Category: English

I cheated way too hard on an exam and accidentally landed myself in the advanced placement class. As a result, the placement test exposed me completely. To avoid being kicked out, I confessed to my academic rival, the school genius: “Julian, I’ve liked you for a long time.” He slowly took off his glasses: “Oh? Let’s give it a try then.” Later, he pinned me down to grind through practice problems: “Keep count yourself. Get one wrong, get a kiss.” I was kissed until I was breathless: “I got this one right…” He chuckled low and kissed me again: “That’s a reward.” 1 “Our AP class is all about excellence. We weed out the weak!” Mr. Wang banged on the podium. “If your total score is below 600, it means you can’t keep up with our pace. You should go to the regular class to adjust! This is for your own good!” My head buzzed. I’m done for. Totally screwed. Last month’s exam, I got lucky and sat right behind Julian Sterling—the academic god who’s always at the top, his name practically glowing with holy light. Following my life motto of “take advantage when you can” and “copy if you can, copy more if it works.” My 20/20 vision worked overtime, and I “borrowed” heavily from his math and science answers. But I didn’t expect to “borrow” my way to a 600! For me, that score is like a miracle, a divine intervention! And now, I’m stuck in the AP class. That day, my dad cracked open his prized whiskey, and my mom excitedly broadcasted to everyone: “Oh my! Our Manny has made it! She’s in the AP class! That’s Ivy League material! Top-tier university guaranteed!” If they knew their “Ivy League material” was now shivering in the elimination zone… I shuddered. I couldn’t imagine the lecture and the grounding that would follow. “Manny, especially you! As a newcomer, you need to work harder!” Mr. Wang’s pained gaze locked onto me. “Don’t spend all day chattering with Xavier. It’s like you rented your mouth.” Xavier, my desk mate, had the honor of being second to last, just one point above me. Mr. Wang looked at us like we were dragging down the entire class’s IQ. “Recently, some students suggested we implement a one-on-one mentorship program. So, we’ll rearrange the seats. The last place sits with the first place, and so on.” First place? Isn’t that Julian? Who wants to sit with that annoying guy! “Julian! As her desk mate, help the new student out, even though it might be difficult.” Julian turned slightly, pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses—standard issue for the refined scumbag—and curved his lips into a calm smile: “I’m used to it. It’s fine.” I gritted my teeth and rolled my eyes at him. Pretentious jerk! Julian Sterling, my childhood friend, and the stumbling block, comparison point, and ultimate “neighbor’s kid” in my life. We’ve known each other since (probably) before we were born, and have been compared all the way up. He’s well-behaved; I’m a troublemaker. He gets perfect scores; I celebrate passing. He’s a walking wall of honor; I’m a living letter of apology. My mom’s classic mantra, “Look at Julian!”, is basically the main theme song of my life. Infinite loop, never muted. 2 After a math class, I felt my CPU was overloaded and smoking, my soul drifting miles away. Turning to look at Julian, this guy’s notes were flowing like water, and he even raised his hand to add a point or two occasionally. “Julian made a very good point.” The teacher smiled until his eyes were slits. “I hadn’t even thought of that solution.” The bell rang, and I slumped in my chair, feeling drained. “Manny!” My best friend peeked in from the back door, waving excitedly at me. I rushed out of the classroom like I was escaping. “How is it? How is it? Being in the AP class, bathed in the academic aura every day, did your IQ go up by 10?” Her eyes shone, the fire of gossip burning bright. “I feel like dying.” I said with a mournful face. “There’s another monthly exam next week. I’m definitely going to be last. If I get kicked out of Class 1, my mom will break my legs.” “What do I do? Should I go steal the answers from Mr. Wang’s office?” I was hopeless. “Isn’t there a ready-made answer sitting right next to you? Julian! Ask him to tutor you!” My best friend reminded me. I was speechless: “Him? Did you forget how he reacted when the class beauty from next door gathered the courage to ask him a physics question last time?” “‘You don’t even know the most basic formulas. I suggest repeating freshman year.’” Her eyes darted around: “I have an idea.” “Spill.” “Confess to Julian!” She lowered her voice, counting on her fingers to analyze for me. “Think about it! If it works, he’s your boyfriend! It’s only natural for a boyfriend to tutor his girlfriend, right? Would he dare have an attitude? You could make him kneel on a washboard in minutes! If he rejects you—” She giggled. “He’d feel at least a little guilty, right? You’re the childhood friend he grew up with! Once he feels guilty, and you ask nicely, can he still give you a hard time? Either way, you win, sister!” I was stunned. “Will that work?” “This is called finding life in death!” She patted my shoulder. “Think about your mom’s feather duster and your dad’s belt!” I shivered. “Besides.” She leaned in mysteriously. “I heard Julian has never dated anyone. Maybe he’s secretly in love with his little childhood friend?” “Give me a break.” I rolled my eyes: “What he loves is probably ‘5 Years of Exams, 3 Years of Simulations’ or that ‘Advanced Mathematics’ book thicker than a brick!” Last semester, the school beauty confessed to him, and he didn’t even look up, dropping a line: “Sorry, I don’t date anyone with a score under 700.” One sentence, driving away all suitors. However, although my best friend’s words were outrageous. But… it seems, maybe, possibly… there’s a tiny bit of logic? Right now, there’s no way out. I’ll bet on it! “Fine!” I gritted my teeth. “I’ll do it! It’s just a confession! Going all out!” “That’s the spirit!” My best friend patted my shoulder excitedly. “Show the passion you use when chasing your anime husband! Remember, sincere eyes! Deep tone! Go! The organization believes in you!” 3 Back in the classroom, Julian was reading a book. Sunlight spilled through the window onto his profile, outlining a perfect jawline. I have to admit, this guy is somewhat attractive. If you ignore that “strangers stay away, acquaintances get lost” aura. I took a deep breath, then another deep breath: “Ju… Julian!” His finger turning the page stopped. He slowly looked up. I squeezed my eyes shut and yelled with the determination of facing death: “I’ve liked you for a long time! Julian!” My voice was a bit loud; half the class went quiet. I realized it too late and covered my mouth, but it was done. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Dead silence, absolute dead silence. I peeked through a slit in my eyes. Julian’s expression… No expression. He looked at me like he was looking at a math problem he could solve in three seconds. He slowly put down his pen, took off his glasses, and rubbed his brow. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile that wasn’t quite a smile: “Let’s give it a try then.” Me: “???” I froze on the spot, my mind going blank. That’s not how the script goes! Given Julian’s personality, shouldn’t it be “Are you worthy?” or “I suggest you get your brain checked at the hospital”? Try? Try what? How to try? My brain crashed completely. “What, changing your mind?” Julian put his glasses back on, a glint I couldn’t read flashing in his eyes behind the lenses. “Who, who’s changing their mind!” I stiffened my neck, feeling my face burning. “Try it is!” “Wait for me after school.” “What for?” I looked at him warily. The half-smile on his lips deepened as he clearly spat out one word: “Date.” D… date? I feel like I dug a pit for myself… 4 After school, only the two of us were left in the empty classroom. Julian pointed at my test paper with a score of 88, looking at it like it was a biological weapon: “Why did you choose B for this question?” I answered guiltily: “It looked pleasing to the eye.” “Math isn’t metaphysics.” He pushed up his glasses. “You should know the most basic function formulas. You shouldn’t have missed this one. I’ll explain it to you once.” He suddenly leaned close, and I smelled the faint scent of mint on him. I shrank my neck. His breath was too close, making my already scattered attention drift even further. “Look at the question.” He tapped the test paper, forcefully dragging my wandering soul back. “So, what’s the final answer to this question?” I stared at the steps he just wrote, my mind blank: “A??” He narrowed his eyes, the gaze behind the lenses becoming dangerous: “Why?” “Can’t I just guess!” Embarrassed by his stare, I got angry. I stiffened my neck and yelled back. The next second. He suddenly reached out. Crossing over my body, he braced himself on the edge of the desk on both sides of me. I was trapped between the narrow desk and chair and his warm chest! My eyes widened: “Julian, you you you… what do you want?” “Starting now.” He leaned down slightly, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing and irresistibility: “Get one wrong, get a kiss.” He paused, as if to emphasize the fairness of the rule. Adding, “Keep count yourself.” What??? This dog! This is definitely premeditated revenge! Abuse of power! Refined scum! Beast in human clothing! Hypocrite! (Omitting ten thousand words.) “You… you’re being a pervert!” I stomped my foot in anger. “Didn’t you say you liked me?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone matter-of-fact. “Kissing my own girlfriend is only natural.” I was speechless. This lie came back to bite me hard.

