sticky notes, tucked away in a neglected corner. The air was thick with the scent of celebration—a heady mix of perfume, coffee, and money. “Holy crap, eighteen thousand! Hermès bag, here I come!” “Where are we celebrating tonight? Three-Michelin-star, nothing less!” “My husband just called and told me to transfer it to him for the mortgage, lol.” Faces, distorted with excitement, swam before my eyes. They held up their phones like victory flags, the glaring bank transfer notifications a testament to their triumph. I sat down, a blank expression on my face, a spectator at a feast that had nothing to do with me. Mark, the colleague who loved to dump his grunt work on me, made a point of sauntering past my desk. He held his new iPhone so close to my face I could see the pixels, the “180,000.00” on the screen cranked to maximum brightness. “Hey, Claire, got yours?” he drawled, his voice slick with smug satisfaction. I didn’t look up. My eyes were fixed on the dusty keyboard in front of me. “I did.” “In this economy, for the company to be so generous… we really picked the right team.” He lingered, his voice just loud enough for the surrounding cluster of desks to hear. “It all comes down to ability, you know? The capable ones do more work. But sometimes, it’s just luck. Can’t expect a free ride forever.” Every word was a poisoned needle, aimed directly at me. A few stifled snickers rippled through the air. My fingers, resting on the keyboard, curled into a fist. My nails dug into my palm, a sharp, grounding pain. I still didn’t look up. I just opened my laptop. The screen flickered to life, reflecting my plain face and black-rimmed glasses, my expression a perfect mask of indifference. Ping. Ping. Ping. The department’s group chat was blowing up. It was the general manager, Mr. Wang. He’d sent a huge digital red envelope with the caption, “Great work, team! Let’s keep the party going tonight!” The chat was instantly flooded with “Thank you, Mr. Wang!” and “You’re the best, boss!” stickers. I tapped on the envelope. “Too slow. All envelopes have been claimed.” I closed the app, glanced at the member list. Mr. Wang had tagged everyone. Everyone except me. It wasn’t an oversight. It was deliberate. A public execution, carried out by a man in a position of power. He wanted everyone to know that I, Claire Chen, was insignificant. A heavy, cold stone settled in my chest. The internal office phone on my desk let out a piercing ring. “Claire, Client A’s system crashed again. Handle it. Their CEO is furious.” It was Mark’s voice, laced with impatient authority. Client A was notoriously difficult. Their system was ancient, plagued with problems. A cursed project no one wanted to touch. Whenever trouble brewed, the mess landed squarely on my desk. “Okay,” I said, a single word, and hung up. I opened the CRM, pulled up all of Client A’s files, and started analyzing the problem. In the bottom right corner of my screen, an inconspicuous icon began to flash. It was Sarah from administration. “Claire, don’t let them get to you. They’ve all lost their minds.” In this cold, sterile office, Sarah was the only one who called me by my first name. Seeing her warm message, my frozen heart stirred with a faint pulse. I typed back. “It’s okay, Sarah. I’m used to it.” Was I really? Or was I just numb? Numb to the pain, numb to the anger. I closed the chat window and navigated to a deeply encrypted folder on my D drive. Inside, there was only one file. I opened it. A dense spreadsheet filled the screen. Client Name, Project Details, Order Value, Key Contacts, Private Phone Numbers, Family Birthdays, Children’s Hobbies… For three years, every single deal I had personally closed, every client I had personally nurtured—it was all here. This was the data behind Mr. Wang’s “glorious achievements” in his reports, the ammunition he used to curry favor with the higher-ups. This was my final hand. After I was done, the group chat lit up again. Mr. Wang had posted: “To celebrate our department’s record-breaking performance, all expenses tonight are on me! We’re not going home sober!” Another wave of fawning praise followed. I opened the text box and typed a few words. “Mr. Wang, I’m not feeling well. I’d like to request leave from the dinner tonight.” I hit send. No reply. As expected. I shut down my computer and started to pack my things. There wasn’t much to pack. A few technical books, a three-year-old mug, and a dying potted plant. I placed the books in a cardboard box and picked up the mug. The company logo, a gift from my first day, was faded and barely legible. For three years, I had been like that logo, my presence here growing fainter and fainter, until I had almost disappeared completely. I opened a drawer and took out a pre-prepared handover document, placing it on the desk. It detailed the procedural steps for all the work I was responsible for. As for why those clients would call my personal phone with a problem at two in the morning… As for why the most demanding client would only accept proposals written by me… As for the “special relationships” that were maintained through personal care and favors… Sorry. Not a word of that was in the handover document. I threw the dying plant into the trash, along with three years of frustration and resentment. 02 In the final week before my contract expired, Mr. Wang’s exploitation reached a fever pitch. He summoned me to his office, a corner suite with a panoramic view of the city’s financial district. Sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, so bright it hurt my eyes. He leaned back in his expensive leather chair, his fingers drumming a light rhythm on the polished mahogany desk. “Claire, this project is yours.” He pushed a thick file across the desk. The cover read: “Apex Group Strategic Partnership Proposal.” Apex Group. The company’s largest, most important, and most difficult client. I opened the file. After two pages, my heart sank. It was a new, incredibly complex, custom request involving multiple technical hurdles. And the client wanted to see a complete first draft in three days. Three days. It was an impossible task. This wasn’t just exploitation; it was sabotage. “Mr. Wang, three days is too tight. The technical feasibility study alone will…” “Claire.” Mr. Wang cut me off, that signature, knowing smile plastered on his face again. “I know it’s difficult. That’s why it’s a test.” He stood up, walked around the desk, and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder once more. “You’re young. Don’t be so quick to say no. The company has invested so much in you. It’s time we see what you’re really made of.” He leaned in closer, his voice low, laced with the smell of stale liquor and hypocrisy. “Your contract is up soon. Whether or not we renew it depends on your performance this time.” A naked threat, sugar-coated with the word “test.” My stomach churned. I didn’t argue. I just picked up the file, which felt as heavy as a block of lead. “I’ll do my best.” As I left his office, Mark immediately appeared at my side, his face a mask of undisguised glee. “Congrats, Claire. Mr. Wang is giving you a real opportunity. Work hard, and you might just get to stay.” His voice was low, but loud enough for the whole office to hear. Everyone was watching me, as if I were a character in a play. Pity, mockery, indifference. Their gazes wove a giant net, trapping me in the center. I returned to my desk and dropped the file with a dull thud. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that Mr. Wang had no intention of renewing my contract. He just wanted to squeeze every last drop of value out of me before tossing me aside like trash. If I succeeded with this project, the credit would be his—a testament to his “strong leadership and capable team.” If I failed, the blame would be mine—proof of my “incompetence and inability to perform.” I was the final stepping stone in his climb to the top. I opened my laptop and stared at the impossible task before me. I felt no anger, no despair. Just a terrifying, preternatural calm. For the next three days, I became a ghost in the office. During the day, I sat at my desk, organizing files and dealing with the miscellaneous tasks Mark and the others threw my way. At night, when the office was empty, filled only with the hum of the air conditioning, my real work began. Sarah couldn’t stand to watch. At eleven o’clock one night, she placed a hot cup of coffee on my desk. “Claire, stop. It’s not worth it.” She looked at my bloodshot eyes, her face full of concern. “You’re going to ruin your health for this company, and who’s going to care?” I took the coffee. The warmth from the mug spread through my fingertips but didn’t reach my heart. I managed a tired smile. “It’s okay, Sarah. Just seeing things through to the end.” She sighed and didn’t press further, just quietly cleared away the empty takeout containers on my desk. After she left, I didn’t open the complex project file. I picked up my phone and dialed a number. The contact name was “Mr. Miller – Apex.” The call was answered quickly. A steady, slightly weary voice came through the line. “Hello?” “Mr. Miller, good evening. This is Claire Chen.” “Oh, Claire,” his tone immediately warmed. “It’s late. Is everything alright?” “Mr. Miller, I wanted to confirm a few technical details about the new strategic partnership proposal directly with you, to make sure we’re on the right track.” I didn’t bother with any so-called corporate procedures, because I knew that for Mr. Miller of Apex Group, I, Claire Chen, was the most efficient procedure. For the past three years, every time their internal system had an emergency failure, no matter the time of night, I was the one who responded immediately, solving the problem remotely. Every time they had a wild, blue-sky idea, I was the one who stayed up all night creating a prototype that matched their vision. His trust was never in my company; it was in me. “Of course. Go ahead.” Over the next hour, I worked directly with the project’s final decision-maker to hammer out all the core details and technical pathways. He’d raise a technical challenge, and I’d immediately offer three viable solutions. I’d mention a resource constraint, and he’d immediately approve the allocation of internal group resources to support it. Everything that Mr. Wang saw as a “barrier” or a “challenge” was, for me, simply a problem to be solved. Three days later, as the first rays of dawn streamed into the empty office, I printed out a one-hundred-and-twenty-page, flawless proposal. I placed it neatly on Mr. Wang’s desk. Then, I went back to my own computer and selected all the folders I had created for the “Apex Project” over the past few days. They contained all my notes, technical prototypes, communication records with Mr. Miller, and the final source files for the proposal. I hit “Delete.” And then, I emptied the recycling bin. All traces were gone. At ten in the morning, a beaming Mr. Wang strode into the office. He saw the proposal on his desk, flipped through a few pages, his satisfaction practically radiating from him. He walked to the center of the office and cleared his throat. “Everyone, I have some great news! The Apex project… our team has, against all odds, secured it!” “This proposal is outstanding. It perfectly showcases our department’s incredible strength and professionalism!” A round of thunderous applause erupted. He basked in the praise and adulation, never once looking in my direction, never once mentioning my name. It was as if the proposal had sprouted from his desk on its own. He clutched the document, the result of my three sleepless nights, like a trophy and marched proudly toward the senior executive’s office. I watched his retreating back, my eyes cold and empty. I knew that the final tie between me and this