Category: English

Late one night, as I stood in front of the mirror removing my makeup, my reflection started talking. I couldn’t hear it, but I could read its lips: Don’t use the red umbrella! I laughed. Red umbrella? I was too broke to own any umbrella. The next day, a torrential downpour trapped me at work. “Here, use mine.” My supervisor, Julian, handed me a red umbrella. 1 Julian was young, thirty, successful, and handsome—the golden bachelor of the office. But all I could focus on was the red umbrella in his hand and the terrifying memory of last night. As I was washing my face, my body suddenly froze. My head snapped up against my will, locking eyes with my reflection. The “me” in the mirror seemed alive, mouthing a silent message. Fear paralyzed me. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move a muscle. I was forced to watch as my reflection repeated the warning: Don’t use a red umbrella when it rains. Once the message was delivered, my reflection returned to normal, and I regained control of my body. I didn’t even finish removing my makeup. I sprinted to my bedroom, buried myself under the covers, and eventually fell into a restless sleep. I had dismissed it as a hallucination until now. The red umbrella in front of me made my blood run cold. “What’s wrong? Is it not good enough for you?” Julian asked with a smile. “No, it’s just…” Before I could come up with an excuse, Bella, the office “pick-me” girl, rushed over and snatched the umbrella. “If Sarah doesn’t want it, I’ll take it! Julian is just being nice,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him. “Julian, maybe we can walk together? This umbrella is big enough for two.” Julian’s smile didn’t waver as he pulled another umbrella from his bag. “No need. I have another one.” He opened his umbrella and walked away. Disappointed, Bella grumbled and left with the red umbrella. I was left alone in the lobby. Desperate to get home, I braved the rain and ran to the nearest subway station. By the time I got home, I was soaked to the bone. “Should have just taken the umbrella,” I muttered, shivering as I changed. “The mirror thing was probably just stress. I’m losing it.” Suddenly, my phone buzzed violently. I checked the group chat with my coworkers. They were blowing it up. I scrolled to the top and froze. A news link: “Rainy Night Butcher Strikes Again in City Park!” The thumbnail was a blurred photo of a female body. Lying next to it was the red umbrella Julian had tried to give me. 2 I clicked the link frantically. The article was sparse on details, clearly rushed to break the news. I scrolled through the group chat, looking for more information. Mike, a coworker I was friendly with, mentioned something: “They found the body so fast because the killer called the police and the newspaper himself! By the time cops arrived, he was gone.” The conversation moved on, but I needed to know more. I messaged Mike privately. Me: Mike, is that news real? Mike: Which one? Me: The Rainy Night Butcher. Mike: Of course! You think I’d lie? Me: Do you know who the victim is? Mike: No idea. Just saw what was in the news. Dead end. I walked to the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. “Who are you?” I whispered. Silence. Just my own tired face staring back. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the fear. But the image of the red umbrella haunted me. The next morning at work, my worst fear was confirmed. The victim was Bella. Mike rushed to my desk. “Sarah! You won’t believe it. The victim was Bella! It was brutal. They said her tongue was cut out so she couldn’t scream, vocal cords destroyed… limbs chopped off… heart cut out…” I gagged, stomach churning. Was she killed because of a grudge, or because of the umbrella? I prayed it had nothing to do with me. The police came to interview everyone. I didn’t know Bella well, so I had little to offer. I kept my mouth shut about the mirror and the umbrella. I didn’t want to get involved. 3 Work was relentless, forcing everyone to move on from Bella’s death quickly. I kept an eye on Julian. He acted normal, as if he had no memory of the red umbrella. Even when I hinted at it, he looked confused. Maybe I really was hallucinating from stress. A week later, it happened again. I was at the sink, ready to wash up, when my body locked up. My head tilted up. My reflection stared back. But this time, the reflection was different. The “me” in the mirror had bruises on her face. Her right eye was swollen shut, purple and angry. Was this a glimpse of my future? She mouthed the words slowly: Tomorrow night. Do not. Go home before 10 PM. She repeated it twice. This warning was even more confusing. We were in the middle of a huge project. Everyone was working until 11 PM every night. Going home before 10 PM was impossible anyway. But the bruises… Once I regained control, I examined the mirror frantically. I tapped it, tried the fingernail test. Nothing. Just a cheap, ordinary mirror mounted on the wall. Exhausted, I gave up at 2 AM. I had to be up at 7. The next day, I dragged myself to work. Everyone was too busy to notice my dark circles. Around 5 PM, Julian clapped his hands for attention. “Listen up, everyone! Upper management is very happy with our progress. So, tonight, you all get a break. Go home, rest up. Tomorrow we push hard to finish, and the day after, we celebrate!” Cheers erupted around the office. It felt like getting out of school early. But I sat frozen in my chair. Does this mean I will go home before 10 PM? 4 Everyone rushed out, eager to start their free evening. Julian stopped by my desk. “Sarah, why aren’t you leaving? No need to stay late tonight. Go home.” “Right, right. Leaving now,” I stammered. “Be safe.” He left first. I sighed and walked out of the building. Seeing everyone else so happy made me bitter. If not for the mirror’s warning, I’d be rushing home to order takeout and binge-watch shows. Now, that simple joy was a death sentence. I wandered the streets aimlessly. I had no one to hang out with. My contact list was full of colleagues and clients, not friends. Loneliness washed over me. Part of me wanted to rebel. What if I just went home? Would I really die? Maybe if I locked the doors and windows… But the image of my bruised face in the mirror stopped me. I ended up in a park near my apartment complex, eating a sandwich and watching elderly people dance. Bored, I pulled out my phone to watch a show using the public Wi-Fi. Suddenly, my phone vibrated and shut down. Dead battery. “Are you kidding me?” I groaned. I looked at my building. It was an old, run-down walk-up. Most units were dark. My floor was completely black. “If only I could go charge it… Wait, what time is it?” I asked an old man nearby. “Sir, what time is it?” “Huh? No thanks, I ate already.” “THE TIME!” “Oh, my son? He’s studying abroad.” “Never mind.” I went to a convenience store. The clock on the wall read 10:03 PM. Relief washed over me. I hurried toward my building. Little did I know, the moment I left, the store owner took the clock down, muttering, “Why is this thing running fast again?”

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In our past life, Julian and I were husband and wife. He never hid the fact that another woman held his heart, only occasionally offering me looks of pity. Everyone said I loved him desperately, enduring rumors and gossip to manage his household and secure his legacy. No one knew I was just doing it out of spite. On my deathbed, he sat beside me and sighed, “You’ve worked hard in this life, Autumn. If there is a next life, I will share a little love with you.” I died too quickly, the words “I don’t want it” stuck in my throat. When I opened my eyes again, I saw floating text scrolling before me: [The male lead is reborn. Seeing how dedicated the female lead was in her past life, he’ll still give her a position as a secondary wife.] [It’s a pity. The main couple loves each other so much, but they can’t be together properly because of the supporting female character.] [Whatever, let’s just pity the supporting female. She loves the male lead so much, she’d die without him.] Before I could recover from the shock of rebirth, I heard my parents’ angry shouts from the front hall. It was Julian. He had come… to make me his concubine. 1 “Heartless! My Autumn won’t marry at all before she becomes your concubine!” I heard my mother’s cursing from afar. “When your family was poor, you pestered our Autumn every day, saying you’d marry no one but her, eating and drinking at our house. Now that you’ve been recognized by your rich father, you want our Autumn to be your concubine? Keep dreaming!” My mother’s words were blunt. Usually, my father would have stopped her, but this time he just glared at Julian, looking ready to punch him. The neighbors all knew Julian and I were childhood sweethearts. His behavior was shameful, and many pointed fingers at him. Julian was clearly embarrassed. But he regained his composure the moment he saw me rushing over. His face returned to confident arrogance. “Uncle, Auntie, why deny this marriage so quickly? Why not ask Autumn? I’m sure as long as she can be with me, she’d be willing even as a concubine.” The floating text scrolled faster: [See how gentle the male lead is? If he wasn’t afraid the supporting female would kill herself if he abandoned her, he wouldn’t even be here.] [Exactly. The supporting female’s family can’t see the reality. Look at the male lead’s status, then look at theirs. He’s going to inherit a title. Liking a merchant’s daughter is already a huge blessing for her.] [Yeah, he could have just walked away. He only stayed because he was afraid she’d die for love.] Yes, in the past, my love for Julian was his biggest asset to trample on me. But that love died in my previous life. I stopped loving Julian a long time ago. But he didn’t know. He thought I still adored him. To him, I would die without him. That’s why he looked at me so arrogantly, speaking as if bestowing charity: “Autumn, although you’ll enter as a concubine, once my marriage with Sarah is settled, she will elevate you to secondary wife. Don’t worry, with Sarah’s character and generosity, she won’t let you suffer any grievances.” He claimed I wouldn’t suffer, yet he humiliated me in front of everyone. Seeing my silence, the text scrolled furiously: [No way, the male lead said all that and she’s still putting on airs? Is she waiting for him to beg?] [Does she really think this will get her the position of main wife? Naive and laughable.] 2 In my last life, Julian did marry me as his main wife. He was poor and alone as a child, surviving on the charity of the neighborhood. He ate the most at my house. My family had been merchants for generations, wealthy even by capital standards. My parents had no son, only me. My mother was soft-hearted. That winter, Julian stood barefoot at our door in ragged clothes, staring at the fresh pastries in my hand, swallowing hard. I gave him all my food that day. He ate so fast his stomach hurt, alerting my mother. Seeing the bag of bones that was Julian, she cried out in pity and brought him inside. That day, Julian left wearing my father’s old winter clothes, altered to fit him. He came often after that. At first, just to eat. As he grew older and learned shame, he said he came to see me. I knew it was an excuse. Julian was just hungry. He called me his best friend in the world, but his eyes were glued to the meat buns. Later, older and more shameful, he swore an oath to me. If he, Julian Thorne, ever made it big, he would never betray me. That oath bound him for half a lifetime. After being recognized as the lost son of Baron Thorne, he was quickly brought back to the fold. He was already twenty. Rejecting the women his father’s concubines tried to push on him, he married me with grand ceremony. Julian was spirited that day. In our bridal chamber, he patted his chest and boasted, “See, Autumn? A gentleman keeps his word. I said I wouldn’t forget you if I lived a good life, and I haven’t.” Julian didn’t love me then either, but he kept his promise and treated me well enough. If he hadn’t met Sarah White, we might have lived harmoniously forever. 