Category: English

My brother is a stoic, New York business tycoon who practices a vow of silence—strict, disciplined, and cautious. I, on the other hand, am a chatterbox. To win him over, I practice calling myself “sister-in-law” in the mirror every day. While he meditates in seclusion at home, I spread rumors about him outside. When he goes to Germany for business, I tell everyone he’s going for “German Orthopedics” (a slang term implying incestuous relationships, often used in anime/manga culture, here adapted to mean something scandalous). When he sets me up on blind dates with handsome guys, I claim it’s all part of his play, a prelude to a “possessive brother forced love” scenario. I annoyed this cold, detached man so much that he almost started casting spells with sign language. Later, he became intense, and perverted. He tied me to the headboard with his tie, his distinct knuckles tracing dirty words on my waist stroke by stroke: “Read it out loud.” My face burned red, I bit the pillow and shook my head with tears in my eyes. Too dirty, couldn’t say it. He smiled, his slender fingers caressing my lower abdomen: “Such a thin waist, yet such a sharp tongue.” “Did you really think you could handle everything?” 1 At 9 AM sharp, I appeared downstairs at the Sterling Group building. Admiring my beauty in the elevator reflection, I enunciated clearly: “Good morning, sister-in-law. You look radiant today as always.” The employee in a suit next to me glanced at me, looking like his CPU had fried, and quietly moved away. Carrying the “love breakfast” for my brother, Ethan Sterling, I marched into the CEO’s office with my head held high. A few days ago, I had a big fight with Ethan. Mostly me fighting, him listening. He wanted to find me a marriage partner. I said exasperatedly: “It’s not like you don’t know, the person I like is you!” Ethan practices a vow of silence to avoid sins of speech and lies. He wears a string of eighteen prayer beads on his wrist year-round. Every time he breaks his vow and speaks, he has to drop a bead into a wooden box. Until all eighteen beads are gone, he can never speak again. And now, only fifteen beads remain. The three lost beads were all because of me. Ethan fingered the beads on his wrist one by one, eyebrows furrowed. He signed a few words back: “I am your brother.” “Not by blood!” “You are too young.” I puffed out my chest: “You’re the one who’s small, I’m a D-cup!” “I don’t like you.” I said decisively: “Impossible, how could anyone in the world not like me!” My second brother, Liam, standing aside, was dumbfounded: “No, sis, aren’t you a bit too narcissistic?” Ethan’s expression didn’t change a bit. Posture like a pine, back straight, as if no waves could shake his resolve: “Find her suitable guys of the same age, arrange meetings.” I kicked Liam in anger and ran away from home. After a week of cold war with Ethan, I couldn’t take it anymore and actively made breakfast to seek peace. On the top floor of the Sterling Group, voices of conversation approached, mighty and imposing. It wasn’t just Ethan; Liam and the company board members were there too. I wrinkled my nose. Sneaking to make peace with Ethan was fine if only he knew. With others present, I couldn’t lose face. I quickly scanned the office, dodged, and hid under the desk hole of Ethan’s desk. Curled up, just sat down hugging my knees. At the same time, with a “creak,” the door was pushed open. Leather shoes tapped on the floor, footsteps getting closer. Looking up. I was face to face with Ethan, who had just walked around the desk and sat in the boss chair. 2 I was stunned. Ethan was stunned too. I clearly saw his long eyelashes blink once, and he frowned slowly. Before he could speak, I quickly “shushed” him. Grabbed the boss chair with both hands, wheels rolling, and pulled him and the chair over directly. Used his legs to block my body. Ethan didn’t speak, slowly lowered his eyelashes, and gave me a calm look. The directors were still talking non-stop, reporting the group’s operation status. And Ethan barely spoke, only occasionally using sign language or writing down a few words to correct their thoughts. Curled up in the desk hole, I lifted my chin to look at Ethan. Broad, straight shoulders filling out the suit, muscle lines smooth and solid. Hair short and neat, features deep, aura formidable. The wrist holding the fountain pen had veins full of power. This angle reminded me of the day I first met Ethan twelve years ago. I was ten that year, picking swill to eat in front of a trash can. A Rolls-Royce stopped in the slums. Ethan frowned, brand-new shiny leather shoes stepping in a puddle of sewage. He found me quickly. Ethan back then hadn’t started his vow of silence, but was equally reticent and pretentious, lifting my collar with a few fingers: “Is it her?” I bared my teeth and claws at him: “Who are you? Let me go!” “I want to adopt you.” An orphan with no parents, struggling alone since childhood, I wasn’t afraid of him at all: “Get lost! Who knows if you’re a pervert. “You dare touch me, I curse you and your son to be stabbed in the rectum in the future!” He threw me into the back seat of the Rolls-Royce, then took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped his fingers clean: “Take her away.” Ethan drew my blood, tested my DNA, and then pushed an adoption contract in front of me. From that day on, I became the third miss of the Sterling family. Liam once covered his face and asked Ethan: “Big brother, why did we adopt her? “I’m afraid she’ll lick her own mouth and poison herself to death.” I was also curious why Ethan adopted me. I even suspected I was an illegitimate child of the late Mr. and Mrs. Sterling. Stole hair from Ethan and Liam to test DNA, I indeed had no blood relation with them. I investigated secretly for a long time, until I encountered that incident… My thoughts drifted away, pulled back by the voices of the executives reporting. After the directors finished reporting, it was the board members’ turn, showing no intention of leaving. I kept the same head-down posture for a long time, neck sore. In front of me were Ethan’s long legs, close at hand, suit pants fabric stiff. I decided to be lazy. Quietly moved forward, click, rested my chin on Ethan’s knee. The soft flesh of my cheek sank slightly, pressing against his thigh. My brother smells really good. I buried my nose in his suit pants, sniffing like a puppy. Not the smell of any perfume, but the sandalwood from years of meditation, light and pleasant. Ethan’s relaxed body suddenly tightened, even his breathing stopped for a moment. He looked down at me, jawline tight, sharp Adam’s apple rolling up and down. The meaning in his eyes was obvious: “What are you doing?” I looked at him innocently for a moment, mouthed: “Brother, you smell good.” Then curved my eyes, pursed my lips, and smiled at him. Sunlight fell on my eyelashes, warm and fuzzy. Under the cover of the desk hole, a group of middle-aged male and female executives were still reporting. Second brother Liam stood foolishly in front of the desk, knowing nothing. And Ethan stared at me fixedly for a moment. As if bewitched, he extended his slender fingers, gently, touched my cheek. A subtle and indescribable atmosphere quietly spread between us. Thump, thump, thump. I quietly took a breath, pressed my heart to stop it from beating so violently. Turned my face, nuzzled his fingers affectionately. The next second, I heard Liam say: “Big brother, about the blind dates you asked me to find for sis, I found three, take a look.” Ethan seemed to wake up with a start, suddenly withdrew his hand, returning to his cold and self-restrained appearance. What blind date?! I’m not going on a blind date!! Evil rose from my gut, I turned my face and bit Ethan’s thigh fiercely. 3 “Hiss—” How come this guy has hard muscles even on his thighs?! Ethan’s body trembled, the hand gripping the pen drew a long mark on the paper. Liam stopped talking, looked up, and looked over in confusion: “Big brother, what’s wrong?” In for a penny, in for a pound. I reached out directly, pulled out Ethan’s shirt. Took the opportunity to messily touch his abs which felt excellent. Then started to unbuckle his belt with a clatter. Fine, make me go on blind dates, huh. I want to see how you explain being seen disheveled with your sister as the CEO of Sterling Group. The sound of metal buckles colliding rang in the quiet space. The executives fell silent simultaneously, looking at Ethan in surprise and doubt. Liam was even more puzzled: “Big brother, what’s that sound?” Ethan closed his eyes, grabbed both my wrists with one hand. With the other hand, he gestured to everyone: “Leave for now.” “Yes.” Everyone filed out. The heavy door was closed again, only Ethan and I were left in the office. He took a deep breath, moved the chair back, revealing my figure. Ethan’s shirt had been unbuttoned by me. The hem scattered around his strong waist, eight abs neat and tidy, muscle lines smooth, but a prominent old scar ran across. I couldn’t help extending my fingertips, gently stroking that scar. The humid rainstorm and thunder of that night seemed to echo in my ears. The first bead on Ethan’s wrist was lost because of this. I was kidnapped when I was sixteen. Ethan ventured alone to confront the kidnappers. At that time, he had already started practicing the vow of silence. Because he hadn’t spoken for a long time, his voice was hoarse and stagnant. Every syllable was like a rough string, extremely low and deep, but clearer than the deafening thunderstorm. He said: “Let her go, I’ll go with you.” In the end, Ethan successfully subdued the kidnappers. But this scar was added to his lower abdomen, almost costing him his life. My heart trembled slightly, fingertips with pale pink nails gently touching him. Ethan’s skin was dark, on the wheat-colored skin, that scar was ugly and ferocious, edges raised like a python. His lean and solid waist and abdomen trembled, holding my wrist. I puffed out my cheeks: “Stingy, won’t even let me touch.” I wore a shirt and skirt today, simply pulled out my shirt too, revealing my tummy: “Not touching yours for free, I’ll let you touch back.” Ethan’s eyebrows moved slightly, stopping my movement: “What’s tattooed on your waist?” I suddenly thought of something, trying to cover it back with clothes in a flurry. But how could my strength compare to Ethan’s. His arm muscles bulged, picking me up directly. Sat me on the desk, face to face with him, lifted my shirt. On the snow-white waist side, a beautiful cursive script was tattooed. —It was the signature Ethan would sign on all legal documents and company contracts. Like stamping a mark exclusive to him on a piece of snow-white, delicate paper. Ethan’s breathing suddenly became heavy: “Why.” I sat on the table, two calves dangling between his thighs. Looking down, I could see his eyes. Curved my eyes and said: “Because I like you.” Sunlight poured like a waterfall into the spacious and bright office. Falling into the bottom of the eyes, like a sparkling lake. I cupped his face, looking into his eyes: “You don’t know how much I like you.” The tip of my nose smelled his light and pleasant sandalwood scent, breaths mingling. I lowered my head as if possessed, slowly, slowly approaching his lips. Only a millimeter away from his lips. The office door was suddenly opened. Liam poked his head in: “By the way, bro, I think three blind dates for sis is a bit few? “Do you want me to make a list, add a few more people…” Liam: “???” He stood dumbfounded at the door, eyes wide as copper bells. Looked at Ethan, then at me, finally back to Ethan: “Ha, excuse me, you guys, um, kissing huh.” He swallowed, carefully said: “Big brother, in sister’s blind date list, need me to sign you up too?” 4 Ethan ran away. After being interrupted by Liam that day, Ethan packed his bags and went on a business trip to Germany that night. I was so angry I choked Liam’s neck: “Eyes not used can be donated to those in need!” Liam screamed: “How would I know you are so bold, daring to forcibly kiss big brother!” I was pressed to meet a circle of blind dates. It took full two months before Ethan returned from Germany. Bringing a huge overseas strategic investment cooperation, he held a dinner party at the Sterling villa. Night fell, lights came on. The Sterling residence was brilliantly lit, guests in fragrant clothes and beautiful hair, countless luxury cars parked outside. I pounced into Ethan’s arms: “Brother, I missed you to death!” Ethan turned sideways and dodged my touch. Not seen for two months, Ethan was even more silent. All night, countless people talked to Ethan, praising his business acumen, complimenting this German strategic cooperation. And his eyes avoided me all along. As if determined to draw a line with me. I gritted my teeth, ran up to him: “Brother, to celebrate your business cooperation this time, an unknown kind person also prepared a gift for you.” A drone flew over. In front of Ethan and countless guests. With a “swish,” it spat out a striking banner with black characters on a red background: 【Congratulations to Ethan Sterling on his return from German Orthopedics!】 Ethan: “……” Guests: “……” I coughed: “Pure passerby, I think going to Germany for orthopedics is weird, what do you think, brother?” Ethan’s gaze finally fell on me. I clearly saw the veins on Ethan’s forehead jumping one by one. Expressionless, he fished out a remote control from my pocket. With a “crack.” The remote control was crushed by him, and the drone fell. I laughed dryly: “German Orthopedics is good, bone density enhanced, haha, haha.” Ethan raised his eyes, looked at me with a heavy gaze, signed: “Chloe Vance, what exactly do you want to do?” I smiled and said: “You.” Ethan’s movement stiffened for a moment, looked away: “Don’t waste time on me anymore. “Did you meet the boys I arranged for you?” One sentence, like a needle, “poof” stuck into my heart. I bit my lip, said angrily: “I don’t like them! “Brother, you know me, stubborn nature, won’t turn back even if I hit the south wall. “Liked you for so long, can’t change.” I took out a box of pills, shook it, showed him: “If you don’t look at me again, I can only think of a way myself, use some strong medicine.” Ethan saw the label on the box clearly, eyebrows condensed, face suddenly darkened: “Where did you get the aphrodisiac? “Bold enough to threaten to drug me?” “No.” I shook my head, took out a small pill in front of him, swallowed it. Then looked up, smiled at him: “This medicine, I ate it myself.” Ethan’s always steady mask suddenly cracked. Eyes wide, looking at me in astonishment. My cheeks flushed red, eyes watery: “The three blind dates you found for me are all here today. “Will you help me relieve the drug effect, or let others do it? “Brother, this time, you choose for me.”

