Category: English

Winter was creeping in, and my wardrobe was screaming for an update. As I was browsing online, my roommate, Lauren, rushed over and shoved her phone in my face. “Ava, let’s go in on this puffer jacket together.” Her logic was… something else. “You know how I can’t stand the cold, so I’ll wear it now while the temperature’s dropping. Then when it warms up, it’s all yours!” I just stared at her. Was she for real? Did she think I was a total idiot? Before I could even form a refusal, she excitedly hit ‘purchase’. “It’s the latest model! Four hundred and fifty bucks!” she chirped. “Since I’ll be the one picking up the package, I deserve a little something for my trouble. Just Venmo me three-fifty, okay?” Then came the kicker. “And it’s already bought! If you dare back out, I’ll have my boyfriend—the Student Government president—make sure some of your credits just… disappear. You’ll never graduate.” I looked at her smug, entitled face and a slow smile spread across mine. “Sure,” I said. “Let’s split it.” I couldn’t wait to see who would be the one not graduating, especially after they tried to threaten and extort me in a university my own father funded. 01 Hearing me agree, Lauren nodded, completely satisfied with herself. “Summer and spring are way longer than winter,” she declared, as if explaining a complex theorem. “That means you’ll have it for more time than I will, so you’ll be responsible for the dry cleaning, too.” She gave my shoulder a playful shove, her smile blindingly bright. “I’ll only be wearing it for a few weeks. See? I’m not taking advantage of you at all. You’re getting a great deal!” My eyebrow twitched. “Who in their right mind wears a puffer jacket when it’s warm out?” I asked, my voice flat. “When you give it to me in April, what am I supposed to do with it?” Lauren’s smile vanished, replaced by a scowl. “What’s your problem? You were going to buy a new jacket anyway. Alone, it would’ve cost you $450. With me, it’s only $350. It’s simple math. Are you dense? I’m doing you a huge favor, and you’re still complaining?” I almost laughed out loud. I was supposed to be grateful for paying a fortune for a jacket I’d never get to wear? I pretended to mull it over. “Well, if you think I’m getting such a good deal, why don’t we switch? I’ll wear it when it’s cold, and you can have it when it warms up.” Her expression soured even more. “What is wrong with you? I just told you I hate the cold! Are you trying to pick a fight? No, we already agreed. You’re not backing out now!” So that was it. I was officially the designated sucker. But I wasn’t angry. Not really. After all, the online flagship store she’d bought it from? My family owned it. Not only would I not be losing much, but I already had the perfect plan for teaching her a lesson. Just then, the dorm room door swung open. Our other roommates, Hailey and Megan, walked in carrying takeout containers. Seeing the tension, Hailey frowned. “What’s going on?” I calmly explained the whole “puffer jacket partnership.” I expected them to side with me, to see the sheer absurdity of it. Instead, Hailey’s face hardened as she looked at me. “Lauren’s right, though.” “She’s only wearing it for a short time, and she’s handling the delivery,” she reasoned. “It makes sense that she pays less.” “Exactly,” Megan chimed in, moving to stand with Lauren. “Besides, you’re always so careless and messy. If the jacket gets dirty, it’s only fair that you clean it.” At their words, Lauren shot me a triumphant smirk before turning to her new allies. “By the way, I talked to my boyfriend about your applications to the Student Government. He said it’s a done deal.” Hailey and Megan were instantly fawning over her, grabbing her hands. “You’re the best, Lauren!” “We’re so lucky to have you as a roommate!” “I heard Caleb is the Dean’s son! Once we’re in the Student Government, getting extra credits will be a breeze!” They chattered on, their faces plastered with sycophantic smiles. So that’s what this was about. Everyone was walking on eggshells around her because of her so-called powerful boyfriend. But… the Dean has a son? My dad had known the Dean for years, and all I’d ever heard was that he had a daughter studying abroad. Where did this son come from? Seeing my silence, Lauren shoved her phone in my face again, her Venmo QR code glowing. “This jacket is this season’s hottest item,” she urged. “You should be thanking me that you’ll even get a chance to be associated with it. Now, pay up!” As much as I hated sending the money, the thought of the epic meltdown I was about to engineer made it all worthwhile. I pulled out my phone and scanned the code. The second the $350 transfer went through, Lauren snatched my phone. “Wait! You’re short five hundred dollars!” 02 I stared at her, bewildered. “Wasn’t it three-fifty? Now it’s eight-fifty? Why don’t you just ask me to buy you the jacket outright?” She frowned, crossing her arms. “Ava, everyone knows white is your favorite color, and I specifically ordered the white one for you. That’s an extra five hundred.” I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “You placed the order. You picked the color.” She looked at me as if she were bestowing a great gift. “Exactly. I went out of my way to choose the color you like. Why are you so ungrateful?” Hailey nodded sagely from the sidelines. “It’s like with cars. You pay extra for a premium color. This is the same thing. Since it’s the color you like, you should pay for it.” Megan quickly agreed. “Yeah, Lauren already gave you such a huge discount. Don’t be so stingy over a little extra cash.” I looked at them in disbelief. “A little extra cash?” “Yeah,” Lauren said, her arms still crossed. “Your family’s loaded, right? It’s just five hundred bucks. Are you really going to haggle with me over it? If you couldn’t afford it, you shouldn’t have agreed in the first place.” Yes, my family had money. But what did that have to do with her? The initial $350 was bad enough. This was pushing it, and suddenly, this little game wasn’t fun anymore. I took a deep breath, my voice turning to ice. “I never said I liked white. And since it seems nobody is happy with this arrangement, let’s just cancel the order.” The word “cancel” made Lauren freeze. Then she grabbed my arm, her voice a shrill cry. “No! It’s going to get colder in a few days, we can’t cancel it!” she shrieked. “Are you trying to make me freeze to death? How can you be so cruel! If my boyfriend finds out I don’t have a decent jacket to wear when it’s cold, he’ll be heartbroken!” I rolled my eyes. “He’ll be heartbroken? Then tell him to buy it for you. Isn’t he the Dean’s son? If he won’t even shell out for a jacket, it doesn’t sound like he loves you that much.” “You!” Lauren’s face flushed a deep crimson. “I’m not the kind of woman who asks a man to buy things for her! You might have no shame, but I do!” I was done. This was beyond ridiculous. I yanked my arm free from her grasp. “Fine. Don’t cancel it. In that case, I look forward to its arrival.” Without another word, I walked out of the dorm. For the next few days, Lauren acted as if nothing had happened. She even had the audacity to ask me to let her copy my homework. A few days later, I came back from class to find her preening in front of the mirror, wearing the newly arrived puffer jacket. “I’m wearing this to see Ethan tonight,” she announced. “He’s going to love it!” Hailey and Megan were practically drooling. “Lauren, with your figure, you look amazing in anything!” “Caleb will definitely love it!” A slow, predatory smile spread across my face as I stared at the jacket. It had finally arrived. Noticing my silent gaze, Lauren instinctively pulled the collar tighter around her neck. “It’s only forty-five degrees today. I’ll wear it first. You can wait a few more weeks.” She looked me up and down with a condescending sneer. “Besides, I ordered a size small. It might be a little… snug on you right now. Think of it as motivation. I’m giving you time to slim down. Aren’t I nice?” Hailey and Megan snickered. “From the looks of it, she’ll need until next winter!” “It’s fine,” Megan added helpfully. “Spring can be chilly too. Just work really hard, and maybe you can wear it then.” I couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh, it won’t be that much trouble,” I said sweetly. In a flash, I strode to my desk, pulled a pair of heavy-duty fabric shears from my drawer, and walked toward Lauren. She stared at me, confused. The next second, there was the sharp, satisfying shhhhrrrrip of tearing fabric. In less than five seconds, I had sliced the brand-new puffer jacket clean in half, right up the middle. I smiled. “Weren’t we ‘splitting’ the jacket?” “You get half, and I get half. That’s what splitting means.” 03 It took a moment for her brain to catch up. Then, Lauren let out a terrified shriek and stumbled backward. “Ah! What are you doing?!” I held up the two halves, my expression one of pure innocence. “Splitting the jacket. You get half, and I get half.” I pulled the ruined garment off her shoulders, took the shears, and finished snipping through the back. Then I looked up, my eyes wide and guileless. “Do you want the left side or the right side?” Lauren stared at the bisected jacket, her entire body trembling with rage. Her voice was a strained squeak. “Ava Sterling, you are a psycho!” “You’re the one who ruined it! I don’t want it anymore! You owe me money!” I shook my head, clicking my tongue. “Tsk, tsk. I already paid my share. More than my share, in fact. Did you forget?” Hailey and Megan finally snapped out of their shock, pointing at me with accusatory fingers. “You just cut up a perfectly good jacket! You’re sick!” “Lauren waited days for that, and you just destroyed it!” “I bet you were just jealous that she looks better than you!” I smiled serenely. “So, if we ‘split’ a pizza, I can eat it all when I’m hungry, and you two can have the leftover crusts when I’m done? Is that how it works?” “You!” Lauren sputtered, her face turning purple. “You’re twisting my words! A jacket isn’t the same as pizza!” “You knew I had a date with my boyfriend tonight! You did this on purpose, didn’t you!” she screeched, getting more agitated by the second. “I knew it! You’ve been after my boyfriend for ages! You’re trying to ruin our date!” “I’m telling you right now,” she seethed, “you deliberately destroyed my property! I’m going to tell my boyfriend, and I’m going to tell the student counselor! Just you wait!” With that, she stormed out, throwing on a plain wool coat. Hailey and Megan shot me venomous glares. “You’re a real idiot, Ava. You just picked a fight with the Student Government president’s girlfriend.” “It was just a jacket. You’re so petty.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Today it’s a jacket. Tomorrow it might be a luxury handbag. A few days from now, who knows? Maybe a car or a house.” I paused, a sweet smile on my face. “Since you two are so generous, why don’t you ‘split’ something with her next time?” They both stammered, unable to respond. “Why should we? We don’t have money like you.” “Yeah, you’re being completely unreasonable!” With that, they scurried out after Lauren. Feeling fantastic, I tossed one half of the ruined jacket into the trash. The $350 I lost could be considered a donation to my parents’ flagship store. But for Lauren, this was different. She had picked out this jacket for herself, and for her, $100 was not a small amount. She probably hated my guts right now. Sure enough, I had just stepped out of the shower when my phone started blowing up with notifications from the class group chat. [Ava Sterling, are you mentally unstable? It’s bad enough you’re always freeloading off your roommates, but now you’re destroying their things?] [Are you that jealous that your roommate bought a nice, name-brand jacket?] [Pay Lauren back right now! The full $450! Don’t you dare short her a penny!] I dried my hair, a cold smile playing on my lips as messages flooded the screen. Lauren worked fast. In just a few minutes, she had painted me as a jealous, tyrannical, destructive monster. If she was so eager for social suicide, I was happy to oblige. I opened the group chat and posted a single screenshot. 04 It was my Venmo history with Lauren. A transfer of $350, clear as day. [Before anyone else jumps to conclusions, I paid $350 for this jacket. Lauren only paid $100.] [She proposed we ‘split’ it. She wears it when it’s cold, I wear it when it’s hot.] [Last I checked, no one wears a puffer jacket in May. So, I just helped her realize her dream of ‘splitting’ it. One half for each of us. Perfectly fair.] The chat went silent for a few seconds. Then, Lauren immediately responded: [What $350? I never got that. Anyone can photoshop a screenshot! Stop spreading lies!] [Here’s my purchase confirmation. My order. My name!] [My family isn’t rich like yours. I was planning to wear that jacket for years, and now… now you’ve destroyed it…] Her crocodile tears worked. The chat erupted again, with students rushing to her defense. [I knew it. Who would be weird enough to suggest someone wear a puffer jacket in the summer?] [LOL, who ‘splits’ a jacket anyway? She’s obviously just jealous that Lauren is dating Caleb and made up some crazy story.] [Yeah, if you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!] I rolled my eyes. I was about to post the audio recording when I discovered I’d been kicked out of the group. Just then, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Ava, I heard you had a conflict with a student at school?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “What happened?” I was stunned. “How did you know?” “Your student counselor just called me,” he explained. “Said you intentionally damaged another student’s property and that I need to come to the university.” It all clicked. Lauren had actually gone to the counselor. Before I could even explain, my dad was already reassuring me. “It’s okay, Ava. I trust you. I know you wouldn’t do something like that. I’ll be there tomorrow.” “Thanks, Dad…” I murmured. Suddenly, the dorm room door burst open. Lauren strode in, a triumphant look on her face. “Ava Sterling. If you give me the money now, I’ll consider dropping this,” she said coolly. “Four hundred and fifty dollars. Not a penny less. Consider it compensation.” I was about to retort when several people walked in behind her. It was Ms. Albright, the student affairs counselor, and… Caleb Vance, the Student Government president? I quickly threw on a jacket. “It’s after 9 PM. Isn’t it against the rules to bring a male student into the dorms?” Hailey, standing nearby, let out a derisive snort. “Oh, stop pretending. You’ve had a crush on Caleb forever. I bet you’re secretly thrilled.” Ms. Albright didn’t intervene. Instead, she fixed me with a stern gaze. “Ava Sterling, you destroyed a fellow student’s private property without cause. You’re in no position to talk about rules. Caleb is here representing the Student Government. Do you have a problem with that?” Caleb looked me up and down, his expression disdainful. “So you’re the one who’s been bullying Lauren?” he drawled. “Forget about joining the Student Government. Now, apologize to Lauren and pay her what you owe. Immediately.” I let out a cold laugh and sat down. “So, Lauren’s courage to extort and threaten students comes from having you two backing her up?” At that, Lauren threw herself into Caleb’s arms and started sobbing. “You see? She doesn’t even respect you, the Dean’s son! Why would she ever respect a counselor?” “If she gets away with this, she’ll only become more arrogant!” “The Dean’s son?” a voice crackled from my phone’s earpiece. It was my dad. “When did old Hayes have a son? Am I missing something?” I had forgotten to hang up. Caleb looked at Ms. Albright. “Lauren’s right. I can have her credits revoked, but that’s not enough.” Ms. Albright gave him a fawning smile, then turned back to me, her face a mask of disgust. “For bullying, violent behavior towards a fellow student, and refusal to offer compensation or an apology, I will be formally recommending your expulsion to the university!” “Think very carefully about your next move!” “Expulsion?!” my dad’s roar echoed through the phone. “You’re going to expel my daughter without even hearing her side of the story? Ha! I’d like to see Dean Hayes try! Ava, don’t be scared. Just wait.” The line went dead. A second later, Ms. Albright’s phone rang.