3 But fate led him to Sarah, the woman he fell for at first sight, the one he wanted to protect for the rest of his life. Sarah was the illegitimate daughter of a government minister. She shouldn’t have had it so hard, but the Minister’s wife was notoriously cruel. She couldn’t stop her husband from bringing women home, but she could torture them in the backyard. Even so, Sarah’s mother, Concubine Snow, managed to gain favor with the Minister. Sarah wasn’t treated poorly, but after meeting Julian, she cried to him about her suffering. She claimed Julian was her only lifeline. Julian, immersed in the fantasy of saving his beloved, publicly defended Sarah multiple times, disregarding propriety. Soon, rumors about them filled the capital. They were illegitimate lovers, yet Sarah refused to be a concubine, claiming she wouldn’t follow in her mother’s footsteps. But Julian couldn’t divorce me. He wouldn’t break his promise to care for me, and I had been a faultless wife, serving his family and using my family’s wealth to pave his career path. Even his father, who initially despised my merchant background, acknowledged my virtue. I even offered to let Julian take Sarah as a concubine. But Sarah refused. Not only did she refuse, she tearfully accused me of hypocrisy in public. She claimed she and Julian were soulmates, their connection beyond worldly definitions, and that my suggestion insulted their love. Her shocking words moved Julian deeply. The world gossiped about Sarah, but Julian only cherished her more. In the end, Julian kept Sarah outside, setting up a home for her, neglecting his wife. They bore the insults but lived together for a lifetime. Only I remained, guarding the empty Baron’s estate, refusing to leave out of spite. I didn’t love Julian anymore, but I wouldn’t make it easy for them. To the world, it was proof I loved him desperately. So on my deathbed, Julian sat by me, repenting, saying he would give me a little love in the next life. Of course, only a little. Most would still go to Sarah. This time, Julian seemed determined not to let Sarah suffer any indignity. I looked at his confident, determined face and smiled faintly. Baron Thorne had many children. In the end, Julian, with no maternal family backing, inherited the title. Did he think that without my family’s wealth pouring into the Baron’s estate, he could have stood out among his brothers? Seeing my smile, Julian relaxed, his tone turning affectionate. “Autumn, I knew you were always the most sensible. You understand me.” The floating text cursed me: [What is the supporting female pretending for? She was holding back before, now she’s smiling like a dog.] [Look how eager she is walking towards the male lead, throwing herself at him in public. Shameless.] [Watch, she’s going to cry in his arms…] Slap! A crisp slap interrupted the scrolling text. Everything seemed to freeze. The only response was the bright red handprint on Julian’s face. He stared at me, unable to comprehend what had happened. “Get out!” My shout brought him back to reality. After being a high-and-mighty Baron for half a lifetime, Julian hadn’t been humiliated like this in years. His face turned colors, his eyes filled with rage. But the neighbors cheered. Here, his title meant nothing. Finally, he glared at me and threatened, “Autumn, I’ve done my best by you. Even if you beg me later, I won’t let you in the door.” I raised my hand again. Julian, muttering about shrews, fled with his servants. 4 After he left, my mother held my hand, her voice choking. “Autumn, you’ve suffered.” “But although you vented your anger today, the news will spread, and it’s bad for you. In this world, a man’s words can ruin a woman’s reputation. If Julian makes up lies to justify breaking the engagement, what will you do?” Looking at my mother’s gentle, loving face, remembering how she died with eyes open in my last life because of my situation, my heart ached. Why did I waste my life spiting Julian? I spent a lifetime punishing a man who didn’t love me. Never again. I leaned into my mother’s embrace, comforting her softly. I told her, no, the world wouldn’t blame me for this. The text was still scrolling: [The male lead is going to find our baby protagonist.] [In this life, they will meet early. The male lead will protect the protagonist, so she won’t suffer anymore.] Yes, in the last life, Sarah often cried to Julian after they got together. The day he came to propose to me was the day she was pushed into the water by her legitimate sister. They didn’t know each other then, but Julian, loving her, blamed himself for that regret. He said it was his fault for not appearing sooner to save her. In this life, he could finally fulfill his promise and be Sarah’s hero. I just wondered if Sarah, currently flirting with several noble sons, would acknowledge this illegitimate son of a Baron who had just been recognized and had no status.

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1 My wife is the chief medical examiner for the city’s Major Crimes Division. They call her the “Corpse Whisperer.” But when I was framed for a hit-and-run, she was the one who pointed the finger and swore I was the killer. She used a shoddy, hole-ridden autopsy report from some intern to throw me in prison. On the day of my sentencing, that same intern was flaunting his victory on social media: [Big thanks to my amazing mentor for trusting me! We finally put the bad guy away. Feeling like a true champion of justice today!] Blinded by rage, I declared my innocence right there in the courtroom. “I didn’t hit anyone! That autopsy report is flawed!” To my shock, my wife, Clara, stormed up to me, her voice dripping with ice. “You bastard! Still trying to lie your way out of this?” “A life for a life! That’s the law! If you ruin Tim’s reputation, I swear, I’ll haunt you even in death!” Seeing her twist the truth so shamelessly, I let out a bitter laugh. “Good. We’ll see who haunts whom.” “I’m not going down. But Carnegie Corp? It’s going bankrupt.” … With the evidence now in doubt, the court was forced to postpone the final verdict. I had one week to clear my name. But I never imagined that a case with such obvious flaws would have every legal expert in the city running for the hills. Everyone knew what happened to those who openly crossed Clara Carnegie. The sheer absurdity of it almost made me laugh. I had just pulled out my phone when several trending topics popped up on the screen: [Genius M.E. Intern Tim Kerr Cracks Rainy Night Hit-and-Run, Gets Fast-Tracked to Full Position!] [The Dynamic Duo: Clara and Tim, a Power Couple in Forensics!] My hand tightened around the phone, my knuckles turning white. How dare Clara promote Tim at a time like this? It was more than a slap in the face to me, her husband; it was a public declaration of my guilt. Then, she brazenly liked and retweeted the post. [Welcome to the team, Tim. A little gift to celebrate. Keep up the great work!] The picture was of a Patek Philippe watch with a price tag of over two hundred thousand dollars. The internet exploded. [Damn! A power move right there. A watch worth a couple hundred grand, just like that. I’m so jealous!] [I heard he’s cracked a ton of cases and he hasn’t even graduated. Is he the new prodigy of the forensics world?] [Young, talented… no wonder his mentor dotes on him] The comments were a flood of praise and admiration, hailing Tim as some kind of star. No one cared about my situation, and the truth of the case was completely ignored. The online chatter was deafening. I deleted the apps. Out of sight, out of mind. But it wasn’t long before the CEO of Carnegie Corp called. “Mr. Vance, you need to sign the equity transfer agreement, and soon. Once you’re behind bars, it’ll be too late.” I frowned. These vultures really believed every rumor they heard. “Dream on.” My tone was cold, an absolute refusal. He clearly wasn’t expecting such defiance and flew into a rage. “You little prick, you’ve got a hell of a nerve for a man about to be convicted!” “I don’t care if you like it or not, this is a standard risk-avoidance clause in your contract. If you don’t sign, I’m reporting this directly to Ms. Carnegie!” Did he really think he could threaten me with Clara? “You do that.” I didn’t mince words before hanging up. He called back a dozen times, persistent, until I finally blocked his number. It seemed my leniency with Clara had made her forget her place. To risk my life for some boy toy, and then try to snatch my company’s shares? What a joke. Since no one in the city dared to touch this case, I had to call in the big guns. She agreed on the spot, no persuasion needed. Just as I hung up, feeling a wave of relief, another call came through. It was Clara. “Liam! Why the hell did you block Mr. Wallace? Have you signed the equity papers?” “You can’t even save yourself, and you’re still clinging to that stock?” Her frustration crackled through the phone. I tapped my fingers on the desk and let out a cold chuckle. “Clara, you know better than anyone whether I hit that person.” “The verdict isn’t even in, and you’re already trying to grab my shares. It’s a bad look, even for you.” Because of her high-profile profession, Carnegie Corp had always been officially registered under my name. But in seven years of marriage, I had never taken a dime in salary, pouring my heart and soul into building her family’s company. I took Carnegie Corp from a small, unknown business to a publicly traded enterprise. The hundreds of millions in annual revenue all went straight into her account. But from this day forward, I was done being the fool. My words must have struck a nerve. Clara’s voice shot up. “What’s that supposed to mean? Since when do you have the right to question my professional judgment?” “Isn’t Tim’s report enough to convict you? If you don’t want to give up the shares, fine, but don’t make up such a pathetic excuse!” “And don’t you forget, the company is mine. You have no right to fight me for it!” So now she wanted to draw a line in the sand. “Clara, you truly are hopelessly naive,” I replied nonchalantly. “I built Carnegie Corp from the ground up. Seventy percent of the shares are in my name. What makes you think you stand a chance against me?” She was stunned into silence. After a long pause, she finally managed to stammer, “Honey, we’ve been married for so long. There’s no ‘yours’ or ‘mine.’” I just shook my head with a quiet scoff. Realizing her aggressive approach wasn’t working, her tone softened. “You’re just mad I didn’t cover for you with this case, aren’t you?” “But it was official business! You made such a huge mistake, I was terrified! And you didn’t even try to comfort me.” She knew my weaknesses. Her voice cracked as she tried to coax me. “Liam, I know you didn’t mean to hit anyone, but it happened. You should focus on getting a lighter sentence.” “I’ve already moved Tim to my team. Don’t worry, we’ll provide favorable evidence for you at the next hearing.” “Just sign the equity transfer agreement first, so the company isn’t dragged down with you.” I couldn’t stomach another word. Just as I was about to cut her off, a man’s voice drifted through the phone. “Clara, maybe I should just apologize to Liam. It’s all my fault. I hate that I’m making you two fight.” A cruel smile crept onto my lips. “Dr. Carnegie, you should probably go comfort your protégé. Don’t keep him waiting.” I hung up before she could respond, then blocked her number and let out a long, deep breath. I got in my car and drove, not stopping. My phone buzzed incessantly. One by one, partners sent contract termination notices. I knew Clara would publicize this. If she couldn’t have it, she’d make sure I couldn’t either. Angry messages flooded in. [Vance, terminate the contract now! You’re a goddamn criminal, who the hell wants to be associated with you!] [Give me my money back, you bastard! Don’t you dare drag the Hamiltons down with you when you’re rotting in jail!] [Even your wife can’t save you. Forget about a comeback. Just pray for a lenient sentence.] On top of that, a message came from the victim’s family. [You money-grubbing murderer! I’ll kill you with my own hands to avenge my brother!] I ignored them all. A bunch of clowns. After years of navigating the cutthroat business world, if I couldn’t handle a storm like this, I had no business being a CEO. I stopped the car by the ocean. The salty wind cleared my head. It was time for Clara and me to have a final reckoning. Just then, my assistant rushed over, his face pale with panic. “Mr. Vance, the Madam has teamed up with the other shareholders. They’ve… they’ve removed you as CEO.” My fist clenched. “She dares?” “Madam Carnegie… she’s already holding a press conference,” he stammered. A surge of hot fury rushed through me, veins popping on my temples. The audacity of that woman! I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. When I spoke, my voice was terrifyingly steady. “Freeze all our joint accounts. Draft the divorce papers.” “Send them to my email along with the equity transfer agreement.” My assistant looked confused. “Mr. Vance, Carnegie Corp is your life’s work. Are you really going to just hand it over?” “You could wait until you’re released! You could make a comeback!” I shot him a look so sharp it could cut glass, and he immediately lowered his head, silent. My phone screen lit up. A new post from Tim Kerr appeared. [Oh no, my mentor is spoiling me rotten! An honorary seat on the Carnegie Corp board for my birthday!] In the accompanying video, he was dressed in a tailored suit, beaming at his birthday party, the picture of success. It was obvious who had granted him such a privilege. I didn’t hesitate. I floored it and headed straight for the party. The venue was dazzling, with high-profile guests crowding the entrance. The roar of my engine shattered the elegant atmosphere as I slammed on the brakes, my car screeching to a halt sideways right in front of the main stage. The crowd screamed and scattered. Tim’s face went pale. He shot up from his seat. “Liam? Are you insane?!” “Wasn’t killing one person enough? Do you want to take us all down with you?” Seeing his arrogant expression, I just smirked. I got out of the car, calmly walked up to him, and bent down to pick up a fallen steak knife, offering it to him. “I came to celebrate your birthday. Why so jumpy?” He stared at me, a flash of pure hatred in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and pointed the sharp blade at his own throat. “Liam! Don’t you touch him!” Clara screamed, rushing over from behind me and shoving me away with all her might. Tim, who had been so smug moments before, collapsed into Clara’s arms, breathing shallowly. “Clara… I almost… I almost never saw you again.” Clara gently touched the red mark on his neck, her eyes blazing with a fire that could burn me to ash. “Liam! What is wrong with you?” “Assaulting someone while out on bail? Are you in a hurry to die?” I leisurely pulled out a silk pocket square and wiped my hands. Before I could speak, Tim interrupted, his voice choked with fake tears. “Clara, it’s okay. I’m sure Mr. Vance didn’t mean it.” “Please don’t call the police. I don’t want to be the reason he gets into more trouble.” He clutched his neck, his eyes filled with hurt. I chuckled. “Stop the theatrics. The scratch is on your left. Why are you holding your right?” “You’d better get to a hospital before it heals on its own.” My mocking gaze pinned him. Tim’s eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. Clara, however, couldn’t stand it. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Liam, are you sick in the head?” “You’re the one who ran someone over, and you have the audacity to harass Tim? When you do something wrong, you face the consequences!” “Stop acting like a rabid dog, snapping at everyone. It’s disgusting.” I couldn’t believe her hypocrisy. I watched their little drama play out, my patience finally gone. Slap. Two documents hit the floor at Clara’s feet, papers scattering everywhere. “I don’t give a damn about the company.” “As for you… I have no use for something so tainted.” Clara bent down to pick up the papers. When she saw the words “Divorce Agreement” and “Equity Transfer,” her face went deathly pale. “But that’s not what you should be worried about right now,” I added slowly. “That fabricated autopsy report from Tim? I’ve already sent it to the state’s highest court.” “You two should start thinking about how you’re going to explain that to a judge.” As I straightened up, I saw with satisfaction that Tim’s face was ashen. “I’ll see you both in court.” With that, I turned, got back in my car, and drove away. The moment I was gone, Tim dropped the act. He grabbed Clara’s sleeve, his voice shaking. “Clara, what do we do now?” Her face was a dark mask of fury. She ripped the divorce papers to shreds. “What are you afraid of? As long as I’m here, he’ll never overturn this case!” After leaving, I went straight to the airport to pick someone up. Once we had discussed the case, I started the process of cutting ties with Carnegie Corp. A Fortune 500 company wasn’t worth me fighting tooth and nail for. For years, Carnegie Corp had been propped up by my family’s resources. It was time to collect that debt, with interest. But Clara was completely oblivious. She was too busy trying to get Tim off the hook. She used her authority to hold the victim’s body, blocking any further examination, and leaked false information to the press. To keep me from interfering, she paid the victim’s family three million dollars to stage a protest. They set up wreaths outside my villa and held a round-the-clock vigil, wailing for the cameras. The internet erupted with a firestorm of hate. I was branded a murderer, and the public was calling for my head. “A life for a life! Do rich people get to walk free? Is the law only for the poor?” “I hope that murderer and his entire family rot in hell!” “You can just tell he’s a monster by looking at him. Scum like that should be drawn and quartered!” Evelyn Reed pushed a tablet toward me, her expression unreadable as she recited the comments. She wasn’t just the top forensic pathologist I had flown in to help; she was also Clara’s fiercest rival. Their animosity went all the way back to university. Evelyn had always been one step ahead, until Clara started dating me. For reasons I never understood, Evelyn then left to pursue further studies abroad. I shrugged, feigning indifference. She clicked her tongue at my attitude and got straight to her analysis. “The deceased suffered multiple fractures and clear signs of secondary trauma. This wasn’t caused by a single impact.” “Furthermore, your car’s dashcam shows you passed the scene at 10:48 PM, but the estimated time of death is around 9:00 PM.” “Which means…” she adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and looked up at me, “he was already dead before your car ever got there.” A chill slithered up my spine. As a top medical examiner, there was no way Clara didn’t know this. Yet she signed off on Tim’s report, a report riddled with amateur mistakes. Realizing the gravity of the situation, Evelyn sighed deeply. “Clara must be losing her mind. How could she make such a rookie mistake? Isn’t she afraid of being reported?” “Who is this Tim Kerr that she’d be willing to risk everything for him?” I stood frozen, speechless. With the truth laid bare before me, I couldn’t understand it either. How important was Tim to her? I had been by her side for ten years. I watched her grow from a timid girl who trembled at the thought of dissecting a rabbit into the nation’s most renowned forensic pathologist. I watched her climb to the pinnacle of her career, and somewhere along the way, she pushed me further and further away. Now, she no longer needed me. She was busy protecting someone else with everything she had. Seeing my silence, Evelyn pressed on. “Have you made up your mind?” I looked at her, startled, then understood. She was worried I might go soft on Clara. “Of course.” She shot me a sharp look, her tone severe. “Even if you have lingering feelings, I won’t show any mercy.” “Aiding and abetting, perjury… any one of those charges is enough to put her away for a long time.” I nodded, a cold, meaningful smile playing on my lips. “Don’t worry. The show is just getting started.” At that same moment, the stock market screens glowed red. Carnegie Corp’s stock was in a free fall. I was already looking forward to seeing the look on Clara’s face when she heard her company was bankrupt. Right before the trial was set to begin, I dropped another bombshell, a piece of news so explosive it would stun everyone.

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On the day I was sentenced to death, my parents were busy organizing a press conference to announce their adopted son, Liam, as the new heir to the company. My sister, Emily, was engaged to Liam. They had truly become a family. And I, who exposed Liam’s wolfish ambition, was the ungrateful wretch they had disowned and righteously destroyed. Reborn after death. I no longer hope for their love. I live only for myself. 1 I was reborn. Reborn to the day Liam was just adopted into my family. Unexpectedly, fate was willing to give me a second chance. Liam was the son of my father’s childhood friend, and also a well-known child prodigy in our city. Unfortunately, his parents died in a car accident, and when they were found, Liam had already been abducted from the car. My father spent a lot of manpower and resources to track down Liam. Heartbroken by his tragic experience at such a young age, he decided to bring him back and treat him like his own son. My mother burst into tears as soon as she saw Liam, hugging him and crying, “Poor child, you’ve suffered so much.” My sister was also wiping away tears nearby. I was the only one looking at Liam coldly, because I knew the inhuman malice hidden under his obedient appearance. My mother asked Liam to sit down quickly, but he blushed and whispered, “I’m dirty, I’m afraid of dirtying Uncle and Auntie’s sofa.” This heartbreakingly sensible appearance once again melted the hearts of my overly compassionate family. Even my father, who usually claimed men don’t cry easily, had tears in his eyes. He patted Liam’s head and said, “Silly child, this is your home from now on. You should call us Mom and Dad…” Liam nodded shyly. Suddenly seeing my sister’s unfinished homework spread on the table, he glanced at it and solved the difficult Math Olympiad problem my sister had been stuck on all night. My sister, Emily, instantly became Liam’s fan, praising him endlessly as a true genius. My parents also exchanged smiles, feeling that Liam’s addition would definitely make our family better. Throughout the process, no one asked for my opinion. It seemed that with the arrival of this adopted son, I, the biological son, was no longer of any concern. 2 I just waited quietly, knowing exactly what kind of person Liam was. Sure enough, just like in my previous life, Liam immediately tried to put me in my place. He suddenly looked at me with teary eyes and asked, “Brother Dylan, why are you glaring at me like that?” He lowered his head, acting very disappointed: “I’m sorry, I never thought of stealing someone else’s parents. If you don’t like me, I’d better leave.” Although he said this, he didn’t move an inch from the sofa. My father looked at me sternly: “Dylan, you’ll be Liam’s brother from now on. Get along well with him, understand?” Emily curled her lips disdainfully: “Dylan must be jealous that Liam is smarter than him and feels unconvinced. Liam is different from his petty cleverness; he’s a famous prodigy.” Liam’s face instantly turned pale, hiding behind my mother and shivering: “I never thought of stealing Brother’s thunder, it’s all my fault.” My mother hurriedly hugged Liam to comfort him, looking at me with dissatisfaction: “Dylan, Mom has always taught you to be humble. How can you be so jealous?” My father also shouted impatiently: “Apologize to Liam quickly!” Liam lifted his head from my mother’s arms, deliberately revealing a provocative expression only I could see. I bit my lower lip tight, images from my past life flashing through my mind. My parents and sister were just as aggressive back then, clamoring that Liam was their real family, ruthlessly cutting ties with me. They even fueled the fire when Liam framed me and sent me to prison, watching helplessly as I was sent to the execution ground. I should have understood long ago that from the moment Liam stepped into my house, my family was no longer my family. They were like bewitched by Liam, always standing unconditionally on his side, unmoved even as the family assets were embezzled by him. I genuinely wanted to wake them up, but was labeled as jealous, incompetent, and petty, becoming the most ridiculed existence in the family. The family was willing to walk into the hell paved by Liam, but I was different. In this life, I want to live for myself. 3 Liam’s room wasn’t ready yet, so my parents asked him to share a room with me first. The thought of breathing the same air as this person made me sick to my stomach. I turned to pack my things, planning to make do in the living room for the night. Liam followed me in, sweeping all my textbooks and stationery that were neatly stacked on the desk onto the floor, occupying my desk with his own schoolbag. Unlike my previous life, my indifference made Liam tear off his mask directly: “Why should a mortal like you have such a warm family, while a genius like me has to suffer so much misfortune! Just wait, this home will belong to me in the future!” I packed my things without even looking at Liam: “I don’t care much about this family. If you want it, I’ll give it to you. You only deserve to pick up what I’ve discarded.” Liam’s chest heaved with anger at my words, but he quickly calmed down, a trace of gloom flashing across his face: “You can only be smug for now.” As soon as he finished speaking, Liam tore a stack of certificates he brought with him into pieces, then ran out of the room crying with the fragments: “Boohoo, Brother Dylan, don’t tear my certificates! This is my last memory from my old school! I’m sorry, someone like me doesn’t deserve to share a room with you…” My parents and sister heard the noise and ran over, seeing Liam sitting in a pile of certificate fragments, crying snot and tears, his small body curled up in a ball, looking so pitiful. Emily picked up a fragment casually and shouted in surprise: “First Prize in the National Primary School Math Olympiad! With this award, getting into a key middle school is a breeze, yet Dylan tore it up!” Liam wiped his tears aggrievedly, still pretending to be generous: “It must be that I offended Brother somewhere, making him unhappy. It’s all my fault.” My mother hurriedly wiped his face clean with wet wipes, her eyes overflowing with heartache: “How could it be your fault? We spoiled Dylan too much.” My father was already red in the face with anger. He didn’t understand why other people’s sons were so sensible, while his own son wouldn’t even accept a brother and bullied him everywhere. 4 I walked out of the room, my eyes firm as I said word by word: “Liam tore the certificates himself. It has nothing to do with me.” My sister, Emily, immediately screamed, protecting Liam and pointing at me with fiery eyes, cursing: “Who tears their own certificates for no reason! Dylan, you don’t even draft your lies now. Why didn’t we realize you were this kind of person before?!” My father shouted angrily at me: “Dylan! You’ve disappointed Dad too much. How could I raise a son like you! Can’t you learn from Liam, be sensible, and give your family some peace of mind?” I looked back at the family coldly. Liam was truly capable. He bewitched everyone in just one night. He shed a few tears, and my parents acted like the sky was falling. But what about me? Who noticed my heart bleeding? In my past life, I was indeed a bit jealous of Liam because he excelled far beyond me academically. We had some friction at first, but I soon accepted this brother. But Liam exploited my trust, smearing and slandering me in front of my parents. By the time I realized it, the rift between me and my parents was irreversible. But in this life, I have memories of my past life and the thinking ability of an adult. How could Liam, just a primary school student, be my opponent? To prevent Liam from being “bullied” by me again, my parents decided to sleep with him that night. They coaxed Liam away, no one looking back at me, as if I were a sinner destroying the warm family atmosphere. I silently closed the door, shutting out their harmonious scene. I had long vowed not to be sad over this family’s boundless bias anymore.