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Chapter 1 At our seventh-anniversary dinner party, my husband shouted from the kitchen. “Babe, come help me serve this dish.” Before I could even stand up from my seat, my best friend had already trotted over, hugging him from behind and taking the plate. Seeing me frozen in place, she quickly explained. “I’m so used to being ordered around by my mom at home, it’s become a reflex. Don’t overthink it.” I didn’t argue or make a scene. I finished the dinner party with a composed face. After the guests left, I calmly said to my husband, who was clearing the table, “Let’s get a divorce.” My husband slammed down the bowls and chopsticks, glaring at me. “Seriously? Just because she helped me serve a dish?” … “Emily, in seven years of marriage, I’ve never let you do a single chore. I’ve spoiled you rotten, giving you everything.” “Now, just because of an unintentional act by your best friend, you want to divorce me? Do you have a conscience?” Mark questioned me with red eyes, as if I had done something unforgivable. I didn’t respond directly. Instead, I shifted my gaze to the dining table, to the plate of squirrel-shaped mandarin fish with only a little left at the bottom. “In seven years of marriage, every time we ate, you knew this was my favorite dish you made, and you would always place it closest to me.” “But this time, you placed it in front of Jessica, who also likes it.” Mark choked for a moment, then said grumpily, “What’s there to say about that? There was no one to help serve the dishes at the time. I was dizzy and busy, didn’t think too much.” I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “It’s not just this dish. When everyone sat down, you pulled out the chair for Jessica first.” “When her glass was empty, you opened a new drink, and it was orange flavor, which she likes but I don’t.” “Mark, human thinking has inertia. When you love someone, your subconscious wants to give them the best.” “When you were too busy to think, you were subconsciously good to another woman. That is the key reason I want to divorce you.” Mark’s face darkened, looking at me like I was crazy. “Emily, are you sick? A few unintentional actions, and you interpret so much out of them? If you’re so capable, why don’t you become a detective?” “Besides, is that ‘another woman’? That’s Jessica! Your best friend since childhood!” “If it weren’t for your sake, I wouldn’t have taken care of her more. How did it become me having an affair with her in your mouth? Are you reasonable?” He went to the study, found a photo album, and threw it in front of me. Inside, one by one, were photos of Jessica and me from childhood to the present, each one smiling like sisters. The most prominent ones were from my wedding, when Jessica was my maid of honor. On stage, she wept as she watched Mark and me exchange rings, her expression moved. In the next one, Jessica and I hugged tightly on stage. She was holding my bridal bouquet, smiling brilliantly. I looked at these photos and suddenly smiled sarcastically in hindsight. “When we exchanged rings, the tips of her shoes were pointed at you. So she wasn’t moved by my marriage, but weeping for you.” “When hugging me, she was smiling at someone outside the frame. From the angle of the shot, that person was you.” “So seven years ago, she had such thoughts about you. No wonder she has remained single all these years.” “And what about you? When did you start?” Mark took a step back, his face full of disappointment and anger at me. “Emily, I thought you were just temporarily stuck in a dead end and couldn’t think straight. I didn’t expect you to be crazy to this extent, confusing black and white even about the past!” “I think I’ve spoiled you too much, making you so tricky, willful, and unreasonable!” “I’ll give you a day to reflect on your mistakes. Tomorrow is my grandfather’s eightieth birthday. If you still have a shred of respect as a junior, you shouldn’t bring this trouble before Grandpa!” He threw the apron heavily and slammed the door as he left. 2 I sat weakly in the chair facing a table full of messy cups and plates. Mark and I met and fell in love in college. My family was wealthy, but I never despised him as a poor student living on financial aid. I selflessly helped him in both study and life, even paying for him to study abroad for two years at a prestigious university to gild his resume. Mark is a smart man. Knowing his shortcomings, he always took great care of my emotions. After marriage, he indeed gave me meticulous care in life, never letting me suffer the slightest grievance. But even the most thorough person will reveal clues when they care too much and get flustered. I opened my phone and found that Mark had unknowingly turned off the location sharing he had bound with me. Without notifying anyone, I changed my clothes and went directly to Jessica’s bar. Because I dressed particularly low-key, no one noticed me from the moment I entered. I walked along the corridor, unimpeded all the way, to the door of private room 999, which Jessica used exclusively to entertain friends. Before pushing the door open, I heard Mark’s complaining voice from inside. “Knowing I’m being bullied by a tigress, you guys still laugh. Do you have any sympathy?” There was a room full of people sitting inside. At a glance, most of them were friends who came to my dinner party tonight! They sat or stood, looking relaxed, with no intention of speaking for me at all. Amidst their laughter, I felt cold all over. In the center seat of the private room, Jessica played with a wine glass, tilted her head and smiled at Mark beside her. “Who told you to be careless and call me ‘baby’ in Emily’s house?” “I didn’t react for a moment and subconsciously tied the apron for you.” “I thought she wouldn’t be so sensitive, but unexpectedly, she still noticed.” Putting down the glass, she lit a cigarette with a smile, using the limited edition antique lighter I gave her for her birthday last year. Just as she put it in her mouth, Mark naturally snatched the cigarette away. “You’re a mother now, why don’t you have any sense of propriety? I told you not to smoke during pregnancy!” Jessica has had a violent temper since childhood and never submitted to anyone’s discipline. Back then, when her dad forbade her to smoke, she could pick up a kitchen knife and challenge the old man. But now, facing Mark, she showed a submissive smile I had never seen before. “Okay, okay, I’ll listen to you. If I don’t smoke, I don’t smoke.” “After all, you are the biological father of my child, of course you have the final say.” She stroked her still flat lower abdomen, smiled and leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder. My blood froze in this instant. Jessica and Mark not only cheated, but even had a child! 3 “Speaking of which, Emily is also unreasonable. Why did she choose to be child-free for no reason?” “Exactly. Brother Mark’s family has been a single heir for three generations. Isn’t she intentionally harming people?” Hearing the ridicule of the people around me, Jessica, who had always stood by my side since childhood no matter what, smiled contemptuously and actually chimed in: “She was spoiled, so she doesn’t know how to consider others.” And my husband, Mark, held Jessica’s hand while smiling affectionately. “Jess, you are willing to bear a child for me. You are not only my benefactor, but also a great hero of my family!” “From now on, our lives will be more closely linked and will never be separated!” Hearing his words, my tears rolled down, and I almost couldn’t stand. Back then, my mother had a difficult labor and heavy bleeding when giving birth to me. She passed away before she could even hold me. Because of this, I have always had a fear of childbirth. Early in our relationship, I told Mark that I planned to be child-free in this life. If he minded, we would end it here. But at that time, Mark hugged me tightly and said emotionally in my ear: “I am already content to meet you in this life. Children are not important at all. My love for you will not decrease by a single bit!” I was full of emotion at that time, thinking that I had met a man who loved me beyond the instinct of reproduction, and possessed a one-in-a-million true love. But now, seeing Mark’s deep affection for Jessica, I know how wrong I was! In the private room, someone asked: “But, do you two plan to hide it from Emily for a lifetime?” “Now that you have a child, you might as well open up to Emily. After the divorce, you can be together openly!” Everyone looked at the two of them in unison, and Mark shook his head immediately. “Impossible. Jess and she have been good friends for more than twenty years. I can’t bear to let her break up with her best friend because of me.” “Moreover, my career is deeply bound to the Evans family. I can’t completely tear my face with Emily.” “So from the very beginning of being together, Jess and I agreed that no matter what, we cannot bring the relationship to Emily, and divorce is even more impossible.” It turns out Mark also knows that his current wealth and status rely on my investment and help. The fundamental reason for maintaining a relationship with me turned out to be profit. Everyone sighed, and someone looked at Jessica with sympathy. “Jess, you are such a proud person. Are you willing to bring up a child in the dark for a lifetime?” Jessica snorted and smiled, turned Mark’s face, and printed a lingering kiss on his lips. “Isn’t marriage just a piece of paper? I don’t care.” “Besides, a wife is not as good as a concubine, and a concubine is not as good as stealing. Stealing under Emily’s nose for a lifetime, just thinking about it is exciting.” If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t believe that such words came from my best friend whom I have known for more than twenty years. There was laughter and joy in the private room, but I felt like I had fallen into hell on earth. Overnight, I went from the happiest woman in the world to a clown who suffered betrayal of both love and friendship at the same time. What is even sadder is that I turned out to be the last person in the circle of friends to know about this. My friends whom I thought were close always helped them cover up, watching them play me around, but no one came to remind me. Weeping, I walked out of the bar and dialed the legal department. “Prepare a divorce agreement for me. I want Mark to leave the marriage with nothing.” “In addition, I want you to help me do a few more things…” 4 The next day was the eightieth birthday of the Zhou family patriarch. The Zhou family had prepared for this birthday banquet for a long time. Early in the morning, the courtyard house I bought for them was decorated with lanterns and festoons. Flowers and longevity peaches were placed everywhere, and a symphony orchestra was invited to perform live. But when I stepped into the gate, I saw Jessica sitting at the main table in the room. And my mother-in-law, who always treated me coldly, was holding her hand affectionately at this moment, asking about her health. “Little Jess, a woman pregnant with a child eats for two. You must pay more attention to strengthening nutrition.” “You are too thin. I feel distressed watching you. In the future, I will cook three meals a day for you and let Mark deliver them to you every day!” Jessica smiled obediently and sweetly. Seeing me come in, she didn’t look panicked at all. “Emily, on such a big day today, why did you come just now? I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” If it were usual, I would think this was the most normal greeting. But now, I clearly heard belittling and suppression in her words, implying that I was a person who didn’t even care about important events in my husband’s family. Sure enough, after the Zhou family members at the table heard it, their faces, which were not good to me originally, became even worse. “She is a wealthy young lady after all. It’s good enough that she can come. How can we ask for so much?” After my mother-in-law sarcastically mocked me, she changed her face and smilingly handed a piece of fruit to Jessica. “Little Jess, this is the cantaloupe Mark had air-freighted from Hainan this morning. It’s very sweet. Eat more.” Jessica greeted me to sit next to her, but I sat directly opposite her, separated by a whole round table, and spoke calmly. “When did you get pregnant? My mother-in-law knows, but I’m still kept in the dark.” A trace of guilt flashed across Jessica’s face, then she smiled: “Just found out. I was preparing to tell you today, but I didn’t expect Auntie to see it first.” “Yes, a pregnant woman has a special aura. We who have given birth can tell at a glance!” My mother-in-law smoothed things over, not forgetting to sarcastically mock me: “Little Emily, you haven’t given birth, so naturally you don’t understand.” I didn’t take her words, my eyes still on Jessica. “Where is the child’s father? When does he plan to marry you?” Hearing the coldness in my tone, the smile on Jessica’s mouth faded a bit, “I am a non-marriageist and don’t plan to get married. Anyway, someone will raise the child after birth. No need for superficial efforts.” But I laughed. “You are too big-hearted as a mother. Others do their best to raise children, but you are willing to let your child be a nameless illegitimate child.” I emphasized the word “illegitimate child”. After saying this, the whole room fell silent. Jessica’s face turned green and white. She stared at me fiercely but couldn’t say a word. At this time, Mark, who hadn’t shown up all along, finally arrived supporting Master Zhou. Seeing Jessica at the dinner table, his face changed instantly: “Jessica, why are you here? Who let you come?” “I invited Little Jess!” My mother-in-law suddenly stood up and pointed at me, cursing: “The old man is celebrating his eightieth birthday, and he still hasn’t held a great-grandson. It’s all because of this hen that can’t lay eggs!” “Now that Little Jess has finally conceived a golden grandson for our family, how can I wrong her? Of course I have to invite her to attend the birthday banquet together!” Her remarks fell into my trap, but also completely tore off Mark’s last fig leaf. Mark was so angry that he almost jumped up: “Mom, what nonsense are you talking about? Jessica and I are innocent. How could the child she is carrying be mine!” He desperately winked at my mother-in-law, but she pushed him away. “What is there to hide? It was Emily’s fault for not being able to bear children. How dare she speak shamelessly and say my grandson is an illegitimate child!” “I looked forward to this golden grandson for so long. How can I allow others to insult him like this!” Mark wanted to cry but had no tears. Just as he was about to explain, Jessica stood up and looked straight at me. “Emily, actually you already knew, right?” “Since that’s the case, I won’t hide it from you anymore. I am indeed pregnant with Mark’s child.” “I have seen all his kindness and dedication to you over the years. I both envy and hate you for not appreciating your blessings, unwilling to even bear him a child.” “You don’t cherish such a good man, but plenty of women want him!” In front of me, she grabbed Mark’s hand and vowed: “Mark, whatever Emily can give you, I can give you too!” “I don’t want to endure anymore. Today I want to be with you openly and honestly!” Mark’s eyes flickered, seeming to be weighing the pros and cons. But soon, he held Jessica’s hand back and looked at me as if burning his boats. “Since everything is out in the open, Emily, let’s part on good terms. Let’s divorce!” “I don’t want a penny of what belongs to you, but the Zhou Corporation was developed by me alone, so don’t even think about taking it!” Seeing his shameless face, I laughed in anger. If it weren’t for me, how could he, a penniless student, quickly get financing to start a business after graduation, receive hundreds of high-quality client orders in a row, and counterattack to become a winner in life in the top ten of the rich list within ten years? But no matter. Compared to dealing with him, I have a more interesting thing to do together. In front of Jessica and Mark, I took out my phone. “It’s me, Emily.” “The capital strangulation against the Xie and Zhou families can begin.”