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I accidentally overheard the class beauty fighting with her boyfriend, and I was the innocent bystander caught in the crossfire. “If you think I’m dumb, go find Emma Evans then!” “You’re the top student, she’s number two. You guys are a perfect match!” I froze. For three years of high school, Liam Carter and I had firmly held the top two spots in our grade. Our names appeared side-by-side countless times on the school’s honor roll. Classmates jokingly called us the “Golden Couple” of Northwood High. In reality, we hadn’t spoken a single word to each other. Liam sounded exasperated. “I don’t even like her.” “But I’m just unhappy! Unhappy that your names are always together, unhappy that you’ll go to the same university in the future!” I had no interest in listening to a lovers’ quarrel. Just as I was about to leave, Liam’s words stopped me in my tracks. “Alright, alright. You already made her lose her Stanford early admission offer. Aren’t you satisfied?” 1 “The offer is gone, but she can still take the SATs! Am I supposed to just watch you two go to Stanford together?” “Who does Emma Evans think she is? Besides her grades, where does she even compare to me?” Even when angry, Chloe Bennett was beautiful. Liam ruffled her hair. He said dotingly, “Yes, yes. She’s not as pretty as you, her figure isn’t as good as yours, her family isn’t as rich as yours. Her personality is dull and boring. I’d be blind to like her, okay? Honestly, even if Emma ran naked after me for ten miles, I wouldn’t turn around once.” Chloe giggled, amused. “Not mad anymore?” “Mm.” Liam pulled her into his embrace, his tone suggestive. “Don’t mention breaking up again, or I’ll find plenty of ways to make you beg for mercy.” Chloe blushed at whatever thought crossed her mind. “You’re so bad~” The couple walked away, flirting. Leaving me standing there, face dark, fists clenched tight. 2 A month ago, my early admission offer to Stanford, secured through the National Math Olympiad, was revoked due to an anonymous tip. The report claimed I had disciplinary issues during school and didn’t meet the requirements for early admission. This so-called “disciplinary issue” was merely an incident in freshman year where someone in my dorm used a banned appliance, resulting in a warning for the whole room. But I remembered clearly: I wasn’t given any personal demerit. And since it wasn’t my fault to begin with, I naturally couldn’t accept this outcome. I immediately appealed to the school. The response was: Although I didn’t receive a formal punishment, the warning was recorded in my file and still affected my comprehensive evaluation. My world collapsed. No one knew how much effort I had put into walking this path. For three whole years, I spent five or six hours a day on competition prep. No entertainment, no winter or summer breaks, just endless problem sets. From dawn to dusk, tireless. The cost of each competition was nothing to others, but it was squeezed out of my meager living expenses. For the national finals in D.C., my mom used borrowed money to buy my train ticket and book a hotel, saying she believed in me. I thought I could put a perfect period on three years of hard work. But things didn’t go as planned. The admission offer I had in hand could still be canceled. And the culprit did it simply because she didn’t want me attending the same university as her boyfriend. It was absurd, laughable. Thinking back now, I finally understood why the school was so adamant, giving me zero chances. Chloe’s father was the school principal. The seeds of hatred took root and spread like wild weeds in my heart. 3 Back in the classroom, I saw Chloe chatting with a few girls. “Chloe, are you really not going to study abroad? So many people would kill for the chance.” “That’s just my dad’s idea. I’m not going. I’ve decided to only apply to schools in the Bay Area.” A girl teased, “Has to be close enough to Stanford, right?” They laughed together. Chloe’s grades were mediocre. She scored around 1200 on the SATs at best; getting into a decent state college was a toss-up. No wonder her principal father planned for her to go abroad. But alas, Chloe was hopelessly lovestruck. How could she bear four years of long-distance with Liam? I walked past them. Chloe saw me too. She rolled her eyes at me without disguising it, then turned back to laughing. I walked to my seat expressionless. As I put my bag down, a notebook accidentally fell out, landing on my desk mate’s side. “Careful. Hey, what’s this?” My desk mate exclaimed as if she’d discovered a massive secret. “Holy crap! Emma, you like Liam!” The noisy classroom instantly went silent. Everyone looked over. My desk mate held up my notebook high. “Look what’s written in here!” On the open page, hundreds of names were written densely in red ink. Each stroke was neat and elegant, showing the care put into writing them. Every single name was the same. “Liam Carter.” The whole class was in an uproar. 4 Although rumors about me and Liam occasionally floated around school, everyone knew they were just jokes. Plus, I had been a loner for three years, quiet and reserved. No one would have thought in that direction. Now that it was suddenly revealed I liked Liam, how could it not be huge gossip? The next second, everyone’s eyes fell on Chloe. Everyone wore looks of anticipation for the drama. Who didn’t know that Liam was Chloe’s trigger? Chloe exploded instantly. “Emma Evans, have you no shame? Liam is my boyfriend. What right do you have to like him?” Chloe’s clique chimed in. “If you don’t have a mirror, surely you can look in a puddle? Look at yourself!” “A toad wanting to eat swan meat.” “So the quiet ones are actually the sketchiest.” I remained calm despite their mockery. Chloe stormed over. She snatched the notebook from my desk mate and tore it to shreds. “I’m warning you, Liam is my boyfriend. If you dare harass him, don’t blame me for getting nasty!” I believed her. Once, a girl from another class gave Liam a love letter. After Chloe found out, she took people to harass the girl every day. I heard they even took nude photos of her, threatening her not to tell teachers or parents. The long-term bullying caused the girl psychological issues. Eventually, she had to drop out. But because of Chloe’s status as the principal’s daughter, no one dared to report it. Seeing I was still silent, Chloe got angrier. “I’m talking to you! Are you deaf?!” I slowly looked up, my tone sincere and innocent. “But you guys aren’t married.” “And I don’t think I’m worse than you.” “After all, besides that face, you’re useless.” Gasps echoed around me. Everyone looked at me like I was a ghost. Chloe’s eyes widened in disbelief, looking like she’d been struck by lightning.

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When I got my very own smartphone at the age of five, I started receiving strange messages every day. The stranger on the other end called me “Mom.” At 3:00 AM this morning, she texted again. “Mom, I dreamed of you again. The attic is leaking. My stepmother told me to soak it up with a rag, but the rag is too small. I’ve been wiping all night and it’s still wet. Mom, I’m so cold and hungry. I miss you…” I tilted my head, watching the rain pour against my window, and typed out a serious reply with my tiny fingers: “Don’t be scared, baby. Where are you? Mommy will send you some yummy food!” 1 “Who are you?” The reply came instantly. I was confused. I blinked my big eyes and pouted. “Didn’t you call me Mom?” Why was she asking who I was now? To show I was a responsible mother, I added a cute, patient emoji at the end of my sentence. (◕‿◕) But I waited a long time. My daughter never replied, and I eventually drifted off to sleep. The next morning, I rubbed my sleepy eyes and instinctively reached for my phone. There was a message on the screen: “You aren’t my mom. My mom passed away five years ago.” I looked down at my round little tummy and put my hands on my hips, puffing up my cheeks. “That’s rude! I’m five years old this year, alive and kicking!” Then, it hit me. Her mom disappeared five years ago. My mommy says when people disappear, they get reincarnated. I am exactly five years old. Maybe I really am her mom! When we play house at preschool, I’m always the Gold Medal Mommy! Just as I was about to explain this logic to her, a new message popped up. “I don’t know who you are, but thank you.” “This was my mom’s old number. Today is my 18th birthday. If it’s not too much trouble, could you wish me a happy birthday?” I slipped into my bunny slippers and sent a voice note in my milky, toddler voice, which converted to text: “Happy Birthday, baby! Be happy and eat lots of candy!” Then I thought about it. Every year on my birthday, Mommy and Daddy give me big presents. My daughter needs a big present too. So I texted: “What gift do you want from Mommy today?” “Mommy likes cute dolls and chocolate. What do you like?” The girl on the other end hesitated for a long time before replying: “Could you send me some painkillers?” I didn’t really know what painkillers were. But I knew people only took medicine when they were sick. I quickly asked, “Baby, are you sick?” “Actually, my stepmother locked me in the attic last night…” She seemed afraid I would misunderstand and started explaining. “She said I stole money. She locked me up and beat me. I hurt all over. I just want the pain to stop.” Stepmother. That sounded bad. Like the Evil Queen in Snow White. Furious, I typed back: “Your stepmom is so bad! She’s a monster! Don’t be scared, baby. My Daddy is a Bulldog in the Chinese zodiac… wait, no, he’s just fierce! I’ll tell him to bite her for you!” I asked for her address, then ran downstairs to find our housekeeper, Mrs. Higgins. “Mrs. Higgins, I need a delivery service!” Then I opened the cabinet and sprawled out on the floor, my little butt in the air, rummaging through the boxes. There were so many colorful boxes. I didn’t recognize any of them. Mrs. Higgins saw my face scrunched up in confusion and asked kindly, “Lily, honey, what are you looking for?” I looked up at her. “Mrs. Higgins, which one is the painkiller?” She looked worried, picked me up, and checked my forehead. “What’s wrong, honey? Do you feel sick?” I shook my head obediently. “Lily isn’t sick. But Lily’s daughter is having a birthday today, and I need to send her painkillers!” Mrs. Higgins thought I was playing pretend with my dolls. She laughed. “Lily, you eat cake on birthdays, not medicine.” I slapped my forehead. Right! Birthdays need cake and candy. That way, the medicine won’t taste bitter. 