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The day after my divorce and asset division, I got into a car accident and lost my memory. Later, Julian found me and said if I stopped acting crazy every day, remarrying was an option. I froze, ice cream spoon in my mouth, and after a long pause, I said: “I don’t think so! I… I… I’m actually fine with just taking the money.” 1 I woke up to see my best friend, Chloe, looking worried. She told me not to be sad. She said my body is my own, and even after a divorce, I have to live well. She said the kids wouldn’t suffer with Julian, and there was no need for me to fight a lawsuit I couldn’t win. I was stunned. After a long while, I couldn’t help but ask: “Who is Julian?” Chloe froze, looking blank. It took her a while to react and call the doctor. The doctor said I had amnesia from the accident. Chloe hurriedly asked how old I thought I was. I thought for a moment: “Eighteen! Didn’t I just finish my final exams yesterday?” Chloe burst out laughing, squatting on the floor clutching her stomach, pounding the bed with her fist. “Mia, you really… this amnesia is fantastic. Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is great! No Julian, no kids… just the two of us…” I was even more confused. 2 Chloe took me home. Once she was sure my memory was unlikely to return, she briefed me on the situation. Me, Mia Clark. I fell in love in my freshman year with a poor boy named Julian Thorne. I dated Julian for ten years, from eighteen to twenty-eight. I supported his startup, ate cheap food with him, bore his children, and served his parents. Then this year, he fought a lawsuit to divorce me. “??? What?” I was shocked. What kind of melodramatic tragedy is this? After a long pause, I asked with a trembling voice: “So, you mean I served someone like a maid for ten years, and at twenty-eight, I was kicked out?” Chloe nodded: “Yes. You also have two children, a son who is six and a daughter who is four. But because you were a housewife with no earning capacity, and both kids chose their father, custody was awarded to Julian.” “…What??? My children that I raised so hard are gone…” Although I hadn’t experienced these memories, it sounded terrifying. I was almost scared to tears. Then Chloe laughed and patted my shoulder: “Don’t be too sad, at least you have money.” Tears swirling in my eyes, I asked tentatively: “How much?” Chloe sat up straight: “Mia, listen carefully. You got 20% of Julian’s assets, 10% shares in three listed companies, and two townhouses in Manhattan. It’s worth about three hundred million dollars.” “……” Silence. Contemplation. Then I asked tentatively: “Chloe, you wouldn’t lie to me, right?” “If I’m lying, I’m a dog.” That day, I stared dazedly at the sky outside the window. I forgot ten years of memories. I didn’t know how I spent those ten years. But Chloe said I was rich. And at eighteen, I loved money the most. So I figured this was pretty good. 3 Chloe took time off work to help me with various transfers over the next few days. I didn’t see the Julian Chloe talked about. He delegated lawyers for the divorce property division. After a busy month, Chloe helped me list all the properties under my name for rent. She calculated for me; the monthly rent would be around two hundred thousand dollars. That day, looking at the endless zeros in my bank account, I looked up at the mirror to see my twenty-eight-year-old self with exquisite makeup and hair. I scratched my head. Not bad. 4 I had nothing to do at home, but Chloe had to work. I spent every day at Chloe’s place playing video games. When Chloe ordered takeout for lunch, she ordered for me too. Chloe finished work very late. She came back half-dead at night, collapsing on the sofa. I dropped the game controller and massaged her shoulders. Maybe due to muscle memory, I was very good at it. Chloe rested enough and started lamenting: “Julian is a beast. You worked for him for free right after graduation. His mother was in poor health, and you had to massage her back after work.” “……” Chloe continued, pulling me and flicking my forehead: “Mia, you’re just too soft. When I wasn’t around, you let them bully you. Those people just bullied you because you were an orphan.” I rubbed my head, feeling aggrieved: “I don’t remember any of what you said! I only remember you.” Chloe stopped, then laughed: “Right! Don’t remember. It’s better not to remember. Just remember me. I won’t bully you.” I believed Chloe because we grew up together. We grew up in an orphanage. When we were very young, I followed Chloe around. She grabbed snacks for me and helped me wash clothes. Later, Chloe tutored me. She was a year older. When I was a senior in high school, she was a freshman in college, calling me every day to encourage me. She wanted me to go to the same university as her, but Chloe scored too high. I studied to death but couldn’t get into an Ivy League. The day the results came out, I hugged Chloe and cried. Chloe flicked my forehead: “Why cry? You scored great. What’s there to cry about?” She patted my head: “It’s already very good.” Later, I went to New York crying. 5 Chloe regretted it whenever she mentioned it. She said she shouldn’t have let me go to New York: “If you didn’t go to New York, you wouldn’t have met Julian. If you didn’t meet Julian…” I interrupted: “Then I wouldn’t have these three hundred million.” Chloe put her hands on her hips: “Is money more important or your ten years?” I tried to guess the correct answer: “Money?” Chloe looked at me like iron that failed to become steel: “You are important. If you’re unhappy, no amount of money is useful. Luckily you lost your memory. Otherwise, if you did something foolish, what use is money?” “Hmm… buy me a good cemetery plot…” Chloe laughed angrily: “Get lost!” “……” Chloe was always amazing, and she still is. She’s a general manager at a multinational company, earning about sixty thousand a month. But she was busy, sometimes traveling for business, and worried about leaving me alone. So she took me with her. Later, she figured since she was taking me everywhere anyway, why spend her own money? She hired me into her company as her assistant. I knew this! I’ve read dozens of “CEO falls in love with the little assistant” novels in the past few months. On the first day, I wore a pencil skirt and went to work full of confidence. I made her coffee, organized materials, running back and forth. I looked very hardworking. Later, she laughed and told me to stop running, giving me a spreadsheet: “Let Anna guide you. Do this. Learn slowly, no rush.” “Okay, okay.” And so, I officially started working. 6 I followed Chloe to work and back every day. I didn’t have much to do and got off early. Chloe couldn’t; she had a lot of work. I always waited for her in the lounge. Later, watching me take online courses on my phone, Chloe suddenly remembered and asked seriously: “Mia, do you want to study?” “…I do.” I lost my memory and didn’t know much about work, starting from zero. It was disappointing when I couldn’t do things well. Chloe was my goal when we were young, and she still is. I wanted to handle everything with ease like Chloe. So cool. Later, Chloe signed me up for a course. Every day after work, I drove to class. A systematic project management course, mixed with various office software applications. I filled two notebooks before realizing, oh, so that’s how it is. After finishing the course, Chloe sent me to study accounting. I studied for a year and was enlightened. So that’s how it works. Work started to become handy.