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I went night fishing by the river, only to be stopped by a hot cop who mistook me for a body dumper. I tried desperately to explain: “I’m here to fish!” The cop didn’t buy it: “Where’s the bait?” I shrugged helplessly: “Fish ate it.” The cop pressed: “Where’s the rod?” I sighed: “Fish dragged it away.” The cop sneered: “Where’s the fish? I’ve been watching you for half an hour, not a single fish. Are you the Air Force commander?” I broke down instantly: “Haha, actually I’m the killer! I’m really the killer! Arrest me! Arrest me now!!” 1 Not catching a single fry all night, I might as well be the killer! The handsome cop probably didn’t expect a simple questioning to break me. He quickly tried to patch things up: “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything else. I just really didn’t expect you were here to fish, given how clean your bucket is.” Hearing this, I cried even louder. Bro, are you comforting me or twisting the knife? While handing me tissues, the cop persisted: “If you didn’t catch any fish, did you catch anything else?” I sobbed: “Does catching a shoe count?” The cop nodded immediately: “Of course! Where’s the shoe?” I pointed to the pond in front of us: “I got too mad, threw it back.” The cop took a slow breath: “Exactly where? Can you fish it out again?” I shook my head, troubled: “Unlikely. Just now, a frustrated angler got so mad he went down to fight the fish, probably kicked the shoe away.” The hot cop tsked, looking a bit headache-prone, and contacted his colleagues to come dredge for the shoe. Curious, I tentatively asked: “Did something happen?” The hot guy answered with a question: “Have you encountered anything strange?” Absolutely! I slapped my thigh: “This pond! I’ve been here five days, at least three hours a day, and haven’t caught a single fish. Tell me, isn’t that strange!” The hot guy smiled slightly: “Let’s not discuss luck.” I thought to myself, how can you call this luck! This is clearly suspicious! Does anyone really go home empty-handed for a week straight? I don’t believe it! I wanted to argue for myself, but the hot cop’s colleague arrived first: “Officer Lu, how’s the situation on your end?” Seeing me, the other cop’s eyes lit up: “Caught a suspect?” The hot guy waved his hand: “This lady is just here to fish.” “What?” The other cop was clearly incredulous: “Fishing? Then why is her bucket empty? “We released three thousand pounds of fry into this pond, and she didn’t catch a single one?!” 2 Enough! I said enough! You two cold-hearted men! You better sleep with one eye open tonight! “Stop it,” the cop named Luke couldn’t bear to look at my tragic expression, quickly patting his colleague, “Should be nothing here, let’s check over there.” Filled with grief and indignation, I followed them to the side. “Where are you going?” Luke blocked me. I pouted: “Retrieving my fishing rod, I set up a big one over there.” Luke let go then, asking as we walked: “Are you familiar with the fishing buddies around here?” I nodded and shook my head: “Sort of, just familiar faces, don’t know their names.” Luke said “Oh”: “Any suspicious persons?” I kept a straight face: “Plenty. Officer, you need to know, anglers only have two states: extremely calm and extremely manic. “For example, right now I look extremely calm, but actually I really want to jump into the water and fight the fish.” Luke suppressed a laugh: “Maybe jump later, finish answering our questions first.” As we spoke, we reached my fishing rod. Observing the water surface, confirming there was no movement, my heart turned to ash instantly: “Then ask quickly, I’m ready to go in.” Luke quickly grabbed me: “Don’t get exci—” Before he finished, the float on the water surface shook, then started to drift. I froze, then rejoiced, pouncing to pull the rod: “Up up up! Fish on!!” Must be a big one, quite heavy. I couldn’t pull it at first and almost threw my back out. Seeing this, Luke quickly helped me: “Slow down, don’t get excited!” How could I listen to him, waving my hand frantically: “Net net net! Give me the net!” Luke scanned around: “No net!” Damn, hooked a big one once a year, and forgot the landing net today! “It’s fine!” I gritted my teeth instantly, “No net, I’ll pull it hard!!” Just a fish, twenty pounds max! I don’t believe I can’t pull it up! … Overestimated. Feels like eighty pounds. But luckily this fish didn’t struggle. Luke and I pulled hard for nearly half a minute, finally seeing a shadow surface. “This fish… has a weird shape.” As the shadow got closer, my expression grew stranger: “This fish… why is it rectangular??” 3 Good news: Didn’t go home empty-handed today. Bad news: What came up wasn’t a fish. Midnight by the pond, red and blue police lights flashing. And I squatted by the pond, touching my heavy rod, weeping silently: You worked hard, big rod. Since you came to my hand, didn’t catch a single fish, but caught human fragments first. “Is the rod damaged? Still usable?” A voice came from above. I looked up, meeting Luke’s handsome face, my sorrow instantly lessened. “It’s fine, this rod can handle 130 pounds.” Although until now, I’ve never seen a fish over 30 pounds. Luke hummed “Mm”, his eyes quite gentle in the night: “Tell us if it’s damaged. After all, you helped us retrieve a body, the police can offer some compensation.” I wiped my tears dramatically: “Then it’s definitely damaged. Officer Lu, my soul is severely injured, need comfort urgently.” Luke suppressed a laugh: “Send you a pennant later? Fishing King?” I choked: “Are you sure you’re not being sarcastic?” Before Luke could speak, a pungent stench drifted over. It stank for ten miles, bringing tears to anyone who smelled it! “What’s happening?” I almost vomited, covering my nose hurriedly. Luke looked over: “The coroner opened the suitcase.” Hearing this, I instinctively looked back, but Luke blocked my eyes almost immediately. “Don’t look.” His palm landed before my eyes, pushing gently, making me retreat: “You’ll have insomnia for a long time if you look.” I blinked, knowing it was for my own good, and obediently retreated behind the police car following his force. Only when completely away from the suitcase did Luke let go: “It’s late, I’ll drive you back first.” I said “Ah”, my mind still on the suitcase. “Hey.” Luke waved in front of me, “What are you thinking about?” I snapped back, grabbing Luke’s hand, pointing at the distant suitcase: “That suitcase, I seem to have seen it somewhere.” 