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On my birthday, Seraphina’s assistant, Blake, put me up for auction on a live stream like some used-up piece of furniture. The title screamed: “The Barren Trophy Husband, The Wastrel with the Zero-Count, The Parasite of the Maxwell Dynasty.” Seraphina was afraid I would show up at the company and make a scene. That evening, she brought home a carton of discount, near-expired chocolate mousse from the grocery store. The syrup was already seeping out of the cracked plastic rim. “Asher, Blake was just being playful,” she said, her voice strained. “He’s a little… brash, but he picked this out specially for you. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” Dad—my father-in-law, Arthur—was shaking with pure rage. He grabbed the heavy porcelain vase on the side table, ready to hurl it at her. I just stared at the film of melted, cheap cream coating the surface of the mousse. I closed my eyes and made a wish: “I hope this year, I finally find the strength to leave this house.” 1 As the words faded. Dad’s expression, which had been contorted with fury, suddenly froze. “Asher, you…” “Asher Cole, what Oscar-winning tragedy are you auditioning for now?” Seraphina’s already dark mood soured further. “I handled the Blake thing. The stream was deleted. It was just a stupid joke. Why are you dragging it out?” Her gaze flicked over Dad, then a sudden, hollow realization dawned on her face. She curved her lips into a smirk of pure disdain. “You’re not trying to play up the drama because Dad’s here, are you? Asher, you’re thirty years old. Can you stop with the childish games?” I met her gaze, not flinching from the unconcealed contempt in her eyes. I kept my voice flat. “Let’s say I am. Seraphina, I want a divorce.” The words were a pause button. The muscles in Seraphina’s face instantly seized up. A wave of raw panic and anxiety surged into Dad’s eyes. “Asher, you can’t talk about divorce! I already had the platform ban the account. If that’s not enough, I’ll transfer Sera’s assistant to the overseas division immediately…” This incident was only the last shard of glass—the final, pathetic straw. My marriage to Seraphina. The chasm had opened the day Blake became her personal assistant. It was a silent, black gulf we both pretended wasn’t there. “Asher, take the win and move on! Blake brought you a cake to apologize. What more do you want?” The wick of the cheap candle had burned out. The melted wax had coagulated into an ugly, brittle crust on the mousse. It was the final seal on this relationship that had rotted from the inside out. I traced the rough, uneven terrain of the old scar beneath my collarbone, ignoring her. I turned to Dad. “Do you remember when I dropped out of college my sophomore year?” That year. I acquired the indelible mark I would carry for the rest of my life. And the person who had inflicted it was Blake Harrison. It was only because the research project I was part of had received the specific funding grant managed by the professor Blake had a crush on. He and a few guys from his fraternity dragged me from the lab to a storage warehouse for discarded equipment. They used an industrial-grade solvent to burn my skin. They made me kneel and scrape mud off their sneakers with my tongue. At the time, Seraphina had just taken over the family business. When she came to the university to pick me up. I was a discarded rag doll, thrown next to the dumpster behind the administration building, with massive chemical burns from my neck to my chest. The moment Seraphina saw me, she broke. She tore off her cashmere coat and wrapped me in it, her scream tearing through the air as she called the paramedics. On the way to the hospital. She was trembling uncontrollably, whispering over and over into my ear: “Asher, wait. I promise, I will make them pay for this.” Yet, six months ago. When I found out her new assistant was Blake. I cornered her in her office, sobbing hysterically. I clutched her sleeve and pleaded, “Please, just send him away? I’m begging you, I can’t see him again.” She looked at my breakdown. She was cold and calm, as if watching a drama that had nothing to do with her. She said lightly, “Asher, let the past go. People make mistakes—he paid his dues; he was expelled. You have to give him a chance at redemption.” The sight of him. It was a floodgate opening on memories I had forcibly locked away. My depression, which I thought was managed, came roaring back. I couldn’t tell anyone. I just secretly doubled my medication dose every day. Every time I saw the concern in Dad’s eyes. I choked back the words, not wanting to worry him anymore. I chewed up all the suffering and swallowed it whole. Until yesterday, when my therapist told me, his face grave: “Mr. Cole, if your condition doesn’t come under effective control soon, I can’t guarantee what will happen next.” I knew. The unspoken words were… If I don’t get control, I’m headed for self-destruction. When I was twelve. My parents, environmental scientists, were caught in a sudden flash flood during a fieldwork trip. They had carved out a small air pocket for me between the rock and the mud, their last words echoing: “Asher, live. We’ll be the wind that follows you.” They used their lives. To give me a second chance at survival. Dad, a dear friend of my father, came back from the mountains with me to the Maxwell estate. His eyes were red-rimmed as he held me. “Asher, you must live well, carrying your parents’ hope. Only if you live a good life can they rest easy up there.” So, I had to divorce her. I had to leave Seraphina, who no longer loved me. My words brought the past back for Dad as well. He started to tremble, looking at Seraphina in disbelief. “The person who hurt Asher all those years ago… is the same person who publicly humiliated him on a stream now?” A fleeting look of terror crossed Seraphina’s eyes, but she insisted on defending Blake. “That was years ago! You sued him, Dad! He was expelled! He paid the price. Why can’t we be the bigger people and give him a chance to start over?” Dad’s hand shook so violently he couldn’t hold a grip. He raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. “You wicked girl! We give him a chance? Who gave Asher a chance?! Look at the scars he carries! He destroyed Asher’s future, and you still defend him?! Are you even human?!” His chest heaved, his eyes burning with fury. He turned and grabbed my hand. “Asher, get the divorce! We don’t need this kind of unprincipled creature in the family!” With that. He dragged me out the door, away from the suffocating enclosure of the house. Once outside, tears rolled silently down his red eyes. The hand gripping mine was cold as ice. He choked back a sob. “Asher, why didn’t you tell me you were in so much pain? If anything happened to you, how could I face your parents when I see them again?” Looking at his tear-streaked face. A dense, bitter feeling welled up in my chest, making it hard to breathe. “I’m fine, Dad. It’s all in the past…” I patted the back of his hand lightly. His scalding tears dropped onto my skin. But I knew. This would never be “the past.” I would never forget Blake’s malice. Nor would I forget the triumphant, challenging looks he threw my way whenever Seraphina stood between us, shielding him. “Asher, I… I agree to the divorce. But you have to remember, I will always be your father, and the Maxwells will always be your fallback.” Dad took me back to the Maxwell family’s ancestral home. I used to stay here for a few days when Seraphina was away on business, so my room was kept exactly as I liked it. After I calmed Dad down. I went up to wash. When I came out of the shower. I sent Seraphina a message. “Arrange a time. Let’s go to the courthouse for the divorce paperwork in the next couple of days.” She didn’t reply. The next day, she sent someone over with a crate of the artisan grapes I liked. Mrs. Rodriguez, the housekeeper, opened the box and frowned. “Why are these grapes withered? And they smell sour?” She skeptically picked one off the vine and tasted it. The next moment, her face twisted in disgust. She spat it out hurriedly. “Sir, they’re all rotten.” “Just throw them away.” I didn’t look up, my eyes fixed on the blank chat thread. Immediately, a message from Blake popped up. It was a photo: two crates of plump, vibrant green grapes sitting on a sleek, luxurious office desk. His text read: “Sera just had these air-freighted for me. Too much for one person. Want me to send you some? Oops—I don’t have the old house address. Could you send it?” I stared at the message. I didn’t reply. This wasn’t his first taunt. The first time, he’d been with Seraphina at a charity gala, and she’d drunk too much. He added me on a messaging app, asking for our home address. I wanted to ignore him, but I couldn’t leave Seraphina stranded. I accepted the request and sent the pin. I waited in the living room until 3 AM. They never showed. Just as the sun began to break. He sent a photo—Blake’s bare torso, a careless V sign flashed at the camera, leaning into Seraphina’s sleeping shoulder. The caption: “You know, Asher? We were sleeping together before she made me her assistant. This is number five. Your woman has been mine for a long time now.” That’s when I finally understood. Why she could so easily tell me to forgive him for everything he’d done to me. My illness resurfaced with brutal force. I collapsed, crying, using a shard of broken porcelain to slice my wrist. When Seraphina finally returned. I was unconscious from blood loss. When I woke up. Her eyes finally held a flicker of guilt. She apologized, claiming she was drunk, that it was a momentary lapse in judgment. I didn’t dare tell Dad. I swallowed the bitter pill alone. After that, Blake sent increasingly brazen photos. My medication doses grew larger and larger. One time, even after taking the pills, I still had an episode. Seraphina was gone again, claiming a last-minute business trip. When Blake sent me a pin to their hotel suite. I walked, lost and disoriented, onto the high-rise balcony. I thought, if I just jumped, all of this would end. Just as I prepared to let go. Dad’s call pulled me back. He asked what I wanted to eat the next day. He wanted to cook for me. Hearing his gentle voice. I clamped my hand over my mouth. Stifling the tidal wave of sobs that threatened to drown me. I told him: “I’d like your signature Beef and Barley Stew, Dad.” He would never know. That phone call. Gave me a third chance at life. I stayed at the old house for a week. Seraphina still hadn’t replied. I realized I needed to push her. So. I returned to the house that had witnessed all my humiliation. But this time, the moment I pushed the door open. I heard Blake’s feigned voice of concern: “Sera, are you sure about swapping your actual wedding photo with this fake one of us? Asher already hates me. Seeing this is going to make him even angrier.” “He…” She stopped mid-sentence. She saw me standing in the foyer. She pressed her lips together, then said stiffly, “It was a team-building forfeit. This picture has to stay up for a month.” The full-wall wedding photo of us had been tossed carelessly by the sofa. In its place. Was a clearly photoshopped picture of Blake and Seraphina embracing on a beach, styled as an engagement photo. I didn’t say a word. I walked past Blake, picked up the discarded wedding photo—which looked exactly like a piece of trash—and walked outside. Then. I smashed the glass frame with my bare fist, pulled out the photo, and tore it into confetti, piece by piece. Seraphina’s chest tightened as she watched. An unfamiliar sense of dread washed over her. She strode forward and grabbed my wrist. “Asher Cole, what are you doing?!” “Cleaning up the garbage.” “Stop making a scene, okay?” Seraphina’s eyes were full of reproach, as if she were making a monumental concession. “Asher, as soon as this project is done, I’ll send him overseas. We can go back to how things were, alright?” How things were? Was it when I was hospitalized with acute pancreatitis, and she abandoned an important board meeting to keep vigil by my bedside for three days? Or was it when I was being viciously cyberbullied, and she used all her resources to suppress the media, shielding me and saying, “Asher, don’t be afraid. I’ll always stand in front of you.” She had seen me at my worst, broken and barely human during my first depressive episode. She knew the entire, ugly story of the root cause. And yet she eventually said… He learned his lesson. Give him a chance to redeem himself. She expected me to forgive Blake while she was busy falling into bed with him. She helped him slice me up, one paper cut at a time. “Seraphina, we can’t go back.” There was no emotion on my face. I said calmly, “We’ll get the divorce finalized after Dad’s birthday celebration. Otherwise, I will file a lawsuit.” “I will never agree to a divorce. Don’t even think about it!” Seraphina’s eyes were shadowed and cold as she said this. She didn’t notice the look of theatrical amusement on Blake’s face behind her. The conversation was over. I had nothing more to say. In front of her, I booked a deep-cleaning service right then and there. As I left, I instructed the cleaner: “Remove every single photo of me, every single item that belongs to me. Everything.” I left without a backward glance at Seraphina. In the blink of an eye. It was Dad’s sixtieth birthday party. I arrived early to help him welcome guests, fulfilling my role as the Maxwell son-in-law. But Seraphina arrived with Blake in tow. Meeting my gaze, she looked slightly guilty. She quickly explained: “Blake wanted to apologize to you and Dad in person. He’ll leave right after saying his well wishes. You don’t have to pay any attention to him.” “That’s right, Asher. I came here specifically to make amends. I heard you didn’t like the mousse, so I prepared a different gift.” He walked toward me, a cheerful smile plastered on his face. He stopped half a meter away. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Asher Cole, let’s make a bet. If you win, I walk away from Sera for good. If you lose, you vanish forever. What do you say?” “What are you tryin—” Before I could finish. Blake tore open a small jewelry box. He pulled out a utility knife and violently shoved the handle into my hand. “Guess what happens if you injure me? Will Seraphina hate you forever?” My face blanched. I instinctively struggled to pull my hand away. “Ah! It hurts! Asher, why are you doing this to me…” Before I could even process what was happening. Seraphina, like a gale force wind, charged at me. The next second. A searing, ripping pain exploded in my abdomen. A rush of warm liquid gushed out. I looked down at the knife handle buried in my stomach. I tried to call her name, but I could only slump weakly to the floor. My vision blurred. As my consciousness faded completely, I saw her anxiously supporting Blake, who had only a minor scratch on his hand. She rushed toward the exit without turning back.