2 I begged Mrs. Higgins to order a cake for me. Even though she was confused, she helped me order a cute one with a purple bunny on it. I packed two boxes of Tylenol and my secret stash of gummy bears—the ones I couldn’t bear to eat myself—into a pink gift bag. Then I called a TaskRabbit runner to deliver it to my daughter’s high school. “Dearest baby, Mommy prepared lots of gifts. Remember to eat a gummy bear after the medicine so it won’t be bitter. Happy Birthday!” After the order was complete, I messaged the delivery guy: “Sir, is my daughter okay?” The delivery guy texted back: “The girl had bruises on her arms. She looked like she’s been having a hard time. Her clothes were old and patched. She looked very pale. Poor kid.” My heart squeezed tight. What mother wouldn’t worry about her child? Later, my daughter sent me a photo of her eating the cake. “Thank you. This is the first birthday cake I’ve had since my mom died. It’s delicious. The candy is sweet too.” “It’s okay! Mommy will buy you cake for every birthday from now on!” “Thank you, Mom.” I happily opened Google and searched: How to raise a daughter. The internet said daughters need to be spoiled and given the best things in the world. I nodded wisely. My gaze drifted to my pink piggy bank. When Mommy walked into my room with a strawberry milkshake, I was smashing the pig with a toy hammer. Crash! Coins and bills scattered over the carpet like confetti. I crawled around picking them up. “This is for candy… this is for a dress… this is for new toys… and this is for Daddy, to pay him to bite the bad stepmother!” Mommy leaned against the doorframe, amused. “Lily, why did you break your favorite piggy bank? Do you want a new toy?” I hugged her leg excitedly. “Baby has a daughter now! I have to raise her!” Mommy jumped. “Where did you get a daughter?” I showed her the phone screen. “I found her myself! She has no mom and a bad stepmom bullies her.” “The internet says raising a kid is expensive. I have to work hard!” Mommy looked at me, speechless but patient. “Lily, there are bad people in the world. Not everyone loves you like Daddy and I do. It might be a scammer.” I shook my head. “No! A scammer would ask for lots of money. My daughter only asked for a painkiller.” “Her mom left her. If I, her new mom, don’t help, the bad stepmother will hurt her!” Mommy sighed. “The police will help her.” “The police can’t help everyone,” I said solemnly. “But I’m her mom. I will protect her.” Daddy walked in and dropped his briefcase. “What? Lily is a mom?” “But honey, you’re five. You can’t even tie your shoes…” “Moms don’t need to tie shoes!” I argued, tilting my head. “Moms just need to wipe tears, share candy, and…” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss both their cheeks. “And say ‘I love you’ 100 times a day!” “I know I can be a good mom!” 3 My parents couldn’t argue with my logic. They sighed. “Okay, we believe you.” “But we need to ensure your safety, so we’re going to run a background check on this girl…” I didn’t understand what that meant. But I knew my daughter was good. They would like her. That night, my daughter sent a photo. A dark, cramped attic with a thin blanket on the floor. “This is where I sleep.” I felt so sad. I took a picture of the star-shaped nightlight in my room. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll share my stars with you!” She replied: “Okay.” Then she sent a photo of a faded family portrait. A woman holding a baby. The woman had a distinct mole on her ear. I scrambled out of bed and looked in the mirror. I ran to Mommy. “Look! My ear has the same mark as her mom!” I took a picture of my ear and sent it. “My grandpa said people who leave come back with gifts. Look, my ear matches your mom!” The phone was silent for a long time. Then: “Will you stay with me? Mom.” “Of course!” I knew this wasn’t a game. I had a real daughter now. That night, Grandpa sent me a digital red envelope with money. I immediately transferred it to my daughter. She was shocked. “Why are you giving me money?” “You’re my daughter! Moms give allowance!” She returned the money immediately. “Thank you, but I can’t take it. My dad is a sailor. He sends tuition and living expenses to the school. I can eat there…” “Mom, just talk to me. That’s all I need.” My eyes got hot. My daughter was so sensible. “Okay. Tell Mommy everything.” My phone buzzed. A call! I panicked. If she hears I’m five, will she fire me as her mom? I hesitated, then answered. Rain drummed in the background. A teenager’s voice came through. “Hello. Thank you for being willing to play my mom.” I deepened my voice, but I still sounded like a chipmunk. “It’s what Mommies do!” Her voice trembled. “Thank you. Besides Ginger, you’re the only one who talks to me now.” “Who is Ginger?” “My mom’s old cat. She’s nine now. An old lady.” She sent a picture of a round orange tabby with white whiskers. “Wow! What a cute kitty! With me and the kitty, you won’t be sad anymore!” “Okay. I won’t be sad.” We talked every night. She told me about school, about the challenges of growing up. I read her fairy tales from my new books. Daddy and Mommy stood at my door, jealous. “Our daughter has a kid and ignores us old folks now.” “Lily, aren’t you sleeping with Mommy tonight?” I lifted my chin. “Mommy, my daughter’s name is Chloe. Isn’t that pretty?” “Sounds like a princess!” Daddy sighed. “Yes, yes. Your daughter is better than mine!” I pouted. “Your daughter isn’t bad either!” 4 But then, things went wrong. For three days, no calls. No texts. I had a bad feeling. Was my daughter in trouble? Just as I was panicking, a message came through: “Help me!!” I screamed, waking up my parents. “Mommy! Daddy! My daughter is in danger! We have to save her!” It was my first time at Chloe’s apartment complex. It was late, but a crowd had gathered downstairs. “Did you hear? Chloe’s stepmom tried to set her up with some old guy for marriage. Chloe refused, so the stepmom threw the cat off the balcony!” “That woman is venomous! What is the dad thinking, leaving his kid with her?” “He’s a sailor, gone all year. It’s a domestic issue, nobody interferes.” In the center of the crowd, a thin girl hugged a bleeding cat, begging for help. “Please, someone save my cat! Please!” Her voice broke my heart. A sharp-faced woman stepped out, sneering. “I told you to listen. It’s just a stupid cat!” “You want to save it? Fine! Forget the SATs. Marry that man like I said!” Chloe cried, hopeless. “Please let me go. I only have this cat… I want to take the test. I want to go to college!” The woman smirked. “College? Not up to you! I’m your guardian!” She stepped on the cat’s tail with her high heel. The cat was too weak to move. Chloe hit the woman’s leg in desperation. “Call your dad right now,” the woman hissed. “Tell him you want to get married, not study. Or the cat dies, and your future dies with it!” Chloe slumped, eyes dead. “Okay. I’ll call him.” I was furious. My precious treasure was being bullied! I broke free from my mom’s hand and charged through the crowd. I stood in front of the bad woman, hands on my hips. “What are you doing! Don’t you dare bully my daughter!” The woman laughed hysterically. “Where did this brat come from? Kid, are you crazy? I’m her mother! Her legal guardian!” “Disciplining my daughter is none of your business!” The crowd laughed at me. The bad woman stepped toward me. “Go drink some milk, kid. Don’t play hero.” Chloe looked at me, shocked. “I didn’t think… you were actually a child…” She wept. “And you actually came…” Before she could finish, the woman grabbed her. Chloe trembled. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. Please… can you take Ginger?” She handed me the bloody cat. “Thank you for coming.” I held the weak cat and started wailing. I was a useless mom. I couldn’t protect her. Suddenly, my real Mommy’s voice rang out behind me. “Mrs. Stepmother, everything you just said can be used in court. As a senior partner at Horizon Law, I suspect you of fraud and child abuse!”

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My fiancée’s protégé, Richard, loved showing off his one‑handed bomb disposal. When he actually tried it, he failed. The timer raced wildly. He dropped his tools and ran. I went in, saved the hostage, and was decorated for bravery. Richard was publicly shamed and investigated. My fiancée wanted to defend him, but I warned her: “If you speak up, you’ll lose your promotion and be torn apart online.” Under the pressure, Richard jumped to his death. His suicide note bitterly blamed her. She burned it in silence. Over the years, she rose from field officer to a legend. Then I was taken hostage. She came to disarm the bomb on my chest—one‑handed. Her eyes icy, she said, “See? It can be done with one hand.” Then she whispered, “Why did you all drive Richard to die? If I’d protected him, he’d be here, not me.” The bomb exploded. I died instantly. When I opened my eyes again, I was watching her move heaven and earth for Richard. She never knew: the hostage was the mayor’s son. 1 I woke up on the day Richard was showing off his one-handed trick. The first thing I did was turn off my phone. Then I slept until dawn. The next morning, I turned it back on. Sure enough, over a hundred missed calls. In my past life, Richard knew he’d screwed up big time and had called me in a panic, begging me to come clean up his mess. I had just gotten home after disarming three separate bombs, barely an hour of rest under my belt. But I still drove back through the pouring rain, pulling an all-nighter to defuse the device. That was the only reason the hostage’s family, Mayor Thompson himself, didn’t press charges against Richard. He got away with a slap on the wrist, an internal reprimand. If he could have just weathered the public criticism, he might have even kept his job. But my fiancée, Ava, had sheltered him his whole life. He’d never faced a real storm. The wave of public outrage was too much for him, and he chose to jump. This time, when I arrived at the scene, Richard was slumped beside the command vehicle, his face a mask of panic. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up with a flicker of hope, quickly replaced by rage. “I called you dozens of times last night! Why didn’t you answer?” he yelled, scrambling to his feet. “An officer’s phone has to be on at all times, that’s basic protocol! You knew there was a bomb call, and everyone in the department knows you’re the most experienced guy we have. And you pick last night to turn off your phone? Alex, what the hell is your game?” CRACK. My hand cracked across his face. I looked down at him, my voice dripping with ice. “Have you lost your mind, Richard?” Officers from other units, drawn by the commotion, started to gather. I raised my voice so they could all hear. “You were on duty last night, Richard. Not me.” The color drained from his face. “This is a life-or-death situation, and you’re talking about whose shift it is? You never turn your phone off, but you did yesterday? Alex, if you’ve got a problem with me, fine, but don’t take it out on the hostage!” He spun it so well, making himself sound righteous. A few of the newer guys who didn’t know the full story started whispering, probably thinking I’d deliberately bailed to let the rookie crash and burn. Before I could even respond, one of my own guys stepped in. “Shut your mouth, Richard! Do you have any idea that Alex dealt with three bombs back-to-back yesterday? He survived on two bites of a protein bar in between! You sit in an office all day while we’re out in the field. You have no clue how exhausted he is.” “He got home at one in the morning,” another added, his voice sharp with anger. “His phone was probably dead, and he passed out. What’s the problem?” Even one of Richard’s own teammates couldn’t stand it. “Let it go, Richard. It wasn’t Alex’s shift. We just got unlucky.” Richard staggered back and collapsed onto the ground, his lips trembling. “What is all this commotion!” The booming voice of the Police Chief cut through the tension. He stormed toward us, Ava at his side, her face a thundercloud. I was about to speak. But she didn’t even glance at me. She walked straight to Richard, bent down, and helped him to his feet. “Don’t be afraid,” she murmured, her voice soft and protective. “I’ll help you. You’ll be fine.” The Chief ordered the crowd to disperse. He pulled me aside, the professional calm he’d shown moments before shattering into raw panic. “Alex! I know this has nothing to do with you, but you have to disarm that bomb! That’s the mayor’s son in there! If he dies, every single one of us, from the top down, you included, is finished!” I let out a slow breath. The truth was, I only dared to turn off my phone because I knew my team could contain the situation temporarily. Even if I slept in and came later, I’d still have time. But I needed this leverage. I needed things to get this bad so I could set my terms. I looked the Chief straight in the eye. “Chief, this isn’t just on Richard. Ava is just as responsible.” He blinked, confused. I handed him a document signed by Ava. “She’s the one who officially approved Richard’s one-handed ‘technique’ for field use.” I leaned in, my voice low and firm. “We’re risking our necks to clean up their mess. Chief, I can handle the bomb. But the people responsible need to be held accountable. Both of them.” I placed my hands on the command center table. “If you don’t deal with Ava, this will happen again. And next time, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to save everyone.” The Chief’s face grew heavy. Ava was his protégé, his hand-picked successor since her days at the Academy. But with the entire department on the line, he couldn’t afford to play favorites. Besides, right now, I was the only person who could save Mayor Thompson’s son, Leo. Sensing his hesitation, I pressed harder. “The bomb has less than ten minutes on the clock. I’m about to walk in there and risk my life because of their recklessness.” His eyes widened. He slammed the file down on the table. “This is absolute madness! I trusted her, and this is how she repays me? Unbelievable!” He looked at me, his decision made. “Don’t worry. I’m rejecting her commendation for distinguished service, and her promotion application is going in the shredder. From now on, she’s on desk duty. She’s never touching a live scene again.” I nodded and signed the consent form to approach the bomb. And just like that, the glittering career path Ava had in my last life—the one that led her right to the top—was cut short. 