4 Not seem to, I definitely saw it somewhere. The floral print on the side of the suitcase looked so familiar! Luke was stunned too, then became serious: “Really? Think hard then, this is a big clue for solving the case.” Of course I knew, but often the harder you try to remember, the blurrier the memory gets. After thinking for a long time, my brain was still mush. Seeing this, Luke took out his phone: “Let’s exchange contact info first, contact me anytime you remember.” I nodded “Oh oh”, exchanging numbers with him. Luke looked at me: “What should I call you?” I said: “My last name is Wen, Wen Mian.” (let’s call her Wendy) “Okay.” Luke looked at me, slowly exhaling, “It’s late, I’ll send you home first. Come to the station tomorrow to make a statement. “Think carefully about that suitcase when you get back tonight.” I waved my hand: “It’s fine, I drove here, I can go back myself.” Luke insisted: “It’s very late, unsafe for a girl to go back alone. My colleague will drive your car back for you.” Since he put it that way, I couldn’t refuse. Thinking this guy is handsome and kind, I got into the car happily. On the way back, I chatted with Luke at first, then got too sleepy and lazy to speak, leaning against the window thinking about the suitcase print. That flower is too familiar, where exactly did I see… Holy cow! The car braked suddenly. Unprepared, I was thrown forward, chest hurting from the seatbelt. “What happened?” I rubbed my chest, coming back to my senses. “Arrived at your community.” Luke pointed to the gate ahead, “I’ll register, send you downstairs.” I wanted to say no need for the trouble, just a few steps, but Luke already rolled down the window greeting the security booth, finishing registration in a few sentences. “Quite responsible to the people…” I muttered. Luke just smiled upon hearing it: “Should be.” The car quickly arrived downstairs. I unbuckled the seatbelt: “Thanks Officer Lu, you go back and rest early too.” Luke looked at me, gaze indecipherable: “It’s okay, remember to come to the station tomorrow.” I nodded “Mm mm”: “I know.” Luke didn’t unlock the door, but repeated: “Must come.” I thought I’m not senile, no need to repeat so many times. But stared at by Luke’s deep eyes, I swallowed the complaint. “I will definitely go.” Luke seemed satisfied then, unlocking the door to let me out. Back home, showered and cleaned up, it was almost dawn. Leaning on the balcony drying my hair, forcing my eyes open waiting for the washing machine, I glanced down and saw a very familiar car parked downstairs. Isn’t that Luke’s car? Why hasn’t he left yet?

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My wife gave a college kid a hundred million dollars. Then she personally produced a 24/7 reality series about him. The series, titled “A Hundred Million Dollar Life,” went viral. And the comments were flooded with people shipping them as a couple. 【This is so sweet! Is the $100 million giveaway still on? Where do I sign up?】 【How could you not fall for her? She gave him a fortune and then personally molded him into a superstar influencer. This is literally the definition of nurturing someone you love.】 【When is this series ending so you two can start filming your life as a couple? I can’t wait!】 I warned her not to take it too far. Her response? “Liam, it’s art. Don’t tarnish it with your petty jealousy.” Fine. Art, is it? The next day, I found a college girl of my own. And I gave her a hundred million dollars. 1 “You’re the one.” From a long list of candidates, I chose a young woman who was the polar opposite of my wife, Claire. The girl, unable to contain herself, practically jumped out of her chair. “Mr. Wood, are you for real? A hundred million dollars?” “And you want me to mirror his channel, right? Performing is my major. I can do this.” “But… won’t we get sued for copyright infringement? What if they report us?” Infringement? My voice was flat, calm. “The creator of that channel is my wife.” She stared at me, completely baffled. “Sir… are you two some kind of philanthropic power couple?” A fair question. I’d asked Claire the same thing a year ago. When she first pitched the “Hundred Million Dollar Life” concept, I was confused. Not by the idea itself, but by her choice of star. “Why does it have to be a guy?” I’d asked. She said I didn’t understand, that a male lead would generate more buzz. “Isn’t a hundred million a bit much?” I’d pressed. She reminded me that it was our joint marital property. She was free to do as she pleased with her half, and I had no right to question it. To this day, I still don’t know. Was this whole grand project just an elaborate excuse to get close to him? 2 The day after we signed the contract, the college girl was buzzing with excitement. I decided to copy Claire’s method and film her myself. Claire’s channel was called “Snowfall on Bamboo.” She claimed she chose the name because it contained the character for ‘wood’—a nod to my last name, a symbol of our shared creation. But I knew the college kid she was filming was named Ethan Cole. Close enough. A private joke at my expense. I wasn’t in the mood for clever wordplay. I named the new channel after the girl. “Maya Song.” Claire’s first video was about how Ethan spent his first day with a hundred million dollars. It exploded online the moment she posted it. Because the very first thing Ethan bought was a scarf for Claire. He was handed a life-changing fortune, and he didn’t buy a car, or a house. He bought a ridiculously expensive scarf. He looked straight into the camera, his eyes shining. “I know you’re incredibly wealthy and you don’t need me to buy you a scarf,” he’d said, “but you’re always wearing that lopsided, hideous thing. I wanted to get you a new one.” That “hideous thing” was a scarf I had knitted for Claire myself. It had turned out so ugly that I’d thrown it in the trash in frustration. Claire had fished it out, treating it like a treasure. “Liam made this for me,” she’d said, wrapping it around her neck. “It’s not ugly at all. I’ll wear it forever.” The memory brought a sting to my eyes. In the video, when Ethan presented her with the new scarf, she just smiled softly. Then, she unwound the one I had made. And dropped it into a nearby trash can. Without a moment’s hesitation. I didn’t sleep that night. I replayed the video over and over, dissecting every frame. I confronted her, demanded to know why she’d thrown away my gift. She came home later that night with the scarf. The once-cherished item was now shoved carelessly into a cheap plastic bag. “I told you, it’s for the show. It’s just work. Can you stop overthinking everything?” She glanced at her watch. “If there’s nothing else, I have to go. Ethan needs me on set. I’ve probably missed a dozen great shots just by coming here for an hour.” 3 “Mr. Wood, what do you think I should buy for you?” Maya’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Her gaze fell on the simple, plain band on my finger. “You’re so rich. Why are you still wearing this?” “A diamond-encrusted ring would suit you so much better.” This was the first ring Claire had ever given me, back when we were just starting our company. As we became more successful, she bought me countless expensive, beautiful rings. But I always wore this one. It represented our beginning. Our promise to never forget where we came from. But now… Maybe forgetting was the only way forward. “Alright,” I said with a smile. “Let’s shoot it just like that.” 4 A female-led channel, a direct answer to “Snowfall on Bamboo,” appeared overnight and immediately sparked a firestorm online. 【Wait, there’s another one? Why do they keep these giveaways a secret from us?】 【Another chance to get rich, missed. The opportunities are dwindling, people.】 【So you’re the one who got the hundred million? Congrats, I guess.】 【Both channels are based in the same city. Is this just some big production company stunt? All scripted?】 