company had just been severed. By my own hand. 03 The day my contract expired, the weather was beautiful. The sky was a washed-out blue, clear and cloudless. At ten in the morning, an email from HR appeared in my inbox. “Dear Ms. Chen, due to business adjustments, your employment contract will not be renewed upon its expiration today. Please complete all departure procedures by 5:00 PM. Thank you for your three years of service.” Cold, corporate jargon, without a single extraneous punctuation mark. I read the email once, then again, and then deleted it. The office was a hive of activity, or at least, feigned activity. No one looked at me. No one spoke to me. I was an invisible woman, about to evaporate from this space. Only Sarah came over and gently patted my shoulder, saying nothing. But the warmth of her hand let me know I hadn’t been completely forgotten. Mr. Wang didn’t even show his face today. He probably didn’t see the need. Or the worth. A tool, used and discarded. Why bother with a final glance? At three in the afternoon, my phone vibrated. A text from Mr. Wang. “Wishing you a bright future.” Four words, as if they’d been fished out of an icebox. I stared at the message for a few seconds, didn’t reply, and just long-pressed to delete it. The departure process was unnervingly smooth. Hand in my badge, sign the papers, receive my proof of employment. Everyone I interacted with offered a professional, soulless smile. As if I were just a visitor, not an employee who had poured three years of her life into this place. I walked out of the office carrying a small cardboard box. Inside was just a book, a mug, and my personal notebook. I had arrived with nothing, and I was leaving with not much more. As I passed through the large glass doors, I paused instinctively and looked back. A grand champagne party was in full swing. Mr. Wang stood at the center of the crowd, radiating success. He raised his champagne flute high, his voice booming with unshakeable pride. “Everyone! I have some incredible news!” “Because our team did such an outstanding job securing the Apex Group project, creating immense value for the company, I have just been appointed by the board as the Vice President for the Southern Region!” A roar of applause and cheers erupted in the office. Streamers and confetti rained down, a surreal, theatrical display. Everyone crowded around Mr. Wang, toasting him, showering him with flattery. He stood in the spotlight, basking in his moment of glory. A pedestal I had built for him, piece by piece. My gaze cut through the noisy crowd and landed on his face, flushed red with excitement. I smiled. A genuine smile. There was no bitterness, no resentment. Just the cold, detached amusement of watching a clown perform. I turned and walked away, not looking back. The warm sunlight fell on me, chasing away the chill that had settled in my bones for three years. I hailed a taxi at the curb. As I settled into the back seat, I took out my phone, opened my contacts, and found the number for “Mr. Miller – Apex.” I composed a text message. “Mr. Miller, I have resigned from my previous company as of today. Thank you for all your support. I wish you all the best.” I hit send. Almost instantly, my phone buzzed. A reply from Mr. Miller. “Claire, where are you headed next? I’ll only work with you from now on. Give me a call when you have a moment.” I read the message, the smile on my face deepening. Next, I opened my messaging app and selected a group I had named “Core Clients.” There were ninety-nine contacts in it. Every single one of them was what Mr. Wang referred to as his “most important resources.” I typed the same message and sent it as a mass text. Outside the car window, the city’s skyscrapers flew by. I knew that a storm was about to break in the glittering glass tower I had just left behind. 04 Mr. Wang’s celebration was at its peak. Champagne bubbles danced in crystal flutes, reflecting his glistening, self-satisfied face. “To our glorious future! Cheers!” He raised his glass, ready for another round of adulation. Just then, a shrill, insistent ringing cut through the joyful noise like a knife. It was his personal phone. Mr. Wang frowned, annoyed by the interruption, and glanced at the caller ID. “Apex Group – Mr. Miller.” The annoyance on his face was instantly replaced by a fawning smile. “Excuse me, everyone. A call from our most important client, no doubt to congratulate us.” He preened under the envious gazes of his colleagues and sauntered to a corner to take the call. “Hello, Mr. Miller! You’ve got great timing, I was just…” His enthusiastic greeting was cut short by an icy voice on the other end. “Mr. Wang, I am officially informing you that Apex Group is terminating all existing and future business with your company, effective immediately.” The smile on Mr. Wang’s face froze, like a cheap wax figure melting under a hot lamp. “Mr… Mr. Miller? What do you mean? We just signed the strategic partnership…” “You lost your most important asset.” The voice on the other end was devoid of emotion, like a judge reading a verdict. “That’s all.” Beep… beep… beep… The line went dead. Mr. Wang stood frozen, phone in hand, his mind a complete blank. Most important asset? What did that even mean? Before he could process the shock, the phones in the office began to ring, one after another, as if a switch had been flipped. His work phone, his assistant’s phone, the main company line at the front desk… Suddenly, the office was filled with a frantic, heart-stopping cacophony of ringing. “Hello, this is…” “Hello, this is Eastward Tech. I’m calling to inform you that we are cancelling all our current orders.” “What? Why?” “No reason.” Mark hung up one call, his face pale, only for another to immediately come in. “Hi, this is the procurement manager from Blue Ocean Logistics. We will not be renewing our contract for the next quarter.” “Mr. Lee! Mr. Lee! Please, let me explain!” “There’s nothing to explain. We only deal with Claire.” “Claire?” One by one, familiar names echoed from the other end of the line. Apex Group. Eastward Tech. Blue Ocean Logistics. … These were the crown jewels of Mr. Wang’s presentations, the “loyal clients” he had bragged about countless times. And now, as if by a coordinated signal, they were delivering the fatal blow in the coldest way possible. Terminating partnerships. Cancelling orders. The smell of champagne still hung in the air, but the laughter and celebration had been replaced by a dead silence. Only the incessant ringing of the phones, like a death knell, echoed in the hearts of everyone present. The women’s faces were stricken with panic, the men were at a complete loss. The subordinates who had been fawning over Mr. Wang just moments before now avoided him like the plague. Mr. Wang collapsed into his leather office chair, his eyes vacant. His assistant, trembling, handed him an emergency report. His gaze fell on the list of client names, crossed out in red ink, searing his eyes. These were the “connections” and “achievements” he had been so proud of. He had always believed these clients were loyal to him, to the company’s platform. Now, he was discovering just how wrong he had been. “Claire…” He mumbled her name, a dazed, uncomprehending sound. He suddenly remembered something and, like a drowning man grasping at a straw, began frantically searching his phone for Claire’s contact information. Just then, with a loud bang, the door to the senior executive’s office was kicked open. The company founder, a normally composed man in his sixties, was red-faced, his eyes blazing with a rage that was almost palpable. He stormed up to Mr. Wang and slammed another report onto his face. The papers scattered to the floor like a flurry of hopeless snow. “Wang!” The founder’s voice trembled with fury. “Is this your idea of a huge success?!” “Is this the regional vice presidency you brought me?!” “Half of the company’s orders… gone! In one afternoon!”

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This summer, my mom forced a blind date on me. I refused, flat out. But my entire family ganged up on me, a relentless barrage of texts and calls insisting he was an honest, decent guy—the kind you couldn’t find even if you searched with a lantern. With their blessing and encouragement, this man forced his way into my life. He sold my limited-edition perfumes, my custom-made historical gowns, my jewelry, all for pennies on the dollar on eBay. For the sake of family harmony, I endured it. Until he got rid of my cat. The cat I’d had for seven years. My lifeline. In that moment, the dormant madness in my blood awakened. If you won’t let me live, then none of us will. 1 Only two children remained in the after-school classroom. My phone vibrated. The screen lit up with a text from Mark. Just seeing his name made my stomach churn. This summer, my mom had bullied me into a blind date. Mark, thirty, a grade school gym teacher, looked decent enough on the surface. I’d rejected him on the spot, telling him I had no interest in getting married. But it was like he didn’t understand English. He immediately turned his attention to charming my mother. Fixing leaky pipes, changing lightbulbs, gossiping with her for hours. My mom was completely won over. She gave him the spare key to my apartment. I tapped on the text message. The words leaped off the screen. [Sarah, that cat of yours seemed like bad luck, so I took care of it.] A roaring filled my ears. It was followed by a series of long voice messages. I played them, and the sound, harsh and loud, echoed in the empty classroom. “A cat that eats hundreds of dollars’ worth of food a month? That’s just wasteful.” “We’re going to build a life together. We need to save that money for our future kids.” “Also, your mom and I discussed it.” “Starting next month, you’ll hand over your paycheck to me.” “It’s not good for a woman to have too much money. They tend to spend it foolishly.” “If you need to buy something, just write me a list. I’ll approve it.” Approve it? Who the hell did he think he was? I dialed his number immediately. “Sorry, the user you are trying to reach is currently busy.” He was on another call. I immediately called my mother. It rang twice, then disconnected. I tried again. Straight to voicemail. My fingers went cold. Snowball wasn’t just a cat. She was my reason for living. In my junior year of college, I was diagnosed with severe depression. I came close to jumping from my dorm room window. It was Snowball who bit onto the cuff of my jeans, pulling me back with all her might. She had stayed with me through countless sleepless nights, licking away my tears. And now, Mark had “taken care of her”? I turned to the two children still hunched over their homework. “I have an emergency. How much longer until your parents get here?” One of the boys looked up. “My dad just texted. He’s downstairs.” The other girl said timidly, “My mom will be another ten minutes.” I couldn’t wait. I asked Mrs. Evans from the classroom next door, who was still packing up, to watch the girl. I grabbed my bag and bolted. The elevator was on the top floor and wasn’t moving. I spun around and burst into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time while sending Mark a frantic voice message. “Mark! Where is Snowball?” “If you’ve laid a single finger on her, I will kill you!” I burst out of the building and hailed a taxi. “The Willows apartments, and step on it!” The car sped off. Mark replied. It was a picture. An empty cat carrier, tossed next to a dumpster on the side of the road. [It’s just an animal. Why are you getting so worked up?] [Sarah, you’re too emotional. How are you going to raise children like this?] I stared at the photo, my eyes burning. I recognized that dumpster. It was right outside my apartment building. Not only