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Nine years. Nine years of stolen moments and whispered promises, nine years of being the secret behind the closed door. On my twenty-eighth birthday, my boyfriend of nearly a decade walked into the courthouse and married his high school sweetheart. I stood before him, the question burning silently in my eyes, but Rhys Caldwell’s expression was perfectly serene. “Jocelyn’s heart is failing, Anya. The doctors say she has maybe three months, tops.” His voice was low, clinical, and utterly devoid of remorse. “This was her last wish. I couldn’t let her die with that kind of regret.” Jocelyn Day, his so-called tragic love, leaned against his arm, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. “I hate heavy moods,” she announced, her voice ringing across the lavish dining room. “Since we’re married, we should celebrate.” Just like that, with one casual sentence from Jocelyn, the elegant dinner planned for my twenty-eighth birthday instantly became their impromptu wedding reception. My sister, Eliza, and our circle of friends moved through the room, offering rounds of toasts and congratulations. When it was my turn, I didn’t cry. I didn’t falter. Meeting Rhys’s gaze across the linen-covered table, I raised my glass, my face deliberately blank. “Here’s to the happy couple,” I said, my voice cutting through the expectant silence. “May the bitch and the dog live happily ever after.” 1 The entire room went still. Every eye in the place drilled into me. Rhys’s knuckles were white where he gripped his champagne flute. He patted the empty seat beside him, a gesture that was both dismissive and familiar. “Don’t make a scene, Anya. Come and sit down.” That seat, right next to him, had been my exclusive spot for nearly a decade. Now, he expected me to share it with Jocelyn. I ignored him. I walked straight to the other side of the table and sat down next to Eliza. The warmth drained from Rhys’s eyes, replaced by a sudden, dangerous chill. Eliza laughed, trying to smooth over the tension. “Rhys, darling, we all know you treat Anya like your little sister, but you’re a married man now. Watch the boundaries. We wouldn’t want Jocelyn to get the wrong idea.” Jocelyn tightened her grip on his arm, the picture of a devoted, fragile bride. Rhys gave a low chuckle. “I’m just doing this to give Jocelyn peace of mind. This marriage will be dissolved in three months, naturally.” He looked pointedly at me. “Besides, if I had ever intended to marry Anya, why would I have waited until now?” The friends at the table chimed in, eager to back him up. “He was wrecked when Jocelyn went overseas for grad school. Wrecked for almost a year.” “The most eligible bachelor in the city, and all he did was hang out with us. Never brought a date.” “True. Last time Rhys got drunk, he admitted he was waiting for Jocelyn. We all heard it. Everyone here is a witness.” The chatter swirled around me. I kept my head down, slowly sipping my wine, but my chest felt like it was being beaten with a blunt instrument—a heavy, suffocating ache. I had been with Rhys since I was nineteen. When I was twenty-three, I asked him to make us public. He said Eliza was his most important business partner, and an announcement could impact the company’s stock and external perception. He didn’t think I could handle the pressure. When I turned twenty-seven, he promised that if we were still together when I turned twenty-eight, we would finally announce our relationship. Today was my twenty-eighth birthday. And he was legally married to Jocelyn Day. Jocelyn gave me a sickly sweet smile. “Anya, even though Rhys and I bicker, we are legally husband and wife now. I’m sure Rhys has given you plenty of gifts over the years for your birthdays. Shouldn’t you give us a gift in return? I’ve actually been admiring the ring on your finger. Could you give it to me?” My fingers unconsciously clenched, and my breath hitched. That ring was the token he had given me on my nineteenth birthday—the night he first told me he loved me. I hadn’t taken it off in nine years. Eliza, seeing my silence, tried to diffuse the situation. “Anya, you know Rhys has always held a torch for Jocelyn. They’ve missed so much time. Why don’t you be the bigger person?” I looked at Rhys. He remained silent, saying nothing to defend me or the ring. Not until Jocelyn leaned against him, pressing her head into his chest, her voice a soft, manipulative purr. “Rhys, I really love it. Could you just buy me an identical one? Then I won’t have any regrets.” Rhys chuckled softly and pulled her tighter. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a piece of jewelry, not some rare artifact.” He looked at me, his gaze now cold. “Anya, since your sister-in-law likes it so much, just give it to her.” I was numb. Since I was nineteen, I had followed him without a title, a shadow lover. I spent nine years trying to fit his mold—I swapped my comfortable casual wear for the tight, sophisticated clothes he admired. I maintained the secret because he loved the novelty of a forbidden affair. But in that moment, I understood. My nine years of devotion meant less than dust in his estimation. Jocelyn basked in Rhys’s indulgence, and as the table roared with drunken cheers, she kissed him on the mouth. I didn’t yell. I didn’t break down. I quietly slipped the ring off my finger and placed it on the edge of the table. “Mr. Caldwell is right,” I said, meeting his eyes. “It’s not worth much. If the sister-in-law wants it, she can have it.” Rhys stared at me, his eyes now blazing with controlled fury. Jocelyn gasped, enjoying the attention. Rhys loosened his jaw, giving a cold smile. “Since Anya is being so generous, Jocelyn, you should take it.” Jocelyn picked up the ring, examined it for a moment, and her lip curled in distaste. “The setting is only mediocre, not nearly as nice as the ones you bought me.” With a shrug, she tossed the diamond to a passing waiter who was clearing the bone plates. “Lucky you,” she drawled. “Should fetch a decent bit of cash.” I watched the ring roll to a stop beside a smear of food. My blood instantly froze in my veins. Rhys looked at my ashen face, his voice chilling. “Why are you still standing there? We are celebrating my marriage tonight. Everyone stays until the end and everyone is going to enjoy themselves. No one is leaving early.” My face was transparent with shock and pain. “No need. You all have fun. I have other plans.” As the words left my mouth, Rhys’s face darkened completely. I ignored him, turned on my heel, and walked out of the banquet hall. Back in my apartment building’s underground garage, the notification bar on my phone remained silent. Rhys didn’t send a single word of explanation. But he had updated his social media. I tapped the screen. The video showed him and Jocelyn playing a blindfolded grape-feeding game, which quickly turned into a passionate, staged kiss amidst the cheers. As their lips intertwined, everyone in the video was lamenting the nine lost years Jocelyn and Rhys had missed. No one spared a thought for Anya Wells, the woman hidden for nine years. In the video, Jocelyn’s cheeks were flushed, and she delicately kissed his jawline. Rhys didn’t pull away. His eyes held that look—a familiar, nearly frantic devotion—the look he used to give me when he was overwhelmed by desire. Now it belonged to Jocelyn. Rhys, if this is your answer, then I release you. I forced a humorless twist to my lips. Then, I tapped the ‘like’ button on his post. After that, I began systematically clearing the apartment of every trace of my existence. I had pleaded with Rhys to go public countless times. I’d charmed him, argued with him, and even blurredly questioned him in the throes of our most intimate moments: When can we finally be open? He always had an excuse. Until Jocelyn appeared. He introduced her to every friend, told everyone to call her his wife, and married her publicly. In this moment, I was entirely lucid. He wasn’t avoiding public commitment. He was avoiding public commitment to me. After packing my last box, I drove back to my own home. As soon as I stepped inside, my parents, who were traveling overseas, called me via video chat. “Anya, do you remember Leo Harrington, the boy who used to always look out for you when you were little? He’s back in the States running the family business. You should find time to meet up.” During my years with Rhys, my parents had tried to introduce me to numerous eligible young men. They only needed me to agree. Each time, I refused. I was twenty-eight years old. It wasn’t too late to start a new life. Under their hopeful, cautious gaze, I didn’t refuse this time. “Yes,” I said. Shortly after, I submitted my resignation to the group’s Human Resources Department. Because I had been so deeply in love with Rhys, I joined his corporation right after graduation, starting as an assistant. To help him through difficult periods, I’d pull all-nighters analyzing data, reviewing case studies, and revising proposals. I lost almost twenty pounds during one major push. Rhys had been full of sympathy, sending nutritional meals from his personal chef directly to my desk. Even though our relationship was a secret, his care for me had never been disguised. That special attention would now belong entirely to Jocelyn. Not long after the email was sent, Rhys called. When I answered, there was a dead silence on the line. In the past, no matter who called whom, I was always the one to initiate the conversation. This time, I didn’t have the strength to utter a single word. Just as I thought he wouldn’t speak and I prepared to hang up, his voice—tight with irritation—came through. “Anya Wells, what exactly do you think you’re doing? Liking a post, then submitting your resignation? You can’t wait three months?” His voice hardened. “Don’t you worry that I might actually leave you?” I used to be terrified of that. Absolutely terrified. That’s why I was always compliant and agreeable in his presence. I didn’t want to pretend anymore. “Rhys,” I said quietly. “Let’s just end it.” The day after I suggested we break up, I received notification that my resignation had been approved. The HR tone was strictly business. I was required to complete my handover immediately and was not allowed to set foot in the group headquarters after today. Clearly, Rhys was truly enraged this time. As I walked through the departments, I heard the inevitable whispers. “The only reason Mr. Caldwell paid attention to her was because of Eliza, the CEO. She really thought she was going to move up, but look at her now—running off with her tail between her legs.” “So what if the CEO indulged her before? She embarrassed the actual Mrs. Caldwell yesterday. She deserves to be cleaned out.” I ignored the ridicule, calmly processing the paperwork. Once the final stamp fell, I would be done with Rhys Caldwell. “Wait a minute.” Rhys’s cold voice came from behind me. Jocelyn was hanging on his arm, giving me a look of undisguised challenge. “The core documents for this morning’s bid were leaked. I heard Ms. Wells here was responsible for those files,” Jocelyn said. I turned to Rhys. “Are you accusing me?” “We’ll know soon enough,” he said, his face impassive. “A quick check of your work terminal will clarify everything.” Rhys gave a brief nod. Immediately, two people from the Group’s Tech Department swarmed my desk. This was a public conviction without a trial. I had spent several sleepless nights developing those bid documents. And now, Rhys was questioning my loyalty. “Don’t touch my machine!” They weren’t just checking the current files; they were attempting to recover deleted data. If they succeeded, all the intimate photos I had deleted, and the history of my relationship with Rhys, would be exposed. Security guards held me back. I couldn’t reach my desk. “Rhys, tell them to stop. I had nothing to do with the leak.” Rhys clamped his hand tightly around my wrist, his face a mask of iron. “Are you sure it wasn’t you?” The murmurs grew louder around us. “It has to be Anya Wells. Why else would she freak out?” “Maybe she’s doing this out of spite. She couldn’t have the CEO, so she leaked the documents to a rival. That’s cold.” Rhys cut them off with a chilling command. “Silence. Are the files recovered?” “They are!” I spun around. “Don’t open them, Rhys!” Rhys’s grip tightened on my wrist. “Open them.” The intimate photos—hundreds of them—flashed across the monitor screen, stripping away my last vestige of privacy. The overwhelming sense of humiliation threatened to break me entirely. Rhys’s expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, he smiled. He began scrolling through the photos, one after the other. “Anya Wells, do you have some kind of delusion?” he said, his voice laced with mocking disbelief. “Where did you find all these pictures? Did you Photoshop my face onto someone else’s body?” At his words, a wave of sneering laughter erupted from the onlookers. The humiliation was a physical force, drowning me. He married Jocelyn in secret; I endured it. My birthday dinner became their reception; I accepted it. But I never imagined he would publicly trample my dignity like this. Jocelyn gave a mocking, triumphant smile. “Anya, do you have a crush on Rhys? If you just admit it, I can lend him to you for a few days.” Rhys frowned in annoyance. “Stop playing along with Anya’s drama, Jocelyn. Everyone knows I see Anya as a little sister. If you like those pictures so much, I can have the tech guys make you a few with my face and yours.” He was punishing me for leaving by deliberately and publicly denying our entire history. Each word was a tiny, sharp needle pressing into my heart. I squeezed my palms so hard the pain was blinding, determined not to let a single tear fall. Jocelyn looked satisfied. “Rhys, you shouldn’t hurt a girl’s feelings like that. At least let her save face. What if she runs away, like I did years ago? You’ll have a hard time winning her back.” Rhys scoffed, not believing I had the guts to leave permanently. “Where would she go? She’s either following Eliza or following me. She’s throwing a tantrum. In three days, she’ll be begging me to let her come back.” In the past, our cold wars never lasted more than forty-eight hours. I always gave in first. I always came back to him. But the Anya Wells standing here now no longer loved him. How long would it take him to realize that? I was growing numb to the surrounding laughter. When the tech team withdrew, I looked directly at Rhys. “Mr. Caldwell, since it’s proven the leak had nothing to do with me, shouldn’t you apologize?” A chorus of condemnation immediately rose up. “Is she crazy? Asking the CEO for an apology? Who does she think she is?” “She should be grateful he’s letting her walk away. Just because they didn’t find evidence doesn’t mean she wasn’t guilty.” Rhys frowned, his impatience obvious. “I was following company protocol by checking your equipment before you resigned. You want an apology for that? Anya Wells, are you mad, or am I?” My voice was terrifyingly calm. “There were hundreds of photos on that terminal. You know exactly where they came from. Nine years, Rhys. Is a simple apology for the public humiliation too much to ask?” A flicker of something complicated—pain, perhaps—crossed Rhys’s eyes. Jocelyn, ever the martyr, walked toward me, her smile gentle. “It was thoughtless of us, Anya. If you’re truly offended, I’ll apologize on Rhys’s behalf.” Then, she suddenly began to gasp for air, clutching her chest. Rhys’s expression tightened instantly. He rushed to support her, his voice a furious snarl. “Apologize for what? This has nothing to do with you. Where does it hurt?” He glared at me, as if I were a terrible criminal. “Anya Wells, you can take your anger out on me, but she is a sick person. Why are you intentionally provoking her?” Jocelyn shook her head weakly. “I’m fine. She’s young. I’ll just explain things to her clearly.” She gently pulled away from Rhys and moved toward me. I instantly caught the flash of triumph in her eyes. Before I could even react, she dropped backward and sat heavily on the floor. The room fell silent. Everyone saw that she had fallen on her own. Everyone, except Rhys. He rushed toward me like a maniac and shoved me hard. I stumbled, slamming my hip into the metal filing cabinet behind me. A sharp, twisting cramp erupted in my lower abdomen, and my face went instantly white. But Rhys didn’t even spare me a glance. “Anya Wells,” he spat, already focused on Jocelyn. “You better pray Jocelyn is alright, or I swear I will make you wish you were dead.” The man I had loved for nine years, threatening to make me wish I was dead for the sake of a liar. The last spark of light in my heart extinguished entirely. Then, an astonished cry broke out in the crowd. I reached down and found my hand covered in a warm, slick wetness. Blood was soaking through my clothes. Before I lost consciousness, Eliza—my strong, beautiful sister—screamed, her arms shaking as she caught me. “Don’t be afraid, Anya. I’m here.” After rushing Jocelyn to the emergency room, Rhys received a phone call from my sister. Eliza’s voice, a scream of pure rage he’d never heard, echoed in the silent hall. “Rhys Caldwell, are you a monster? I will deal with you later!” “Right now, you get over here. Anya miscarried.”