I was scrolling through the comments when Claire’s call came through. “Liam, have you lost your mind?” “My project has commercial value. Yours? This is just a pathetic, jealous tantrum.” I laughed. “Commercial value? Is he going to make back a hundred million for you in ad revenue?” She started to speak, but a young man’s whining voice cut through from her end. “Claire, my leg hurts…” She hung up immediately, terrified I might hear another word. After my channel blew up, many of Claire’s friends tried to talk me down. “Don’t compete with her, Liam. Her content is getting stale. She’ll get bored in another six months and come back home.” “Yeah, man, she was always going to come back when she was done playing. By fighting back, you’re just making her dig her heels in.” “They’ve been together 24/7 for a year, but you have no actual proof she’s cheating. Just let it go.” “We all know Claire loves you more than anything. We watched you two build everything from nothing. If she ever truly betrayed you, we’d be the first to call her out. It’s just a professional relationship with Ethan, we promise.” 5 I wasn’t in a good state for the second video shoot. What should have taken an afternoon dragged on into the evening. My empty stomach began to protest. On the ride home, Maya seemed to notice something was wrong. “You’re not feeling well?” “Stomachache. It’s an old problem.” She had the driver pull over. She came back with several different brands of stomach medicine. “Thanks.” “You shouldn’t eat greasy food when your stomach hurts. Do you cook?” I shook my head. “I’ll just order something.” “Order takeout?” she said, a little too brightly. “Liam, as long as I’m here, you won’t have to.” It had been a long time since I’d had a home-cooked meal. I made an exception and let her come to my apartment. I never expected Claire to come home that night. She walked in just as my hands were circling Maya’s waist, tying the strings of her apron. The heavy slam of the door was followed by Claire’s cold, mocking laugh. “Zhou Mu. Did you know I was coming back? Did you stage this little scene for me?” “You think this will get to me? This pathetic performance is a disgrace to art!” I didn’t want to fight in front of Maya. I untied the apron I’d just fastened and gestured for her to leave. Maya didn’t move. “I’m worried she might hit you.” I gave her a faint smile. “Don’t worry. She wouldn’t dare.” After I saw Maya out, I found Claire rummaging through our bedroom. “What are you looking for?” She straightened up. “That plain ring I gave you. You used to wear it every day. I didn’t see it on you today. Where did you put it?” So she did remember our first ring. But I had already thrown it away. A pang of guilt hit me. It was quickly extinguished by her next words. “Find it, quickly. I need it for a new video series with Ethan.” I stood there for a long moment, the words not registering. “You’re going to use our ring… to shoot a video with Ethan?” “Yes,” she said, her eyes alight with a creative spark. “Everyone’s getting tired of the ‘life-changing’ angle. They want romance! I’m planning one final, killer video to wrap up the series.” “We’ll transition from the plain band to a diamond one. I’ll splice in some old photos of you and me, and frame the narrative as if he was the one who was with me when I earned that hundred million, and now I’m giving it back to him. It brings the whole story full circle.” “Liam, it’s going to be a masterpiece! It’ll go viral!” “But… that’s our story,” I asked, my voice hollow. She threw her arms around me. “Liam, you’re so smart! That’s exactly it. It’s our story. I was even hoping you’d write the script for this episode.” I pushed her away. “If it’s our story, why am I not the one in it?” 6 Claire finally sensed that something was seriously wrong. She cupped my face in her hands. “Liam, you’re overthinking again, aren’t you?” “You’re not a professional actor. What if your performance was awkward? Besides, Ethan and I have been working together for so long, we have a natural chemistry.” But Ethan wasn’t a professional actor either. I’d looked into him. He was an alumnus of our university, just three years behind us. The year Claire and I graduated and started our company, he was just a freshman. I don’t know if they were in contact during those three years. All I know is that after three years, the very first thing Claire did after achieving success was pull out a hundred million dollars to build a media empire for him. Was her choice really a coincidence? I didn’t know. Those three years of building our company were a blur of exhaustion. I never noticed a thing. I pushed her hands away, too tired to argue anymore. “I threw the ring away. And I’m not writing your script.” For the first time, a flicker of genuine emotion crossed her face. “Liam, that was the first ring I ever gave you. How could you throw it away?” If she had actually watched my first video, she would have known that I’d tossed the ring into a trash can on camera. A look of dawning realization crossed her face. “Is this because I threw away your scarf?” “So you copied my video and threw away the ring?” “Yes,” I admitted. Claire let out a bitter laugh. “I went back and got that scarf the same night. Why are you still so hung up on this one little thing?” She got the scarf back. But she never wore it again. It wasn’t the scarf she’d thrown away. It was us. “There’s nothing going on between me and Ethan. If you don’t want to write the script, fine. I won’t force you.” “I admit, I’ve been completely focused on work this past year. I haven’t been there for you.” “Just give me a little more time. After I finish this last series, I’ll take you on that vacation we talked about, okay?” She hugged me, placing a light kiss on my forehead. “Be good. And that channel of yours… just shut it down.” “Don’t make things difficult for me.” It had been so long since we’d been this close. For a split second, my body instinctively wanted to lean into her embrace. But she pushed me away just as quickly. “Okay, I only got two hours off from the set with Ethan.” As she was leaving, she noticed the stomach medicine on the table. “Your stomach is weak,” she said coolly. “Remember to eat on time.” 7 After Claire left, a tidal wave of emotions washed over me. I tried to hold it back, but it was no use. The bitter sting in my throat spread to my sinuses. Of all the things she had done, the one thing I couldn’t forgive… was her taking our story, our struggle, our love… and broadcasting it to the world as hers and Ethan’s. All those years of supporting each other through the hardest times… what did they mean now? A knock on the door startled me. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I waited a long time, composing myself before I opened it. It was Maya. “You’re still here,” I said, clearing my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. She must have seen that I’d been crying. She looked flustered. “Um, I haven’t finished cooking dinner yet.” “Can I come in and finish?” “I waited outside for a while. I didn’t see you order any takeout.” She was offering a simple, honest kindness. I couldn’t refuse. I let her in. Maya was respectful of my space. She really did just cook me a meal. She didn’t ask a single question. The food was delicious. And my mood, surprisingly, began to lift.