had he been in my home, he had thrown my family in the trash. My eyes stung, but I didn’t cry. In moments of pure rage, tears don’t come. Only the urge to kill. The taxi screeched to a halt. I threw a hundred-dollar bill at the driver without waiting for the change. I sprinted into the complex, straight for the dumpster. The carrier was there, but the cat was gone. I searched frantically, tearing through the surrounding area. The bushes… under the cars… the flowerbeds… “Snowball! Snowball!” My voice was raw. No response. Usually, the moment I called her name, she would come running, meowing and rubbing against my legs. Now, there was only a dead, heavy silence. The only sound was the rustle of leaves in the wind. I stood under a streetlight, my shadow a distorted, monstrous thing. My phone vibrated again. Mark: [Stop looking. I drove her to the river and set her free.] [If we’re going to make a clean break with the past, it has to be a clean break.] [And don’t blame me. Your mother approved it.] The river? Snowball had always been frail, and easily frightened. Leaving her by the river was a death sentence. My hand tightened around my phone, my vision turning red. If you won’t let me live in peace, then tonight, no one is going to sleep well. 2 The last six months had been a living nightmare. Mark was like a piece of gum stuck to my shoe, impossible to get rid of. With my mother’s backing, he had invaded my life without a shred of decency. The first time, he had picked the lock to my apartment. I came home from work to find him sitting on my sofa, cracking sunflower seeds, the shells scattered all over the floor. I called the police. The police came, and so did my mother. She pointed a finger at my nose and screamed, “You ungrateful child! He’s your boyfriend! What’s wrong with him coming to see you?” “And you called the police? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” The police, seeing it was a domestic dispute, mumbled some platitudes and left. The second time, I came home to find my perfume cabinet empty. It was a collection I had spent three years curating—limited editions, discontinued fragrances, and a few custom historical gowns. It was worth thousands of dollars. I confronted Mark. He was indignant. “What’s the point of all that junk?” “I sold it for you. The money’s safe with me.” “We’ll need it when we get married, for the down payment on a house, for renovations.” “Sarah, you need to learn to be practical, not waste your time on such frivolous things.” I was shaking with rage. I told him to give me the money. My mother chimed in from the side. “Mark’s right! You’ve always been a spendthrift.” “The money is safer with him. It can be your dowry.” I should have taken a knife to him then and there. But I held back. I thought, as long as I don’t agree to marry him, he’ll eventually give up. I was wrong. With a bully, tolerance is encouragement. My restraint had only emboldened him. And now, he had laid his hands on Snowball. The riverbank was a vast, dark expanse. It could take me a whole day to search it all. For Snowball’s sake, I went straight to my mother’s building. This apartment was once my home. Now, it was Mark’s sanctuary. Standing in front of the security door, I took a deep breath. I could hear the television, and laughter. It was Mark’s voice. “Mom, look at this comedian. He’s hilarious.” “And your cooking is amazing. So much better than any restaurant.” My mother’s delighted laughter. “If you like it, eat more. You can come for dinner every night.” What a warm, loving family. A picture of domestic bliss. The loving mother and her filial son-in-law. And I was the unwanted outsider. I took out my key and slid it into the lock. The people inside seemed to hear the noise. Mark’s voice stopped. “Is that Sarah?” My mother scoffed. “Good. She’s back. She needs to be taught a lesson.” “Treating a cat like it’s royalty. It’s ridiculous.” The door opened. Mark was sprawled on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. My mother sat beside him, peeling an apple for him. My father was in the armchair, reading a newspaper. When they saw me, Mark didn’t even move. He just looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Well, well, look who’s here. Back from your little adventure?” “Did you find your precious furball?” My face was a thundercloud as I strode into the center of the living room. My mother frowned, about to launch into a tirade. “Where is Snowball?” I stared at Mark, my gaze unwavering. He took a bite of the apple with a loud crunch, chewing with relish. “Didn’t I tell you? The river.” “I don’t remember the exact spot. I just threw her out.” “It’s just an animal. Is it really worth all this drama?” My mother slammed the fruit knife on the table. “Sarah! Look at yourself! What have you become?” “You walk in here with that long face, who do you think you are?” “Mark did this for your own good!” “That cat is full of germs! What about when you get pregnant?” “It’s gone. We can just buy you a toy cat.” For my own good? I looked at the woman who had given birth to me, who had raised me. She was a stranger. A complete and utter stranger. She had never once asked me what I wanted. Only if Mark was satisfied. In her version of my life, I was just a prop, a means to an end to fulfill her grand plan of “daughter gets married and has babies.” “I’ll ask you one more time.” “Where. Is. Snowball?” I pulled a box cutter from my bag. The blade glinted in the light. The air in the room instantly froze. The newspaper slipped from my father’s hands. “Sarah, what are you doing? Put that down!” Mark stared for a second, then let out a derisive snort. “Who are you trying to scare?” “Sarah, you don’t have the guts to kill someone.” He stood up, his six-foot frame towering over me. “Go on. Do it. Right here,” he said, pointing to his chest. “If you don’t, you’re a coward.” My mother rushed over, her hand raised to strike me. “You rebellious brat! How dare you threaten your husband with a knife?” “Put it down!” Her hand connected with my cheek. A sharp, stinging pain. The force of the blow snapped my head to the side. I tasted blood. Slowly, I turned my head back, and a slow, cold smile spread across my face. 3 “I’m not kidding.” The tip of my blade was pointed steadily at Mark. The amusement on his face deepened. “Sarah, you’re really committed to this act, aren’t you?” “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you.” He sauntered over, his face close to mine. He lowered his voice, speaking in a whisper only I could hear. “I tied a big rock to that little beast.” “Dropped it right under the Bridgeview Road overpass.” “It made a nice little ‘plop’ sound. Sank real fast.” “Probably all bloated by now.” My Snowball. She was terrified of water. Even a bath made her howl. How desperate must she have been, in that dark, cold river? Was she waiting for me to save her? But she couldn’t wait any longer… I plunged the box cutter forward.

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I used to be a famous princess in the entertainment industry. Relying on my money power, I collaborated with all the popular stars. After satisfying my acting addiction, I ran away non-stop. In less than a year, a nepotism baby dominated the screen. Countless messages flooded under my Weibo: 【Begging the princess to return.】 1 While having afternoon tea on a private island. I accidentally clicked on my Weibo. Because I was scolded badly, I rarely clicked on it usually. Seeing 999+, realizing it wasn’t good, I wanted to close the page, but accidentally opened the comments. Done for, a beautiful day is about to end here. I frowned tightly, but didn’t see any foul language. 【Sister, if you overthrow Chloe Jiang, you deserve to be enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple!!】 【Snatch Chloe Jiang’s resources!! Sis!!】 【Seems the entertainment industry is really chaotic without Victoria Zhou, begging the princess to return!】 This… who bought water army (paid internet trolls) for me, thinking I wasn’t scolded badly enough? Too sincere! Even bought membership. I found it a bit funny. Took a screenshot and shared it in my fan group of only ten people. Unexpectedly, my fans saw me appear and sent me messages crazily. 【Sis Vic, your good days are coming!】 【Chloe Jiang replaced you as the shame of forced promotion! Sis work harder, let’s make a comeback!】 Chloe Jiang? This name is a bit familiar. When I was blacked by the whole nation before, I checked the source of brainless blacking, it was this name. I searched online. Turns out to be a new shame of forced promotion, holding female lead roles of more than a dozen IPs. Fans of stars about to collaborate with her all went dark in their eyes. She wasn’t even from a professional background, but backed by a dad who opened a film and television company. So she collaborated with many popular stars. Fans described the act of being forced to watch Chloe Jiang to support their idols as “eating sh*t with tears”. In just a few dozen minutes, I watched more than a dozen famous scenes of Chloe Jiang’s acting. Netizens all said she acted like an AI, even blinking revealed a dullness. I seem… indeed better than her. If she can act, why can’t I? Just right, settle new and old accounts together. So I posted a Weibo after a year. 【Chapter 1, Returning Home.】 2 I have been interested in acting since I was young. After finishing my acting major abroad, I prepared to return to the country. But don’t know who found out I was going to act, as soon as I got off the plane, I was surrounded by reporters. At the same time, countless scripts flew into my email. Among them were many from domestic big directors. Family members all advised me not to act, tired and bitter, and subject to audience scrutiny. But I was bent on pursuing my dream. Media reports misled me into thinking the entertainment industry welcomed me very much. Didn’t expect it was a kind of killing with kindness (捧杀 – praise to kill). Everything was because I am the daughter of the Zhou Group. I picked a few scripts with good production teams. After filming, before airing, I faced a boycott from the whole network. 【Speechless, can capitalists not poison the big screen.】 【As expected of a princess, even Director Zhang can only invite her as the female lead, reputation ruined in old age.】 【Victoria Zhou get out of the entertainment industry!!】 The result was natural. The two TV dramas I acted in had mediocre ratings. Especially in the first drama, my acting wasn’t that mature yet, not very adapted to the filming environment. So was laughed at for facial paralysis acting. Because of anxiety, my face was swollen then, and the audience said I was ugly again. It took a month to adapt before getting better. Unfortunately, the few tap water (spontaneous fans) speaking for me were labeled as “water army”. Later the movie I filmed was quite competitive and rushed to the first place in the box office list. But my reputation still didn’t reverse. Especially after I was nominated for Best Actress with this movie. Those anti-fans’ mouths became even sharper. Saying I relied on my dad to buy the award. Heaven and earth conscience, because of my obsession with acting, I quarreled with my family several times. My dad wouldn’t care about me on this matter. After satisfying my acting addiction, I ran away overnight, ignoring how netizens evaluated me. 3 I studied the scripts in Chloe Jiang’s hands. Several female leads have their own growth lines, with great emotional contrast before and after. Chloe Jiang’s acting skills completely can’t master them. If I snatched them, it would count as enforcing justice on behalf of heaven. Among these dozen roles, I fancied a costume drama with a big female lead. And the production team of this drama isn’t Chloe Jiang’s dad’s company. This makes it much easier. With just a phone call, I contacted the director of this crew. The director was in a dilemma, saying Chloe Jiang’s dad invested twenty million. I burst out laughing. Twenty million, I have it too, okay. I directly invested fifty million and became one of the producers of this crew. As long as the drama explodes, isn’t it recovering costs in minutes? That night, I took a photo of the script cover and posted it on Weibo. 