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I sponsored Caleb Vance for ten years. From a trailer park nobody to Hollywood’s A-list heartthrob. Tonight was his big night—Best Actor at the Golden Screen Awards. I sat in the shadows of the mezzanine, genuinely happy for him. The host asked about his journey to fame, prompting him to thank someone special. Caleb gripped the golden trophy, his gaze sweeping the audience with laser precision until it landed on me. The spotlight hit me instantly. I blinked, blinded and flustered. But Caleb looked into the camera, his handsome face twisted in disgust. “I want to thank that woman up there,” he said, his voice dripping with venom, “for teaching me what harassment looks like.” “She claims to be my sponsor. For ten years, she has bombarded me with letters and stalked me to every event.” “Today, I just want to tell her: your delusions make me sick.” “I, Caleb Vance, earned this award myself. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.” The audience gasped. Twitter blew up instantly. Millions of insults flooded my notifications. But on the massive screen behind him, the credits for his production company began to roll. Founder & CEO: Victoria Sterling. That is my name. Chapter 1: Public humiliation “Omg, that’s her? She looks normal, but she’s a psycho stalker?” “Ten years? Yikes. Caleb is a saint for dealing with that.” “Gross. Keep that creep away from me.” I sat frozen in my seat. My phone vibrated violently in my clutch. I didn’t need to look to know that my face, tagged as “The Stalker,” was trending #1 nationwide. On stage, Caleb basked in the applause. He looked down at me, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of revenge. Security guards approached me as the ceremony awkwardly continued. I stood up. Under thousands of gazes filled with judgment and morbid curiosity, I walked toward the exit. As I passed the VIP row, a starlet in a pink haute couture gown suddenly stuck out her foot. I tripped, lurching forward and slamming my knees hard onto the carpeted floor. “Oops! Sorry about that… ma’am.” It was Bella Rose, the new “it girl” my company had just started promoting. She covered her mouth in mock surprise, but her eyes were curved into crescents of pure malice. “I didn’t mean to. Why were you walking so fast? Rushing to stalk someone else?” A ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the crowd. I pushed myself up, sharp pain shooting through my knees. A pair of polished dress shoes stopped in front of my face. Caleb. He looked down at me like I was a pile of garbage on the sidewalk. “Done making a scene?” His voice was low, but every word was a dagger. “Ms. Sterling, you’re embarrassing me.” I looked up. Under the stage lights, his face was flawless, but his words were colder than ice. “I warned you. Stop showing up in front of me.” Bella immediately clung to his arm, staking her claim. She whispered in a frightened, baby voice, “Caleb, don’t get mad. It’s not worth it. She’s so scary… what if she has a knife?” Caleb patted her hand gently. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” He looked back at me, his gaze freezing over. “Security, throw her out.” “From now on, this woman is banned from any event I attend.” Two burly guards grabbed my arms, their grip rough and humiliating. I was half-dragged toward the backstage exit. As we passed an empty dressing room, Caleb’s voice rang out from behind. “Wait.” The guards stopped. Caleb walked over and waved them away. The door clicked shut. In the narrow room, it was just the two of us. He dumped a heavy cardboard box at my feet. “These are those trash letters you wrote.” “I’m giving them back.” “I never read a single word.” Spilling out of the box were hundreds of letters I had written over the last decade. Every single one carried my hopes and encouragement for him. Now, he called them trash. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, whispering so only I could hear: “You know what? Every time I see your self-righteous face, I want to vomit.” “You think throwing some money at me makes you my savior?” “Let me tell you, Victoria. The thing I hate most is people looking at me like I’m a stray dog.” “Your cheap charity was the biggest insult of my life.” My body went rigid. He knew my name. He had known all along. “You…” “Surprised?” He straightened up, smiling cruelly. “I investigated you ages ago. You’re just a nobody running a small agency. Did you really think you were someone important?” He raised his hand as if to pat my face, then stopped mid-air as if touching me would dirty him. Instead, he flicked my collar with a finger. “Stop dreaming.” “We are not in the same world.” He turned and opened the door. Bella was waiting right outside. Seeing me, a flash of triumph crossed her eyes before she switched back to her innocent mask. “Caleb, let’s go. The after-party is starting.” “Yeah.” Caleb walked away without looking back. The door closed slowly in front of me. I looked at the letters scattered on the floor. The pain in my knees mixed with the pain in my chest. My phone finally stopped vibrating. I pulled it out. A text from my assistant, Leo. “Boss, the company website… it’s been hacked.” Chapter 2: The Truth I didn’t go home. I had the driver take me straight to the office. The skyscraper was empty at midnight, save for the lights in my corner office. Leo was pacing anxiously at the door. Seeing my torn dress and bruised knees, his eyes instantly reddened. “Boss, you…” “I’m fine.” I pushed the door open. “What does PR say?” “It’s useless.” Leo’s voice trembled. “It’s a coordinated attack. The bot farm is massive. Our statements get buried instantly. The whole internet is destroying you. They even doxxed the office address; people are threatening to protest tomorrow.” I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the traffic below. “Where is Caleb?” “The after-party… is still going. He and Bella are trending #1. The headline is ‘A Match Made in Heaven’.” Ironic. I built his throne with my own hands, and he climbed it just to hold another woman while trampling on my bones. Leo knelt to clean the wounds on my knees. The sting of the alcohol wipe snapped me back to reality. “Boss, let’s call the cops. This is defamation!” “Won’t work.” I shook my head. “He’s smart. He only said ‘that woman.’ He never named me. If I defend myself now, the public will just see it as a guilty stalker lashing out.” “Then… what do we do?” I didn’t answer. My gaze fell on a framed photo on my desk. It was ten years old. A scrawny boy in ill-fitting clothes, lips pressed into a stubborn line, eyes wild and fierce like a wolf cub. That was the first time I met Caleb. No, back then, his name was Cletus Miller. In that forgotten, poverty-stricken town in Appalachia, he had been cornered by a shopkeeper for stealing a sandwich. The man was beating him with a broom handle. Everyone called him “white trash,” the son of addicts, a thief. Only I walked over and paid the man. I asked him, “Why did you steal?” He didn’t speak. He just clutched the dirty, squashed sandwich to his chest. I learned later it was his little sister’s birthday. She hadn’t eaten in three days. I took him out of that hellhole. I gave him a new name: Caleb Vance. A name that sounded strong, clean, successful. I sent him to the best private schools. I paid for his life, his sister’s medical bills, everything. I wrote him letters telling him to stand tall, to read, to see the world. The day he got into drama school, he called me for the first time. His voice shook with excitement: “Vic! I got in! I’m going to make so much money. I’ll pay you back, I promise!” That nickname, “Vic”… I remembered it for years. When he entered Hollywood, to protect his ego and image, I established this agency. I used every connection I had to pave his road. I retreated behind the scenes, becoming the mysterious “Ms. Sterling.” I thought I was the person he trusted most. Turns out, it was just a one-woman show. My phone pinged. A DM from a verified account. It was Bella Rose. “Auntie Victoria, are you asleep? Sorry about tonight. Caleb is just so… honest. He hates liars.” “He says people like you, trying to hijack his life with a little charity, are disgusting.” “Oh, and Caleb said those letters you wrote made him feel dirty just looking at them. He burned the rest in the trash can backstage.” “Auntie, you should have some self-awareness. Don’t covet things that don’t belong to you. Right?” Every word was a poisoned needle. I turned off the phone and looked at Leo. “Notify Legal and PR. Mandatory board meeting. Tomorrow morning, 9:00 AM.” Leo paused. “Boss, are we…?” I looked at the black sky outside. “We are taking back everything I gave him.” Chapter 3: The Counterattack 8:50 AM. I arrived at the lobby. It was swarming with paparazzi. Flashbulbs went off like strobe lights. “Ms. Sterling, do you admit to stalking Caleb Vance?” “Is it true you used your money to harass him?” I put on my sunglasses, kept my face stone cold, and let security wedge a path to the executive elevator. As the doors closed, I heard someone scream, “Don’t let her run! Expose the pervert!” 9:00 AM. I pushed open the conference room doors. The entire executive team, Legal, and HR were present. My seat—the head of the table—was empty. But sitting right next to it were Caleb, his agent Mark, and Bella Rose. Seeing me, Mark’s face darkened. “How did you get in here? Who let her in?” Bella let out a dramatic gasp and hid behind Caleb. “Caleb! She… she followed us to the company! Is she going to hurt you?” Her voice was sugary sweet, painting me as a monster. Caleb patted her back, then lifted his eyes to me. Pure disgust. “You again. What the hell do you want?” “Was humiliating yourself on national TV not enough? Now you chase me to my agency? Have you no shame?” I ignored him and walked straight toward the head of the table. Mark jumped up, blocking my path, chest puffed out. “Ma’am, this is a private board meeting. Get out before I call the cops!” “Yeah, throw her out!” Bella peeked out, grinning viciously. “She’s insane! The CEO, Ms. Sterling, will be here any minute. You don’t want her to see this trash!” “Ms. Sterling?” I repeated the name softly, a dry laugh escaping my lips. I scanned the room. The executives looked down or stared at their iPads. They knew who I was, but nobody spoke. Cowardice is human nature. Caleb was the company’s cash cow. I was currently the most hated woman in America. Caleb leaned back, crossing his legs, looking at me with charity. “Look, you helped me a few times back in the day. I won’t press charges for last night.” He pulled a black Amex card from his wallet and flicked it onto the table. “There’s a hundred grand on this. Take it and vanish. Don’t let me see you again.” A hundred grand. That wouldn’t even cover one month of his sister’s dialysis treatments I paid for years ago. Bella squealed. “Wow, Caleb, you’re a saint! She stalked you, and you give her money? You’re too kind!” She picked up the card and tried to shove it into my hand. “Hear that, Auntie? A hundred grand. Enough for a nobody like you to live on for years. Take it and roll.” I didn’t take it. Her hand froze in mid-air. “What? Not enough? Don’t be greedy.” Caleb lost his patience. “Security!” he barked. “Get this woman out of my sight! Now!” Two guards rushed in. The room watched in silence. In their eyes, I was a dead dog being kicked to the curb. I finally lifted my eyes, looking past the circus to Leo. “Leo.” My voice was calm. Leo nodded, picked up the conference phone. “Get Mr. Henderson from Legal and Director Lee from HR up here. Also, tell security to remove these trespassers.” I pointed at the guards who had just rushed in. The room went deadly silent. Chapter 4: Identity Revealed The silence was suffocating. The guards stood confused, looking between Caleb and me. Mark laughed, a nervous, barking sound. “You? Who do you think you are? Summoning legal? Do you think you’re the boss?” Bella giggled, her body shaking. “Caleb, did you hear that? She’s roleplaying CEO now! She’s totally lost it!” She turned to Leo, snarling. “And you! A little assistant playing along with a psycho? You’re fired! Get out!” Leo went pale but stood his ground behind me. Only Caleb didn’t laugh. He narrowed his eyes, studying my calm face, looking for a crack. “What game are you playing?” I didn’t answer. I looked at the head of security. “Did you not hear me?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried authority. The head guard exchanged a glance with his partner, then nervously stepped toward me. “Ma’am, please don’t make this difficult…” The doors swung open. Mr. Henderson, the chief counsel, and Director Lee walked in. Mark beamed, rushing to them. “Henderson! Lee! Thank God. This crazy woman broke in. Get rid of her!” Bella ran to Director Lee. “Director, fire that assistant too! He’s helping the stalker!” The two executives ignored them completely. They walked straight to me. In front of everyone, they bowed slightly. “Ms. Sterling. Sorry we’re late.” Those two words hit the room like a bomb. Mark’s jaw unhinged. Bella’s smug smile froze, then shattered into pure terror. She began to tremble. And Caleb… The disgust, the arrogance, the pity—it all vanished. His face went blank with shock. His pupils dilated. He stared at me like he was seeing a ghost. The world seemed to stop spinning. I walked slowly, step by step, to the head of the table. Mark, who was blocking the chair, stood paralyzed. I stopped in front of him. “Move.” His knees buckled. He practically crawled out of the way. I touched the cold leather of the CEO’s chair. Then, I sat down. I slid a file across the mahogany table toward Caleb. The title was bold and clear: NOTICE OF CONTRACT TERMINATION. Caleb’s eyes locked onto the signature line at the bottom. The printed name. Victoria Sterling. He started to shake. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Ms… Sterling?” He choked the name out. “You… you are Victoria?” I leaned back, lacing my fingers together, looking at him like a stranger. “Mr. Vance. Is there a problem?” “No… impossible…” He shook his head like a madman. “Impossible… you’re just…” “Just what?” I cut him off, ice in my voice. “The stalker? The delusional fan? The ‘disgusting’ woman you threw a hundred grand at?” Every word drained more blood from his face. Bella had collapsed into a chair, unable to speak. I turned to Director Lee. “Director, announce the personnel changes.” Lee cleared his throat, opening a folder. “Effective immediately, Mark Davis is relieved of his duties as Talent Director. Bella Rose’s contract is terminated for breach of morality clauses and damaging company reputation. We will be suing for damages.” “As for Mr. Caleb Vance…” Lee paused, looking at me. I tapped the termination notice. I smiled at Caleb. It was the first time I smiled in three days. “Caleb. You said your success had nothing to do with me, right?” “Good.” “Now, give back everything you took from me. With interest.”

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“A year-end bonus of $2,000, and you expect me to be grateful?” The smile froze on HR manager Susan’s face. I’ve been at this company for 8 years, wrote 1.27 million lines of code, and supported 3 core systems. Year-end bonus, $2,000. “Chris, you have to understand the company’s difficulties…” I laughed. I took a piece of paper from my bag and placed it in front of her. A resignation letter. The date was today. 1 Susan stared at the resignation letter, stunned for a full five seconds. “Chris, don’t be impulsive.” “I’m not impulsive,” I said. “I’ve thought about this for a long time.” 8 years. From joining as a fresh graduate to now, exactly 8 years. I was employee number 7, arriving earlier than most of the management. Back then, the company operated out of a residential house. A few of us tech guys squeezed into a room less than 200 square feet. No AC in summer, no heating in winter. The first line of code I wrote is still running today. “You know if you leave now, the year-end bonus is gone, right?” Susan said. “$2,000,” I said. “I don’t want it.” Susan’s expression turned a bit ugly. “Chris, I know you feel aggrieved, but you have to understand…” “Susan,” I interrupted her, “do you know how much overtime I worked last month?” She didn’t speak. “187 hours,” I said. “Averaging 6 hours of overtime every day. No overtime pay, no compensatory leave, not even a single ‘thank you’.” “This… the company does have some issues with overtime culture…” “It’s not an issue of overtime culture,” I said. “It’s that you take my dedication for granted.” Susan opened her mouth but couldn’t say anything. I stood up. “What’s the process?” “You… are you really sure?” “I’m sure.” Susan looked at me with complex eyes. “Do you know you’re on the layoff list?” I was stunned for a moment. “What?” “In this round of layoffs, you’re on the list,” Susan said. “Ranked first.” I stared at her, thinking I heard wrong. “Ranked first?” “Yes.” “The reason?” Susan lowered her head, afraid to look at me. “Highly replaceable.” These two words, like a knife, stabbed into my chest. Highly replaceable. Me? The person who built the entire payment system from scratch? The person who maintained 3 core modules alone for 8 years? The person who was called up at 3 AM to fix bugs, went to work as usual the next day, and never took a sick day? Highly replaceable? I suddenly laughed. “Fine,” I said. “Then let’s see you try to replace me.” Susan looked up, her expression a bit panicked. “Chris, what do you mean?” “Nothing.” I picked up my bag. “I’ve submitted my resignation letter. You arrange the process.” “Wait…” I didn’t wait. Pushed open the door and walked out. The hallway was quiet. Sunlight shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the wall with the company values written on it. “People-oriented.” “Growing together.” “Grateful for the journey.” I looked at these words and found them ironic. 8 years. I gave my youth, time, and energy, all to this company. What did I get in return? A phrase “highly replaceable.” I took a deep breath and continued walking forward. Passing by the pantry, I heard people chatting. “Heard 20% are getting cut this time.” “Really? Is the list out?” “Out, out. I heard Chris in the tech department is ranked first.” “Chris? The one who doesn’t talk much?” “Yeah, yeah, that’s him.” “Isn’t he an old timer? 8 years, right? Why cut him first?” “Heard the team lead proposed it, saying he’s highly replaceable.” “Huh? He’s highly replaceable?” “Who knows, anyway, what the team lead says goes.” I stood at the door, didn’t go in. Those two people were still chatting. “He seems to be in charge of the payment system, right?” “More than that, seems like there’s also risk control, settlement… I don’t understand the specifics.” “Then what about these systems?” “Don’t know, anyway, the team lead said no problem, can find someone to take over soon.” “Alright then.” I had heard enough. Turned around and went back to my desk. Opened the computer and started organizing things. 8 years of files, emails, code records. I won’t take anything belonging to the company. But I will take myself. My ability, my experience, my understanding of this system. These are not on any server. They are in my brain. You say I’m highly replaceable? Then show me a replacement. 