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On the subway, a woman’s shriek accused me of being a pervert. Her shattered phone lay at my feet. Every passenger turned on me, their voices a torrent of curses. They said my white cane was a prop, my navigation glasses a hidden camera. I calmly removed one earbud. “You’re saying I was filming you?” “That’s right!” Her voice trembled, but her conviction was absolute. I smiled. “How can a blind man film anyone?” 1 The evening rush hour turns the subway into a crowded cage. I stood in the corner of the car, leaning on my white cane. My fingertips traced the textured grip on the handle—one of the few ways I could feel the world. I can’t see. Darkness has been my companion since birth. But I’m not as clumsy as you might imagine. A pair of custom navigation glasses rests on my nose. They use sonic pulses to map my surroundings, painting a wireframe of the world in my mind and calling out the distance to obstacles. Combined with the echolocation I’ve practiced since childhood and the self-defense my instructor taught me, I can navigate familiar spaces as well as any sighted person. Right now, I was just trying to get home. Soft music played through my headphones, a futile attempt to block out the chaos. I’d just won two back-to-back cases for a client and I was exhausted. All I wanted was a hot cup of tea in my quiet apartment. “Watch where you’re going!” A sharp, entitled voice cut through the noise from somewhere in front of me. I frowned, pulling out one earbud. My hearing is extremely sensitive; I can pick up almost any sound within thirty feet. The rustle of a woman’s skirt, a man’s suppressed cough, and… the soft click of a phone’s camera focusing. Wait. That sound was close. Almost directly in front of me. I tilted my head instinctively. My glasses immediately alerted me: “Adult female, zero-point-five meters ahead. Holding rectangular object, pointed in your direction.” A rectangular object? Almost certainly a phone. What was she doing, pointing her phone at me? A flicker of confusion passed through me, but I dismissed it. It was a crowded train; people took photos and videos all the time. I put my earbud back in, ready to tune it all out. But then, the phone clattered to the floor. It was followed by a piercing shriek that sliced through the car. “Ah! What are you doing?! Are you filming me?!” I froze. The voice belonged to the same woman who had been complaining about the crowd. Was she talking to me? “No,” I said automatically, my voice even. “I didn’t touch you, and I wasn’t filming you.” “Don’t you dare lie!” her voice shot up, thick with a mix of anger and violation. “I felt you pointing your phone right at me! If I hadn’t been quick enough to smack it out of your hand, you would have invaded my privacy, you creep!” The car fell silent. The hum of conversation, the shuffle of feet, the automated station announcements—it all stopped, frozen by her accusation. Dozens of eyes turned to me. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel their stares—a cocktail of disgust, suspicion, and morbid curiosity, like a thousand tiny needles piercing my skin. “It wasn’t me,” I repeated, my voice still steady, though a knot of anxiety was tightening in my stomach. “I wasn’t holding a phone. Your phone fell, but it had nothing to do with me.” “Nothing to do with you?” She let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Then why were you staring in my direction? And what are those things on your face? They look like some kind of spy camera!” Her words were a spark in a tinderbox. The crowd ignited. “Yeah, those glasses look weird. Probably one of those spy cams!” “These creeps are getting better at hiding. He looks normal, but he’s a total pervert.” “It’s so hard for girls to be safe out there. She must be terrified.” “Someone grab him before he runs!” The accusations washed over me like a tidal wave, drowning out my defense. I tightened my grip on my cane, my knuckles turning white. I knew this was trouble. 2 “Don’t listen to his lies!” the woman shouted, emboldened by the crowd’s support. “I saw it clearly. He was staring right at me with those weird glasses, holding his phone. He was definitely filming me!” She bent down, picked up her phone, and held it up for everyone to see. “Look! My screen is shattered! This is the proof! He was filming me, and when I caught him, I knocked it out of his hand!” Passengers crowded around to look. A spiderweb of cracks covered the screen. “The evidence is right there!” “Looks like he really did it. Why else would she be so upset?” “Someone needs to teach this guy a lesson!” A few hot-headed men started cracking their knuckles, their eyes fixed on me. I could feel their aggression, could hear their footsteps closing in. “Don’t move,” I said, my voice low. My body tensed, ready to defend myself. The martial arts my instructor taught me were for self-preservation, not for starting fights. But it looked like I didn’t have a choice. “What? You gonna fight back?” a burly man snarled. “You film a girl and now you’re getting aggressive? You’re going to pay for this.” He reached out to grab my arm. I tracked the sound of his hand cutting through the air, instinctively stepping back while my own hand shot out, locking onto his wrist with precise pressure. “Agh!” he cried out, his face twisting in pain. “Let go of me! You’re hurting me!” I’m not particularly strong, but I had targeted a pressure point, inflicting maximum pain with minimal force. “I’ll say it one more time. I was not filming anyone,” I said, releasing him, my voice cold as ice. “Stay away from me.” The man clutched his wrist, his eyes burning with hatred. “This creep isn’t just a pervert, he’s violent! Everyone, help me take him down!” His words enraged the crowd, and they surged forward. “He’s attacking people now? Unbelievable!” “Let’s get him! Hold him down!” “Don’t let him hurt that poor girl!” I was backed into a corner, the cold wall of the train at my back. I listened to the approaching footsteps and the chorus of angry shouts, a chill spreading through me. I couldn’t see their faces, but I could imagine their snarling expressions. They would rather believe the word of a complete stranger than listen to a single word of my defense. All because she looked fragile and innocent, while I wore “suspicious” glasses and knew how to defend myself. “Everyone, calm down!” I shouted, my voice rising above the din. “Nothing has been proven yet! Don’t resort to violence! My glasses aren’t a recording device, they’re for navigation! I’m—” “Don’t listen to his nonsense!” the woman cut me off instantly. “Navigation glasses? Yeah, right! Technology is so advanced these days, anyone could disguise a spy cam as glasses! Do you really think we’d fall for that?” She stepped right in front of me, looking down at where she presumed my eyes were. “I’ll tell you what. Either you admit you filmed me and pay for my emotional distress and a new phone, or I’m calling the cops and letting them deal with you!” “The police?” A thought sparked in my mind. That was a good idea. The police would have to be rational. They would investigate properly. “Fine. Call them,” I said calmly. “I trust they’ll clear my name.” The woman was taken aback by my quick agreement. She hesitated for a second, then sneered. “Fine by me! Let’s see how you talk your way out of this with them!” She immediately took out her phone and dialed, her voice urgent and panicked. “Officer, please hurry! There’s a pervert on the subway filming me, and he just assaulted someone! You have to come arrest him!” After hanging up, she shot me a triumphant look. “You just wait. The cops are on their way. Let’s see how you deny it then!” The crowd quieted down, waiting for the authorities to arrive. But their glares were still full of contempt and disgust, as if my guilt was already a foregone conclusion. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Darkness was my normal. But in that moment, I realized something far more terrifying than darkness was the cold, suffocating prejudice of the human heart. My glasses continued to feed me information: “Male, one meter to your left, agitated. Female, zero-point-eight meters to your right, recording with phone. Female, zero-point-six meters ahead, expression of anger…” The words were like thorns, pricking at me. I could hear their whispers, their curses. “What a scumbag.” “I hope he goes to jail.” “People like him deserve to be torn apart.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The pain was an anchor, keeping me grounded. I told myself not to react, not to let their anger infect me. The truth would come out. But for now, all I could do was wait. Wait for the police, and wait for a chance to prove my innocence. Somehow, I knew that chance wouldn’t come easily. 3 The train glided to a stop. The moment the doors hissed open, two transit security officers boarded the car. “Who called this in? What’s going on?” one of them asked, his voice loud and authoritative. “I did!” the woman immediately rushed toward them, her face crumpling into a mask of distress. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d suffered a great injustice. “Officers, it was him! He was filming me on the train, and when I caught him, he attacked someone! Please, you have to arrest him!” She pointed at me, her voice catching in a sob. She was the perfect picture of a damsel in distress. The two officers’ gazes snapped to me, sharp with suspicion. “Sir, you need to come with us,” one of them said, his tone severe. “I didn’t film anyone, and I didn’t attack anyone,” I explained calmly. “She’s lying. That man tried to grab me first, and I was only defending myself.” “Defending yourself?” the woman shot back. “You’re the one who’s lying! You were furious that I caught you, so you lashed out! Everyone here can be a witness!” She turned to the other passengers. “Isn’t that right, everyone?!” “Yes! We all saw it!” “He was the one filming her, and then he got violent!” “Officers, just take him away! He’s a danger to everyone here!” The passengers chimed in, their voices firm, as if they had personally witnessed the entire fabricated event. The officers exchanged a look. It was clear whose side they were on. “Sir, regardless of what happened, you need to come with us to the station office to cooperate with the investigation,” the other officer said, reaching for my arm. “Don’t touch me,” I said, sidestepping his grasp. My voice was cold. “I’ll walk on my own. But I’m telling you again, I’ve been framed.” “Whoa, listen to this guy!” the man whose wrist I’d grabbed earlier sneered. “Officers, look at his attitude! He’s obviously guilty!” “Yeah, you need to be tough with guys like this!” “Don’t let him get away!” As the passengers egged them on, the officers’ expressions hardened. “Sir, I’m asking you to cooperate. Don’t make us use force,” one of them warned. I could feel their hostility, could sense the smug satisfaction from the surrounding crowd. I took a deep breath, pushing down the anger simmering inside me. Resisting now would do no good. It would only reinforce their image of me as an “arrogant, violent pervert.” “Fine. I’ll go with you,” I said. I picked up my white cane and, guided by the memory of my glasses’ last input, began walking toward the door. The cane tapped rhythmically against the floor. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the suddenly quiet car. “What’s that he’s holding?” “Is that… a white cane?” “A cane? Is he blind?” “No way. How could a blind guy move like that? Or film someone?” The sight of my cane sparked a new wave of murmurs, this time laced with confusion. The woman’s face paled for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered, letting out a cold laugh. “Blind? Please! He’s faking it! These perverts will do anything to get out of trouble!” Her explanation was immediately accepted by most of the passengers. “Yeah, he must be faking!” “How could a blind person take a secret video? He’s putting on an act!” “That’s disgusting. Pretending to be blind to get away with it.” I ignored them. Pretending to be blind? They had no idea. My world was nothing but black. These glasses, this cane—they were essential parts of my life. And now, they had become the “evidence” of my deception.

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When my grandfather died, he left behind two things: a multi-billion dollar inheritance, and three simple matchsticks. “You and your sister may each choose one,” the lawyer said, his voice echoing in the sterile office. “Mindy, as the eldest, you choose first.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I chose the billions. My adopted sister, Nicole, was left with the three matches. I never imagined those matches held the power of prophecy. That by striking one and making a wish, it would come true. Nicole, simmering with resentment over our parents’ perceived favoritism, used her first wish to curse them. Just as she wished, it happened. My father had a sudden, fatal heart attack. My mother, racing to the hospital, was killed instantly when a semi-truck ran a red light. I grabbed a kitchen knife and went straight for her. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you that when you turned eighteen, I’d give you half of Grandpa’s inheritance!” I screamed, my voice raw with grief. “Mom and Dad took you in! They gave you everything I had! How could you do this?!” Nicole’s face was a mask of pure greed. “If they were going to adopt me, they should have gotten rid of you! I should have been the one to get everything! I don’t want your charity. With all of you dead, the money is all mine!” With a cold smirk, she struck the second match. “I wish for my sister to be sold off to a remote village, forced to be a breeding machine until she dies in childbirth!” Panic seized me. I liquidated every asset I had and hired a thousand bodyguards, turning my home into a fortress. But one night, every single guard fell into an inexplicable, simultaneous stupor. I was taken, just as she’d wished. I was dragged to a remote village, where I was tortured and broken, my life reduced to a cycle of forced pregnancy and birth, treated worse than an animal. I don’t know how much time passed before I took my last breath in a storm of agony and humiliation. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the inheritance. … A murmur went through the room as my grandfather’s lawyer, following the will’s instructions, shakily placed three matchsticks on the table next to the thick portfolio of assets. “Has the old man lost his mind? Are those supposed to be a family heirloom?” “Maybe it’s his way of insulting the adopted one? That’s just cruel.” The lawyer cleared his throat, his voice thin and frail, just like Grandpa’s had been. “The multi-billion dollar inheritance and these three matches. You and your sister may each choose one. Mindy, you are the eldest. You choose first.” A jolt went through me. I was back. I was really back. My eyes darted to my parents, standing beside me. They were whole, they were alive, and they were smiling at me, giving me a nod of encouragement. My vision blurred with tears. Last time, I chose the billions. And Nicole used those three matches to destroy my family and send me to a living hell. The phantom pains of my death still lingered. This time, I would not make the same mistake. “I’ll take the matches,” I said, my voice clear and firm. The room fell silent. “Is Mindy insane? They’re just matchsticks, not solid gold.” “We’re talking about billions of dollars! And she’s just going to hand it over to an adopted kid? If she wants to play the saint, she picked a hell of a time to do it!” “This is painful to watch! If she doesn’t want it, I’ll take it!” My parents rushed to my side, tugging at my sleeve. “Mindy, honey, did you misspeak?” my mother whispered urgently. “Dad’s start-up just went public, and your mother’s health isn’t the best. We could really use the capital right now…” “Sweetheart, I know you have a good heart, and you’re always thinking of your sister. But you could have taken the inheritance and given her half later! You didn’t have to do this…” They pleaded with me, but my resolve was iron. “I want the three matches,” I repeated. “Nicole lost her parents when she was young. Her life has been harder than mine. The inheritance… I don’t want a single penny. It all goes to her.” Nicole looked like she was about to jump for joy. As she eagerly signed the inheritance documents, she shot me a saccharine, fake thank you. “Thank you, sister, for being so generous. Don’t worry, when you’re begging on the streets, I’ll be sure to buy you a bread roll!” My parents were so furious with me they were speechless. When Grandpa was bedridden, I had taken care of him tirelessly for three years. Nicole, who complained about the “old people smell,” only ever spoke to him when she wanted a cash gift for the holidays. That’s why, in both lifetimes, Grandpa gave me the first choice. I ignored the whispers and jeers from the others. They didn’t know the secret these matches held. They were priceless. That night, I heard my parents tossing and turning in their bedroom. “What on earth was that child thinking?” “We raised her for over twenty years, and she turns out to be a complete fool!” “The creditors are coming tomorrow. If we can’t pay them back, we’re going to lose the house!” My grandfather had been a firm believer in self-reliance, a rule he’d instilled in all his children. My father’s new company wasn’t profitable yet, and he’d taken on high-interest loans to keep it afloat. He had been counting on my inheritance to see them through. Nicole, meanwhile, was already out on the town, flaunting her newfound wealth. Getting a dime out of her to help our parents would be impossible. Hearing their worried whispers, my own heart ached. I slipped out of bed, went to my room, and silently struck the first match. “I wish,” I whispered into the tiny flame, “for my parents to become fabulously wealthy overnight.” Satisfied, I crawled back into bed and fell into a peaceful sleep. The next morning, I was jolted awake by my mother’s bloodcurdling scream. “It’s over! Everything is over!” “The office building caught fire! Everything’s been burned to the ground!” “The fire spread to the neighboring shops! We’re liable for tens of millions in damages!” My father was slumped on the floor, his head in his hands, his body wracked with tremors. I stood frozen, clutching the blackened stump of the matchstick, a deathly chill spreading through me. How could this happen? My mother, frantic and overwhelmed, saw me standing there in a daze, and all her pent-up frustration exploded. “This is all your fault! It’s because you chose those stupid matches!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “Matchsticks… fire… oh god, it was a sign… it was all fated!” “If you had just chosen the billions, none of this would have happened!” She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. My father just held her, his eyes closed in exhaustion, saying nothing. My head spun. How? I wished for them to be rich. Why did they go bankrupt instead? Could it be… because I was reborn? Had my interference changed the rules? Did the wishes now work in reverse? The thought sent me scrambling back to my room for the second match. But before I could even strike it, the front door was kicked open with a deafening crash. “Well, well. Look at you all, relaxing at home while we’ve been sweating our asses off trying to collect,” a brutish man sneered, flanked by a group of thugs. “This is your final warning. If you don’t have the money by tomorrow, we’re chopping off your hands.” He leered at me. “And I hear you’ve got a pretty daughter. Maybe she can help the boys… unwind.” They proceeded to smash everything in sight with their clubs, leaving our home in ruins. On top of the loans, we now owed millions in damages. Desperate, my parents had no choice but to call Nicole. She ignored the first nine calls. On the tenth, she finally picked up. “Honey, your mom and I are in trouble,” my father began, his voice strained. “Grandpa left you billions… we don’t need much, just thirty million. Please, can you help us?” “If we can’t pay, the loan sharks are going to… they’re going to take our hands…” I had seen Nicole’s social media posts. She’d just bought a new emerald necklace that cost fifty million. But in response to our parents’ desperate plea, she sighed dramatically. “Mom, Dad, it’s not that I don’t want to help. But this was Grandpa’s inheritance for me. I can’t just spend it recklessly. If you want to blame someone, blame my sister for only choosing three matchsticks.” Before they could say another word, she hung up. A moment later, a new post appeared on her feed. It was a picture of her cuddling a small puppy. On the puppy’s head sat a tiny crown made of solid gold. The caption read: “Money should only be spent on those who are worthy.” My parents trembled with a rage that left them speechless. To scrape together the money for the next day, I sold everything I owned: my collection of rare cards, my autographed memorabilia. I even sold my smartphone for a cheap, second-hand flip phone. My mother sold her wedding jewelry, and my father sold his car. We managed to gather a few million. A sliver of relief softened my father’s brow. “This should be enough to hold off the loan sharks for tomorrow.” My mother, now calmer, turned to me, her expression grave. “Mindy, I’m so sorry. I lost control this morning and I took it out on you. I know none of this is your fault. Please, forgive me.” A lump formed in my throat. I almost started crying. “Maybe I really did make the wrong choice…” My father gently patted my shoulder. “It’s over and done with. Money is just money. But seeing Nicole’s true colors for what they are? In a way, that’s priceless. To think we took her in because we felt sorry for her, and we ended up raising a viper.” Dinner was just plain bread, but huddled together, we found a warmth that had been missing. My father started talking about the future, a spark returning to his eyes. “As long as I have my health and my hands, I can rebuild. I know I can.” That night, I steeled myself and lit the second match. “I wish,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “for my parents to be crippled and live a life of poverty.” If the first wish was reversed, then I had to wish for the opposite of what I wanted. Please, let this work. Let them live long, prosperous lives. I clutched the spent matchstick, too terrified to sleep. I was petrified that I would wake up to another disaster, just like the morning before. I didn’t need them to be rich. I just needed them to be healthy and happy. Around five in the morning, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit me. My head lolled to the side, and for a moment, the world went black. When I woke up, the house was eerily silent. My heart pounded against my ribs. I crept to my parents’ bedroom and peeked inside. They were sleeping peacefully. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. But as I turned to go back to my room, two piercing, agonized screams erupted from behind the door.

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I foolishly pined after Alex for three years. He hated using condoms. After we were done, he’d always stand there, shirtless, his back covered in scratch marks, smoking a cigarette with his back to me. He’d say it like he was doing me a favor: “What are you afraid of? If you get pregnant, we’ll just get married.” A month later, staring at the two lines on the pregnancy test, I chose not to tell him. Instead, I broke up with him, abruptly and completely. Later, he saw me at the abortion clinic. I was holding my belly, chatting with a pregnant woman next to me: “Don’t look at how much I cried when we broke up. If I really had to carry his child, I wouldn’t dare.” “I know the difference between crying into a pillow and crying holding a baby.” “Dating is fine, but for marriage? I have other options.” 1 The day I found out I was pregnant, I went to the club Alex frequented. Just as I was about to push the door open, I heard them discussing which brand of condoms felt the best. Someone joked, “Ask Alex. He has a girlfriend, he must have the most experience.” A moment later, I heard Alex speak carelessly: “Condoms? Never used them.” The person next to him paused. “Never? Aren’t you afraid Summer will get pregnant?” Alex lit a cigarette, his voice wrapped in smoke: “It’s fine. She remembers to take the pill after every time.” The room exploded. “Damn, you really trained her well.” Alex chuckled lazily. “She’s obedient. I know every mole on her body.” Someone couldn’t help but ask, “Alex, what if Summer really gets pregnant?” Alex paused, then spoke slowly: “If she gets pregnant, we’ll get married.” “Summer is sensible, and we get along. Marrying her wouldn’t be hard to accept.” Someone teased him, “If I recall correctly, you used to change girlfriends every week. Are you really ready to settle down?” Alex smirked indifferently. “Isn’t she not pregnant yet?” “I don’t want to think that far ahead.” “If I get bored, I’ll just find a decent reason to break up. She’s obedient.” “Besides, she’s a people pleaser. Every time we break up, she never blames me. She always reflects on herself first, then hugs me and apologizes.” “Last time I wanted to try it in the car on a whim. She refused, so I just scared her a little, said we’d break up if she didn’t agree, and she gave in.” People around him clicked their tongues. “Damn, so easy to fool.” Alex lowered his eyes, his voice softening. “She is too easy to fool, that’s why I don’t want anyone else to trick her.” “Good thing she met me. If she met a bad guy, that crybaby would lose her voice crying.” “Might as well keep her around. I can look after her, give me peace of mind.” Someone laughed. “So Alex is running a charity now.” “But you really have to watch her closely. With a face like Summer’s, who wouldn’t want to play?” “Innocent face, killer body. That ass is like a peach, ripe for the picking.” “If she were my girlfriend, I’d die happy.” Alex glanced at him coldly. “You? Don’t even think about it.” After a moment, as if remembering something, his gaze softened a bit: “But she really is innocent. No matter how many times we do it, she cries like it’s her first time.” “Honestly, if I really had to leave her, I’d be reluctant.” The people in the room teased him about becoming a lover boy. Just then, someone threw out a question: “Seriously Alex, if Summer gets pregnant, are you really settling down for her?” “Speaking of which, didn’t you get together with her just to spite your white moonlight, Bella?” “Bella seems to have broken up recently, and she’s working at your company. Isn’t your chance here?” This time, Alex stared at the floor in a daze. The cigarette tip glowed red. He didn’t speak for a long time. 2 I looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test. Actually, I wasn’t here to tell him I was pregnant. I was here because his friend called me, saying he was drunk and asking me to pick him up. Seeing Alex distracted by the mention of Bella actually made me sigh in relief. In fact, since the moment I realized I might be pregnant, I had been thinking about how to break up with him. Alex got together with me back then indeed because of Bella. There is a type of person in this world. Never suffered, never faced setbacks, speaking with a naive beauty of someone who’s never known hunger. Bella was that kind of person. She was my roommate. Every morning, she would look in the mirror, clench her fist, and sweetly cheer herself on: “Good morning, Bella! You are the warmest little sun, do your best today too!” When Alex pursued Bella, the whole school knew about the spectacle. Roses, luxury goods, thrown at her like money meant nothing. If she casually mentioned liking a bag, that bag would be at our dorm door the next day, costing three years of my part-time wages. Alex was eye-catching, standing out in the crowd. The moment he appeared, he was the focus of the school. Every time he showed up under the academic building, people secretly took photos of him. He didn’t care, just leaning against the doorframe, playing on his phone, waiting for Bella. Six-foot-two, wearing a windbreaker like a runway model. Even the wind seemed to favor him. No exaggeration, even his hair was perfect to the extreme. The first time I saw him, he was confessing to Bella with hands in his pockets. A face that looked mixed-race, high nose bridge, sharp jawline, a smile with a hint of lazy roguishness. Most importantly, he was rich. At the freshman gala, the principal personally accompanied his father to the VIP seats. His natural nobility wasn’t built on luxury goods. Sometimes I felt. Alex and Bella were the protagonists of this world. They had an innate sense of superiority. All good things would fall into their laps. And me. I was just a broken school beauty with a dead mom, a gambling dad, a sick grandma, working three jobs a day just to survive. An insignificant supporting character in their lives. Bella asked me why I worked three jobs. I explained patiently: “Because I have no money.” She almost rolled her eyes to the sky: “If you have no money, ask your dad. Why pretend to be so stressed every day, is it necessary?” I didn’t know how to make her understand my situation, only said softly: “My dad is my biggest stress.” Maybe because she never tasted the bitterness of life, she just didn’t like Alex. Instead, she fell for a poor, chauvinistic jock who was full of sweet words. He always gave cheap things. Every time Valentine’s Day approached, the jock would break up with her. But after Valentine’s Day, he would humble himself to reconcile with Bella. Bella didn’t notice anything wrong. But I was sensitive to money. I knew that man just didn’t want to waste money on a gift. Sometimes, I reminded her to stay away from him. She questioned me aggrievedly: “Summer, you’re so weird. Why do you always think so badly of people? Is it because… you’re jealous that no one holds you in their palm and loves you?” I