【New Beginning.】 With an apprehensive heart, I looked at the comment section. Sure enough, the comment section was peaceful, all supporting me for doing a good job. The matter of snatching the role was also posted on Weibo by Chloe Jiang. 【Virtue not matching position, there must be future disasters.】 She almost named names. But it really sounds like scolding herself. So we two were on the hot search side by side. Chloe Jiang also bought marketing accounts, promoting my history of being blacked wildly before. As I thought, still those few marketing accounts that once brainlessly blacked me. Result the audience didn’t buy it, comment section overturned greatly. 【Big sister, aren’t you a nepotism baby yourself?】 【Speechless, between Chloe Jiang and Victoria Zhou, Victoria Zhou still acts better.】 【Victoria Zhou this person can’t handle, why just snatch one?】 This battle between two people gradually fermented and expanded. Melon-eating netizens began to compare us in all aspects. Some netizens dug out Weibo posts of old artists and popular stars from the same crew helping me speak secretly before. These were either not making waves at the time, or were splashed with dirty water. Now all got vindicated. 4 Seeing the audience’s expectation for me playing this role. I geared up, ready to go big. At the script reading meeting, the main personnel of our production team met for the first time. I looked at the author, thinking the few questions I prepared could finally be asked. But didn’t expect the author just glanced at me, then moved her gaze away indifferently. Midway I left the meeting room for a while, when going back heard the author’s voice from inside. “Director, can’t the main lead be changed?” I stopped my steps, waiting to hear the author’s next words. “My novel is like my child, I can’t accept letting a pure nepotism baby play the character under my pen.” The next voice, however, surprised me even more. “Exactly, only I, can play this role. “Others won’t do.” The voice was spoiled and willful, also revealing soaring confidence. Sis, let’s just say, if you could act this role well, the internet wouldn’t be full of your funny acting compilations. Playing the role well relies on your flying expressions, or your ghost crying and wolf howling. After she finished, the director’s tired voice came online. “Chloe Jiang ah, the wood is already made into a boat (what’s done is done), can’t change anymore, look for you next time if there’s a chance.” “As the author do I have no voice? I think Jiang Jiang is quite sincere.” I stood outside the door, couldn’t help crossing my arms. Before coming, I did homework online. Although Chloe Jiang’s acting is not good, her skill in flattering people is quite good. The author posted gifts Chloe Jiang sent her on Weibo more than once. Either expensive watches, or red wine bought from abroad. No wonder Chloe Jiang took such pains. Because this original work is the most famous among all female leads she snatched, having over a million fans during serialization. So, as soon as this novel was exposed to be remade, fans were wailing. The novel author was also dissatisfied with Chloe Jiang at first. But couldn’t stand Chloe Jiang being so enthusiastic, finally changed her tune to believing Chloe Jiang can work hard. Work hard on what, hard work is not a fig leaf for poor acting. Now the role changed to me making netizens clap and cheer, shows how much netizens reject Chloe Jiang’s acting. Didn’t want to hear them say more. I pushed the door open. Voices in the meeting room stopped abruptly. Chloe Jiang in Chanel style, hair exquisitely permed into curls, she glared at me. Eyes full of dissatisfaction. “Nothing to say, I am one of the three producers of this drama, I say can’t change people, means can’t change people.” Chloe Jiang blushed, raising the phone. I raised my eyebrows. “Or Miss Chloe can also compare with me who invested more.” Hearing this sentence, Chloe Jiang’s movement froze, revealing a gnashing teeth look. Don’t worry, even if teeth are crushed you have to swallow them. You are pushed out by capital power, but I am capital. Hmph, say nepotism baby then nepotism baby for you to see.

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The wedding rehearsal was underway when Liam’s adopted sister, Mia, suddenly gagged. He panicked and rushed her to the hospital. Half an hour later, the call came: “She’s pregnant.” I was about to say congratulations when his voice, frighteningly calm, cut me off: “It’s mine… She broke up with her boyfriend that night, she was soaked from the rain and shivering. I just held her to keep her warm, I didn’t expect…” “We have to keep this from Mom and Dad. I’ll bring her home to take care of her until the baby is born.” “We’ll postpone the wedding for a year. You go explain and apologize to the guests.” My throat tightened; I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. He continued: “Oh, and you need to quit your job immediately. Mia needs someone to take care of her. Nothing can happen in these next few months.” I suddenly laughed: “Okay.” He hung up, satisfied. But he didn’t know about the bet I made with him. If I wasn’t married by thirty, I’d marry him. And today, happened to be my thirtieth birthday. …… Perhaps my calm reaction was too unusual, because three seconds after hanging up, Liam called back. “Chloe, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. But believe me, I only see Mia as a sister. The baby really is an accident.” I laughed self-deprecatingly: “Yeah, deep sibling affection. Keeping warm led to bed. How touching.” There was a noticeable pause on the other end, followed by his helpless sigh: “I understand if you’re angry. You can curse at me, hit me. But Mia is still in school. Unmarried and pregnant, and she can’t even say who the father is…” “She’s an orphan. Although Mom and Dad adopted her and treat her like their own, the Whitman family won’t accept this kind of thing. They’ll definitely kick her out.” “So I hope you can claim the baby as yours. Since you’ll be quitting your job and staying home anyway, no one will suspect it’s not yours.” Looking up to blink back the tears stinging my eyes, I said dryly: “Liam, let’s not get married.” “Not get married?” He was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly roared, “Chloe, are you annoying or what?! Weren’t you the one who said we’ve been dating for five years and pestered me to having the wedding asap?” “Now the whole circle knows you’re my fiancée. Do you think marriage is a game? Chloe, since when did you become so willful?” I could imagine his furrowed brows right now, and sure enough, the next second I heard him threaten: “Princess Chloe, I’m asking you one last time! Do you really not want to get married?!” My fingers gripped the phone tightly, and I gave a bitter smile: “Yeah, I don’t want you anymore, Liam.” He sneered, “I’m not in the mood to deal with your tantrums. Suit yourself!” The phone was hung up harshly. I stood in the middle of the banquet hall, under everyone’s surprised gazes, tore off my veil, turned around and ran out. Liam’s parents quickly blocked my path. His father, Mr. Whitman, spoke first: “Chloe, what kind of crazy fit are you throwing? Just because Liam took his sister to the hospital, you want to ruin this wedding? Let hundreds of guests watch the Whitman family become a laughingstock?” Mrs. Whitman huffed coldly and added: “I said long ago it wasn’t a good match. The Whitman family has generations of scholars, the Carter family is just new money. Not a suitable match at all.” “But Liam insisted, I couldn’t do anything. Look, today it became a joke!” Mr. Whitman sneered: “Good, good! Not getting married is good too. Save her temper from offending people in the future and ruining the Whitman family’s reputation.” Clearly it was Liam who was at fault first, but these two came to blame me instead. I gripped the veil tight, my fingertips trembling: “The wedding was cancelled by Liam. As for the specific reason… you two elders should ask him. I feel ashamed to say it.” Hearing that this was Liam’s idea, they became even more self-righteous. “Even if Liam cancelled it, you as the bride ran away without saying a word? Shouldn’t you apologize to everyone in person?” “How did your parents raise you? You don’t even understand the most basic social etiquette. How can you be the daughter-in-law of my Whitman family?” I took a deep breath: “I won’t marry into the Whitman family. If you two elders have nothing else, please step aside.” “You!” Their faces changed drastically, obviously not expecting the usually docile me to be so tough. I ignored them and walked past them directly towards the dressing room. Mrs. Whitman yelled exasperatedly behind me: “Uneducated thing!” In the dressing room, someone was already waiting there. The fitted sportswear showed off his broad shoulders and long legs. The sunlight hit him from the side, outlining a clean silhouette. Only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him; he probably didn’t sleep well. Seeing me come in, he straightened up with his arms crossed, the familiar, punchable smile on his lips. I turned my face away: “Someone swore they wouldn’t attend my wedding?” He suddenly leaned in, his warm breath sweeping past my ear. The moment our eyes met, I suddenly saw that stubborn boy from ten years ago. “Chloe, a bet’s a bet.” I pursed my lips and didn’t make a sound. He suddenly got anxious: “You forgot?!” “I don’t care, we’re getting married in three days. If you don’t come…” He paused, as if risking everything, “I’ll go to the Carter family and become a live-in son-in-law!” After speaking, as if afraid to hear my rejection, he quickly slipped out the door. I suddenly laughed out loud. This idiot, of course I remember the bet. Our families have been friends for generations, we grew up together, we know each other too well to be lovers. Ten years ago, he confessed to me, I said let’s just be friends. He looked hurt and insisted on making a bet with me. Didn’t expect that in the end, I still lost. Chapter 2 Just changed out of my wedding dress, Liam sent a photo. All my belongings were piled up like trash at the villa door. The red wedding quilt my mom sewed by hand was the most eye-catching, stuffed haphazardly into a transparent plastic bag, the bright red satin hurting my eyes in the sunlight. “Move them away immediately!” “If you don’t want them, I’ll have Mrs. Zhang throw them away.” I stared at the screen, my fingertips cold. He knew how to manipulate me too well. I could leave everything else, but I had to get the wedding quilt back. “Okay, I’m coming.” My mom spent three months making that quilt. Someone who never touched needles and thread, her fingers were pricked full of blood spots. The night before the wedding, she smiled and stuffed the quilt into my arms: “Daughter, be happy forever.” But when I rushed over, the doorway was empty. Only half an hour. I clearly said I would come, was he so impatient to kick me out? Anger suddenly surged up, I pushed open the villa gate and rushed in. The moment I opened the door, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. Mia sat on the edge of the dining table, Liam held her waist with both hands, his cheek pressed against Mia’s bulging belly, his eyes dazzlingly gentle. “Brother,” Mia suddenly cried out softly, “The baby kicked me.” Liam