2 With the experience from my past life, I had the bomb on Leo Thompson under control in minutes. But as I disarmed the main charge, the world went black, and I collapsed. My colleagues rushed me to the hospital. In the middle of the night, a sharp, chemical scent flooded my nostrils, and consciousness slipped away completely. I don’t know how much time passed before I managed to pry my eyes open again. My right hand was chained to a metal table, the cold iron biting into my wrist. In the dim light, I could just make out a familiar silhouette. “Ava!” The hand gripping my wrist flinched. I was tied to a chair, and I struggled with all my might. “Ava, it’s you, isn’t it? Let’s talk about this. Please, let me go! I saved Richard!” She was silent for a moment before letting out a soft, mournful sigh. “You saved him from the mayor’s wrath, Alex, but you let everyone else blame him.” “I’m sorry, Alex,” she whispered, her voice laced with a terrifying resolve. “If you really want to help him, you have to sacrifice your hand.” “As long as everyone thinks you messed up the disarming, and that Richard was the one who secretly saved the day, he can start over.” “I’ll doctor the records. I’ll handle the guys on the team. Please, Alex. Just help me this one time.” I stared at her, my mind reeling in disbelief. “Ava! Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” Suddenly, she raised a heavy metal tool. I yanked back against my restraints, a raw panic seizing me. “I’m a cop! If you cripple my hand, my career is over!” The tool paused in mid-air. The dim light caught a flicker of hesitation, of pity, in her eyes. “Don’t be afraid, Alex,” she said softly. “I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives.” “Wait!” I screamed, my voice raw. “If you do this, you’re finished too!” She shook her head gently. “Chief Miller brought me in. He won’t abandon me. I’ll still be able to wear this uniform, and I’ll always be here to protect you.” “He’s already abandoned you!” Her body went rigid, but she forced a brittle smile. “No, he wouldn’t.” CRUNCH. A scream of pure agony was torn from my throat as an explosion of pain shattered my senses. For her protégé, for Richard, she had actually done it. My right hand was completely numb. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it, couldn’t bear to imagine what was left. “It’s over now, Alex. Don’t be afraid.” She gently wrapped a towel around my mangled wrist. She even leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the ruined flesh. “I’ll always be with you,” she promised. “I swear.” “Get… out,” I gasped, the words barely forming. “Alex.” “I told you to GET THE HELL OUT!” She slowly released me and took a step back. “I’m sorry, Alex. But you’ll have to stay here until this is all over.” Her voice hardened. “Richard’s reputation can’t be destroyed.” Tears of bitter laughter streamed down my face. “You’re that afraid I’ll tell the truth?” “I’m sorry.” With that, she closed the door, plunging me into absolute darkness. My consciousness began to fray, sinking into a chaotic void. 3 The next time I woke up, it was to Ava shaking me violently. “Alex! Wake up! The bomb on Leo Thompson—it’s active again! Why is it active? You said you disarmed it!” My right arm was still a dead weight, a useless appendage that no longer felt like part of me. I looked at the frantic woman before me and let out a cold, empty laugh. “A device that complex needs follow-up, Ava. You don’t just snip one wire and call it a day.” “You!” She grabbed my arm, her nails digging in. “Why didn’t you say so before!?” Then, as if remembering something, she seized my left hand and started dragging me toward the door. “Come on! We have to go stabilize it! If we don’t, Richard’s life is over!” “Ava!” I roared, planting my feet with every ounce of strength I had left. “MY HAND IS BROKEN!” She froze. Her eyes slowly traveled down to my mangled right arm. Her pupils constricted in horror. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You can do it with one hand.” She stared into my eyes, clinging to that thought like a drowning woman to a piece of driftwood. “You’re so good at this. You can do it with one hand, right?” SMACK! This time, it was my left hand that struck her face. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. “Do you actually believe that ‘one-handed’ bullshit Richard spouts?” Her eyes lost focus. “No… Richard said it was possible,” she mumbled to herself. She suddenly grabbed my broken hand, ignoring the convulsion of pain that shot through me. “Try, Alex. Please, just try? If you don’t go, Richard is really finished!” Just then… BANG! The door exploded inward, kicked off its hinges. A tall, imposing figure stood in the doorway, his face a mask of terrifying fury. “What the hell,” Mayor Thompson growled, his voice laced with murder, “have you done to my son?” Behind him, flanked by two bodyguards, was Richard, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. My eyes found the man standing behind the mayor. “Chief.” Chief Miller’s gaze fell on my shattered right hand, and he froze, his face a picture of stunned horror. Mayor Thompson’s hand landed heavily on the Chief’s shoulder. “Are you two going to tell me what happened,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “or do I have to find out for myself?” The Chief flinched. I raised my left hand and pointed at Richard. “It was him. He insisted on trying a one-handed disarm and re-armed the trigger by mistake!” “You’re lying!” the Chief suddenly shouted, cutting me off. His eyes were wild. “It was you! You got cocky, tried to show off with the one-handed trick! When you failed, you crushed your own hand to frame Officer Richard!” I stared at him, my mind reeling. He moved closer, hissing at me under his breath. “I’m sorry, Alex. Your hand is already ruined. Richard has a bright future. The deal’s off.” The last trace of civility vanished from Mayor Thompson’s face. “Get four SUVs,” he ordered his men. “We’re going to tie this piece of trash’s limbs to them.” His eyes burned into me. “Let’s see how many pieces a man can be torn into.” His gaze flickered to my limp right arm, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Ah, I forgot. One hand is already useless.” “Tie the rope around his neck instead.” The bodyguards actually produced ropes and began tying my limbs—and my neck—to four separate SUVs. I struggled wildly, but Ava was beside me, whispering placatingly. “Just hang in there, Alex. The mayor is just trying to scare you. He won’t really hurt you.” She hadn’t even finished her sentence when Richard let out a cry of pain. Without a second thought, Ava spun around and rushed to his side. The engines roared to life. I used the last of my strength to scream, “THE PERSON WHO ENDANGERED YOUR SON ISN’T ME! I HAVE PROOF!” Mayor Thompson’s eyes narrowed. He shot his hand up. All four engines cut out instantly. He walked toward me until he was looming over me, his face inches from mine. “You have one chance.”

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After my online group discussion ended, I started discussing with my best friend how to break up with my boyfriend. “He’s too aloof, so boring.” “Talking to him is always just ‘Oh’, ‘Okay’, ‘Hmm’.” “He doesn’t even know how to kiss, so old-fashioned.” “Better break up! After 520 (May 20th, Chinese Valentine’s Day equivalent), I’ll break up with him!” My best friend was about to nod in agreement when her gaze suddenly fell on my phone screen. Then she looked up in horror: “You planned your breakup in an online meeting? Is that how you roll?” Me: ? No, the meeting was started by my boyfriend! 1 When Chloe arrived at the coffee shop, the group meeting had just ended. Only Julian and I were left in the online meeting room. I squeezed my voice until it was almost smoking, speaking coquettishly to my boyfriend: “You don’t need to come for my birthday today, I know you’re busy with your studies.” Julian was as cold as ever: “Hmm.” “Okay, take care of yourself, don’t get too tired, hang up first, baby~” Silence from Julian’s end. Phone down, Chloe kept winking at me, imitating my coquettish voice: “Take care of yourself, don’t get too tired, baby~ Hahahaha, Lin, do you like Julian that much?” My smile disappeared, expressionless and flat: “Not anymore.” “Planning to break up.” 2 Chloe almost spat out her coffee: “Damn, why? Didn’t you spend so much effort to chase him?” “Why break up after just three months?” I gritted my teeth. Five months ago, I fell in love with Julian at first sight in a large lecture hall. The boy wore a white hoodie, hair messy over his forehead, features handsome and delicate, like an unreachable flower on a high peak. One look, and I liked him. Wanted to pluck him. So, approached, asked for contact info, asked for a date, met up… All in one go. Julian was colder than I imagined. He had excellent grades, top of his major, but didn’t like to talk. He rarely picked up my topics or jokes. Basically just a few words: “Hmm.” “Okay.” “Interesting.” … Chased for a full two months, just when I suspected if the person opposite was an AI chat bot or a fake person, ready to give up. February 14th, Valentine’s Day, I didn’t contact him all day. He suddenly sent a message: [Are you angry?] 3 Nonsense. A screen full of “hmm hmm ah hey”, would any girl not be angry? I was too lazy to deal with it anymore, so I just replied: “Today is Valentine’s Day, only my boyfriend can ask about my emotions.” After sending this, I went to sleep. After all, compared to the probability of this cold man replying to me, I believed more that he would delete me with one click. That person… Seems to have no emotions. But, when I got up the next morning, I saw a brand new message. Also the longest message Julian had ever sent me: [Then, can I be your boyfriend?] 4 Ideally. The story should end here. But, in the coffee shop, I slammed my phone down angrily, complaining to Chloe indignantly: “Together for three months, I haven’t even gotten a kiss!” “Every day he only knows about internships and doing problems, apart from internships it’s doing problems.” “Now it’s great, he even forgot my birthday.” “Tell me what use is this boyfriend to me?” “Might as well throw him away to save worry.” Seeing but not eating is even more uncomfortable. Chloe blinked, also a bit shocked: “Is he… impotent?” “Heard if a person is too overworked, that aspect will, um,” Chloe pursed her lips, “their major is so busy, probably tired out.” As soon as the words fell, a heavy breathing sound seemed to suddenly come from the silent coffee shop. I blinked, who’s panting? Looked left and right, no one. I didn’t care, continued to gossip about Julian with Chloe: “Ghost knows if he can do it or not, he won’t let me kiss or touch, can’t see him every day.” “Talking is boring too, apart from telling me to study hard, always popping words out one by one, I’m really going crazy.” “I want to break up! Firmly break up!”