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The love of her life killed himself. All because she married me. For the thirty years of our marriage, our most common wish for each other was to die a miserable death. Right before I died, we had just had a massive fight. As she stormed out, she slipped something into my tea. The moment the poison hit, I knew who had done it. I forced myself to stay alive until she came home, and then I plunged a knife into her stomach, making sure she would join me in hell. But as I lay dying, I heard her stop one of her men from finishing me off. With her last breath, she gasped: “The antidote I found… give it to him…” “After I’m gone… you must… keep investigating… who’s been poisoning him all this time…” “And… when he wakes up, don’t tell that madman… it was me who found the cure for him…” A single tear escaped my closed eye. Only in my final moment did I realize how catastrophically wrong we had both been. When I was reborn, I immediately changed my university application and chose a school on the other side of the world. Let the vast oceans separate us. Let her years be lived without me, so she could finally be with the man she truly loved. … When I opened my eyes again, I was leaning against something soft, and a spoonful of hot ginger tea was being offered to my lips. I snapped my head around and met Victoria’s bloodshot eyes. For a heartbeat, we both froze. This was the morning after I’d spent an entire night standing in a storm, trying to force her to marry me. Victoria clearly hadn’t slept a wink. Dark circles bruised the skin under her impeccably cared-for eyes. “Drink it yourself.” Seeing I was awake, the flicker of worry in her eyes vanished, replaced by the familiar, combative tension of our last life. She pushed me away. “Victoria…” I managed, my voice a raw croak. “What?” “Let me hold you… just for a second…” She stood up to leave. But in the next instant, I had my arms wrapped around her from behind. I could feel her entire back go rigid. “Adrian…” she warned, her hands gripping mine, trying to pry them off. “You can’t force a flower to bloom.” “I know.” I pressed myself against her, soaking in her warmth for what I knew would be the last time. “I get it now.” “You get it now…” She let out a weary, humorless laugh. “Isn’t that what you always say?” She wrenched my hands apart, shoved me back onto the bed, and walked out without a backward glance. The way she slammed the door behind her was an eerie echo of our last moments together in our previous life. I looked down at my palms. Her warmth still lingered there. But she didn’t know. This time, I really, truly understood. I was the boy who grew up with her, the son of the man who had saved her family. But I was not, and would never be, her husband. I closed my eyes. I understand now. I’m letting you go. My phone vibrated. It was one of my assistants. “Sir, we’ve scouted the coastal villa. You’ve always wanted to have your wedding there, right? Should we change the venue?” “Go ask Mr. Leo Vance. He loves the ocean too. If he agrees, then change it.” “Sir?” my assistant asked, thinking he’d misheard. “But… you’re the groom.” “Not anymore.” I hung up and dialed my PhD advisor. “Are you sure about this? The wedding’s off? You’re coming abroad with me for the project?” he asked, wanting to confirm one last time. I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “I’m sure. I won’t back out.” My advisor let out a sigh of relief and quickly signed the necessary papers, as if afraid I’d change my mind. “Even though you’re about to graduate, they’ve been trying to get me to keep you on. A lot of people applied for this project, but no one can replace you, Adrian.” “You finally seeing sense is a good thing. Marriage can wait. A few years won’t make a difference.” A pang of guilt hit me. The project had specifically requested me from the start. But I had been so obsessed with Victoria that I’d stubbornly refused my advisor’s invitation. He had been forced to look for other candidates, but no one met the qualifications, and the entire project had been delayed. I was in his office finishing the last of the paperwork when I heard a plaintive voice from outside the door. “I worked so hard for this, but then Adrian suddenly decided he wanted the spot. My entire month of effort… it’s all wasted…” It was Leo. My hand tightened on the doorknob. Victoria’s one true love. The man who had stood between us for thirty bitter years. I opened the door, and a familiar scene played out before me. Victoria stood there, looking down at me with a coldness I had never seen from her before. “Adrian, give the spot back.” Looking at her expression, and at Leo standing behind her with a tear-streaked, pitiful face, I shook my head. “Impossible.” “Adrian…” An expression of pure disbelief crossed her face. “I’ve already bent to your will and agreed to marry you. You think I don’t know you’ve already booked the wedding venue? You have no intention of going! You’re just doing this to torment Leo!” Leo stepped forward, his eyes red. “Adrian, I really did work so hard for this. Once I’m gone, I won’t be able to bother you two anymore. You’ll have your peace…” “You know damn well how hard you actually worked,” I said flatly. “You wouldn’t have gotten this project anyway.” Leo froze, his eyes growing even redder. Before applying, his original plan was to have Victoria go with him, so I couldn’t stop them. But after I’d repeatedly harmed myself to manipulate her, Victoria, burdened by the debt her family owed mine, had finally caved and agreed to marry me. In a fit of pique, Leo had decided to go alone. But his preparations over the past few months had been driven more by anger than by actual effort. In our last life, he had failed to get the position. But Victoria didn’t know that. Her brow furrowed. “You never even gave him a chance. How can you be so sure he would fail?” I held up the signed document. “Because Professor Miles has already signed off on me.” “Adrian…” Victoria’s fists clenched, her eyes filled with an unprecedented level of disappointment. “I always thought you were just spoiled and willful, but I never imagined you could be so cruel. You don’t need this opportunity, but Leo has sacrificed so much to get here! I can’t believe you’d waste a spot from Professor Miles just to spite him!” Her breathing grew ragged as her anger mounted. She stared at me, her voice like ice. “Listen to me. You may have blackmailed me into this marriage, but because of this, I will never, ever see you as my husband.” “I know.” I nodded calmly. I had already lived through that reality. Victoria turned away, taking Leo’s arm and comforting him in a soft voice. “It’s okay. I’ll fund you myself. We’ll find other opportunities. Don’t be sad.” That gentle tone… I had dreamed of hearing it directed at me countless times in my past life. But I never got it then, and I wouldn’t get it now. I really have to go, Victoria. I assumed Victoria wouldn’t want to see me again before the wedding. But when I returned to the penthouse I’d arranged for us, I opened the door to find her standing there. Our eyes met. Before I could speak, she brushed past me and strode out. I still wasn’t fully recovered. On the kitchen counter sat a bowl of ginger tea, still perfectly warm. A wave of complicated emotions washed over me. I remembered, in our last life, how she had always taken care of me even while she despised me. All because she had promised my parents before they died that she would look after me. So, no matter how terribly we fought, when I was hospitalized, she had donated blood for me without a second thought. Even if we had just sworn to never see each other again, the moment a car was about to hit me, she would instinctively throw herself forward to push me out of the way. She was just repaying a debt with her life. And I… I had always demanded her heart as well. As I drank what was likely the last bowl of ginger tea she would ever make for me, a memory surfaced. I glanced at the date. My heart clenched. I slammed the bowl down, scrambling for my shoes as I dialed my assistant. “Get to the alley off 13th