2 While organizing things, my mind was full of images from these 8 years. In 2016, I just graduated with a master’s degree in computer science from a top university and joined this startup with only 30 people at the time. The person who interviewed me was Mr. Wang, the current CTO. Back then, he didn’t have so much gray hair and wasn’t so greasy. He told me: “Chris, although our company is small, we have dreams. Come, let’s make this big together.” I believed him. On the first day of work, I was assigned to the payment group. There was only me in the group. “The payment system is the core,” Mr. Wang said. “You must do it well.” I asked: “Just me?” “Just you for now. When the company has money, we’ll hire people for you.” I waited for 8 years. Didn’t wait for a single person. The payment system from 0 to 1, from 1 to 100, was all coded by me line by line. Later, the company expanded its business, adding risk control and settlement systems. No one took over, still me. I alone shouldered 3 core systems. Crashed in the early morning? Me. Bugs during holidays? Me. Urgent new requirements online? Me. I don’t remember how many times I was woken up by phone calls at 3 AM, opening my computer with sleepy eyes to fix bugs. Fixed, dawn broke, went to work as usual. No overtime pay, no compensatory leave, no one said a word of thanks. Because everyone thought this was what Chris should do. Isn’t Chris always like this? Chris won’t refuse. Chris has no life, Chris only has work. Yes. I have no life. Had a girlfriend once, she said I was too busy with work and had no time for her, broke up. Parents urged me to marry, I said too busy with work, no time for blind dates, they scolded me for being unfilial. Friends gathering, I was always absent, because who knows when I would be called to fix bugs. I gave all my time to this company. What did I get in return? In 2018, the company’s first financing, valued at $20 million. That year my year-end bonus was $5,000. In 2020, the company’s second financing, valued at $100 million. That year my year-end bonus was $8,000. In 2022, the company went public, market value $500 million. That year my year-end bonus was $10,000. 2024, now. Company market value $800 million. My year-end bonus, $2,000. I don’t understand. The company gets bigger and bigger, but my year-end bonus gets smaller and smaller. I went to ask HR. Susan said: “Chris, the company’s efficiency is not good this year, everyone is tightening their belts.” I said: “But I saw the news, the company’s profit increased by 30% last year.” Susan smiled: “News, you know, there’s a lot of water in it.” I went to ask the team lead again. Linda, my current direct leader, parachuted in two years ago. She worked in a big tech company before, resume looks beautiful, can’t write code, but very good at reporting. She said: “Chris, your problem is you don’t know how to manage up. You did so many things, but the leaders don’t know. You have to learn to express yourself.” I said: “I write weekly reports every week, monthly reports every month, and I send email reports every time a big requirement goes online.” She said: “That’s different. Your reports are too technical, leaders can’t understand. You have to learn to use language leaders can understand.” I stopped talking. I indeed can’t speak pretty words. I only know how to write code. But isn’t writing code valuable? Without code, how does the company operate? Without my 8 years of dedication, where does the $800 million market value come from? I couldn’t figure it out. Until this year’s year-end rating came out, I completely figured it out. That day, I saw my grade: B. What is the concept of B? It means “normal.” Not good, nor bad. Year-end bonus coefficient 0.5. And Linda, my leader, rated S. S is the highest level. Year-end bonus coefficient 2.0. She came for 2 years, what did she do? Changed the format of my weekly report, reported up. Added a cover to my technical plan, reported up. Changed the wording of my code achievements, reported up. Oh, right, she also did a big thing. Changed the color of a button in our system. From blue to green. For this one thing, she reported 3 times and won an “Innovation Award.” I wrote 1.27 million lines of code, rated B. She changed a button color, rated S. This is the company’s values. This is their interpretation of “people-oriented.” 3 I thought I was chilled enough. Until I saw that optimization list. Actually, Susan didn’t intend for me to see it. I discovered it myself. That noon, I went to find Susan to ask about the resignation process. She wasn’t at her desk, computer was on, an Excel spreadsheet on the screen. “2024 Q4 Organizational Optimization List”. My name was on the first line. The remark behind wrote: “Suggested optimization reason: Long working years, serious salary inversion, highly replaceable. Suggested by: Linda.” I stared at those words, heart pounding. Salary inversion. Yes, my salary is indeed not high. 8 years, my salary rose from $120k at entry to current $250k. Average increase less than $20k per year. And the fresh graduates recruited last year started at $220k. Interns I mentored, salary higher than me after conversion. Newcomers I taught, now leaders of other groups, annual salary twice mine. I applied for salary adjustment. Applied every year. Rejected every year. The reason is always: “Market is not good this year.” “Company budget limited.” “Wait a bit more, there will be adjustments next year.” I waited for 8 years. Waited for the words “serious salary inversion.” Highly replaceable. These two words make me feel even more ironic. In the whole company, only I understand all the logic of the payment system. Only I can save the crashed system at 3 AM. Only I know what those legacy codes are about. Highly replaceable? Can you find a second Chris? But I didn’t question anyone. I just silently returned to my desk and continued organizing things. At 3 PM, Linda came to find me. “Chris, heard you resigned?” “Yes.” “Don’t be impulsive,” she looked kind, “It’s year-end, if you leave now, you won’t have the year-end bonus.” “$2,000, don’t want it.” She was stunned for a moment. “You resign just because the bonus is small?” “Not because of the bonus,” I said. “Because I don’t want to do it anymore.” “Did you find your next job?” “No.” “Then you quit without a job?” She frowned. “Chris, you are 32, naked resignation at this age is very dangerous.” “Thanks for caring.” She sighed. “Chris, I know you might have some opinions about me. But you have to understand, the rating thing is not decided by me alone.” I didn’t speak. “Your work is indeed done well, but you have to learn to express. Look at you, never talk in meetings, never mention ideas, how do leaders know your ability?” I still didn’t speak. “And…” she lowered her voice, “to be honest, everyone has seen your code, indeed written okay. But this thing, anyone else can do it too. Technology, whoever writes it is the same.” This sentence made me completely give up hope. Technology, whoever writes it is the same. Good. Then let “whoever” write it. “Linda,” I finally spoke, “do you know what the core logic of the payment system is?” She was stunned. “This… I’m not from a technical background…” “Do you know how many requests the risk control system processes per second?” “This is too detailed…” “Do you know how the reconciliation logic of the settlement system is designed?” She stopped talking. “You know nothing,” I said, “but you say whoever writes it is the same.” “Chris, what is this attitude?” “Just this attitude.” I stood up. “I’ve already submitted the resignation letter, leaving in a month. This month, I only do handover, no new requirements.” “You…” “Also,” I looked at her, “you said I’m highly replaceable. Then show me a replacement.” 4 That night, I didn’t work overtime. As soon as off-work time came, I packed up and left. This was the first time in 8 years. Before, I never dared to leave on time. Because there were always endless bugs to fix, requirements to do, meetings to attend. But today, I don’t care. Anyway, I’m leaving. The moment I walked out of the company gate, I took a deep breath. The night wind blew on my face, a bit cold, but very clear. 8 years. I’m finally leaving this place. Phone rang. It was Mom calling. “Chris, how come you have time to answer the phone at this hour?” “Mom, I resigned.” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. “Resigned? Why?” “Don’t want to do it anymore.” “Don’t want to do it? You are 32, what will you do if not this? How much savings do you have? How long can it last you?” “Mom…” “Your dad is in poor health, I need medicine every month, your brother just bought a house, mortgage hasn’t been paid off…” “Mom, I know.” “You know and you still resign? Chris, is your brain broken?” I was silent. “Explain clearly to me, what happened? Were you fired?” “No, I quit myself.” “Then why?” “Because…” I thought for a moment, “Because they said I’m highly replaceable.” Mom was stunned. “What replaceability?” “It means I’m not important, can be replaced anytime.” “Then let them replace, you find the next one. Why are you so impulsive?” “Mom, I worked in this company for 8 years.” “I know.” “8 years, I gave all my time to them. No weekends, no holidays, no life of my own.” “Isn’t work all like this?” “Mom, my year-end bonus, only $2,000.” Silence again on the other end. “$2,000… is a bit little?” “More than a bit. I wrote 1.27 million lines of code, supported 3 core systems of the company. $2,000, not enough for my food for a month.” Mom sighed. “Then resign if you resign. Anyway, you are at this age, take this time to go on blind dates and find a wife.” I smiled bitterly. “Mom, I’m hanging up.” “Wait…” I didn’t wait, hung up directly. I knew Mom didn’t understand. She never worked in her life, didn’t know what workplace meant. Didn’t know what it meant to give without return. Didn’t know what it meant to exchange 8 years of youth for a phrase “highly replaceable.” But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need her to understand. I just need to know myself, what I am doing. That night, I returned to my rental apartment, cooked a bowl of instant noodles. Eating instant noodles, I started counting. How much savings do I have? 8 years of work, saving frugally every month, saved about $500,000. Not much, but enough to last me two years. Two years time, enough for me to find the next job. Or, do something myself. I don’t know what the future holds. But I know, I can’t be like this anymore. Finished instant noodles, I opened the computer. Not for work, but to write a document. A handover document. I want to write down all knowledge, experience, logic of these 8 years. Not for the company, for myself. This is my professionalism. I can leave, but I won’t sabotage. Code is still their code, system is still their system. I only take away things belonging to me— My ability, my experience, my brain. Writing until 2 AM, I finally finished. Looking at that document of over 100 pages, I suddenly wanted to laugh a bit. Over 100 pages. 8 years of painstaking effort, condensed into over 100 pages. But I know, no one can truly understand these 100+ pages. Because true knowledge is in my brain. Those historical pits, those hidden bugs, those logics only I know. These cannot be explained clearly by a document. I closed the computer, went to bed. Starting tomorrow, I am a free man.

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The text message popped up the moment I walked in the door after work: “Babe, I sent you that little triple-chocolate cake you love. It just arrived! Open up!” In the first life, I opened the door, didn’t see a thing, and was stabbed to death instantly. In the second life, I didn’t open the door and hid in the closet, but the killer broke the lock, and I died in the closet. In the third life, I scrambled into the basement ventilation shaft. The killer couldn’t find me and left. But the moment I crawled out of the vent, the killer was there, grinning maniacally and raising his dagger. Until my death, I never understood how the killer always managed to find me so precisely. I blinked open my eyes again, and the familiar knocking sounded from outside my door. My first instinct was to slam the deadbolt shut, and I was just about to look for a hiding spot when a layer of pop-up text floated above my head. This hadn’t happened in the first three lives. 【The side character is finally going to die. The Heiress is about to have a double harvest in love and career. This is great!】 【So excited! According to the setup, the side character is just an NPC designed to push The Heiress’s storyline forward. Why can’t she just wait to die gracefully?】 A side character? An NPC? Were they talking about me? I froze for a second. They want me to just wait for death? But why? I was a person made of flesh and blood. I wanted to live! 1 The shock lasted only a few seconds. Snapping out of it, I sprinted into the bathroom, turned the shower on full blast, then grabbed an old, prepaid phone. I threw it onto the sink after hitting play on a few songs I had cached previously. Then, I quickly dove behind the abandoned clawfoot tub in the corner of the storage room. The whole process took less than a minute. Outside the door, the killer, disguised as a delivery driver, began twisting the doorknob. His voice was sickly sweet, carrying a note of deranged intimacy: “Little mouse, are you tucked away? I’m coming in now.” As he finished speaking, the lock clicked open. My nerves instantly tightened. The next second, the door swung inward. A set of light, measured footsteps slowly moved across the living room. In the bathroom, the water was still running, roaring down the drain. The footsteps paused for a moment in the living room and then headed straight for the bathroom. “Hmm, looks like she’s taking a shower.” There was a strange hint of excitement mixed in his tone. The pop-up text above me was still scrolling nonstop: 【OMG, what is the side character doing? Can she stop making futile efforts?】 【So stupid. This killer is the serial murderer from the news. Thirty people in six months, never failed. The side character is so overconfident!】 【But that tub in the storage room is genuinely well-hidden. As long as she doesn’t get reckless and try to run out the front door, she might actually survive this episode. After all, the big iron security door leading outside is already locked!】 I watched the text scroll, my breath catching in my throat. A cold sweat broke out on my back. That had been my original plan. The storage room was right next to the front door. I would lure the killer into the bathroom and then make a break for it. But now, I pressed my hands over my mouth, my body rigid and curled up under the tub, terrified of making the slightest sound. The bathroom door was open. The loud rush of water was unnervingly clear in the quiet apartment. A second later, the water shut off. The man’s voice, trembling with perverse excitement, rang out in the room: “Such an interesting little mouse. I’ve changed my mind. When I find you, I’m going to slice you into little pieces. It might be very tasty boiled in a hot pot.” The bedroom door was pushed open. He was muttering to himself: “Not under the bed, not in the closet, not behind the curtains… Where could she be?” The ghostly voice echoed through the apartment, and the slightly erratic footsteps slowly drew closer to the storage room. I tightly clutched my chest, terrified that my frantic heartbeat would give me away. The footsteps drew nearer to the tub. My heart shot into my throat. A rustling sound came from outside the tub, then the footsteps headed toward the door. “Looks like she’s not here either. Where in the world is she hiding?” The pop-up text paused for a moment, then rapidly scrolled again. 【Holy hell, is she actually going to escape this time? Then what about The Heiress? Boohoo, will the side character go back and steal the heir position from The Heiress? Is The Heiress’s sweet romance going to be ruined?】 【Ugh, refund, refund. I paid to see The Heiress’s sweet romance, not this side character’s awakening. What kind of plot is this?】 In the middle of the frantic scrolling, my phone suddenly vibrated slightly. It was a text from Sierra: “Babe, did you eat the cake yet? I bought it with my Christmas bonus. Got paid and rushed right out to get it. Aren’t you happy?” The vibration of the phone was faint, but the killer, who had just stepped out of the storage room, suddenly turned his head to look at the corner where the tub sat. A strange, eerie smile stretched across his mouth: “Sweetheart, I’m going to find you now!” 2 【The side character is finally getting her just desserts! The money wasn’t wasted!】 【But I have to say, did the side character’s best friend seriously not get bought off—pfft, I mean, seduced by The Heiress’s charm? She always messes up the side character at the crucial moment.】 【Upstairs, are you empathizing with the side character? She’s just an NPC. She’s destined to die tonight. What does her best friend have to do with it? Besides, aren’t all the NPCs here to serve the main character?】 The pop-up text was scrolling fast, but I couldn’t focus on it. The footsteps drew closer, and the killer crouched down, grabbing the edge of the old tub. I was paralyzed with fear, my body trembling slightly, uncontrollably. The next second, the tub was violently flipped over. The bizarre smile on the killer’s face instantly froze. He stared intently at the lonely phone beneath the tub, his eyes deepening with interest. “No one has managed to play games with me this long. Little mouse, I’m getting more and more interested in you. I hope I don’t catch you too quickly.” 【Oh my god, when did the side character get out from under the tub? Where did she hide this time? I was watching the whole time! How did I not notice she wasn’t under the tub?】 【+1. But, suddenly, I kind of like the side character. Can’t a smart, decisive character like her live for a few more episodes?】 【Actually, I saw it. The side character never actually hid under the tub. She just tipped the tub and tossed the phone underneath, hiding herself in the narrow crevice, like a little step, right behind it. That’s a blind spot, so the killer missed it.】 【Seriously? Did the side character know her best friend was in on it from the start?】 That last pop-up guessed the truth. Yes, I knew Sierra was deliberately setting me up from the beginning. In the first life, it was her message that made me drop my guard and open the door. I thought it was my best friend’s love arriving. I didn’t know it was a serial killer coming to take my life. In the second life, I was hiding in the closet. The moment the killer got close, a message from Sierra popped up. In the third life, I barely managed to dodge the killer and crawl into the ventilation shaft. I thought I was saved, but I ran right into the killer waiting for me at the exit. But how did he know, with such precision, that I had climbed into the vent? There was only one possibility: my phone had tracking software installed. And it was just a few days ago that Sierra had ‘accidentally’ cracked my screen. She apologized profusely and took it to the original service center for repair. I only got the phone back today. Looking back, how could there be so many ‘coincidences’ in the world? It had been a calculated ambush targeting me from the start.