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My childhood best friend gave me the cold shoulder, intentionally getting closer to the new transfer student. Just then, I saw the floating comments: [The female lead doesn’t know, the male lead is just jealous of her and the school bad boy! Go comfort him, and he’ll come back!] [He just wants you to feel how much it hurts when he sees you with the bad boy.] [Exactly, our female lead is a 36D soft beauty, the male lead loves her to death.] I paused, ready to explain my relationship with the bad boy to my childhood friend. But then I saw him passionately kissing the transfer student. The comments appeared again: [Female lead, just apologize! He’ll come back.] I didn’t interrupt. I turned around and went to tell the teacher, reporting students for dating. 1 Through the floating comments, I learned I was living in a campus romance novel. I am the female lead, and the male lead is my childhood friend, Lucas. He deliberately distanced himself from me and got closer to the transfer student, Chloe, just because he was jealous? I was stunned for a moment, then came to my senses, deciding to explain my relationship with the school bad boy, Damon, to Lucas. That day, I just saw Damon fall and get hurt, so I helped him to the nurse’s office. After school, I saw Lucas heading towards the roof. I jogged up to the roof. When I opened the door. I saw Lucas and Chloe kissing. Lucas slightly lowered his head, letting Chloe hook her arms around his neck and kiss his lips. I froze in place. At this moment, the comments scrolled frantically. [Female lead, don’t misunderstand, the side female character must have seduced him, the male lead just didn’t react in time.] [Kissing for this long and still hasn’t reacted?] [The male lead only did this because he saw the bad boy running to the female lead every day. He just wanted to make her angry.] [Our female lead is a 36D soft beauty, the male lead loves her to death.] [Female lead, just go apologize, won’t the male lead forgive you?] I clenched my fists, my heart aching with a dull pain. I didn’t disturb them, turned around, and left. I went to the homeroom teacher’s office. “Mr. Brown, I just saw two people kissing on the roof.” After saying that, I returned to the classroom to do my cleaning duty. A moment later, Lucas stormed back in. Chloe followed behind him. Lucas walked up to me at some point and snatched the broom from my hand. He looked down at me, his dark eyes revealing a trace of chill: “Did you tell the teacher?” I looked up at him: “So what if I did?” Chloe walked up to me from behind him: “So it was you, Cow? Only you could do something disgusting like tattling.” She linked arms with Lucas, looking at him with a coquettish tone: “I told you, your little childhood friend isn’t anything good. You even scolded me for her before.” After saying that, she huffed. Chloe smiled and looked at my chest: “Cow, why aren’t you wearing your binder today? Who are you trying to seduce?” My temples throbbed with anger. “Cow” was the nickname she gave me. She saw me running in gym class, then got a big group of boys to watch me. They stared at me, laughing. I frowned. Checking myself up and down to see what was so funny. Seeing my panic, they laughed even happier. Lucas suddenly appeared. We were in a cold war then. He hadn’t spoken to me for days. Chloe walked up to him, stood on tiptoe, and whispered something in his ear. He revealed a faint smile. Then he looked at me coldly. Later, the nickname “Cow” spread throughout the class. Even if I wore a binder, whenever I ran, people around me would still laugh and call me Cow. 2 Anger piled up. I lost control and rushed at Chloe. We pulled each other’s hair. Lucas forcefully pulled me away: “Jane, are you crazy? You do something disgusting and still think you’re right?” He clearly protected Chloe, prying my hands from her hair, but Chloe’s hands were still firmly gripping mine. My nose stung, and my body lost strength. Pushed by him, I fell to the ground. Tears welled up in my eyes. But I didn’t want to cry in front of them. So I got up, held back my tears, and walked away quickly. The comments appeared again. [The side female character is so disgusting, and the male lead is protecting her?] [But the female lead started it. The male lead wasn’t protecting anyone, just trying to separate them.] [Did you see how heartbroken the male lead looked when he accidentally pushed the female lead to the ground?] [Exactly, the male lead looked at the female lead’s back with so much pain when she left.] Out of the classroom, tears burst forth. Grievance and anger mixed together. Heart-piercing pain. My mom saw me crying on my way home. She followed me asking what happened. I didn’t answer; I really needed to be alone for a while. I ran back to my room and locked myself in. My mom knocked on the door, then left. I didn’t know how long I cried. I got up and found old photos. I tore up all the photos with Lucas and threw them in the trash. Only this way could I feel a brief relief in my heart. But as I tore them, I suddenly realized that photos with Lucas occupied almost all the photos of my dozen years. My heart twitched with pain again. Lucas wasn’t like this before. My mom and Lucas’s mom were best friends. Our homes were close, so Lucas and I were inseparable growing up. We were in each other’s lives for over a decade. Yet we reached this point. A knock on the door, Lucas’s voice. “Dinner’s ready, come out.” His parents were away Monday to Wednesday, so he ate at my house. I didn’t answer, put on headphones. The comments appeared again. [The male lead just can’t put aside his pride, he’s already showing weakness to you.] [Female lead, just go out and explain to him, he can dump the side character immediately.] [Don’t fight anymore, the male lead has only ever had you in his heart.] [The female lead is so stubborn.] [Sigh, the male lead left in anger.] 3 Next day at school. My mom prepared two breakfasts as usual. I only took one. My mom called me: “You forgot Lucas’s portion.” She handed me the breakfast: “Did you fight with Lucas? You never fought when you were little, why fight now that you’re grown up? Talk it out, everything will be fine.” “Can’t talk it out!” I turned and left. Arriving in class. My seat was next to Lucas. I returned to my seat; Lucas frowned at me, huffed lightly, and turned away. Chloe sat in front of Lucas. She turned around and looked at him: “Cow didn’t bring us breakfast today.” During the cold war before, I still brought breakfast for Lucas every day. But he didn’t eat it; he gave it all to Chloe. Lucas sneered: “Who wants her to bring it? I wouldn’t eat it even if she did.” The comments appeared again. [Male lead, keep being stubborn. Your face fell the moment you saw she didn’t bring breakfast.] [Female lead, give him the breakfast, he’ll be secretly happy.] [Female lead, just apologize, the male lead will ditch the side character immediately.] Why should I apologize? And I didn’t plan on having anything to do with him anymore. I ate my breakfast. Next to me, Lucas suddenly stood up. Loudly. Classmates looked over. Lucas stormed out of the classroom angrily. Seeing this, Chloe jogged after him. They only came back when the bell rang. Chloe’s lips were a bit swollen, her face flushed. Lucas deliberately looked at me, a faint smile curling his lips. He seemed certain I would be jealous. But I wasn’t. Just felt a bit nauseous. Just a week before the cold war. My parents and his parents went on business trips at the same time. He came to stay in our guest room to keep me company. That night, we finished homework and watched TV in the living room. The TV happened to show a kissing scene. I was a bit shy, looking around pretending not to know. He laughed: “It’s just kissing, is it that big a deal?” I looked at him: “Have you kissed?” He looked at me, his dark eyes revealing a burning love. He inherited his parents’ good looks perfectly, quite handsome. “About to kiss.” He suddenly leaned in, gently kissing my lips. Breaths mingled. From clumsy at first to gradually proficient. I was immersed in this sweet and beautiful first kiss. But now. That first kiss that once made my heart race countless times. Made me incredibly nauseous. 4 After school, Damon came to find me again. He held a watermelon juice, handing it to me. I glanced at the juice, then at him: “Anyone falling on the ground at that time, I would have chosen to help them to the nurse’s office. Don’t come looking for me again.” Damon’s beautiful peach blossom eyes dimmed instantly, but fleetingly: “I didn’t come to thank you. I like you, I came to pursue you.” His directness stunned me a bit. I almost fled, walking away quickly, but Damon followed. He didn’t come closer, just followed behind. I didn’t stop until I reached my door, turned to look at him, panting: “Why are you following me?” He extended his hand, holding my bear charm: “You dropped something. I wanted to catch up and return it, but the faster I went, the faster you went.” I was speechless, taking my bear charm: “Couldn’t you call me?” He smiled: “I wanted to see when you’d turn around and acknowledge me.” I glared at him, about to hang the bear back, then realized this charm seemed to be a fourteenth birthday gift from Lucas. I paused, then threw it into the trash can at my door. Looking up, I unexpectedly met Lucas’s dark eyes. He stood at my door, anger radiating from his eyes, cool voice suppressing rage: “Threw it away?” “Yes. Everything of yours, I’m throwing away.” His back teeth clenched tight: “You better not regret it!” Damon chuckled behind me. Lucas looked at Damon, eyes fierce, as if wanting to tear the person in front of him apart. Damon said lazily: “What are you looking at? Want to fight? Come on.” Lucas laughed in anger: “I won’t lower myself to fight someone like you.” Saying that, he looked at me through gritted teeth: “Just you wait.” He turned sideways and left directly between Damon and me. Damon pouted, looking at me with a grin: “If we fought, who would you help?” “I’d help call the police.” As soon as I entered, my mom asked: “Where’s Lucas? Wasn’t he waiting for you at the door?” “Mom, don’t let Lucas come to our house anymore.” My mom froze: “Why? What happened between you two?” My nose stung: “He… he…” I really didn’t know how to express it. My mom patted my head: “Mom knows. You’re grown up, people change. Mom won’t call him over for dinner anymore.” I felt bitter. Lucas became a complete stranger to me. Our relationship deteriorated to a point of no return. The comments scrolled again. [The male lead is about to die of anger. Now he’s at home throwing away all the gifts the female lead gave him.] [The female lead is too cruel, can’t she just apologize?] [When will this fight end? Isn’t this book a sweet childhood friends romance? Not sweet at all!] [Actually, there’s sugar in the glass shards. The male lead just threw away the gift from the female lead, then sheepishly picked it back up and wiped it clean. The male lead really has a sharp tongue but a soft heart.]

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1 To cure me of my possessiveness, my girlfriend replaced me—the groom—on our wedding day. Immediately after the ceremony, she jetted off to the Maldives for a honeymoon with her first love. When she came back, she found a new, more compliant version of me. She would flaunt her intimacy with him, but I no longer showed any signs of jealousy. When she broke all the rules to cast him, a mere social media influencer, as the lead in her new film, I didn’t object. I even handed over my own shot at the Best Actor award without a fight. When he publicly slandered me, I just apologized obediently and silently endured the onslaught of online hate. She bragged about her successful “training” on a live stream, tossing me a cheap ring like a bone to a dog. “Wear this for the rest of your life,” she’d said. “Consider this ring compensation for what happened at the wedding. But as long as you behave, you’ll still be the one I legally marry.” I was genuinely confused. “But… aren’t you already married?” She seemed to have forgotten that the contract termination had already been signed. I had already let her go. In three days, I would be on a plane, heading towards an arranged marriage of my own. From that moment on, our lives would be nothing more than two parallel lines, never to cross again. … My question made her hand freeze. Her expression instantly turned to ice. “What do you mean by that? Don’t you know why I married Adrian? If you hadn’t deliberately flaunted our wedding in his face, driving him to the brink of suicide, do you think I would have married him just to make it up to him?” At our wedding, Adrian had held a knife to his throat, threatening to jump from the roof unless she made him the groom. Afterward, as my punishment, she’d personally taken him on what was supposed to be our honeymoon. I had been a wreck. I drank, I smoked, I stared at the ceiling all night. But now, clarity had finally settled in. The truth was, our relationship had started cracking a year ago, the moment Adrian returned to the country. It began with innocent lunches, then escalated to blatant movie dates, and eventually, nights when she wouldn’t come home at all. Every time I confronted her, she would snap, accusing me of being too possessive. So, to “cure” me, she deliberately grew closer to him. She even told the press that Adrian was the man she had dreamed of for years, and I was just a passing amusement. The wedding was the final, brutal lesson. Adrian was her first love, the one who got away. I could never compete with a ghost. So I decided to give up. On her, and on our ten years together. Faced with her aggressive questioning now, the old me would have desperately tried to explain that I hadn’t flaunted anything, that Adrian had lied to sabotage the wedding. But the new me just obediently took the blame. “You’re right. It was all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked.” It was my fault. My fault for wanting a wedding that was never mine to have. My fault for hoping I held any place in her heart at all. At least I’d learned my lesson before it was too late. My admission seemed to satisfy her. She nodded, pleased. “Well, as long as you understand. Wear this ring. Don’t take it off without my permission. As for the marriage license, we’ll get it next month.” I looked at the plain, cheap ring she held out. It was a freebie she’d gotten when she bought Adrian an outrageously expensive watch. It was worthless. But I obediently slipped it on. As for the marriage license, that would never happen. To me, she was now just the CEO of my agency. In three days, my ten-year contract would expire, and I would leave this life behind for the one my parents had arranged for me. After that, Cassandra and I would be nothing to each other. Seeing me put on the ring, Adrian, who had been standing nearby, grinned. “See, Cassandra? I told you. Men just need a little training. Look how well-behaved Evan is now! He hangs on your every word. The ‘abandoned pet’ effect works every time. He’s completely dependent on you now.” A self-satisfied smile played on Cassandra’s lips. She turned back to me with another order. “The Rising Star Awards are this afternoon. You’ll go with Adrian as his assistant. You have