immediately pressed closer, the corner of his mouth raised in an arc I had never seen before: “So naughty, just like you when you were little.” When he looked up, his gaze was so soft it could drip water, “If only the eyes were like yours too.” Mia pursed her lips and smiled. Liam skillfully kissed her lips, his tone suddenly becoming guilty: “Have you really decided to leave after giving birth? Actually… you can stay, I can take care of you and the baby. How can such a small baby be without a biological mother.” Mia put her index finger against his lips and shook her head: “Brother, if I don’t leave, what about Chloe?” Hearing the name “Chloe”, Liam was visibly stunned, then his face darkened: “Her? Saying breakup now is just acting out of spite. When the baby is born, won’t she be begging me to come back and help raise it? A merchant’s daughter like her only sees profit in her eyes, where is the dignity.” “Did you forget how she rushed to be my girlfriend back then? That disgusting face, it makes me sick thinking about it now.” My tears fell silently. It turned out that the confession I mustered up my courage for back then, actually disgusted him for so many years. The Whitman family is the top calligraphy family in the city, Liam is the youngest famous calligrapher in the city. Five years ago, he brought his handwritten calligraphy to my dad to invest in the Gu’s Calligraphy Academy. My dad couldn’t stop praising him and specially introduced him to me. I fell in love with him at first sight and pestered him to learn calligraphy. He pointed at me angrily and scolded: “Stupid, no talent at all!” I grinned playfully: “Then be my boyfriend, we complement each other.” He glanced at Mia who was writing with her head down, suddenly held my hand, and laughed self-deprecatingly: “Alright.” I jumped up happily and hugged him, completely unaware of Mia’s back rushing out, and his instantly stiff arms. Now I understand, his heart has always held Mia. No wonder later he refused to teach me calligraphy, and even forbade me from entering the study. My heart felt bitter, I wanted to turn around and leave, but remembered my mom’s handmade wedding quilt couldn’t be lost. “Chloe!” Liam suddenly turned his head, sarcastically curling the corners of his mouth, “What are you doing sneaking around at the door? Your things have been thrown out for you, regret now?” I pinched my palm hard: “Where’s my wedding quilt? Give it back to me.” He paused, his face colder: “A ragged quilt, I care?” “That was sewn by my mom herself.” My voice started to tremble, “Give it back to me, I’ll leave immediately.” Seeing me about to cry, he frowned: “You’re crying! Are you sick? Is it worth it?” “It is worth it!” I roared, tears finally falling down. Chapter 3 Liam tugged at his bow tie irritably, wanting to speak but stopping. Mia at the side suddenly seemed to remember something and spoke anxiously: “Chloe, don’t yell at brother, I asked the servants to put your things in the guest room.” As she spoke, her fingers gently stroked her belly, tears welled up instantly: “Chloe, can you not move out? If it’s because of this baby… I, I can get an abortion. His arrival was a mistake to begin with, none of you welcome him…” Before she could finish, she was already crying uncontrollably. “Let them try!” Liam’s voice was almost out of control, he trembling hugged Mia tightly into his arms, turning his head to glare viciously at me. “She can leave if she wants, but don’t think about touching my child! Now you and the baby are my everything!” “Chloe, if this is your purpose of coming over, please get out of here!” I sneered and walked straight to the guest room. The wedding quilt was carelessly thrown on the floor, covered in stains and vomit, the original dragon and phoenix embroidery became filthy. I pointed at the quilt with trembling fingers: “Mia, explain this!” She shrunk her neck timidly, “I didn’t mean to, I just suddenly felt nauseous…” Saying that, she was about to bend over to pick it up, “Chloe, don’t be angry, I’ll help you wash it clean.” But just as she bent over, she cried out in pain. “Ah! My stomach hurts so much.” Liam rushed over violently and pushed me to the ground. The back of my head hit the leg of the bed heavily, severe pain exploded, warm liquid flowed down my forehead. I bit my lip without making a sound, just smiled and looked at Liam, wanted to see clearly if he had a heart. He hugged Mia, his cold eyes revealing extreme disgust: “How much? I’ll pay! I beg you, stop pestering us, is it fun to torture me and Mia with such trivial things, do you feel accomplished?” My heart felt like it had a hole punched in it. He used to treat me coldly, but never looked at me with such eyes, he must hate me to the core now. Suddenly felt very meaningless, why bother to annoy him here. I compromised. The wedding quilt is dirty, I don’t want it anymore. This dirty man, I don’t want him anymore either. I propped myself up to stand: “Liam, I don’t lack money.” When I turned to leave, he suddenly grabbed me, a trace of helplessness in his expression: “You’re in a bad mood today, go back to the Carter family to calm down for a few days, I’ll pick you up in three days.” I flung off his hand and quickly left this place. This home we built for years, I was just a passerby after all. … Carter family home. The farce at the wedding, I’ve already explained to my parents. Seeing me back, Mom let out a long sigh of relief: “Daughter, Mom actually wants to thank God! If this was discovered after marriage, what would you do?” “The Whitman family always disliked us merchants for being money-grubbing, their scholarly family raised such shameless things!” Dad sighed lightly: “Don’t talk about this, daughter is uncomfortable. I’ve asked my assistant to withdraw all investment in Gu’s Calligraphy Academy, from now on our Carter family has nothing to do with the Whitman family!” I was hesitating whether to mention Alex’s matter, Mom suddenly said: “By the way, Alex came today, even brought the betrothal gift.” She took out a velvet box from the drawer of the coffee table, “This kid is quick in action.” Opening the box, inside was a pair of heirloom jade bracelets. Only then did I really realize that the wedding in three days, Alex was serious. Chapter 4 Night falls. Mia sent me a message. “Chloe, come back.” “I’ll move out right away, I don’t want the baby either.” “You and brother have five years of feelings, can’t be ruined because of me, I will feel guilty for a lifetime.” I stared at the screen and sneered, if she wanted to make a fuss, she could go to her brother, why come to me. I replied two words: “Suit yourself.” Then, simply blocked her. After doing these, I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window in a daze, my heart always feeling a bit desolate. My phone suddenly vibrated, Alex’s video call invitation popped up. “Chloe,” he in the screen had bright eyes, “Give me a heart gesture.” I stunned: “Why suddenly…” Heart gesture? So cheesy. “I don’t care,” he leaned close to the lens like acting shamelessly, “I want it now.” Amused by his childlike expression, I helplessly quickly made a heart gesture, getting goosebumps myself first. He immediately covered his chest, closed his eyes and made an exaggerated intoxicated expression. When he opened his eyes again, he suddenly winked at me with his right eye. My heartbeat suddenly missed a beat. “Look outside the window, gift in return for you.” He chuckled lightly hinting me, the video stopped abruptly. The night sky outside the window suddenly lit up. Hundreds of drones formed a flashing heart shape, then changed into a line of words: “Chloe, Happy Birthday” Tears instantly blurred my vision. Today’s farce made me forget even my own birthday. But he still remembered, although a bit cheesy, I felt his sincerity and liked it very much. While Liam, every year on my birthday, he only wrote the four words “Happy Birthday” with a pen, not even signing my name. “My calligraphy works have collection value,” he always explained like this, “If I write your name, no one will be willing to collect them.” This year, he simply said: “Too busy preparing for the wedding, no time to write.” But the so-called wedding preparations. Choosing the wedding dress was me trying in more than twenty shops alone. Booking the hotel was me comparing more than thirty quotes. Sending invitations was me writing more than three hundred personal letters late at night. The only time he participated was when I tried the main dress, he barely squeezed out five minutes to come, but stared at his watch to check the time throughout the process. Turns out his lack of love for me, was always traceable. My heart suddenly tightened, I urgently looked up and blinked. Too many tears have been shed today, at least on my birthday, I want to leave the last bit of dignity for myself. In my sleep, the phone vibrated, I groggily pressed the answer button. Liam’s voice roared over: “Chloe, you come to the hospital immediately, something happened to Mia!” I woke up instantly, was the message she sent serious? Didn’t even change clothes, I wore pajamas, stepped on slippers and rushed out the door. When I arrived at the ward, I saw Mia leaning well on the headboard, Liam was gently peeling an apple for her. The two were in a state of peaceful years, while I was wearing slippers with half a foot slipping out, like a clown. Seeing me appear, Liam suddenly erupted, violently dragged me to the hospital bed: “Kneel down to Mia!” I looked up in astonishment, before I could react, my leg bend suddenly took a heavy kick. My knees hit the ground hard, the piercing pain made me unable to move for a moment. “Liam! Are you crazy?” I stared at him fiercely. The rage翻涌 in his eyes was scary: “Mia cut her wrist! Almost killed two lives! Don’t say I’m crazy, I really want to kill you now!” Mia wept at the right time: “Brother, I sent a message to apologize to Chloe, she blocked me. Chloe must hate me to death, she doesn’t want to see me again, what’s the meaning of my living…” Although I disliked her, I didn’t want to get involved in human life. Busy looking up to examine her, there was a half-centimeter-long wound on her wrist, coated with iodine, already scabbed. This is cutting wrist suicide? A sadness in heart, I pulled the corner of my lips, “Liam, if I come tomorrow, would her wound have healed?” He exploded instantly: “Chloe! Why are you so vicious? If I hadn’t discovered it in time… do you know what the consequences of excessive blood loss for a pregnant woman are?” This is probably concern leads to confusion. A tiny wound made him lose his temper, while he ignored the blood flowing on my forehead. He must love Mia miserably. My heart seemed to be tied with a stone and sank straight down, I frowned, wordless. This seemed to completely completely anger him, he threw the fruit knife at me, saying fiercely. “Since you think it doesn’t matter, then make the same wound, taste the pain yourself, this is what you owe Mia!” Looking at him incredulously, this is the man I loved death-heartedly for five years. At this moment, the heart was totally cold. Isn’t it just one cut? Just return it to her. Lowering my eyes to hide the tears in my eyes, I picked up the knife and lightly cut on my wrist. Mia screamed in fright. I struggled to stand up, put my hand in front of Liam’s eyes: “Enough?” Fresh blood dripped down constantly. His eyelashes trembled quickly, glanced disdainfully. Then turned to comfort the frightened Mia, not forgetting to curse in a low voice. “Who made you cut so deep, really hopelessly stupid.” I smiled silently, staggering to the door. He suddenly threw a sentence: “Chloe, reflect well in the Carter family! Three days later, I will pick you up.” My tears fell while laughing. Liam, we, will never meet again.