stopped talking. Once on my way to the library, I saw Alex arguing with Bella in his luxury car. Alex threw the flowers meant for Bella on the ground, raising an eyebrow: “You’re dating? Why didn’t you tell me? “Is it fun playing me like this? “Where am I worse than him, huh?” Bella lifted her chin: “Alex, someone like you only knows how to throw money at me. You don’t understand love at all.” I thought Alex would show sadness. But I was wrong. Alex chuckled low. That laugh carried self-mockery and indifference: “I don’t need to understand. “I have money, naturally people will line up to love me.” He curled his finger at me standing nearby: “Hey, I’ll give you money, you come love me.” I froze. A long time later, I heard my own voice. “Okay.” I thought I was solving a problem for Bella. But Bella’s face sank instantly: “Summer, are you that cheap? “You pick up even things I don’t want?” I didn’t defend myself. I only knew my grandma was still in the hospital waiting for fees, and my father was pressing for gambling debts. I needed money. A lot of money. Enough money to pull me out of the mud. 3 After getting together, Alex was indeed good to me. When my father lost money and came to school to force me for money, Alex somehow made him never come again. Grandma’s medical bills were settled in one go, and she was transferred to a VIP ward in the city hospital. The nurse sent photos of her smiling in the sun every day. He could solve everything for me effortlessly. He made me quit all my part-time jobs. He showered me with gifts every day, surprising me in various ways. From designer bags to custom jewelry. I casually mentioned wanting to take a finance class, and the next day he hired a private tutor to come to school. Following him, I learned to read financial reports, make investments, and gradually mastered many skills to make money. Besides that, we hugged, kissed, and even got a room like normal couples. My first time, he was shirtless, his pale shoulder lines taut and smooth. When he leaned down to kiss me, the silver chain around his neck rested against his beautiful collarbone, swaying gently with his movements. My heart raced, almost hypoxic. He laughed softly: “Dummy. “Next time we kiss, remember to breathe.” Alex’s desire was truly strong, and I had to cater to his whims. He didn’t like using condoms, so I took the pill. He sought excitement, so I accompanied him to unlock various locations to keep it fresh. But he was indeed a jerk. After being with me, the women around him didn’t decrease. He never refused anyone. His social media showed intimate photos with various influencers. At banquets, women held his arm ambiguously, and he never pushed them away. Some women even called me directly, their tone provocative. I cried about this once. He didn’t care at all: “I’m dating you, not becoming a monk. “If you can’t handle it, fine, I won’t force you. “Then break up. I’ll find someone who can handle it.” Later, I became sensible and said nothing. In fact, I wasn’t as obedient as he said. I’m a woman, I also need appropriate release. Alex was handsome and rich, the best choice available. He was indeed charming. I have to say, he really pulled me up when my life was at its lowest. I was grateful to him. And I genuinely liked him. But he was that kind of person. Born at the top of the pyramid. He didn’t understand love, and would never know how to love you. But occasionally he would coax you like a lover. When he was inside, if you cried pain, he would cup your face, kissing you over and over, saying he loved you. He was a spoiled mad dog, but as long as you petted him the right way, he would care about you a little bit. Such a person was fine for dating. But I never thought about spending the rest of my life with him. I was twenty-seven, I couldn’t play anymore. I also wanted to find a suitable opportunity. To break up with him. 4 After returning from the club. Alex drank with friends and came home very late. The next day, Alex called me, voice lazy with sleep: “Summer, bring a file to the company for me, I need it for a meeting.” At the company, I accidentally saw Bella. Bella wore a washed-out business suit, holding a stack of files, hair combed meticulously, but couldn’t hide the awkwardness in her eyes. A few days ago, my university friend told me. Bella’s dad’s factory went under. The boyfriend she was discussing marriage with ran off with the last bit of money. Now she was a bottom-level clerk in Alex’s company, not even qualified to see him. Seeing me, Bella froze. She covered her mouth in surprise: “You’re Summer? How did you change so much, you were clearly…” Before she finished. Alex’s lazy voice came from behind. “Summer, where’s my file?” He walked over, hugging me naturally from behind, rubbing his chin against the back of my head. The movement was intimate, as if done thousands of times. Bella looked at the successful Alex, feeling a sense of loss. Her lips pressed into a line, fingertips pinching the edge of the file, knuckles white. But Alex was never intimate with me at the company. I knew he was doing it for Bella to see. The second time I saw Bella was on my fifth anniversary with Alex. Alex booked the most high-end five-star restaurant. At the table, he suddenly said to me: “I invited Bella, you don’t mind, right?” Seeing me stunned. He laughed: “What are you nervous about? Just wanted her to help us take some couple photos.” When Bella arrived. Alex leaned close to me familiarly, took my phone from my arms and handed it to her. “Make us look good.” He spoke with a smile, gaze on me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Bella’s hand holding the phone trembled. This reaction seemed to please Alex. He put his arm around my waist, deliberately pulling me closer, whispering in my ear: “Baby, smile. Five year anniversary.” His breath brushed my ear, as if he would kiss me the next second. But I could feel Alex was absent-minded talking to me, peripheral vision always on Bella. “Enough…” Bella suddenly put down the phone, voice choking, tears falling like broken pearls. “Alex, I know I was immature back then, I rejected you. But why do you have to humiliate me like this? “Deliberately treating her so well in front of me, deliberately making me take photos of you… Do you think it’s fun to see me sad, see me regret? “We knew each other anyway, I never did anything sorry to you… why must you bully me?” She trembled with crying, looking at Alex full of grievance. Alex’s body stiffened. I felt his grip on my shoulder hurt. Bella threw my phone on the ground, wiped her tears and ran away. Alex cursed low: “F*ck.” He pushed me away, grabbed his jacket and chased after her. I squatted down, picking up my phone. The screen was shattered. On our five-year anniversary, Alex left me there alone.

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I was blocked by my boss’s girlfriend. She screamed over the phone: “You’re a female subordinate, have some boundaries! Seducing your own boss after hours?” But the multi-million dollar contract in my hand was expiring tomorrow morning. When I tried to call back, my number had been blocked. The boss was MIA. No one at the company was responding. The next morning, my boss personally showed up at my front door, clutching the corporate seal. I yawned, leaning against the doorframe. “Boss, you’re a grown man. Have some boundaries.” “Showing up at a female subordinate’s house first thing in the morning? That’s not appropriate, is it?” 1 When I was briefing my boss on the final clauses of the contract, the office door cracked open. My boss’s girlfriend, Tiffany, poked her head in. When she saw me, her expression stiffened. Her eyes were red, her voice trembling as she asked carefully: “Gavin… am I interrupting your work?” My hand, resting on the contract, paused. My boss, Gavin Sterling, froze in awkward silence. He reacted a second later, moving to pull her in. But Tiffany took a step back, looking aggrieved as tears began to fall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be suspicious… it’s just… I heard people say that bosses and their capable assistants often develop feelings over time. I got scared…” I didn’t speak. I simply closed the laptop in front of me. Gavin’s face flushed red, then pale. His tone was flustered. “Tiff, stop overthinking. We’re just discussing a contract. Don’t let your imagination run wild.” “Discussing a contract…” Tiffany sobbed harder. “I know Elena is capable. Unlike me, I can’t help you with anything. I just cause trouble.” “But… but to discuss work, do you really need to keep the door closed?” The boss frowned, looking from the tearful Tiffany to me. Finally, his gaze settled on me. It was a look of obvious difficulty, pleading for me to smooth things over. “Elena, look at this… how about you step out for a moment? Let me explain things to her.” I stood up and gathered the files on the desk. “Fine,” I said. “But Mr. Wolf is waiting for the final version. If it’s not locked in by 9:00 AM tomorrow, the penalty is 15% of the total project value.” I paused, then added: “Mr. Sterling, my salary does not include overtime pay for handling your relationship drama.” With that, I opened the door and walked out. Behind me, Gavin’s face was frozen, accompanied by the sound of Tiffany’s escalating cries. 2 The office was eerily quiet. Tiffany had joined the company two years ago as a receptionist. Last year, she became Gavin’s girlfriend. Since then, she had acted like the Lady of the Manor. She was hostile toward any female creature that got too close to Gavin. Yet, she had her clique of supporters. Right now, she was leaning against the front desk, “sharing” something with a few colleagues. Her voice was sickly sweet, punctuated by giggles behind her hand. Her eyes, however, were like hooks, casting glances in my direction. “Sigh, Elena works so hard, my heart aches for her. Girls should really cherish themselves more. Otherwise, if Gavin finds out, he’ll blame me for not taking good care of her.” “My Gavin is just too soft-hearted. He always feels indebted to hardworking employees. I’ve told him so many times not to be too nice to subordinates; it causes misunderstandings.” The gazes around me turned sticky, filled with speculation and malicious excitement. I ignored them, pouring all my energy into the contract revisions. An hour later, I finished cross-checking every clause word by word. Clicked send. Recipient: Gavin Sterling. The moment the email went out, a pair of expensive high heels stopped by my desk. Tiffany leaned down, holding Gavin’s phone. “Elena, thanks for your hard work.” She smiled innocently, waving the phone. “Gavin left his phone with me. He was afraid I’d overthink things.” “Originally, he was worried about some… butterflies and bees trying to seduce my husband…” “Oh, Elena, don’t misunderstand! I’m not talking about you! You were definitely just sending a work email.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for the entire open-plan office to hear. Stifled laughter erupted from the nearby desks. Someone whispered snidely: “Tsk tsk, the official girlfriend came to mark her territory. Some people really have no boundaries.” “Right? Making Director at twenty-eight? Just on ability? Who are you kidding? We all know what kind of ‘ability’ stands out.” I smiled, leaning back in my chair. “Miss Tiffany, you used the word ‘husband’.” I looked her in the eye. “Did you two get a marriage license?” 3 Tiffany’s face turned crimson. She stammered, unable to speak for a long time. Finally, she glared at me viciously, turned on her heels, and clattered away. The colleagues around us immediately lowered their heads, pretending to work. I ignored them, my eyes returning to the computer screen. Time ticked by. The sky outside turned completely dark. The office emptied out until I was the only one left. The door to Gavin’s office remained shut tight. The corporate seal I needed never appeared. At 8:00 PM, I called Gavin. “Hello?” I suppressed my anxiety. “Miss Tiffany, please put Mr. Sterling on the phone. There is an urgent contract that needs his attention.” A light laugh came from the other end. “Oh, Director Vance. Looking for a man to talk work this late? My Gavin is already asleep.” I gripped my phone tighter, my voice dropping three degrees. “This contract involves tens of millions in business. The deadline is 9:00 AM tomorrow. The company cannot afford the breach of contract penalty.” “Oh, what to do then? But work is never-ending, and health is most important. I couldn’t possibly wake him up now. Director Vance, you’re so capable, surely you can solve this yourself, right?” She hung up immediately. I redialed instantly. The receiver played a cold automated message. The user you are calling is busy. I dialed again. Same message. I had been blocked. 4 I switched to our internal messaging app to text Gavin. [Mr. Sterling, the contract with Mr. Wolf expires at 9 AM tomorrow. The company cannot bear the penalty. Please call back immediately to authorize the seal.] A red exclamation mark popped up. [The user has enabled friend verification. You are not yet friends with this user.] Excellent. I picked up the landline and called the other executives. The Vice President’s phone rang twice before being hung up. Immediately after, a text arrived: [Elena, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but… you know the situation with Gavin and Tiffany. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to call right now, would it?] The CFO actually answered, though his voice was evasive. “Elena, don’t panic, don’t panic. Uh… Mr. Sterling is… well, Tiffany is in a rage right now. No matter how big the contract is, it’s not bigger than the boss’s family matters, right? Just wait, we’ll talk tomorrow.” “Mr. Lee,” I interrupted him. “After 9 AM tomorrow, we will be discussing how to pay over a million dollars in penalties.” The line went silent, followed by a dry laugh. “I… I’ll think of something.” Then, silence. Cornered, I opened the company-wide Slack channel. I drafted a message and tagged @channel. [URGENT NOTICE TO ALL STAFF:] [The multi-million dollar contract with Wolf Enterprises requires a corporate seal before 9 AM tomorrow. Failure to do so will result in a massive penalty. Mr. Sterling is currently unreachable. Any colleague with access or contact, please assist. The company’s survival is at stake.] The chat was dead silent. A few seconds later, Gavin’s avatar popped up. But the tone was unmistakably Tiffany’s. [@Elena Vance, sister, I know you mean well for the company, but Gavin is really not feeling well today and needs rest. Sending messages like this so late will just worry everyone.] [Besides… I’ve never heard Gavin mention this huge contract. Sister, please don’t be scammed by outsiders. If the contract is fake, Gavin will be so heartbroken for you. If the company suffers a loss, how could you afford to take responsibility alone?] Every word was a dagger. Before I could reply, a gray notification appeared on the screen. [You have been removed from the channel by the administrator.]