more experience, so make sure you take good care of him.” Even though I had already let her go, the words still twisted in my gut. This was the last award I needed to complete my grand slam, to achieve my lifelong dream of being recognized as one of the greatest actors of my generation. But a few weeks ago, just because Adrian had casually mentioned wanting to be an actor, Cassandra had forced me to give up my nomination for him. And now she wanted me to watch him accept my award, as his assistant. She knew how much this meant to me. And she had snatched it away without a second thought. A dull ache throbbed in my chest, but I agreed. This would be the final act, the closing punctuation on our eight years together. After this, we would owe each other nothing. The awards ceremony was already crowded with the biggest names in the industry. Adrian’s eyes lit up. He grabbed a glass of champagne and tried to schmooze, but the A-listers barely gave him the time of day. After being snubbed several times, his face paled with fury. He turned and snapped at me, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Are you blind? You know I’m allergic to alcohol! Get over here and drink this for me.” He tilted his chin up, trying to reclaim some of the status he’d just lost. I was about to refuse when his expression changed dramatically. His face crumpled as if he were about to cry. “Cassandra,” he whimpered, looking over my shoulder. “You’re not here, and everyone is bullying me. Even Evan is looking down on me.” I turned. Cassandra, the event’s host and a celebrated actress in her own right, was standing right behind me. She was usually protective of my public image, but the look on her face told me that tonight was different. “Evan,” she said, her voice dripping with ice. “I told you to be his assistant. Does that role not include taking a drink for him? Do I need to spell it out for you?” The weight of everyone’s stares was physically painful. I clenched my fists, took the glass, and drained it in one gulp. Cassandra finally looked satisfied. She took Adrian by the arm and began personally introducing him to the industry giants. Suddenly, the crowd was full of fawning voices, and Adrian puffed out his chest like a victorious rooster. A little later, he sauntered over to me. “So what if you’re a famous actor?” he whispered, a smug smile on his face. “You’re still just my little puppet.” He leaned in, then raised his voice for others to hear. “Evan, my shoes are dirty. Be a dear and clean them for me.” I felt my patience fray. He saw my clenched fists and just laughed. “Oh, Evan, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice oozing false apology. “I didn’t mean to trouble you. It’s just this suit… I can’t risk wrinkling it.” Cassandra chimed in. “He’s right. The suit has to be perfect for the cameras.” She gave me a look that was a clear command. When I didn’t move, her brow furrowed. “Well? Are you going to clean them or not? Don’t forget your place. You’re just an assistant.” Rage simmered beneath my skin. I took a deep breath. Just a few more days. I knelt down and took out a wipe. Just as I was about to touch his shoe, the announcer called his name. Adrian brushed imaginary dust off his lapels, gave a gracious bow to the audience, and then, as he walked past, deliberately stomped on my hand on his way to the stage. Pain shot up my arm. Cassandra just nudged me with her foot. “The speech! Are you an idiot? Get the speech to him!” I scrambled to my feet, my hand throbbing, and rushed after him. As I reached out to hand him the cards, he suddenly stumbled and went tumbling down the stage steps. Cameras flashed wildly. I reached out to help him, but he shoved my hand away, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Evan! I know you’re jealous that I got the award, but I earned it! How could you try to humiliate me in front of everyone like this?” Whispers erupted around us. The cameras turned on me. “I didn’t,” I said calmly. “You pushed me! Everyone saw it!” People nearby started murmuring their agreement. “I didn’t push him,” I tried to explain. “I was handing him the speech.” But no one believed me. Adrian looked up, tears welling in his eyes, but in the split second before he looked away, he shot me a triumphant smirk. I had been framed. His knee was bleeding, but he struggled to his feet, putting on a brave face that earned him the sympathy of the entire room. “I can’t believe Evan would do something so petty,” someone whispered. Cassandra rushed to Adrian’s side. When she saw his bleeding knee, she turned and slapped me hard across the face. “Evan, you’ve gone too far! Look what you’ve done! Don’t you know he has a photoshoot in a few days? How could you be so malicious?” The cameras flashed, capturing my swollen cheek. I wanted to disappear. “Apologize to him right now,” she seethed, “or you’ll regret it.” Adrian looked at me, a smug, victorious glint in his eyes. I took a deep breath and looked straight at Cassandra. “Apologize to a talentless, social media hack? I’d rather not.” I turned and walked away, leaving them both sputtering in rage. Just as they’d planned, I became the villain of the story. The incident was the top trending topic online. Everyone called me bitter and vindictive. Cassandra even used my official account to issue a public apology, cementing the lie. The next day, she called an emergency board meeting. “Due to Evan’s deliberate actions, which have caused significant damage to the company’s reputation, I am revoking his position as Vice President and appointing Adrian in his place.” The board members, men I had personally mentored, all nodded in agreement. “Evan is getting older,” one of them said. “We need fresh blood. I support the change.” Cassandra looked at me, her eyes cold. “The board has voted unanimously. Do you have anything to say?” What could I say? This company was our baby. We had built it from the ashes after her family went bankrupt. And now, they were kicking me out. It didn’t matter. In a few days, I would be gone. “I have nothing to say.” My quiet acceptance seemed to unnerve them. They had been prepared for a fight. Adrian’s first act as VP was to reassign all of my upcoming projects to himself. I was officially suspended. That night, Cassandra came home. She saw me standing on the balcony and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something like pain in her eyes. She had brought me takeout from a restaurant I’d always wanted to try but could never get a reservation for. The old me would have been thrilled. But I knew her kindness always came at a price. “Adrian really likes your limited edition Bentley,” she said, her voice hesitant. “Could you give it to him? He has a lot of appearances coming up, and it would be more comfortable for him.” The car was the only gift she had ever given me, and only after I’d earned the company a billion dollars on my last film. At the time, she’d called me materialistic for even asking. “Fine,” I said. She frowned. “Why are you acting like a robot? All you do is nod.” I almost laughed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” She came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I know I’ve been hard on you. But once we get our marriage license, I’ll take you on a proper honeymoon. Should we bring Adrian along?” It was the first time she had ever asked for my opinion. “Whatever you want,” I said. Her body stiffened. “I wanted you to be less possessive, not to stop caring completely! If you keep this up, I’m not marrying you!” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. When I cared, she called me controlling. When I let go, she accused me of not caring. I didn’t see her for the next few days. On the day my contract expired, I went to the office to sign my termination papers. The HR department processed it quickly. All it needed was Cassandra’s final approval. Just as I was about to message her, a text from her came through with an address, telling me to pick her up. It was a remote film set deep in the mountains. I didn’t want to go, but I needed her signature. When I arrived, the place was deserted. Then Adrian appeared, flanked by a group of menacing-looking men. “Where’s Cassandra?” I asked. He smirked, rubbing his neck, revealing a collection of fresh hickeys. “She’s sleeping. Worn out.” The text had been from him. His eyes turned cold. “Everyone’s saying my award was fixed. I bet you’re the one spreading those rumors.” “I don’t need to,” I said. “Anyone with eyes can see you didn’t earn it.” “It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Because after today, you’ll never be an actor again. And I will take your place.” He gestured to his men. They grabbed me, slamming me to the ground. I managed to kick one of them away, but another one immediately took his place, smashing my head against the concrete until my vision blurred. Adrian loomed over me, planting his foot on my head. “You’re a threat to my career. Cassandra can only protect me so much. The only way I’ll feel truly safe is if you’re completely destroyed.” He pulled out a knife. I realized what he was about to do just as the cold steel sliced across my cheek. I screamed, but they held me down. The tears streaming down my face stung the open wound. One cut. Two. I counted twelve in total. Then he told his men to proceed with the plan. They doused the set in gasoline. As they were leaving, Adrian called Cassandra, his voice a high-pitched, terrified shriek. “Cassandra, help me! Evan is trying to kill me!” He calmly lit a cigarette and tossed the still-lit lighter onto the gasoline-soaked floor. The world exploded in flames. Cassandra arrived just as the fire was engulfing the building. She ran inside, her face a mask of terror. She saw me lying on the floor, my face covered in blood, and for a second, she reached for me. Then Adrian let out a weak cry from the other side of the room. “Cassandra, you’re here! Help me!” She hesitated, then let go of me and ran to him. I watched as she struggled to lift him—he was only pretending to be injured—and carried him out of the inferno. “Help me…” I whispered, my hand outstretched. She paused at the door, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. “I’ve called the fire department, Evan! Just hang on!” Then she was gone. I woke up in the hospital. The only person there was the head of HR. He handed me my signed termination papers and left without a word. I was in the hospital for a month. Cassandra never visited. When I was finally discharged, I went back to my house, the one I had bought years ago with my own money. It had been transformed into a newlywed’s nest for her and Adrian. Red sheets, celebratory banners, and their wedding photos were everywhere. The moment she saw me, her face contorted in a snarl of rage. “How dare you come back here? You tried to kill Adrian! Do you have any idea what you’ve put him through? His depression has relapsed because of you!” She raised her hand to slap me, but stopped when she saw my face. There was no unmarked skin left to hit. Adrian just smirked. “It’s okay, Cassandra. I forgive him. His face is ruined, but he’d make a decent body double. It’s not like they need to show his face.” I looked at his smug, treacherous face, and years of suppressed anger finally boiled over. “A body double for you? I’d rather die.” Cassandra clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Evan, stop being so dramatic. Your face is ruined. What else can you do?” She looked at the horrific scars, and for a split second, I saw that flicker of pain in her eyes again. “Look, I know you’re mad that I didn’t save you from the fire. But it was your own fault for trying to hurt Adrian. You brought this on yourself. But,” she continued, “if you agree to be his body double, I’ll marry you tomorrow. We can even go on a honeymoon. But we’ll have to bring Adrian. I don’t trust him to be alone.” She had it all planned out. But it had nothing to do with me anymore. I held up the termination papers. “You’re already married. You should go on a honeymoon. But why are you inviting me?” “I’m getting married, too. To someone else. And my fiancée is waiting for me abroad.” “Also,” I added, “this is my house. I’ve sold it. You need to leave.”

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After the divorce, I found a diary at home. It was the one Aiden Blackwood had shoved into my hands back in high school. It was filled with trivial little things about my day-to-day life. We were so young then, so perfectly in sync, never imagining that ten years later we’d be tearing each other to shreds. I picked up a pen and wrote: “Carol, don’t fall in love with Aiden Blackwood.” Suddenly, new words bloomed on the page. “Who are you? What gives you the right to say that!” It was the handwriting of seventeen-year-old Aiden. 1 The hand holding the pen hovered in midair, my mind a complete blank. The tears that had been streaming down my face a second ago stopped. A cold wind swept across my tear-streaked cheeks, the icy touch yanking me back to reality. I stared at the diary, my hand trembling as I wrote. “Are you the seventeen-year-old Aiden?” An instant reply. “My name’s Aiden Blackwood, and I don’t change it for anyone. Now what kind of freak are you, and why would you say that!?” Shock and disbelief warred within me. I took several deep breaths before my shaking hand steadied. I wiped my eyes and wrote slowly, deliberately: “You will make her miserable.” He immediately crossed out my words and wrote with absolute certainty: “I will only ever love Carol! I could never hurt her!” Reading those words, I felt a bitter laugh bubble up inside me. “Only love Carol? Is that why, ten years from now, you’ll cheat on her with her best friend?” “Never hurt her? Is that why, ten years from now, you’ll force her into a divorce?” “Aiden Blackwood, stay away from her.” The words that had been furiously appearing on the page finally stopped. I closed the diary and let out a long, shuddering breath. 