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My student of three years blindsided me with a question. “Professor, how does a woman manage to be completely oblivious when her husband has been cheating for six years?” Scandal is always in the news, especially in my field. I told her to focus on her studies and stop gossiping about other people’s lives. That same evening, however, a local city push notification popped up on my phone. “Here’s a treat for my girls.” “My man is 6’2″ with a handle.” In the video, the man, immaculate in a bespoke suit, had one large hand cinched around the woman’s impossibly small waist. The comments section exploded in shrieks of adoration. “Those veins, those thick fingers! Sister, he’s definitely serving you right!” I chuckled softly, ready to swipe the notification away. But my gaze snagged on the diamond ring glittering on the man’s finger. It was identical to the one I had spent countless nights meticulously designing and polishing myself. I froze. I immediately forwarded the video, along with the adoring comments, to the man in question. “Mr. Maxwell, why didn’t you tell me about your, uh, technological improvements?” The account was blocked the very next second. He came home later that night, his face set in a deep scowl. “I married you, why are you always monitoring me!” he hissed. “You don’t need to worry. She won’t have a child. She gets nothing from me but love, and that should be enough for you.” “Why can’t you just let me go?” I’ve never been the type to suffer in silence. That same night, I called my lawyer and started drafting divorce papers. The next morning, his room reeked of stale smoke, the floor littered with cigarette butts. He finally gave in. “I’ll send her abroad, but first, I owe her a graduation trip.” He vanished from my world after that. He didn’t even show up the day our daughter was killed in a car accident, the day of her small, private memorial. I packed up Winnie’s belongings, bought a one-way ticket to the Alps. Since you two are so in love, I’ll just leave. 1 “The court documents, please give these to Owen Maxwell, House Manager.” I handed the legal papers to our house manager. After Owen said he needed to compensate Phoebe for a graduation trip and then promptly disappeared for two full years, I petitioned the court for divorce based on irreconcilable differences and two years of separation. “Madam, you and the Master were so happy once. Is there truly… no room for reconciliation?” The house manager looked at me with a pained, reluctant expression. My gaze drifted past him to the mansion I had called home for eight years. Cold. Barren. Winnie’s birthday was in two days. In previous years, the house would have been bustling with preparations. Now, only a few lights were even turned on. I remembered the video Phoebe had posted on social media two days ago. She was holding a cat wearing a tiny birthday hat. Phoebe was leaning on Owen’s shoulder, smiling. The caption read: “Birthday celebrations for my little baby~ So good to have someone who’s willing to be crazy with you~” The comments were a chorus of “Perfect match,” “So happy,” “Such a great boyfriend,” and “Happy birthday, Kitty.” A cat had a warm home, while my daughter was confined to a cold urn. And the other person in that video was her own father. The irony was a razor slicing through my heart. My eyes welled up. Winnie’s accident had happened five days earlier. I’d called Owen countless times. When he finally answered, all I got was a cold, flat, “Phoebe’s trip ends in a month. Whatever it is, it can wait until I get back,” before he hung up. The next time I called, I was blocked. Thinking about Winnie, who had asked when her father was coming home just before she died—telling me she missed him—my heart was a clenched fist of agony, making it almost impossible to breathe. The house manager was still looking at me with mournful eyes, trying to plead with me to stay. But I wiped the tears from my face, my voice firm. “There is no going back.” “And this, please give this to him as well.” I slipped the diamond ring off my left ring finger and walked to the car without a second glance. On the way to the airport, my phone chimed. A new video from the account I followed. “Hating to leave Venice, ugh. Someone promised we’d come back next year!” Phoebe was kissing Owen’s sleeping cheek. Even a still photo couldn’t hide the dense sweetness between them. I fell into a self-destructive trance, scrolling through Phoebe’s entire feed. Owen had taken her to see icebergs, the Northern Lights. He kissed her romantically next to historic landmarks. A sudden, sharp ache pierced my chest. These were all things he had once promised to do with me. The year we first got together, we impulsively bought a list of “100 Things Couples Must Do.” We each wrote down three dream destinations and swore to go together. When we exchanged lists, Owen’s page was blank. Seeing my confused expression, the young man smiled, his eyes full of love. “Lydia’s wishes are my wishes.” I remember the profound love in that look even now. It was the same look he now gave Phoebe. Antarctica, the Arctic Circle, Paris. They were the three most romantic places I could think of. But after we got married, he never brought them up again. It turned out he hadn’t forgotten. He just wanted to experience them with someone else. I was just about to hit the ‘Unfollow’ button when a message popped up, dragging me out of my spiraling gloom. “Lydia, if you ever need anything, call me immediately. I will always have your back.” 2 My eyes lingered on the text for a moment before I swiped and deleted the number, blocking the contact. A day later, the plane landed. I carried Winnie’s ashes to the Swiss Alps. Her lifelong wish was for her parents to take her here. I never got the chance to fulfill it before she was taken from me. But as I walked into the hotel lobby, I spotted two familiar figures. Owen had his arm around Phoebe’s waist. They were sharing a single, thick scarf, clinging together sweetly as they waited for the elevator. Before I could react, the hotel receptionist followed my line of sight and smiled. The receptionist, a young woman, said, “They’re such a sweet couple, aren’t they?” “The gentleman booked the entire hotel two days ago, just to celebrate his six-year anniversary with his girlfriend. The lady said it would be too lonely, so he reduced it to just one floor of the top suites.” “Otherwise, madam, you wouldn’t have been able to book a room with us today.” I froze. “I’m sorry, did you just say they were celebrating… six years?” The receptionist nodded, but seeing the color drain from my face, she asked if I needed to call the hotel nurse. I bit my lip and shook my head. Six years. Six years. That meant they started their affair right around the time I became pregnant with Winnie. I stared, hatred burning in my eyes, at the two figures by the elevator. Phoebe was my student. She was eager and hard-working; I’d taken her under my wing. And this student, this person I was so proud of, had slept with my husband within the first month I brought her home. I had always thought Owen’s heart had strayed after our ten years together. I could have at least lied to myself that his love for Winnie was real! Now, it seemed he had never loved me, and perhaps, never loved our daughter either. “I’m sorry, I won’t be checking in.” I was near hysterics as I snatched my ID back from the astonished receptionist. As I hurried away, someone suddenly blocked my path. “Professor Winters, is that really you!” Phoebe’s voice, full of feigned surprise and delight, chirped in my ear. I spun around, meeting Owen’s look of utter disgust. “Lydia, are you stalking me?” he demanded. “I said I’d be back after I finished traveling with Phoebe. Do you have to cause a scene now?” “Are you satisfied only after you’ve ruined Phoebe’s trip and completely messed up everyone’s mood?” His blatant accusations almost made me laugh. Was that truly how he saw me? “Owen, honey, that’s too harsh on Professor Winters.” Phoebe batted his arm in a show of gentle anger. Owen instantly softened, even reaching out to stroke Phoebe’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper. Did I scare you?” Watching him yield so easily because of one soft word from Phoebe, I was momentarily stunned. Ten years with Owen, and I knew his calm exterior hid a deep, serious streak of male chauvinism. Changing his mind was near impossible. Yet now, he was conceding for Phoebe’s petulant little sound. In a decade, the times he yielded to me were few and far between, and only after relentless arguing. I shook my head in self-mockery. Love and indifference—the difference was so stark. I thought I would feel heartbreak, but there was only cold detachment. “Your movements are all over social media. Do you really think I need to stalk you?” Owen’s brow furrowed at my words, but before he could speak, I continued, riveting his attention. “Besides, we’re divorced, Mr. Maxwell.” 3 “I came here for a solemn reason, not to play a silly game of you-run-I-chase.” As my cold laugh faded, Owen’s face darkened instantly. “Do you think I’d forget whether or not I signed divorce papers?” He sneered. “Lydia, a few days ago you tried to use our daughter to manipulate me. Now, you’ve stooped to this flimsy trick?” Hearing him mention Winnie, my heart was instantly pierced. I took an angry step forward. “My daughter? You have the audacity to mention our daughter?” “I asked you, why didn’t you answer my calls?” “I sent you messages that our daughter was hurt! You saw them, so why didn’t you reply?!” “Do you have any idea that she was asking when her father was coming home right before she died!!!” With every word, I lost more control. By the end, my eyes were blazing red, my body trembling uncontrollably. But Owen still looked at me with disdain, even a flicker of the caution reserved for a madwoman. “The same lie didn’t work once, so you think twice or three times will do it?” “Lydia, do you honestly think I’m an idiot?” “If our daughter had really died, with your temperament, you’d have gone with her. How could you be standing here looking perfectly fine?” Phoebe, pretending concern, reached out to support my arm. “Yes, Professor Winters. You know how much Owen cares for Winnie. How could you think of such a thing to trick him?” “I know you blame me for taking his affection, but tactics like this are exactly how you destroy whatever affection he has left for you.” I violently threw off Phoebe’s hand. “Get away from me! Save your fake pity!” My daughter was gone. What good was a man’s hollow, transient affection? I didn’t think I’d used much force, but Phoebe stumbled and fell dramatically to the ground. “My back! Owen!” SMACK! A sudden, searing pain on my cheek. I clutched my rapidly swelling face, staring dumbfounded at the person who had hit me. Owen seemed surprised, too, that he had actually struck me. His expression was momentarily rigid, a flicker of remorse crossing his features. He started to reach for me. But the moment he moved, Phoebe on the floor immediately clasped her abdomen. “It hurts! My stomach…” Owen’s attention snapped immediately to her. Watching him cradle Phoebe, murmuring reassurances, I gave a sharp, bitter laugh. I turned to leave, but Owen’s voice stopped me. “Hold it right there!” I turned back, my expression empty. “You shoved Phoebe. You think you can just walk away?” His eyes were freezing. “Apologize to Phoebe. Now.” My anger, fueled by his reversed accusation, boiled over into a fierce, mocking smile. “And if I refuse?” We stood in a silent stalemate. Eventually, Phoebe tugged on Owen’s sleeve. “I’m much better, honey. Don’t force Professor Winters. I just lost my footing.” Hearing that, Owen’s fury towards me intensified. “You’re such a disappointment, Lydia. Phoebe is ten years younger than you, yet she has more common sense than you do.” “It seems I protected you too well these past few years, so much that you forgot your place!” “Phoebe will still be coming back with me this time. I’ll have her teach you a thing or two about respect.” I scoffed. All those words were just a clumsy setup to take Phoebe back home. He looked like a gentleman, a successful corporate executive, but he was nothing more than a poisonous snake in a polished suit. Owen took Phoebe and headed to the top floor. I had planned to switch hotels. But outside, the snow had turned into a sudden, vicious blizzard. Reluctantly, I checked in. I prayed the weather would clear tomorrow. Because tomorrow was Winnie’s seven-day memorial. I needed to bury her ashes on the highest point of the Alps to fulfill her final, unachieved wish. 4 Full of anxiety, I didn’t sleep a wink. But the next morning, the blizzard hadn’t stopped. Ignoring the front desk’s warnings, I borrowed a set of extreme weather gear, took Winnie’s urn, and headed up the mountain alone. I was halfway up, taking a short break before pushing on, when the small pack I’d placed at my feet suddenly vanished! It held Winnie’s remains! I sprang up, frantically looking around, and spotted Phoebe nearby, wearing identical gear. “Professor Winters, looking for this?” A look of pure malice spread across her face. “Give it back!” I lunged to snatch it, but Phoebe held the small canister aloft, dodging my hands. She kept it just out of reach. In a fit of fury, I shoved her hard. At that exact moment, Owen arrived, rushing toward us. He roared, “Stop it!” Owen caught a frightened-looking Phoebe in his arms. “Phoebe knew you’d risked going up the mountain in the snow and came out after you despite the danger, and this is how you repay her?!” “How can you be so utterly vicious!” I barely heard his condemnation. My eyes were fixed on the canister in Phoebe’s hands. “Give it to me! Hand it over!” Phoebe shrank back, hiding the canister completely in Owen’s embrace. “What in the hell are you doing?!” Owen had completely run out of patience. The words That’s our daughter’s ashes were on the tip of my tongue. But seeing his tightly knit brows, I caught myself. He would just think I was lying again. “It’s, it’s something very important to me,” I managed, grinding the words out. Phoebe peeked out from behind him. “Since it’s so important, I’ll help you hold onto it, Professor Winters.” “My jacket has a pocket. Don’t worry, it absolutely won’t fall out if I hold it!” I was about to refuse again when Owen cut in. “That’s enough. If you want to hike, go hike. If Phoebe hadn’t been kind enough to worry about you, who would risk their neck to accompany you?” “Don’t drag us down!” “That’s right, Professor Winters. Are you taking it to the summit? Then let’s hurry up. I’ll give it back when we get there.” Every one of my protests was shot down by the two of them.