and 6th, now!” It was pouring rain outside, but I didn’t even have time to grab an umbrella. I just ran. Guided by memory, I found the alley where Leo had been beaten in our past life. Just as I remembered, a dozen large men were surrounding a boy. “Just because your parents are dead doesn’t mean their debts are! We’ve given you enough time. No money? Then we’ll take an arm!” “Stop!” I smashed a beer bottle over the leader’s head, grabbed Leo’s hand, and pulled. “Run!” “Ah!” The rain-slicked pavement sent Leo sprawling to the ground. I yanked on his arm, but he was dead weight. The thugs were already closing in. I had no choice. I shoved him behind me. “Go! I’ll hold them off!” “I… I…” Leo was terrified, huddled on the ground and shaking. “Run!” I yelled, doing my best to fend them off. Ten years of martial arts training was no match for a dozen grown men. “I can’t hold them for long! Go get the police!” “I… I’m so scared… I can’t move…” Leo’s voice was trembling uncontrollably. I gritted my teeth and kicked one of the men away, buying myself a precious second. I turned back to haul Leo to his feet, but he let out a sharp cry and shoved me—hard. A blade pierced through my body. My breath hitched. “Shit… there’s blood!” The leader hadn’t expected me to stumble into the knife. He clearly hadn’t intended to kill anyone, and his hand on the hilt was unsteady. My eyes were wide, fixed on Leo. He was staring at me, head in his hands, trembling. “I-I’m sorry… I was just so scared…” Clenching my jaw, I ripped the knife out of my own body and lunged at the thugs, swinging it wildly. They were already spooked by the blood. Seeing me go berserk was the last straw. The group scattered and fled. I staggered, barely staying on my feet. Rain blurred my vision. Through the haze, I heard footsteps approaching quickly. I reached out instinctively for support, but a powerful force shoved me, and my back slammed against the brick wall. Victoria was holding a shivering Leo, her jaw tight as she glared at me. “I already agreed to marry you! Why do you still have to hunt him down like an animal?!”

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I chased Justin for three years. After he stood me up yet again, I stumbled upon a forum post. [Started dating my best friend’s crush. Should I tell her?] The most popular comment had just been posted: [My best friend chased him for three years, and his best friend chased me for three years, but we ended up together.] [I won’t tell them. Watching them worry about us and run around for us is actually pretty fun.] The attached photo showed the profiles of a handsome man and a beautiful woman. The girl smiled mischievously at the camera, while the man looked at her with doting affection. He looked handsome and painfully familiar. My eyes instantly reddened, but I was pulled aside by Chase, who had rushed over. He gritted his teeth, “They’re playing us like this. Can you tolerate it?” “You’re beautiful, and I’m not bad myself. Why don’t we become a couple and slap them in the face?” Later, on the day they were having fun announcing their relationship, Chase and I announced our engagement. But the usually aloof Justin blocked my path, his eyes red. “Back then, when you brought me water, was it just to catch a glimpse of him across the field?” 1 The comment section under that hot post exploded. [Fun??? Is the OP brain-dead? Trampling on others’ feelings like this, aren’t you afraid of karma?] [Maybe it’s a regional thing, but where I’m from, we don’t call this ‘best friends’ and ‘bros’, we call them toxic snakes.] [IP is in New York. Everyone come take a look. Having friends like this is really eight lifetimes of bad luck. Scammed by a pair!] [I feel bad for those two. They really are the Jokers in the deck.] The original poster retorted quickly. [What’s wrong with friends playing a joke? A true friend would want the best for you and bless you. If she can’t even do that, she doesn’t deserve to be my friend!] [My sister chased him for three years and couldn’t get him. I got him for her. Shouldn’t I be praised?] [Besides, rich kids like them, what do they know about true love? Once they get it, they probably just play around.] I stood at the theater entrance, the two tickets in my hand crumpled. My eyes were glued to the comments and the photo on my phone. The girl looked mischievous and lively, wearing the expensive hair clip I gave her. My best friend, Sarah, standing next to the man I had chased for three years. Even this morning, Sarah helped me with my exquisite makeup, picked out a beautiful dress, and sent me off with a smile. “If I were Justin, I’d die of love. It’s his honor to be chased by such a beauty!” I was a bit embarrassed but grinned anyway. “He must like me a little, right? Otherwise, why hasn’t he rejected me for three years? He agreed to watch the play with me this time. I’ll definitely win him over!” “What about you? Chase has been pursuing you for so long. When do you plan to get together with him?” Sarah rested her chin on her hand, looking at me with a half-smile. “I don’t know. Let’s see.” When did they get together? My eyes stung. A sense of humiliation and anger from betrayal overshadowed my sadness. Until Chase hurried over and grabbed me just as I was about to break down. “You saw it too? They’re playing us like this. Can you tolerate it?” I pouted, and tears fell instantly. If it were anyone else, I would have already called Sarah to curse Justin together. But it had to be her. “Why?” Chase stared at me for a while, his voice softening, but still tinged with mockery. “Didn’t you see? For fun.” “Summer, you’re beautiful, and I’m not bad myself. Why don’t we become a couple and slap them in the face?” “If they want to play, we’ll play with them.” I was speechless for a long time. Suddenly, my phone rang. Looking down, it was a message from Sarah. [Having fun with Justin? You look so pretty today, he must be dying of happiness!] I suddenly felt the person in front of me was a stranger. Sarah and I had been best friends who talked about everything since high school, even longer than I had known Justin. She knew how much I liked Justin, and how much I looked forward to dates with him. Every time before I went out, she would help me with my outfit and encourage me to confess my feelings. But there were always times when Justin stood me up. Just when I was about to give up, he would show a little concern, making me anxious about gain and loss. I used to think it was just his personality. Now I finally understood that on those days he stood me up… He was with my best friend. In her eyes, am I as ridiculous as a clown? I looked at Chase and said hoarsely. “Okay.” Chase’s eyes were deep, his fists clenched. “We’ll wait for the day they go public and give them a good show. Until then, you can do whatever you want.” “People who betray friends deserve to be punished.” 2 My family is well-off. After graduating from college, I bought a small condo and found a job in the city. Sarah’s family wasn’t doing well. Her parents divorced when she was in high school, and she was isolated by classmates until I transferred there. Only then was she not alone. At that time, she was terrified every day, afraid I wouldn’t eat or chat with her. My heart ached for her situation. I often listened patiently to her troubles. Over time, we became best friends. Later, we went to the same university. I fell for Justin, the “campus crush” from her department. After several “accidental” encounters, I added him on social media and also met Chase. Chase fell in love with Sarah at first sight, saying he liked her “broken” vibe, which made people want to protect her. At first, I didn’t like Chase much. I thought his face looked too much like a playboy’s, and I was afraid Sarah would get hurt. It wasn’t until he did a lot of homework earnestly that I approved of him. I promised to help him chase Sarah, and he helped me chase Justin. In college, the four of us always ate and hung out together. I shared with her the whole process from meeting Justin by chance to falling for this aloof guy bit by bit. Sarah always listened seriously and then smiled