2 There were once two incredibly important people in my world. One was Lila Miller, my best friend, who transferred to our school in our senior year. At the time, she was living with her grandmother, a woman who made no secret of her preference for grandsons. Lila was withdrawn, introverted, and painfully shy. I was the one who pulled her into my circle, forcibly inserting her into the rest of my life. The other was Aiden Blackwood. To this day, I remember the day after our high school graduation. He stood in the ivy-covered walkway, handed me the diary with a look like he was facing a firing squad, and said, the tips of his ears bright red: “Carol, will you be my girlfriend?” The sun was perfect that day. We were surrounded by a crowd of cheering classmates. Lila was among them, her arm linked with mine, smiling even wider than I was. After that, Aiden and I started dating, and eventually, we got married. It all felt so natural. I truly believed it would be forever. Until the day I saw him at the hospital with Lila for her prenatal check-up. The ginkgo leaves had blanketed the streets in gold that day. Aiden had told me early that morning he was going upstate for a business trip. I, on the other hand, had gone to the hospital on the north side of town for a blood test because of a persistent low-grade fever and nausea. I saw them the moment I walked out of the lab. Aiden, his arm wrapped intimately around Lila’s waist, stood by the entrance to the obstetrics department. A nurse called out, “Lila Miller, 12-week prenatal report.” My brain, fogged by the flu, couldn’t process the overload of information. I even started making excuses for them. When Aiden saw me, he snatched his hand back. Lila quickly hid behind him. “What are you doing here?” he asked. As if I hadn’t told him that very morning I was so sick I had to go to the hospital. I wanted to smile and ask them what was going on, but my lips wouldn’t move. Tears instantly welled up in Lila’s eyes. She said nothing, just clung to Aiden’s hand. I suddenly remembered the earrings—the ones I had given her—that I’d found in our bed a few months ago. I remembered Aiden’s explanation: “She fell asleep while waiting for you.” And Lila’s excuse: “I wanted to surprise you, but I nodded off.” And I, like an idiot, had lived in the web of lies they wove around me. I fought to stay calm, but my voice trembled as I demanded to know when it had started. They didn’t answer. Aiden just shielded Lila, his voice cold and flat. “Carol, don’t make a scene.” A scene? I reached out, trying to pull Lila out from behind him. I wanted to ask her why. I needed an answer. Lila clutched her stomach, struggling and crying out in fear. Aiden grabbed my hand, prying my fingers off Lila’s arm, one by one, his knuckles white with effort. All my pent-up grief and anger exploded in that moment, burning my reason to ash. I raised my hand, blind with rage. But I never touched Lila. Aiden shoved me, hard. I lost my balance and nearly fell to the ground. A crowd gathered around us, just like the day he’d asked me out. Through the ringing in my ears, I finally heard Lila’s sobs. “Carol, I’m so sorry… but we’re really in love… I just want to keep this baby…” My head was spinning, a deafening buzz drowning out everything else. I could barely stand. Aiden carefully helped Lila up, then turned to me, his voice calm. “Just look at the state you’re in.” “Carol, what do you have that she doesn’t?” I stared at him, watching him protect another woman. The fire inside me suddenly went out, leaving only a cold, dead emptiness. The sun began to set, the sky darkening around us. Looking at the closed diary, I subconsciously rested a hand on my stomach. There was a baby here. A baby I had been so excited for. Aiden’s baby. I had imagined his reaction to the news a thousand times. But on the day it was finally real, he was celebrating another child. 3 I tossed the diary into a corner of my desk, determined not to touch it again. But the next day, my chunky ginger cat knocked it to the floor. I meant to just put it back, but once it was in my hands, I opened it, as if compelled by some unseen force. In just one day, the pages were filled with blue ink. After all the frantic arguments, there was a new, determined line: “I’ll prove it to you!” From that point on, the diary became a chronicle of Aiden’s day-to-day courtship. He wrote about the mechanical pencil we’d traded ten years ago, the carton of strawberry milk he’d secretly left in my desk, the smiles I had given him over the years. Every line overflowed with a joy he couldn’t contain, as if his entire world was filled with ‘Carol’. A decade of memories flooded back with his words, a tight knot forming in my chest. I grabbed a pen and, with a kind of self-destructive malice, refuted every single one. The other side was silent for a long time before new words appeared. “You’re not her. How would you know?” I gripped the pen, my knuckles white. The words “I am Carol” refused to form on the page. Frustrated, I decided to disguise myself as a ‘System’, even revealing a few of his well-kept secrets to sell the act. He was stunned. After a long pause, he asked in a pleading tone: “So… Mr. System, can you tell me what flavor of milk Carol likes?” Looking at his cautious question, I suddenly understood. In this diary, I didn’t have to be the 27-year-old Carol. I could set aside my current pain and bitterness. I just had to be an observer called the ‘System’, watching his secret crush unfold from a god’s-eye view. And just like that, I became seventeen-year-old Aiden’s “Dating System.” Every day was filled with endless happy things to say and see. Opening the diary became the thing I looked forward to most. Until one day, he suddenly told me: “System, I just told Carol about you, and she doesn’t believe me!” The moment the last stroke of his writing appeared, a strange yet familiar memory surfaced in my mind. Sophomore year, Aiden had run up to me, his eyes wide with conspiracy. “I found a diary that lets me talk to a ‘System from the future’.” My fingers traced the words in the diary. I clung to them like a lifeline. An idea began to grow wildly in my mind—this diary could change the past! If it could really change the past, couldn’t it change this miserable present? What if I had never approached Lila? What if we had never become friends? Would Aiden still be the same boy from seventeen, who loved me and only me? Would our child still have a father who loved him? The hand holding the pen trembled uncontrollably. There was only one thought in my head: I had to test it. “There’s a hair clip shaped like a ginkgo leaf at the corner store. Carol really likes it.” I scribbled the words, the pen tip tearing the paper. “Tell her to keep it safe.” Almost instantly, the ginkgo leaf hair clip appeared on my desk. A large blank space appeared in the diary. One memory began to fade rapidly as a new, vivid one rushed in to take its place. A sunny afternoon. Aiden, drenched in sweat, ran up to me, holding the hair clip, his eyes shining. He said, “This! You have to keep it safe!” I slumped over my desk, laughing and crying at the same time. There was still time. Everything could still be fixed. 4 I started conducting more dangerous experiments. I had the Aiden from ten years ago give me small, insignificant things. A bag of fruit-flavored hard candies appeared in the early summer of my sophomore year. A small eraser, carved into the shape of a cat, lay in my pencil case during midterms that fall. Using my own memories as anchors, I began to map out the rules of time and space governed by this diary. My life, however, remained exactly the same. As the time in the diary approached the end of my sophomore year, the final week of my real-life divorce cooling-off period began. I looked at the pregnancy test report on my desk and finally sent Aiden a message: “Saturday, 2 PM. The usual café. We need to talk.” He replied with a curt, “Okay.” I stared at his profile picture. The photo I had taken of ginkgo leaves was gone, replaced by a stretched-out silhouette of him and Lila leaning against each other. In the diary, an oblivious seventeen-year-old Aiden was still writing excitedly: “Carol came to watch my game today! She even remembered to bring me water! Do you think she might like me a little bit too?” I silently closed the chat window. On Saturday, a light rain began to fall. I sat in our usual spot and opened the diary to chat with the eighteen-year-old Aiden. “System, I had a dream last night that Carol and I had a baby! I was so happy! I hope it’s a girl, so she can look just like her, with dimples when she smiles. But a boy would be fine too…” Reading his words, I touched my stomach and couldn’t help but smile. The real Aiden was half an hour late. When he arrived, he looked tired and annoyed. “What…?” He didn’t finish his sentence. His eyes locked onto the diary in my hands, and he even reached for it. I quickly put the diary in my bag and took out the pregnancy report, pushing it towards him. “I thought you should know about this.” His gaze was still fixed on my bag as he distractedly took the report. “Aiden!” Lila burst out of nowhere, snatched the report from his hand, and tore it to shreds. She was wearing the loungewear I’d given her last year, her belly swollen. The rain had plastered her hair to her face, making her look like an abandoned victim. “You promised you wouldn’t see her again!” she screamed, crying. Aiden immediately stood up to comfort her, not even bothering to look at what I had given him. But Lila kept crying, her sobs wracking her body. She pointed an accusing finger at me. “Carol, you have everything… a perfect family, a perfect life… What about me? My family said I was useless! A disgrace!” Her voice suddenly rose to a shriek. “Aiden was the first person to ever tell me, ‘I’ll protect you.’ You already have so much, why can’t you just let me have him?!” The commotion drew the attention of everyone in the café. I could hear their whispers. Then, as if she’d gone mad, she ran to the edge of the café’s balcony and yelled at me. “Carol! Promise me! Promise you’ll never see him again for the rest of your life! Or I’ll jump!” Everyone was looking at me, including Aiden. “Carol,” Aiden said, “talk her down. Isn’t she your best friend?” Someone in the crowd muttered, “Wow, the mistress is actually pushing the wife to this…” A profound sense of absurdity washed over me. “You want me, your legal wife, to go and talk down your mistress?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it broke on the last word. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Lila scrambled onto the railing, half her body hanging over the edge. We were on the second floor. Aiden grabbed my arm and started dragging me violently towards the balcony. I struggled, but I couldn’t break free. His voice was hoarse. “Just this once. I’m begging you. Get Lila back over here and tell her to her face that we’ll never see each other again!” But as he pushed me closer, Lila suddenly reached out and yanked me forward with all her strength. Caught off guard, my stomach slammed hard against the balcony railing. She seemed to be cursing at me, but I couldn’t hear a thing. An excruciating pain overwhelmed everything. I collapsed, curling into a ball on the ground. In my peripheral vision, I saw Aiden pull Lila back into his arms, frantically checking if she was hurt. “Blood!” someone in the crowd shrieked. I looked down. Blood was seeping from between my legs, staining my clothes. Aiden looked over, his face instantly turning a deathly white. I remembered then. I had come here today to tell Aiden. We were having a baby. 5 I sat on the hospital bed, staring out the window. The feeling of being hollowed out and the physical pain were a constant reminder. The baby was gone. The ginkgo leaves outside the window glistened in the rain. I remembered junior year, when Aiden had stood under that huge ginkgo tree, holding up two leaves to make a golden “leaf butterfly” to make me smile. He had said, “I swear, I’ll never make Carol cry again!” But the Aiden standing at the foot of my bed now just looked exhausted. “Lila has been emotionally unstable since she got pregnant. Her grandmother found out she was pregnant out of wedlock and called her a disgrace, wouldn’t even let her in the house… Don’t blame her…” A massive, heavy weight of grief crushed my chest, making it hard to breathe. I grabbed my bag and threw it at him with all my might. “She killed my baby! She’s a murderer!” He didn’t move, letting the bag hit him squarely, its contents spilling onto the floor. Including the diary. The other people in the room had quietly slipped out. In the dead silence, he picked up the diary and asked softly, “Are you the System?” I froze. The grief and rage were pushed aside, replaced by a dizzying mix of shock and disbelief. I suddenly realized that Aiden was the one who had truly lived through this diary.

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I was in the middle of using a… personal device when the boy next door suddenly barged in. I awkwardly pulled the covers over my head, thinking he wouldn’t see me, but then a hand reached under my blanket. 1 Ethan was two years older than me. We lived next door to each other and had been childhood friends since we were toddlers. But I never imagined there would come a day when he would catch me hiding under the covers, playing with a vibrating toy that should never see the light of day. I didn’t even know he was coming over. It wasn’t until my bedroom door clicked open and his tall figure appeared in the doorway that the blood rushed to my head. “Ah—!” I let out a short scream, my mind going blank. My only instinct was to yank the duvet over my head, covering myself completely. Doomed! Social death! I held my breath, praying he was just here to borrow a book or that my mom had sent him to call me for dinner, and that he would leave in the next second. Silence outside the duvet. However, the expected sound of the door closing didn’t come. Instead, steady footsteps approached my bed, step by step. My heart beat so fast it felt like it would jump out of my throat. Then, a warm, dry hand reached into my blanket without warning! “!” My whole body went rigid, toes curling against the sheets. I felt like I was going to faint from lack of oxygen. That hand had a clear target. It brushed precisely past my thigh and touched the little thing that was still vibrating slightly. Fingertips seemed to graze the skin of my thigh, sending a fatal shiver through me. Then, he deftly removed it, and the vibration stopped abruptly. Ethan’s low, calm voice came from outside the duvet: “Lily, why are you hiding under the covers? Your mom asked me to call you for dinner.” He paused. I could even imagine him examining the object in his hand. Then, his voice sounded with a hint of imperceptible amusement: “What is this?” My brain buzzed. In a moment of desperation, I shouted through the blanket in a muffled voice: “M-massage stick! My calf is cramping!” Yes, a massage stick. Perfect excuse! I’m a genius! It was quiet outside for a moment. He seemed to be judging the authenticity of this statement. Then, he gently tugged at the corner of my blanket, his tone unreadable: “Come out and eat. Or… do you need me to help you ‘massage’?” That sentence shot through my spine like an electric current. I clutched the duvet tightly, exposing only a pair of burning eyes, daring not look at him. Ethan stood by the bed, tall and straight, holding the “massage stick” in his hand, looking as composed as if he were examining a common tool. “I… I can do it myself.” My cheeks burned like fried eggs, my voice as small as a mosquito’s hum. He looked at me, a faint smile seemingly flitting across his deep eyes, so fast I thought it was an illusion. He didn’t continue the dangerous topic. Instead, he naturally and calmly put the little thing into his own pocket. “Your mom wants you downstairs for dinner,” he repeated, his gaze sweeping over my still-flushed face. He added flatly, “Lock the door next time you ‘massage’.” With that, he didn’t stay any longer. He turned and left my room, even thoughtfully closing the door behind him. I was left alone in the room with a heart about to explode. He took it?! Why did he take my stuff! And… and put it in his own pocket! That thing… it might still have… I dared not think further, burying my burning face deep in my knees. Ethan… what does he mean? 2 I spent ten minutes mentally preparing myself in my room before dawdling downstairs for dinner. At the dining table, my mom was enthusiastically serving Ethan food. “Ethan, eat more. If only Lily were as sensible as you, I’d worry less.” Ethan smiled politely. “You’re too kind, Auntie. Lily is great.” He looked completely at ease, as if the dominant and ambiguous man in my room just now was a hallucination. This realization made my ears hot, and I buried my head even lower. My mom, oblivious, continued to chatter: “Ethan, you’re an orthopedist, right? Lily’s been complaining about shoulder and neck pain from painting lately. She won’t go to the hospital. You should talk to her!” Ethan put down his chopsticks, his gaze seemingly inadvertently falling on me. His look was calm, yet it made me feel like I was sitting on pins and needles. The corners of his lips curved slightly, his tone warm and concerned: “Is that so? If your shoulder hurts…” He paused before continuing leisurely, “Just using a ‘massage stick’ for local massage might not be effective enough.” “Pfft—cough! Cough cough!” I choked on my rice, my whole face turning explosive red instantly. My mom quickly patted my back. “Child, why eat so fast!” She turned back to Ethan: “Exactly! I offered to buy her a neck massager, but she refused, saying she didn’t need it.” The smile in Ethan’s eyes deepened. He looked at me meaningfully. “Mm, Lily… does have her own ‘methods’ for relief. However, the tools might not be professional enough. Next time you’re uncomfortable, just tell me directly.” Every word was normal, but combined, they were like bombs dropping in my ears! What was he hinting at? How much did he know?! This meal was torture. Every second was suffering. He chatted naturally with my parents, occasionally steering the topic to me, each time precisely stepping on my nerve of shame. When he finally got up to leave, I almost collapsed in my chair, feeling like I had fought a tough battle. 