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Five years after our breakup, my ex-boyfriend’s sister exposed me on a reality show. “My brother dated this girl once. A total gold digger.” “After they broke up, she sent him hundreds of texts begging to get back together.” “But, you know, I deleted all of them.” Netizens immediately pinned the “gold digger” label on me, a washed-up actress. To grab headlines, the paparazzi dug me out from a pile of “dead bodies” on set. I wiped a smudge of ash from my face and smiled at the camera: “We really weren’t close. Otherwise, would I be here playing a corpse?” The interview video blew up. Ethan Sterling flew back from overseas. That night, I saw him at my apartment door. “Not close? So for all those years, I was sleeping with a ghost?” 1 After the clip of Bella Sterling exposing me aired, it simmered overnight and hit the top trending spot. On screen, she smiled nonchalantly at the camera, dispensing justice and executing the gold digger. “Anyone with eyes could see she was after our family’s money. My brother actually thought she was innocent.” “You know, those girls who pretend to be innocent are actually the scariest. None of our friends in the circle liked her.” “But my brother was like he was under a spell. He almost turned against the family for her.” “My mom wanted to break them up forcefully back then. I advised her not to ruin her relationship with her son over a gold digger.” “Later, I had to infiltrate from the inside and use some tricks to make that woman reveal her true colors.” “I really saved my brother’s life. For families like ours, marriage must be a match of equal status so both families can be satisfied.” Bella entered the entertainment industry with the title of a wealthy heiress. Publicly, she was the daughter of Sterling Real Estate. Naturally, everyone assumed the “brother” she mentioned was the heir to Sterling Real Estate. But in reality, Sterling Real Estate was just a small asset of the Sterling family empire. But I digress. Playing a dead body means you can’t check your phone. I only heard about what Bella said on the show from the paparazzo next to me. Somehow, connecting the dots of the past, the public’s gaze turned to me, a has-been star. “Is it really not you?” The director yelled “Cut,” and the paparazzo and I crawled up from the ground. He was dedicated. To dig up news, he snuck in to play a corpse with me. I dusted off my gray robe and grinned: “Really not me. If I could climb up to such a high-status young master, would I need to be here playing a dead body?” He spat out a blade of grass. “Stop pretending. I’ve been watching you since you debuted. I could never get a shot of your ex-boyfriend back then. Now with this scoop, doesn’t it fit perfectly?” I ignored him, bending over to fish out a crumpled business card from my robe and jeans pocket. I stuffed it into his hand ingratiatingly: “Boss, remember to call me if you have work. Dead bodies, corpses, background filler—I can do it all. My professional ability is guaranteed.” This paparazzo had been betting on me since my debut. In my peak years, he bought a condo in LA just by making up dirt on me. All these years, as I faded into obscurity, only this guy still had hope, always expecting me to make a grand comeback like a queen reclaiming her throne. He snatched the card, cursing. “I’m convinced, Chloe. If you were a stock, I’d have lost my underwear betting on you all these years.” “Chloe, you were so glorious back then. How did you end up like this?” I sighed and rubbed my hands. “A hero doesn’t mention past bravery. Rain, just throw some work my way in the future, and I’ll be grateful.” I looked at his back, craning my neck to shout again: “Rain! I can play anything! Just give me a role!” The autumn wind was cold. I looked away and wrapped my robe tighter. If he hadn’t mentioned the past, I might have really forgotten. Glorious. I was very glorious once. 2 At eighteen, I was selected from an open casting call at the film academy. At nineteen, I exploded into stardom. The tabloids criticized me daily, but were somehow friendly. Vanity Fair was the most exaggerated, writing headlines praising me as the brightest star in the galaxy. I lived up to expectations, skyrocketing in popularity in a short time. In my brightest year, my face was on billboards from New York to LA. Bella always said I relied on her brother, aiming for their money. Others might not know, but Ethan knew best. I met him when I was nineteen. Back then, I had boundless prospects and was arrogant. He didn’t know how to pursue someone, only how to throw money: “Be with me, and I’ll invest in your movies.” I threw the money back in his face, chin high: “I need you to invest? Directors are lining up to give me scripts.” He smiled, not angry, and reached out to stop the people behind him who were pointing fingers at me. After that, he changed his approach, lowering his proud stance. He squeezed into buses with me to shoot in the mountains, huddled in rental apartments with me, cooked for me, made soup. I took it for granted, patting his shoulder, honored for him: “I’m a superstar! Others can’t even dream of cooking for me!” “In the future, when I win the Oscar and I’m famous worldwide, you’ll have face too. Tell me, in this sea of people, how did you pick a treasure like me?” Ethan ran his fingers through my long hair, unconditionally agreeing with all my nonsensical words. “That’s why I say I have good taste. I knew you’d make it since you were little.” Back then, I saw Ethan as no different from those other second-generation rich kids, except for a good-looking skin. He really liked me then. The patience cultivated from a privileged upbringing was all spent on me. I became famous early, young and aggressive, proud and arrogant, not knowing how to bow my head. No one restrained me, no one regulated me. I offended quite a few people along the way. At such a young age, I did whatever I wanted in that circle. Not because I was amazing, but because in those years, Ethan was always there to clean up the mess. In those years, if he dared to hand me a sword, I dared to unsheathe it. Female star marrying a tycoon—this pairing is never outdated in any era. At that time, I thought, I was somewhat of a star. If I married Ethan, I wouldn’t say how much face he gained, but at least he wouldn’t lose out. So I naively thought that between us, it was just a matter of my nodding. 3 But later, I saw the true difference between clouds and mud. Ethan’s mother didn’t like me. His friends looked down on me. With my strong self-esteem, I should have broken up with him. But I couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear to leave him, couldn’t bear not to love him. I lowered my head, I endured, unwilling to retreat. Bella broke in at this time. She was Ethan’s adopted sister. Her father was the Sterling family driver. When she was five, he died saving Ethan, so the Sterling family adopted her. Maybe it was gratitude, maybe it was childhood friendship. In short, Bella had a lot of say in that circle. The first time she saw me, she showed huge enthusiasm. “Brother, this is the sister-in-law you found for me? So pretty.” She took my arm, pointing at the circle of people, giving orders: “I’m telling you all, be polite to my sister-in-law. With me here, no one can bully her.” In my most confused moments, I treated her as an ally. Asking her about Ethan’s mother’s opinion of me, asking her how to please his mother. Bella comforted me: “Oh, don’t worry, Aunt Lan is just sharp-tongued but soft-hearted. You and my brother just hold on. One day, get pregnant first and tell her later. Give her a grandson, and she’ll be too happy to care.” “At worst, just wait it out. When my brother gets older, she’ll naturally compromise.” Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to force a marriage with a child. But Bella’s words gave me some confidence at the time. I thought Ethan’s mother was like all mothers in the world, ultimately unable to win against her child. So when Bella told me Ethan’s mother wanted to see me, I believed her. I did the most appropriate makeup, wore the most appropriate clothes, nervous and uneasy. That was the first time I met Ethan’s mother face to face. At such a grand occasion where I clearly shouldn’t have appeared, I intruded rudely without permission. In that moment, I saw thick disgust in Ethan’s mother’s eyes. I looked at Bella, hoping she would say something. She smiled and said ambiguously: “Aunt Lan, don’t blame her. She just wanted to please you too much, so she inevitably lacked a sense of propriety.” My pupils shrank, my whole body cold as ice. The incident was too big. Ethan flew back overnight. The moment he saw me, his eyes were tired: “Chloe, I told you I was making plans, I was thinking of a way. Why were you in such a hurry? Do you know what occasion that was? How many important figures attended? You barged in like that, what do you expect my mom to think of you?” I knew he was fighting with his family, working hard for us. In many sleepless nights, we hugged tightly, hearing him whisper to hold on a little longer. So I knew I was wrong. My eyes were red: “I’m sorry, I was too anxious. It was Bella, she told me to go…” The long confrontation with his family had worn out his patience: “Why blame her? Even if she wanted to help you build a bridge with my mom, you’re an adult. Couldn’t you read the room?” He didn’t believe me, and also thought I was eager for quick success, desperate to climb the social ladder. 4 From then on, we began endless arguments and cold wars. Bella remained the same in front of people, pretending to consider everything for me, acting intimate with me. But behind my back, like everyone else, she despised me. Planning to separate from Ethan was because the messy relationship stagnated my career. On the eve of deciding to separate, Bella sent me a video. In the frame, Ethan sat on the living room sofa, familiar faces sitting around him. His mother’s tone was strict: “You and that girl, how long will this go on!” Ethan didn’t look up, tone lazy: “Just playing, what’s the rush.” Along with the video came a text message from Bella. “Sister-in-law, don’t misunderstand. My brother is just like this, unforgiving with his mouth. He always said he was just playing with those girlfriends before, but he gave money and resources generously. Dating him for a few days means not worrying about food and drink for lifetimes.” I didn’t take the video to question Ethan’s thoughts, but directly proposed a breakup. But Ethan only thought I was throwing a tantrum, dealing with me patiently. To disgust him, I said all sorts of cruel things. “Yeah, I found a better backer. If you can provide, others can provide for me too!” “You think your family is royalty? Let me tell you, I don’t care!” The argument exploded instantly, entangled and unrelenting. Many times, I thought. If Ethan had let go then, if I hadn’t had that extra bit of attachment then. Maybe I wouldn’t have walked into the trap set by Bella. I wouldn’t have been branded a mistress climbing into a director’s bed at my peak, with explicit photos flying everywhere. I wouldn’t have paid damages until I had nothing left, wouldn’t have ended up playing dead bodies now. Pity there aren’t so many “ifs.” Love tripped up the first half of my life, trapping me in prison.