to encourage me. “You’re beautiful and have a good family background. No one wouldn’t like you. Even the fortune teller said your life would be smooth. If you like him, be brave and chase him!” She was right. I haven’t encountered many setbacks growing up. Justin was the first one. I wanted to give up countless times, but Sarah persuaded me back. She said Justin just couldn’t let go of his pride and couldn’t see his own heart clearly. But she never said Justin liked her. They got together quietly in a place I couldn’t see. Chase drove me back. We were very quiet on the way, not mentioning those two. It wasn’t until I got out of the car that Chase spoke dully. “I treat Justin as a true brother. He knows I like Sarah. Why did he do this?” “I don’t care about her that much. I just feel… if he had said earlier that he and Sarah liked each other, why would I continue to chase her? Is watching us make fools of ourselves that fun?” I couldn’t answer. “The reason isn’t important anymore. What matters is they never considered our feelings.” Now Chase stopped talking too. I went upstairs and replied to Sarah’s message. [He didn’t come.] [My relative is staying with me recently. It’s inconvenient for you to come back. You should rent a place yourself…] Before I finished typing, Sarah replied instantly. [It’s okay, baby. He probably had something to do. Don’t overthink it. Just reschedule next time. Brave girls enjoy love first.] [By the way, I won’t be back today. I’m dating someone. I’ll introduce him to you when I have time.] 3 I opened that forum post. The heat was even higher than before, but the photo had been deleted. Only Sarah’s alt account was arguing with netizens. [How did I not consider her feelings? When we got together, I didn’t tell her because I was afraid she’d be sad. I’m tired of acting for so long too.] [Don’t you think it’s torture for me to watch her chase my boyfriend? But don’t worry, my boyfriend loves me and won’t let anything happen with her.] [Today she asked my boyfriend out for dinner and got stood up. She’s probably unhappy, but he’s been with me the whole time. Afraid I’d be angry, he took me to a concert. How can I not like someone like this?] … She said a lot. I read every single one. Sarah was sure I wouldn’t be mad at her. No matter what netizens said, she retorted one by one. I suddenly doubted myself. Why did she think I would be this pushover? Not long after, Justin sent a message. [I had something to do today, so I didn’t go. Summer, let’s meet another day when we’re free.] I suddenly felt nauseous. Physically. Back when I was doing photography for a club, I fell for the handsome boy at first glance. He was feeding stray cats seriously. I subconsciously felt such a person couldn’t be bad. Later, the more we interacted, the more I liked him. I almost couldn’t see anyone else. Even if someone confessed to me, I would generously tell them I already liked someone. But now, I suddenly understood. He had been stringing me along for three years. He obviously didn’t like me, but he didn’t refuse my invitations, and even took time to perfunctorily deal with me. [Oh, no need.] I blocked him directly. I opened the chat with Chase. [Justin messaged me. He still hasn’t mentioned him and Sarah. He even just made a random excuse for standing me up. I really don’t want to have contact with him anymore.] Chase replied almost instantly. [Sarah too. I originally asked her out for a movie today. I specifically asked if she had time, she said yes, then turned around and went to a concert with Justin. I suddenly doubt what kind of thing I liked these past few years?] [Screw her ‘broken vibe,’ I’m the one who’s broken!] Reading his message, I almost laughed out loud. Sure enough, when unhappy, having someone as unlucky as yourself makes you feel much better. He sent a few screenshots of Sarah’s alt account’s social updates. Before when Chase chased her, Sarah always refused on the grounds that her family situation didn’t allow her to date. At that time, we both felt bad for her. Chase tried every way to help Sarah. Turns out, she started dating right away, and even posted pictures of the food she cooked for Justin. Looking at the lemon chicken in the picture, I was a bit dazed. I had told Sarah before about Justin’s preferences, including his love for Yunnan cuisine. [By the way, I booked a restaurant for tomorrow. It’s quite expensive. Can’t let it go to waste… How about we go?] [Okay.] 4 The next day at noon, I dressed up and went out. When I messaged Chase that I was leaving, he replied quickly. [I’m downstairs. Just come down.] Chase was driving downstairs. Seeing me come out, he smiled. Fine light haloed his brows and eyes, gentle and peaceful. Justin was always cold and distant, seeming within reach but far away. Chase, however, had a pair of peach blossom eyes and thin lips. When he looked at people, there was always a feeling of deep affection. Before, deceived by his face, I thought Chase was a playboy. After getting to know him, I realized he was actually a very sincere person. “Waited long?” Chase opened the car door and got in after I sat in the passenger seat. Hearing this, he turned to look at me: “Not long. Making a girl wait isn’t very gentlemanly. My mom would beat me if she knew.” I couldn’t help laughing. He laughed too. The atmosphere was much more relaxed. Chase told me about the restaurant we were going to today. “I did a lot of research online. Always wanted to eat there. Originally it was a mid-to-high-end brand, but unexpectedly on opening day, it accidentally matched a couple.” “It spread online and became a must-visit spot for couples. Hard to book.” I looked at him excitedly. “I think I know which one you’re talking about! I’ve always wanted to go too! If nothing else, that crab roe pastry looks amazing…” Chase’s voice suddenly rose, surprised: “Right? I wanted to try that too.” “One of life’s great joys, eating, drinking, and having fun.” I nodded with emotion. The first time I asked Justin out for dinner, he was reluctant. Justin said time should be spent on meaningful things. I was a bit embarrassed then, but Sarah helped me out. She pointed at Justin angrily. “How is eating not meaningful? I don’t care, you must eat with Summer today. I’ll watch you eat!” At that time, Justin was confused by the scolding and followed us in a daze. I even thanked Sarah specifically after returning. If not for her, I might not have been able to step down. Later while eating, Justin suddenly said: “I apologize for what I said that day. Eating is indeed meaningful, especially with interesting people.” At that time, I thought he meant me and blushed. Thinking about it now, Justin’s gaze didn’t seem to fall on me. He didn’t dislike eating, he just disliked eating with me. Two people on different frequencies probably won’t be happy together. Chase saw I stopped talking and talked about his embarrassing incident doing extreme sports with friends. “They all laughed at me, but I’m really afraid of heights! Who understands? Later Sarah knew I was afraid of heights and said I was an arrogant rich kid, useless and temperamental. Good Lord, I’m wronged!” I nodded seriously, drank a mouthful of the mineral water he placed next to my seat, and then spoke. “Fear of heights is normal. I’m afraid of the dark too. Listened to too many ghost stories when I was little. Now I have to sleep with a night light on!” Chatting along, we arrived at the place. Getting out of the car and walking into a garden restaurant, just as we stepped in, we saw Sarah with a brilliant smile, standing next to a doting Justin. “Heard this place is delicious, I booked it specifically in advance.” Chase’s face instantly became very ugly. I frowned, “Sarah, Justin?” Sarah turned around and saw us. Her smile froze, and she subconsciously moved away from Justin. Then she looked at me and Chase, her expression subtle, slowly pursing her lips. “Why are you here?” An accusatory tone. A nameless fire rose in my heart. Looking at this best friend since childhood, I suddenly felt it was extremely meaningless. So I said lightly. “You can be here, why can’t Chase and I be here?”