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I spent a lifetime with Carter. We had a son and a daughter, stayed together until our golden anniversary. But on his deathbed, gravely ill, our son asked him if he had any final wishes. “After I die, bury me next to your aunt Bella. That is the only thing I have ever truly wanted.” The room went silent. Everyone looked at me with pity. I nodded, my face numb. “Do as he says.” People whispered behind my back. I had spent fifty years serving his parents, raising his children, and being a perfect wife, yet I couldn’t even keep his heart in his final moments. I was a joke. But they didn’t know that if I had a second chance, I wouldn’t have married Carter in the first place. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was my wedding day. Just as I remembered, Carter had run away, leaving me at the altar to face the humiliation of the crowd alone. I didn’t feel shame. I felt relief. I exhaled a breath I felt like I’d been holding for a lifetime. My gaze drifted slowly to a man in a black suit sitting in the corner. “Damon,” I called out, my voice steady. “I’m short a groom. Are you willing to fill the spot?” 1 My words dropped like a bomb. The entire ballroom went dead silent. Even the man chugging whiskey in the corner froze. He looked up, eyes wide with disbelief. “What did you just… say?” The corners of Damon’s eyes were slightly red. When he looked at me, a flicker of hope ignited in his dark gaze. I smiled. Ignoring the gasps of the guests, I walked firmly toward him. “I said, I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?” Damon stared at me, stunned. His lips trembled slightly, unable to form words. Before he could answer, Carter’s mother rushed forward, grabbing my arm. “Layla, honey, I know that idiot son of mine hurt you today, but I’ve already sent people to drag him back.” “He’s just being immature. He’s acting out.” “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, you are the only daughter-in-law I’ll accept. Don’t let your anger make you do something stupid. You can’t just marry someone else out of spite!” I smiled gently and pulled my hand away. “Mrs. Sterling, you can’t force love. I don’t have to marry Carter. You should just let them be together.” In my past life, I knew Carter’s heart belonged to my younger sister, Bella. But Bella had a wild history. She’d dated a string of boyfriends and had health complications that left her unable to have children. Mrs. Sterling, obsessed with lineage, refused to let her in the door. Plus, Carter and I were childhood sweethearts. Our families had arranged the marriage, and I had loved him since we were kids. It made sense for me to take the role. Everyone thought we were a model couple who made it to our golden years. But only we knew the misery behind closed doors. In sixty years of marriage, we slept in separate rooms for fifty-five of them. 2 Carter hated me. When I was in the hospital, suffering through a difficult labor, he didn’t show up once. Every year on our child’s birthday, he spent the entire day at the cemetery. He drank himself into a stupor constantly, calling out Bella’s name in his sleep. I thought feelings could grow. I thought trauma could fade. But year after year, we just became two ghosts haunting the same house. It wasn’t worth it. Now that I had a do-over, I was letting him go. And freeing myself. Mrs. Sterling looked frantic seeing me hold Damon’s hand. “Layla! You are the wife I chose for my son! How can you marry him?” “I’ve never liked Bella’s manipulative little acts. I don’t care why she called Carter away today, I will not let him bring that woman into my house!” In my past life, on this very day, Bella committed suicide by jumping into the ocean when she heard we were actually getting married. She left a note and a video. “Carter, I have to call you ‘brother-in-law’ now. But I love you, and I can’t say those words.” “I envy my sister. She gets you so easily. My luck always runs out.” “If there is a next life, Carter… let me be the one to marry you.” Mrs. Sterling had thought she was bluffing and forced the wedding to continue. But Bella really jumped. By the time the reception ended, her body had been pulled from the water, cold and lifeless. This time, Carter wasn’t going to let her die. When he got Bella’s video message, his eyes went bloodshot, and he sprinted out of the church without a backward glance. In my last life, I was devastated. Now? I felt nothing but relief. I turned back to the man in front of me. “Damon, if you want to marry me, come up to the altar.” 3 “This wedding belongs to us now,” I whispered. Damon smiled, a genuine, dazzling smile, and gripped my hand tight. “Okay.” The room exploded into chaos. Carter’s groomsmen were whispering frantically, texting Carter. “Bro, you really messed up this time. Layla is marrying someone else.” “I thought Layla was obsessed with Carter? Why is she swapping him out so fast?” “And why him? Of all people, she picked Damon Vance. The notorious playboy.” “She’s probably just doing it to make Carter jealous because he ran off.” I walked Damon down the aisle, our fingers interlaced. Damon’s hand trembled slightly. He lowered his head. I knew why everyone was whispering. Damon had a terrible reputation. He was known as a trust-fund baby who spent his nights in clubs, surrounded by scandals and models. His name was mud in our social circle. Decent families wouldn’t let their daughters near him. There were even vicious rumors that his promiscuous lifestyle had left him with incurable diseases. But I knew the truth. That wasn’t him. “Layla, are you acting on impulse?” Damon asked, his voice low. “If you just need to save face, I’ll play along. I’ll help you.” “But don’t ruin your life just to win an argument.” My heart ached for him. Just as I was about to reassure him, the church doors were kicked open with a bang. “Layla! Stop this nonsense!” “Marriage isn’t a game! You can’t just swap the groom! Get your ass over here!” My father stormed in. He must have heard the news. Guests stood up out of respect, some trying to curry favor with him. But he only had eyes for me, and they were filled with rage. “Why are you standing there? Are you deaf?” Damon frowned, whispering to me, “Go. Don’t embarrass your dad.” I stood my ground. As a child, I was terrified of that look. Whenever he glared at me, I folded. He told me to give my favorite toys to Bella. I did. He told me to give the biggest bedroom to Bella. I packed my bags. 4 Even when he told me to marry Carter, I dutifully tried on dresses and took etiquette classes to be the perfect Sterling wife. But today, I was going rogue. “Dad, I’m marrying Damon.” My voice was calm, cutting through the tension. “I’ve listened to you my whole life. But this time, I’m choosing the person I want to spend my life with.” Slap! The sound echoed through the high ceilings of the venue. The room went dead silent. “You ungrateful brat! If you marry Damon today, you are no daughter of mine!” I looked at him, touching my stinging cheek, and smiled. “Fine. Let’s sever ties then.” No one expected the obedient Layla to say something so rebellious. My father’s face turned white, his chest heaving. “You… you’re disowning your father for this piece of trash?” “I spoiled you too much! That’s why you’re so out of control!” Since my mom died and he married my stepmother, bringing Bella into the family, hitting me had become normal for him. He raised his hand to slap me again. But before it could land, a hand with prominent knuckles caught his wrist in a vice grip. Damon stepped in front of me, his expression icy. “Touch her again. I dare you.” He growled the words. Tears pricked my eyes. Growing up, no one had ever protected me like this. Everyone thought I was crazy for marrying the “playboy.” But only I knew the truth. In my past life, on the day I was dying in childbirth, it was the anniversary of Bella’s death. My husband and my father were both at the cemetery, mourning her. No one cared if I lived or died. The doctors issued a critical condition notice.

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After starting high school, my mom gave me a monthly allowance of $50,000. My desk mate was green with envy and engineered a soul swap with me. She excitedly ran towards the luxury limo: “Woohoo! The rich mom is mine now!” I silently shouldered her tattered backpack, hopped onto her mom’s little electric scooter, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Great, I finally escaped my mom. 1 Before school let out, Chloe handed me a cup of boba tea: “This is the first time I’m treating you. I saved up for half a month to buy the most expensive one, please don’t turn it down.” I hesitated for a moment, but eventually took it politely and took two symbolic sips. It was strawberry, my favorite flavor: “Thanks, it’s delicious.” As soon as I finished speaking, a white light flashed before my eyes. When I opened them again, I was shocked to find that I had swapped souls with Chloe. “Chloe, you…” “Shh, you are Chloe now. From today on, I am Summer. The rich mom is mine!” 2 Looking at the excited Chloe, I suddenly understood. Not long ago, she borrowed money from me to buy boba tea and accidentally saw my seven-figure balance. She was so shocked she counted the digits several times. “Summer, how do you have so much money?” “My mom gives me $50,000 a month. I just saved it up.” “Your mom… is so rich. What does she do?” “She runs a few companies.” “Wow, that’s amazing! You’re so lucky!” Chloe complained while drinking her tea. “My mom is a stay-at-home mom and she’s stingy as hell. She only gives me $15 for lunch every day. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have to borrow money from you.” I listened quietly, swallowing as I looked at the boba tea in Chloe’s hand. Actually, I envied her too. Because after I turned ten, I never drank boba tea again, nor did I ever taste happiness. 3 After that day, Chloe often told me she was fed up with her mom and wanted to be my mom’s daughter. I thought she was just saying it on a whim. I didn’t expect her to actually swap souls with me to steal my mom. “Summer, accept your fate. You and I will never swap back in this lifetime.” While I was distracted, Chloe drank all the drugged boba tea in her hand and ran towards the black luxury van that came to pick me up every day after school. Watching her cheerful retreating figure, I slowly put on her old backpack, found her mom’s electric scooter in the crowd, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Great, I finally escaped my mom. 4 “Chloe, did something good happen today?” Chloe’s mom handed me a helmet. She wasn’t wearing makeup, wore a pair of dirty slippers and a black jacket. She looked a bit thin and her complexion wasn’t great, but her eyes were incredibly gentle when she looked at me. “Yeah, a difficult problem I couldn’t solve before suddenly got solved.” I answered while trying to put on the helmet. Being unfamiliar with it, I got the strap stuck inside. Seeing this, Chloe’s mom immediately parked the scooter and helped me put the helmet on properly. Instead of scolding me, she affectionately pinched the tip of my nose: “You’re acting like a little kid. Sit tight now.” I obediently sat on the electric scooter. The tip of my nose, where Chloe’s mom had touched, suddenly felt a bit tingly. From the age of ten, I started living alone. My mom was very busy, flying all over the world. She never picked me up or dropped me off at school, nor did she allow me to waste time acting spoiled with her. We hadn’t touched each other in a long time. Our communication was like boss and employee: she gave orders, I executed them. If I did well, she transferred money; if I did poorly, there would be punishment. Thinking of the various punishments I had experienced, I suddenly shivered. The fear engraved in my bones instantly spread throughout my body. I quickly comforted myself in my heart: Don’t be afraid, you are Chloe now, not Summer. You won’t die. 5 Returning to Chloe’s home, it was even smaller than I imagined. The living room was a bit messy, with children’s picture books and toys piled on the sofa. Right, Chloe mentioned she had a younger sister who was not yet three years old. “Chloe, are you still angry with Mom?” Chloe’s mom took out a shoe box and put it on the coffee table: “Mom saved up and bought you the shoes you liked. Look, are these the right ones?” I opened the shoe box. Inside was a pair of fake Loro Piana shoes. I was certain they were fake because just last week, my mom bought me a real pair and required me to wear them to school on the 15th of every month. Although I didn’t like those shoes at all, I numbly obeyed her order and wore the Loro Pianas to school on the 15th. Chloe noticed the new shoes, specifically checked the price, and then sulked for a whole day. “Chloe, did Mom buy the wrong ones?” Chloe’s mom’s gentle and cautious inquiry pulled me back to reality. Looking at her expectant eyes, a warmth surged in my heart: “No, it’s just that my classmate has these shoes too. Can I choose another pair?” “Of course. Here’s the phone. Add the ones you like to the shopping cart. Mom is going to pick up your sister from the neighbor’s house first.” Chloe’s mom handed me the phone and turned to leave the house. It turned out she had to leave her younger daughter with a neighbor every day to free herself up to pick up her older daughter. But a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl could have taken the bus to and from school by herself long ago. She didn’t actually need to pick her up every day. Was it to save the $4 bus fare? I stared at her phone. It was an old model from three years ago, with two cracks on the screen. Both the wallpaper and lock screen were photos of Chloe and her sister together. It was evident that Chloe’s mom was very frugal and loved her two children very much. It’s so good. Such a good mother is mine from now on. 6 Because I chose a cheap pair of shoes and patiently read picture books with my sister, Chloe’s mom specially made a large plate of sweet and sour pork to reward me. That night, for the first time, I ate according to my own preferences, picking whatever I wanted and eating as much as I wanted, instead of eating at fixed times and quantities according to my mom’s requirements. Those nutritional meals and body-shaping meals that spanned my entire adolescence were perfect but also cold. The sweet shrimp air-freighted directly from Argentina lacked a trace of motherly warmth, far inferior to the dishes carefully cooked by Chloe’s mom in my bowl. “Chloe, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” “No, it’s just that the sweet and sour pork Mom made is so delicious, I can’t bear to eat it.” “Silly girl, if you like it, eat more. Mom will make it for you again tomorrow.” Saying that, she put all the sweet and sour pork from the plate into my bowl, not leaving a single piece for herself. My eyes felt a bit sour. The broken bones and emotions in my body suddenly began to heal bit by bit. So being loved by a mother feels like this… Like a spring breeze, like the warm sun in winter. But just when I thought I would slowly pull myself out of hell in this warm family, Chloe’s mom got into a big fight with her husband because of me. 7 Two in the morning. The sound of the door lock turning came from the living room. Chloe’s mom got out of bed quietly. I was a light sleeper and woke up in a daze, just in time to hear the man’s roar from outside the door: “She’s a girl, isn’t $15 enough for a meal? Why increase the food allowance?” “Chloe loves meat. Now a meat dish costs seven or eight dollars alone. Sometimes she buys stationery or something, it really isn’t enough.” “If she spends so much, she might as well stop studying and go sell herself sooner!” The room fell silent, and my heart pounded. Go sell herself sooner… he couldn’t mean that, right? I couldn’t believe a father could say such vicious words. “Husband, three years ago, you asked me to quit my job to have a second child. You agreed to give $5,000 a month for household expenses. Two years ago, you said the pressure was high and reduced it to $3,500. This year, you only give me $2,000 a month. Then make up the $3,500, and I’ll increase our daughter’s food allowance.” “Bang!” It sounded like a vase breaking. Chloe’s dad exploded: “You three females only know how to ask for money all day long! You can’t even give birth to a son, why should I spend $3,500 to support you? With $3,500, I could raise a chicken outside and it would still lay eggs!” Another suffocating silence. I thought that after being humiliated like this by her husband, Chloe’s mom would definitely propose a divorce. But she said nothing, just returned to the room in disappointment. I quickly closed my eyes. She didn’t notice I was pretending to sleep. She tucked me in, sat beside me, and wept silently. At that moment, I suddenly understood why Chloe wished she had a rich mother so much. 8 In the morning, Chloe’s mom apologetically told me that the neighbor had something to do and couldn’t help watch my sister, so I had to take the bus to school myself. “Mom transferred $24 to your WeChat. $4 for the fare, $20 for lunch.” “Wasn’t it $15…” Last night, Chloe’s dad clearly refused to increase the food allowance. “You are still growing, you can’t skimp on food money. An extra $5 a day is only $130 more a month. Mom will add it for you.” Chloe’s mom touched my face: “Chloe, don’t mistreat yourself at school. Buy whatever you want to eat.” The thin calluses on her fingertips gently rubbed against my skin, a little ticklish and a little painful. I couldn’t help but hug her: “Thank you, Mom.” Chloe’s mom clearly paused. She gently patted my back and muttered: “You child, it’s like you’ve changed into a different person.” I instantly sobered up. I didn’t expect her to notice the anomaly so quickly. I ran out of the house as if escaping, taking out the phone I hadn’t taken out at home yesterday. Unlocking the screen with my fingerprint, Chloe’s messages popped up one after another. 9 [The etiquette teachers just praised me, saying I’ve improved a lot compared to before.] [I got three A’s in oral English class. If it were you, would you get none?] [The psychology teacher is so cute, hahaha. She actually seriously advised me to feel the sunshine more. My life is so happy, even if it rains every day, it won’t get me wet.] [Hehe, did you know? The butler just reported to Mom that I successfully completed all the goals for Tuesday. My mom was very satisfied and casually bought me a haute couture dress.] Haute couture? What’s there to be happy about? There were more than ten haute couture dresses in the cloakroom. Those expensive and luxurious clothes were not as comfortable as school uniforms to me. Because once I put on those haute couture dresses, my name became “President Su’s Daughter.” In those suffocating occasions, even my emotions and expressions didn’t belong to me. “Chloe, your mom can’t take you to school again today?” Jasmine from the next class called out to me. Her sympathetic voice pulled me out of bad memories. I paused slightly and smiled at her: “Yeah, Mom has to take care of my sister.” Jasmine tilted her head and naturally took my arm to walk together: “Why aren’t you angry today? Didn’t you hate your sister?” Hate my sister? Chloe’s sister was like a soft little dumpling. When she blinked her big eyes and called me “sister” in a milky voice, my heart melted. Why would Chloe hate her? Was it because of money again? 10 Sitting on the bus, I continued reading the messages sent by Chloe. [Mom is returning to the country next week. I’ll tell her then that I want to go back to a private school and then study abroad.] [Desk mates for three years, we are somewhat fated. As long as you keep my high school experiences a secret for me, I can give you a hush money before I leave.] In the early morning, she sent a photo of the brilliant night view outside the bedroom’s floor-to-ceiling window: [Envious? Chloe, this is the top floor of a mansion you will never reach, and a life you will never have.] The last two messages were from five minutes ago: [Princess transferred $100 to you.] [Chloe, just saw you waiting for the bus. Your mom left you alone for your sister again, right? So pitiful. Take a taxi to school quickly. I’ll wait for you in the classroom.] I clicked to receive the money and turned off the screen. It seemed Chloe adapted very well to the identity of “Summer.” She could accept those tasteless nutritional meals, accept the tense and oppressive three-on-one tutoring sessions, and accept the empty home without any relatives or vitality. She was simply the perfect daughter tailored for my mom. My mom always wanted a daughter who obeyed her instructions precisely like a robot. Seeing Chloe’s performance yesterday, she must finally be satisfied. Wait… I suddenly realized something and gripped the phone tightly, but my palms still sweated from fear. Chloe made three fatal mistakes!