3 That night, I lay in bed tossing and turning. The events of the day and Ethan’s meaningful words replayed in my mind. Shame, confusion, and an indescribable throb entangled together. Compelled by some mysterious force, I grabbed my phone, opened an anonymous forum, and typed a post with trembling fingers: [Confession] My neighbor brother, who is a doctor, caught me using a “massage stick”! He didn’t expose me then and even confiscated the toy, but he kept teasing me with words at the dinner table. I’m dying!!! Online waiting, urgent!!! Not long after the post went up, notifications started pinging. A skyscraper of replies built up instantly. “First! Waiting for updates!” “Wait, sister, the point is the massage stick. Why didn’t you dodge when he reached for it? That move itself is wild!” “Upstairs +1. And he mentioned it at dinner? He’s definitely doing it on purpose! It’s too easy for a doctor to verify if you really had a cramp. He’s just teasing you! Enjoying your panic. This guy has high-level game!” “Just imagining it makes my toes curl… but honestly, why do I ship it? Calm and restrained neighbor brother VS socially dead childhood sweetheart. This plot is bestseller material!” “Suggest OP play along! Next time he mentions it, flirt back. Like, ‘The effect is indeed mediocre. Do you have a better recommendation, brother?’” Reading these replies, the heat on my face rose again. These netizens have sharp eyes! Their words were like keys trying to pry open my closed heart. Just then, a reply quickly upvoted to the top jumped out. Sharp and to the point: “What are you afraid of? He’s clearly interested in you. Men know men’s games best. Attack directly. Just ask him: ‘Brother, you took my stuff… do you want to demonstrate how to use it personally?’ Guaranteed he’ll be more flustered than you.” “Boom—” I felt all the blood rush to my head. This reply… too bold, too naked! It was like stripping my guilt and secret expectations bare under the sun. But a voice deep inside screamed: They’re right! Ethan’s behavior can’t be explained by just being a “brother”! With trembling fingers, I liked that reply, as if injecting myself with a bit of lonely courage. 4 The reply “Attack directly” planted a seed of rebellion in my heart, growing wildly overnight. The next day, I was restless all day. Holding a paintbrush, the lines I drew were messy. My mind was full of Ethan’s calm face and that bold reply. Courage comes and goes quickly. By evening, that bit of courage was drowned by anxiety. I rolled around on the bed hugging my pillow, wanting to retreat countless times. But thinking of his ease at the dinner table, as if everything was under his control, a refusal to admit defeat bubbled up again. Why am I the only one in chaos? Taking a deep breath, I jumped out of bed, changed out of my pajamas into a decent T-shirt and shorts, took a few deep breaths in front of the mirror, and then opened the door like I was marching to my death. The hallway was quiet. I stood at his door, raising and lowering my hand repeatedly, my heart beating like a rabbit. Finally, I closed my eyes, steeled my heart, and rang the doorbell. Footsteps approached from inside, and the door opened. Ethan stood at the door. He seemed to have just showered, his black hair wet, a few strands hanging unruly on his forehead, less rigorous than during the day, more lazy and domestic. He wore a simple gray cotton T-shirt and lounge pants, smelling of fresh body wash. Seeing me, a clear surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly returning to calm. He stepped aside: “Lily? What’s up?” “I… I came to get my stuff.” I tried to make my voice sound righteous, but a slight tremor betrayed me. “Stuff?” He raised an eyebrow, as if not reacting. “It’s… what you took from me yesterday… that, massage stick.” The last two words were almost mumbled in my throat, my cheeks heating up uncontrollably. He realized, the corner of his lips seeming to curve. He turned to walk inside: “Come in. Close the door.” I followed him into the study. This was the corner of his house I was most familiar with. Walls full of books, a neat desk, the air filled with the faint scent of books and his clean aura. He walked behind the desk but didn’t open the drawer immediately. Instead, he leaned leisurely against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, looking at me. “Why the sudden rush to get it back?” he asked, eyes calm, like inquiring about an illness. “Cramping again?” Nowhere to hide under his gaze, I bit the bullet and followed my drafted script: “No! Just… just felt that it’s my personal item. It’s inappropriate to leave it with you.” “Oh?” He dragged out the syllable, suddenly taking two steps closer to me. His tall figure brought invisible pressure. I instinctively stepped back, but my calves hit the edge of the soft sofa, and I fell onto it. He leaned over, hands propping on the back of the sofa on either side of me, completely enveloping me in his shadow. The fresh scent after a bath mixed with strong male hormones dominantly occupied all my senses. “Where is it inappropriate?” He lowered his head, gaze locking onto me, voice low and bewitching. “I’m a doctor. Helping you verify the compliance of a ‘medical device,’ isn’t that just right?” His face was very close. I could clearly see his long eyelashes and the deep darkness in his eyes. My heart was about to jump out of my throat. That sentence from the forum spammed my brain. Go for it! I looked up, meeting his gaze, trying not to let my voice tremble: “Brother, you took it… Could it be, you want to demonstrate personally… the correct way to use it?” The moment the words fell, the muscles in Ethan’s arms propped on the sofa seemed to tighten. The calm deep sea in his eyes suddenly surged with huge waves. Something strongly suppressed and highly aggressive broke through the ice. He stared at me, a look that seemed ready to devour me. The room was quiet, leaving only my heart beating like a drum and his gradually deepening breathing. Suddenly, he laughed. Not his usual gentle, faint smile, but one with a hint of roguishness, control, and amusement. “Lily Lin,” he called my full name, voice terribly hoarse and burning hot. “Do you know the consequences of provoking a doctor?” Before I could react, he pinched my chin, applying slight pressure with his thumb. “Close your eyes.” A commanding tone, unquestionable. Like under a spell, my eyelashes trembled, and I obediently closed my eyes. The next second, burning, soft lips pressed down with irresistible force, completely sealing my breath and thoughts.

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I am the most hated woman on the internet, a singer who supposedly “trapped” a billionaire into marriage. Invisible drone cameras are currently livestreaming every corner of my home, and I have absolutely no idea. On screen, Liam Sterling walks up to me and asks coldly, “Are you playing games again?” The haters in the chat are gloating. “Chloe finally has to drop the act. She’s been clinging to Mr. Sterling for clout, but now we’ll see the truth!” Even my in-laws and sister-in-law are watching with cold indifference. “If Liam really dislikes her that much, they shouldn’t force it anymore.” But then, the woman known to the public as gentle, submissive, and desperate for love—me—impatiently pushes Liam’s handsome face away. “What is wrong with you? Get away from me.” Liam, the icy, untouchable CEO, suddenly looks… pouted? “Do you find me annoying?” 1 The day I married into the Sterling family, the internet tore me apart. “What happened? My favorite ship just sank!” “Chloe has no shame. She knew Liam had a thing for Bella, but she seduced him anyway. I can’t believe she actually became Mrs. Sterling!” My husband, Liam Sterling, and the famous actress Bella Hart were childhood friends. He invested in her movies, punched producers who tried to creep on her, and showed up to support her on talk shows. The Billionaire and the Sweetheart. They were the Nation’s Couple. Until I, the “scheming villain,” ruined everything. In interviews, Bella would force a smile and say, “Liam and his wife are a good match,” before turning away with teary eyes. The internet wept for her and cursed me. Even my in-laws hated me. That part wasn’t wrong. Liam’s parents were cold at the wedding, and his sister, Harper, never called me “Sister-in-law”—she just spat out my name, “Chloe.” The trending topic #WhenWillChloeDivorce was a permanent fixture on social media. I didn’t really care. Liam and I weren’t madly in love, but we weren’t enemies. I had unlimited money and a handsome husband to sleep with. Life was good. Who cared what strangers thought? But I didn’t realize how much the family wanted to expose me. Sterling Tech had just developed a micro-drone camera with AI tracking and privacy filters. To promote it, the PR department volunteered their CEO. The invisible camera was set to track Liam Sterling’s daily life, broadcasting it to the world. And nobody told me. So there I was, wearing messy pajamas, sprawled on the sofa like a starfish, completely unaware that the show had already begun. 2 “Shouldn’t we tell Chloe? What if she says something crazy?” Harper pouted, watching the stream on her tablet. On screen, Liam was leaning back in his car, eyes closed, looking exhausted. He had hosted a press conference all morning and was now doing this livestream stunt. But his silence didn’t dampen the audience’s enthusiasm. “The most hardcore brand ambassador ever—CEO Sterling!” “This is way better than watching reality TV stars.” “Speaking of stars, will Chloe show up?” “Ugh, don’t mention her. Bad luck.” “Every time I see her fake innocent face, I feel sick for Bella.” “Don’t worry, guys. Livestreams are the ultimate lie detectors. Just wait for her mask to slip.” Mrs. Sterling glanced at the nasty comments and said calmly, “Chloe is a singer, not an actress. She can’t fake natural interactions. If she tries, people will think the stream is scripted, which hurts the product.” “Besides, your brother knows what he’s doing.” Harper huffed. “I still don’t get why he married her.” The room went silent. They viewed this livestream as a test. It would reveal the “real” marriage. If it was as bad as they thought, they would finally intervene and suggest a divorce. Meanwhile, I was wearing yellow bear-print pajamas, my hair clipped up in a chaotic bun, buried in a beanbag chair, doom-scrolling. I didn’t even notice Liam walking in. He took off his tie, got a glass of water, and paced back and forth in front of me three times. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, but I was in the middle of a boss fight. Not now, Liam. Seeing no reaction, he marched up to me. His face was tight, his voice frosty. “Are you playing games again?” The comments exploded. “See? He’s mad! He worked all day and she doesn’t even say hello. Gold digger behavior.” “Cold home, cold husband. Welcome to Chloe’s tragedy.” “She deserves it. She broke up the golden couple.” They waited for me to jump up and apologize, playing the submissive wife role I usually projected. Instead, I frowned, annoyed, and swatted his face away like a fly. “What is wrong with you? Move. You’re blocking my screen.” Liam’s eyes widened slightly. His cold mask cracked, revealing a puppy-dog level of grievance. “Do you find me annoying?” For ten seconds, the chat was completely blank. Harper dropped her phone. “Am I hallucinating? Is my brother… whining?” 3 Hearing the hurt in his voice, I finally looked up from my game. He was leaning over me, his hand bracing against the back of the sofa, staring at me intensely. I poked his arm. Rigid. He was doing that thing again. Sulking. It had always been like this. If I ignored him for too long, he’d trap me in his arms, refuse to speak, and refuse to let me leave. He would stare at me with those intense eyes, stubborn as a mule. But he was easy to fix. A hug, or a kiss. Then he’d secretly smirk and go back to being the cool, collected CEO. I suspect it was his upbringing. As the heir, his parents demanded perfection. He was the quintessential “Strongman”—stoic on the outside, a total mess of emotions on the inside. I sighed, put down my phone, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I kissed him softly near his ear and whispered, “Of course not. Hubby is the best.” Liam’s ears turned bright red. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply, hugging me so tight it almost hurt. After a moment, he straightened up, then suddenly froze. The comments were in chaos. “What is happening? Is he… blushing?” “Is this how they usually are? I don’t believe it. It’s an act!” “Definitely scripted! Remember when he told her to shut up on that variety show?” “But… look at his ears. You can’t fake that shade of red.” 4 The internet was lamenting the fall of a titan. The stoic CEO was acting like a clingy teenager. Harper couldn’t process it. Her brother was dignity personified. He wouldn’t degrade himself like this for a marketing stunt. She stared at the screen, then pointed a trembling finger. “Did… did we hire a lookalike?” Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were equally stunned. In the video, their serious, mature son was nuzzling into Chloe’s neck. Their brains short-circuited. Meanwhile, the haters were trying to cope. “It makes me sick. How can a woman who used dirty tricks to get him live so happily?” “I feel so bad for Bella. She was replaced by this.” “Wait, why are we bringing up Bella? Chloe is the actual wife.” “Heh, Chloe isn’t worth one of Bella’s fingernails.”

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