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When our son turned one, a top lab found the “genius gene” in his DNA. I poured money into his development, and my parents were thrilled, pledging to groom him as their heir. At dinner, I suggested the “Little Buffett” finance camp. Mark cut me off, slamming three full glasses down. “The first,” he slurred, “is to five years of working like a dog, never spending on myself. The second is to my genius son, whose tuition costs me tens of thousands a year!” He downed all three. “And the third is to me, the world’s biggest fool—with a wife who only throws money away!” I was shocked. “Our son has a gift! Should we just waste it?” My mother-in-law hugged our son. “Calm down. Evelyn meant well. Genius needs special investment.” Mark’s voice broke. “Mom, I won’t have a penny left for your retirement! If I’m laid off, we’ll be on the street!” I pulled out my phone. “I’ve already paid the $10,000 deposit.” He swept dishes off the table. “Fine! Let your rich family pay! We’ll link accounts under the ‘Fair Parenting’ system—every cent on our son, split 50-50!” Rage took over. “Fine! Split it! I’m not afraid!” But when the system activated, he was left speechless. 1 The “Fair Parenting” system, endorsed by the government, was famously impartial. Once you were linked, there was no backing out. “Fine, Evelyn,” Mark sneered, his breath reeking of liquor and rage. “You think you’re so smart. I’m sick of your family’s money-burning approach to education. Let’s do it! Right now! Whoever backs out is a coward!” He opened the app, a blue shield icon on his screen. His mother lunged for the phone. “Are you crazy? This is humiliating! Who splits the cost of raising their own child?” “I’ll get a job tomorrow, I won’t be a burden! But you can’t link this system!” Mark held the phone high above her head with one hand and slammed a thick stack of bank statements onto the table with the other. “Mom, open your eyes! In the last month alone—tuition, enrichment classes, some ridiculous ‘child development coach’—it’s been tens of thousands of dollars! My credit card is maxed out! I can’t take it anymore!” He was shouting so hard that tears welled in his eyes. His mother glanced at the statements, and the color drained from her face. She turned and snatched my phone. “Evelyn, dear, please! Mark is drunk. Don’t listen to him. This will ruin your relationship!” “What will your parents think of us? We’ll be more frugal, I promise! I won’t even eat meat! Please, I’m begging you!” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Thank you for your concern, Mom. But it was your son who just accused me of being useless and demanded we split everything.” My eyes darted to our son, playing on the floor. “Leo!” I shrieked. “What’s wrong?” My mother-in-law froze, whipping her head around to look at her grandson. In that split second, I snatched my phone back from her loosened grip. My thumb slammed down on the “Confirm” button. Mark, seeing my decisiveness, mirrored my actions with a furious tap. “Evelyn!” my mother-in-law shrieked, and then her hand flew out, slapping me across the face. The sting was sharp, shocking. “You can’t do this! Cancel it! Quickly!” she pleaded, her tone shifting from anger to panic. “Evelyn, I was just so worried. Please, let’s cancel it… Did I hurt you?” I touched my reddening cheek, my gaze fixed on her and her son. “You love me so much, Mom. It’s overwhelming.” Mark just scoffed. “It’s too late, Mom. We can’t cancel it.” “The system is legally binding. As long as Evelyn and I are alive, every penny spent on Leo will be split fifty-fifty.” His mother’s face turned ashen. She swayed on her feet, a look of pure, unadulterated panic in her eyes. Ding. Two notifications chimed simultaneously from our phones. [Fair Parenting System Notice: Mr. Mark Davis and Ms. Evelyn Reed, you have successfully linked your accounts. This system is now in effect and is legally enforceable. All parenting-related expenses will be calculated with absolute fairness. This agreement is not affected by marital status. The first settlement will be processed in 24 hours. Please ensure sufficient funds are in your account.] Mark threw his head back and laughed. “Just you wait, Evelyn! When that first bill comes, we’ll see who’s laughing then!” 2 That night, I stared at my phone, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. Mark did work hard, and I had always been the one to manage his salary. I knew exactly what came in and what went out. In the last year alone, the imported, specially formulated milk for Leo cost four to five hundred dollars a month. The “Global Young Scientists” program was sixty-eight hundred a year for two classes a week. And then there were the ridiculously expensive potential assessments, the child development coach… My parents had helped out a lot. The ten-thousand-dollar deposit for the finance camp had come from my mother. But the bulk of the day-to-day expenses… they had come from Mark’s account. The first payment notification was due at 10 p.m. Was I really about to owe him a huge sum of money? I had just gone on a two-hundred-dollar grocery run yesterday, and I had used his card. “Scared now?” Mark drawled from the sofa, a smirk on his face. “Too late. You’re going to be crying when you see that bill.” At precisely 10 p.m., my phone buzzed. I took a deep breath and opened the notification. [Fair Parenting System Notice: First settlement complete. Regarding the submitted expense “August 5th grocery purchase of infant food, total $220.00”: This expense has been excluded from the cost-sharing calculation. This is for your information.] I blinked, my eyes widening in disbelief. At the same time, Mark shot up from the sofa, waving his phone in the air. “What the hell is this? The system must be bugged! Evelyn, what did you do? You’re the one who owes me money!” “Did my hundred and ten dollars just disappear into thin air? This isn’t fifty-fifty at all!” “Don’t you dare accuse me of anything, Mark!” I shot back. “How could I possibly cheat the system?” [System verification complete. The items from yesterday’s purchase were not consumed by the target child, Leo Davis.] “Bullshit!” Mark’s face was contorted with rage. “Not consumed by Leo? Then what, did the dog eat it?” [System accessing smart home surveillance and item recognition data… Displaying now.] The living room television flickered to life. His mother rushed to turn it off, but the power button was disabled. On the screen, we watched as she hid the expensive, imported formula I had just bought. She then took an empty can of the same brand and filled it with a cheap, generic powder. The scene shifted to that afternoon. She was feeding Leo a bottle made with the cheap, switched formula. A hot rush of anger surged through me. “Mom! What is the meaning of this? Why did you switch his formula? Why are you feeding Leo cheap garbage?” Her eyes darted around the room. “Evelyn, Mark, don’t misunderstand!” she stammered. “It’s not bad formula. It’s a special recipe from my hometown, even more nutritious than that imported stuff! I was just afraid you young people wouldn’t believe me, so I swapped it. I was only trying to help!” “Help?” I demanded, my suspicion growing. “If you were trying to help, why did you hide the formula I bought?” “I…” She was at a loss for words. Mark cut in, his brow furrowed. “What are you yelling at her for? She was just trying to do what’s best for Leo! All that imported stuff is probably just a scam anyway! Would Mom ever do anything to harm her own grandson?” I almost laughed. “Fine. Forget the formula. What about his food? Did you cook the cod and organic vegetables I bought? Did Leo eat any of it?” 3 “Of course I did!” his mother cried, her voice filled with indignation. “I make him a different nutritious meal every single day! It’s just that today…” She clutched her chest, her voice catching. “Mark, I went to the doctor a few days ago. He said I’m anemic, that I need to eat better. I know you have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want to tell you. But I was so dizzy today, I just… I ate Leo’s meal myself. I’m so sorry…” She sobbed, her performance utterly convincing. Mark immediately rushed to her side. “Mom! Why didn’t you tell me? Your health is the most important thing!” I looked at my mother-in-law, whose complexion was healthier than mine, and felt a surge of disgust. “It’s a good thing we linked this system,” I said, my voice cold. “Every penny spent on Leo needs to be accounted for.” “Evelyn, have you no conscience?” Mark snarled, glaring at me. “Mom is clearly not well, and you’re still being sarcastic! It’s our fault for neglecting her!” His mother’s sobs grew louder. “Mark, it’s fine. It’s all my fault. This system… it’s just trying to tear our family apart! Maybe we should just cancel it?” “Cancel it?” I stood up straight. “Mom, once you start something, you have to see it through.” “Mom,” Mark asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, “be honest with me. Has this happened before? With the formula, or any of Leo’s other things?” “No! Absolutely not!” she interrupted, her voice shrill. “Mark, how can you not trust me? It was just this once!” He seemed to accept her answer. “It was just an accident. All the other money we’ve spent on Leo over the years was legitimate! I’ve done the math. When this is all said and done, you’re going to owe me at least a million dollars!” A humorless smile touched my lips. “We’ll see about that, Mark. We’ll see who owes who in the end.” … The next morning, another notification arrived. [System initiating retroactive review of “Genius Child All-Inclusive Insurance,” premium $3,000.] [Verification has revealed an abnormal beneficiary designation. Ruling: Evelyn Reed’s account to be credited $1,500. Mark Davis’s account to be debited $1,500.] “What the hell?” Mark’s roar nearly shook the house. “Evelyn! Look at this! This stupid system has lost its mind! We split that premium fifty-fifty last year!” I stared at the credit notification on my phone, completely bewildered. “System, what’s going on? This was already settled.” [System notice: Anomaly detected in the designated beneficiary of the policy.] “What kind of anomaly? The policy is for my son!” Mark paced the room like a caged animal. His mother emerged from the kitchen with breakfast, a look of concern on her face. “What’s all the shouting about? An insurance policy? Maybe the company made a mistake? Calm down, let’s talk this through.” “A mistake?” Mark was incredulous. “Mom, even if they made a mistake, they should be refunding the fifteen hundred to me! Why is Evelyn getting credited while I’m getting debited? This is robbery!” “Stop freaking out and let’s see what the system says!” I snapped. [System notice: Verifying policy information and modification logs… Verification complete.] [The insured individual has been modified. The currently linked identification and biometric data belong to ‘Oscar Davis.’]

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