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My wife’s startup failed. It wiped out everything we owned. I’ve been chaining three jobs together, working triple shifts, just to ease the burden on her. I was suspended thirty stories up, scrubbing the glass facade of The Pinnacle, while inside, a lavish birthday celebration was underway. I glanced through the window, a flicker of professional envy mixed with exhaustion, and then I saw her—my wife, Sienna. She was pushing out a towering cake made of cash, presenting it to the elderly woman seated in the center. The muffled chatter of the guests drifted through the glass, loud enough to catch: “The location alone is impossible to book, but Ms. Sienna rented the entire executive floor for her mother-in-law’s birthday!” “She must have scattered millions in those cash packets at the entrance alone!” Suspended in the air, I froze. Nobody knew that Ms. Sienna’s mother-in-law had died in a hospital just yesterday. When my own mother, Georgia, was sick, lying in her hospital bed, she kept gripping my hand and begging me. “Son, stop the treatments. I don’t want to be a burden to you and Sienna anymore.” I frantically called Sienna, desperate to ask her to let me use my payroll card—the card she managed—to pay for Mom’s treatment. When I turned back, Mom was gone. She had jumped from the floor above. She had neatly folded her jacket, and on top, a small stack of bills. I picked it up, my hands shaking. It was a mix of crumpled singles and tens, all folded together. Fifty-three dollars and change. I couldn’t find Sienna, so I rushed through the necessary arrangements for my mother’s funeral and then hurried to my window-washing gig. Three hundred dollars an hour. It used to be enough to feed our family of three for days. Seeing Sienna, the woman inside the opulent five-star hotel, caused a visceral, unreal sense of dissonance. Was the woman casually dropping millions inside really my wife, who just yesterday wore patched jeans and shared a simple bowl of broth and pasta with me? 1 The cold wind roared, and I shivered, finally shaking myself out of the stupor. Mechanically, I pulled out my phone to call Sienna. No answer, again. My foreman spotted the phone and signaled to the crane operator to pull me up. The moment my feet touched the ground, a helmet was thrown at my face. “Using a phone during work! Are you trying to get yourself killed? You’re fired!” The helmet grazed my forehead, leaving a thin trail of blood. It hurt. This wasn’t a dream. Lost, I stumbled toward the lower floors, where I ran into a throng of excited hotel staff. “Ms. Sienna is handing out cash packets! All you have to do is say one nice thing!” The ballroom was decked out in a staggering display of wealth—a million dollars just for the floral arrangements, people were whispering. I pulled my mask tighter over my face and followed the crowd toward the noise. When it was my turn, I stared at Sienna—resplendent in a deep-red silk designer gown and expensive jewelry—and the guest of honor. My throat closed up. “I… I wish you a long life. Happy sixtieth birthday,” I mumbled, the words feeling like ash. If my mother hadn’t died, she would have turned sixty this year. Just last week, I was telling Sienna how I wanted to take Mom out for a nice dinner. Mom just squinted at me and shook her head, saying that paying off our debt was the best gift of all. Now, we were separated by life and death. Sienna didn’t recognize my voice. She smiled warmly and handed me an envelope. “Here you go. Best wishes.” My hands were trembling as I took the thick packet. I could feel the substantial wad of cash inside. This amount, which could have saved my mother’s life, Sienna was handing out to hundreds of strangers without a second thought! Someone jostled me in the scramble for more packets, and I stumbled. In front of everyone, I, in my filthy work uniform, fell to the floor. A thousand judgmental, pitying eyes turned my way, and I felt a wave of humiliation wash over me. As I struggled to get up, a hand reached down to me. “Are you alright?” I looked up. It was the other man of the hour: the mother-in-law’s son. Owen. The very friend Sienna said she’d invested with, the one who led to her ‘failed startup.’ The man who had supposedly caused us to lose everything. Now, I knew the truth. We were the only ones who had lost everything. A flicker of malicious pleasure crossed his eyes, too quick to fully register. I flinched away from his hand, intending to stand on my own, but the next second, someone kicked me. I fell, splayed out like a turtle on its back, instantly drawing all attention. Even Sienna was looking our way. She started walking toward us in her heels, but I scrambled up immediately and fled. I couldn’t let her see me looking like this. Not now. Stepping out of the building, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number. I accepted, and a video immediately loaded. It was Sienna and Owen, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Owen’s low voice cut through the silence. “How long are you going to keep up the game with that fool?” Sienna let out a light, cold laugh. Her words echoed in my ear, brittle and cruel: “If you hadn’t bet me, I wouldn’t have lasted this long.” “The old woman is sick. If he knew I had money, he’d find a way to ask me for it.” My mind went blank. Sienna knew. She knew my mother was sick! She had seen every one of my frantic texts begging for money, and she had ignored them. I stumbled home, into the cramped, dark basement studio, and laughed a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Was I supposed to admire her dedication? She lived in this dingy hole with me for three years. She had played her part perfectly. She was always smiling and attentive to my mother, even sharing our roof. She’d told us her parents were gone and she cherished the feeling of ‘home’ she found with us. After her ‘failure,’ I sold our house to cover the debts. Even Mom sold her most treasured possession, the jade bracelet inherited from her own mother. I’ll never forget the way Sienna cried with gratitude when she took the money, promising she was done with ventures and would settle down with me. Her tear-stained face was utterly unrecognizable from the beaming, victorious woman I’d just seen. Staring at the four walls of the narrow room, I finally lost control and screamed, then sobbed. Before Sienna, I was doing well. I was the first in my family to make it to the city. I brought my mother here, vowing to give her a good life. I met Sienna at a company dinner. She was in a cheap, faded work dress, timidly enduring harassment from a senior executive. I used a toast as an excuse to pull him away, earning a grateful look from her. Later, when Mom brought me lunch at the office, she found Sienna sadly eating a dry bun with cold water. After that, Mom always insisted I bring an extra meal for Sienna. Things progressed naturally. Our wedding was simple, but Sienna swore it was the happiest day of her life. Then came the startup, the failure, and the debt. We were her rock. It was all a game. A cruel, elaborate game between wealthy people. I was the only one who had loved her truly. My mother, who loved her like a daughter, paid for that love with her life. Before I could even dry my tears, the hospital called. “Mr. Han, your mother signed an organ donation agreement before her passing. We’ve found a match. Could you come and say your final goodbye?” Organ donation? When had my mother signed such a thing? I rushed to the hospital, only to collide with Sienna and Owen as they were pulling out of an ambulance! Sienna was rushing in her high heels, her voice strained with urgency. “My mother-in-law is O-negative, and she suddenly collapsed. I’ve mobilized all the O-negative blood in the city! Do everything you can to save her!” I stood frozen, watching Sienna brush past me. If she’d just looked up, she would have seen me, witnessed the entire scene. But she didn’t. Even knowing my mother was sick and waiting for the money she never sent, Sienna’s entire focus was on Owen’s mother. I walked the heavy steps toward the morgue. A doctor and nurse were waiting. They showed me the signed donation papers. The doctor patted my shoulder. “Mr. Han, your mother was a deeply noble person. She is performing a great act. Her organs will save three families.” I ran my fingers over the signature Georgia had carefully written. My mother, the small-town woman, who barely knew how to read, had practiced for a long time to learn how to write her name. Now she was gone forever. Her body… the wounds were too severe. I couldn’t bring myself to look again. I finally let the tears fall, shaking with uncontrollable grief. The doctor’s eyes were wet. He just squeezed my hand. After a long moment, I wiped my face and looked at the medical team. “I’m sorry. I won’t hold you up. Please don’t waste any more time.” “I know Mom will be happy knowing she saved so many people.” They bowed in unison, a gesture of profound respect for my mother. Just as they prepared to load the organs for transport, a man rushed over. “Who is the donor’s family? Our CEO, Ms. Sienna, is offering a high price for the donor’s heart as a backup!” he announced, his eyes locking on me. He launched into a condescending explanation. “Sir, I have great news for you. Our CEO’s mother-in-law is having some minor heart issues, and we need a backup. Ms. Sienna is willing to pay five million dollars for that heart. Are you interested?” To him, it was a massive stroke of luck. No one turns down that kind of money. But I shook my head. “It’s already matched with the right person. You could give me ten times that, and I wouldn’t sell.” I looked pointedly at the ambulance that had been stopped. “My mother’s life may not be as ‘precious’ as Ms. Sienna’s mother-in-law’s, but you’ll have to find someone else.” I still couldn’t believe Sienna would go to this length for Owen’s mother. Five million dollars for a backup heart. I recalled the pathetic desperation of my attempts to borrow money, nearly bowing down to strangers. I gave a bitter laugh. Sienna, what other insane depths can you sink to? The assistant’s face paled, but he immediately pulled out a stack of cash and shoved it into my hand. “Money is no object! Everyone knows our CEO is the city’s top female entrepreneur!” I paused, adding a silent amendment to his boast: and the woman who played me for a fool. I shook my head again. The donation was Mom’s last wish. I had to fulfill it. As we were locked in a standoff, the transportation doctor hurried out, his face grim. “Mr. Han, I’m sorry. We just received notice that your mother’s donation may have to be temporarily delayed.” Before I could react, I was struck by something and fell backward. When I looked up, dollar bills were raining down on me. The assistant’s voice was full of contempt. “Your kind is no match for Ms. Sienna’s power! Mr. Owen is the love of her life, and his mother is family. This money buys your mother’s life many times over—never mind just a heart.” I sat on the floor, my tears mixing with the bitter smell of money. Buy my mother’s life? It would have taken so little. Less than a single packet of cash Sienna had handed out at the door. The assistant, carrying the cooler containing my mother’s heart, started to walk away. I lunged, grabbing his leg. “That’s my mother’s heart… you can’t take it!” My mind was a white blur. I only knew I had to protect her last possession. He kicked me, trying to wrench the box free. I held on tight, not letting go even as blood streamed from my head. My mother’s organ was not Sienna’s commodity to buy and sell! It was meant to save a life, not be a backup for Owen’s mother. Just then, Sienna’s voice, accompanied by the click of high heels, drifted closer. “Little Zhang, you still haven’t gotten rid of the heart’s family?” I froze. I wanted to call out to her. I wanted to ask what she needed to do to finally leave my mother in peace. “Si—” The assistant immediately silenced me with a glare and pulled me into a dark corner. “You think you can complain to the CEO?” He sneered, kicking me again for good measure. “Drag him away quickly! Ms. Sienna shouldn’t have to see this mess.” I struggled violently, shouting, “I’m her husband! Ask Sienna! Ask her whose name is on the marriage certificate!” “Ask her how she has the gall to steal her own mother-in-law’s heart!” The air went silent for a moment. Then the assistant burst into contemptuous laughter. “Everyone at Sterling knows Ms. Sienna loves Mr. Owen like life itself. She gifted him half the company shares without blinking!” “And you,” he scanned my battered, pathetic figure, “even the security guards at Sterling wear custom suits. How am I supposed to believe you’re the CEO’s husband?” “Get real!” He waved his hand, and several men dragged me away. Separated by a single wall, my tears poured out as I heard Sienna sharply demanding to know why the simple matter wasn’t resolved. “Do they want more money? Give them more! Whatever the cost, get that backup heart secured!” The assistant immediately bowed and apologized. “Ms. Sienna, a lunatic was here claiming to be your husband…” “He also said…” The assistant hesitated under Sienna’s fierce gaze, then forced the words out. “He said… that heart belonged to your mother-in-law.”

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