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When the results of the second mock SATs were posted, I, the perennial valedictorian, had plummeted to the bottom of the class. Suddenly, glowing text floated before my eyes like a livestream chat: [The Female Lead is done for! Everyone around her has bound a ‘Swapper System’ to forcibly trade their trash for her treasures.] [Swapping grades is just the beginning…] The comments were all lamenting my tragic fate. Until the next day. The guy who stole my grades suddenly dropped dead. 01 [Congratulations. You have identified the first Swapper.] [Please identify all hidden Swappers around you before Graduation Day. Failure to do so will result in ‘The Erasure’—the loss of your limbs and senses until you are a living stump.] [Swappers Identified: 1] [Countdown to Graduation: 44 Days] The System’s cold robotic voice rang in my head. I clenched my fists under the desk. Beside me, my lab partner was still gossiping about the morning’s news in disbelief. “…They said he was walking down the hall and just dropped. Massive cardiac arrest. He was perfectly healthy at his physical last month.” Seeing me zoning out, Sarah lowered her voice. “It’s weird though, right? Caleb has been failing every class since freshman year, but he suddenly scores perfect marks on this mock exam. And the moment he gets the score… boom, dead. People are saying he messed with dark magic or something.” I forced a pale smile. “There’s no such thing as magic, Sarah. Let’s not gossip about the dead.” Sarah shrugged and went back to her phone. I looked down, hiding the storm in my eyes. Three days ago, I bound the [Hunter System]. The System told me that a group of people around me had bound “Swapper Systems.” They each had one chance to swap anything of mine for theirs—at no cost. Grades were just the start. Next, they would take my looks, my family, even my lifespan. I had to find them before graduation. Otherwise, I would be stripped of everything, eventually suffering “The Erasure”—a fate worse than death. Any Swapper I correctly identified would face immediate termination. Whatever they stole would return to me within two business days. It was a kill-or-be-killed game. At first, I was skeptical. Until the mock SAT scores came out. I, Harper Vance, was at the bottom. And Caleb, the class slacker, was number one. I didn’t hesitate. I opened the System interface mentally. [Identity Confirmed: Caleb. Stolen Attribute: Grades.] Not long after, I heard the news of his death. I confirmed two things. One: The System and the floating comments were real. Two: The Swappers didn’t know I had a Hunter System. If they did, Caleb wouldn’t have been so obvious. I was in the dark, but they were exposed. Advantage: Me. 02 Two days after Caleb died. The principal announced over the intercom: “Due to a server error, there was a mix-up in the grading system. Caleb’s score was incorrect. The true top scorer is, once again, Harper Vance.” The guidance counselor smiled at me later. “Harper, you’ve been top of the class all year. Keep this up, and you’re looking at Stanford or Harvard, easy.” I smiled back. The System was precise. It said “two business days,” and my grades returned right on time. A few days later. While washing my face in the morning, I noticed several angry cystic acne spots erupting on my skin. The familiar glowing text appeared. [Another Swapper made a move. This time, it’s the Female Lead’s beauty.] [This one is smart. She didn’t swap faces entirely. She’s siphoning it bit by bit.] [Since the Lead is the Prom Queen type and the Swapper is plain, a full swap would be too obvious.] [She probably thinks it’s just stress breakouts. She won’t catch on.] [And to think the Lead treats her so well. Snakes everywhere.] So that was it. Without the comments, I wouldn’t have noticed. The names in the comments were blurred out, but I extracted three clues: The Swapper is a plain-looking girl. The name has three syllables. She is close to me. Three names popped into my head immediately. My lab partner, Sarah. My roommate, Emily (I went to a boarding school). My neighbor back home, Chloe. After some observation, I locked onto Sarah. She was usually a bit chubby, but lately, she looked thinner, and her features seemed more refined. [Identity Confirmed: Sarah.] [Attribute Stolen: Partial Beauty.] Suddenly, a piercing alarm rang in my brain. [WARNING! WARNING!] [Host failed to identify the true Swapper!] [You have one chance remaining. Find the true thief within 3 days.] [Penalty for second failure: Beauty -50 permanently. IQ -100 permanently.] [Please take this seriously!] 03 I froze. This Swapper was cunning. Maybe Caleb’s death spooked them. They weren’t being blatant anymore. The hunt just got harder. Back in the dorm, I watched my roommate, Emily. Maybe it was psychological, but her skin looked glowing and porcelain-white today. Emily was humming, applying a sheet mask. “Em, what brand is that? Your skin looks amazing lately.” I tested the waters casually. “Really? Do I look paler?” Emily beamed. “It’s this drugstore brand. Super cheap. Want the link?” She sent me the Amazon link immediately, babbling about how she saw it on TikTok. I smiled and chatted along. I took out my phone and texted my neighbor, Chloe. “Hey girl, are you free this weekend? Want to go shopping?” Chloe replied instantly. “Nah, I’m staying in to study. Graduation is around the corner, too stressed to hang out.” The next day, I knocked on Chloe’s door with a box of cronuts. “I was in the neighborhood. Brought you treats.” I pushed past the door before she could block me. “Omg, love you!” Chloe took the box. I asked, “Chloe, are you on a diet? You look… gaunt.” “No way,” Chloe said naturally. “I’ve been stress-eating pizza every night at 2 AM. I probably lost weight from anxiety.” She stepped on the scale in the living room. “See? Weight hasn’t changed. Sad.” I chatted a bit longer and left. Back home, I summoned the System. [Identity Confirmed: Chloe.] [Attribute Stolen: Partial Beauty.] 04 Chloe hadn’t lost weight or gotten paler. She looked the same. But I remembered she had extremely oily skin. One slice of pizza usually meant a breakout the next morning. Today, her face was flawless. And my face was covered in the acne that should have been hers. [Congratulations. Second Swapper Identified.] [Swappers Identified: 2] [Countdown: 36 Days] Simultaneously, I heard screams from the neighbor’s house. “Chloe! Chloe, wake up!” “Call 911! She’s not breathing!” I stood still in my hallway. I knew the penalty was death. But Chloe… was it worth dying over some pimples? Sensing my hesitation, the System spoke coldly: [From the moment she chose to target you and steal your beauty… she stopped being your friend.] [Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself. The price of failure is The Erasure.] I shook my head. [I’m not being soft. I just don’t understand. Is being pretty worth dying for?] Or maybe, to Chloe, I was never a friend. Just a target. The people around me felt like they were wearing masks. What was hiding underneath? Over the next week, I caught two more. One tried to swap my admission to Columbia University. Another tried to swap my popularity. I caught them fast. They were gone just as fast. The System was hyped. [Host, you’re crushing it! Just survive until graduation!] [I’m applying for a bonus. Every catch adds 10 points to your final GPA!] Things looked bright. The comments said I might change my tragic destiny. Until that day. I was walking on the sidewalk. A truck swerved, hopping the curb, barreling straight for me. When I woke up in the hospital, I heard the doctors whispering outside. “Amputation.” [WARNING! WARNING!] [Host’s Luck has dropped to Zero!] [Identify the Luck Thief within 24 hours!] [Failure penalty: Amputation of both legs.]

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