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1 The specialized drug I developed was exposed by my own husband, General Dylan Croft, for its addictive side effects. After that, I quietly left the military and took a humanitarian mission on a volatile border, telling no one. Ten years later, I saw him again during a documentary interview. The host pushed a microphone toward me. “Dr. Vance, General Croft hasn’t remarried in ten years. The world is waiting for you two to reunite!” As soon as he finished, Dylan walked in. In his perfect dress uniform, he still looked strikingly handsome—the youthful fire replaced by a calm, commanding presence. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, a thousand unsaid words passed between us. But all that came out was a quiet, hollow greeting. “Aria. It’s been a long time.” “Yes. A long time.” My reply was flat, my face still. Ten years ago, the hemostatic agent I created was found to cause severe addiction. Soldiers became dependent for life. My career and reputation were ruined. My own father disowned me. Soldiers’ families stormed my lab and threw acid in my face. But no one knew the truth: that ten years ago, Dylan let his mistress tamper with the formula for profit, and when it blew up, he let me take the blame. … Dr. Matthews, the head of the medical station, rushed forward to greet him, his excitement making him clumsy. “General Croft! It’s a true honor to have you visit our border station!” Seeing me tending to a wounded soldier, Dr. Matthews called out, “Dr. Vance, come and say hello to the General! He’s the youngest general in the armed forces. We’re lucky to have him here!” My hands paused over the gauze, but I didn’t look up. The reporters, however, sensed a story and swarmed me. “Dr. Vance, so this is where you’ve been! You were once the DoD’s most brilliant pharmaceutical expert. How does it feel to be a field nurse, giving shots and hanging IVs? Is it a big step down?” “We hear your ex-husband has been waiting for you all this time, even postponing his wedding. What are your thoughts on that?” I ignored the microphones practically touching my face and continued my work, but I couldn’t stop my hand from trembling as I reached for a vial of medicine. I knew Dylan’s methods too well. I didn’t believe a word of his supposed “devotion.” My guard was up. The tense standoff was broken when Dylan strode over, using his body to shield me from the cameras. “This is a private matter between my ex-wife and me. There will be no interviews today. Please leave.” He turned to me, his gaze a complex storm of emotions. “Aria.” He hesitated, finally just repeating himself. “It’s been a long time.” Hearing his voice again after so many years, my hand jerked. CRASH! The vial slipped from my grasp, shattering on the concrete floor. Glass and medicine sprayed everywhere. A shard sliced my hand, and a bead of blood welled up, dripping from my fingertip. Dylan immediately grabbed my hand. “How could you be so careless?” I snatched my hand back and turned to Dr. Matthews. “Sir, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean this up immediately. Please deduct the cost of the vial from my salary.” Just then, a soft, feminine voice drifted from the doorway. “Dylan, darling, what are you doing here?” “You left the base so suddenly. Your parents and I were worried sick!” I looked up. Isabelle Thorne smiled as she walked in, possessively linking her arm through Dylan’s and giving him a light kiss on the lips. She was the one. The person who had secretly altered the formula for ‘Hemostop’ ten years ago, causing the addiction scandal. And now, she was Dylan’s fiancée. Behind her stood Robert and Eleanor Vance—my parents, who had cut ties with me a decade ago. Isabelle’s eyes landed on me, and she smirked. “Dr. Vance. Long time no see.” “Oh, by the way, your parents have adopted me as their goddaughter now. I suppose that makes me your sister, doesn’t it?” I looked at my parents. They had aged so much. Their hair was completely white, their postures stooped. A sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart. What would they think if they knew this precious ‘goddaughter’ was the very person who sent their real daughter to prison? My father’s gaze was like ice. “We only have one daughter, and it’s Isabelle. The sight of a criminal who would poison our own soldiers for profit makes me sick.” My mother added, her voice tight with anger, “Dylan, what are you doing talking to this piece of trash? It would be best for everyone if she just died out here on the border.” Their words hung in the air, and suddenly every eye in the medical station was on me, filled with suspicion and contempt. I turned away, swallowing the pain, unable to meet their gazes. Dylan sighed. “Don’t blame your parents. What happened back then was a huge blow to them.” He handed me a gold-embossed business card. “I owe you so much. Call me if you ever need anything.” I took the card, not out of acceptance, but with the same polite detachment I would show a patient. I placed it on a nearby table without a second glance. I didn’t believe for a second that Dylan had found me by chance, and I wanted nothing more to do with him. Three days later, my phone rang. It was Dr. Matthews. “Dr. Vance, I am so, so sorry…” he stammered. “I had no idea you were a specialist from the DoD. It was wrong of us to have you working here.” “I’ve marked you down for full attendance this month, and your salary is being wired to you now. Please… don’t come in tomorrow.” Before I could reply, he hung up. I tried calling back, but he had already blocked my number. A moment later, a text came through from my bank: a deposit of $4,500. It was $1,000 more than my usual salary. A note followed: [The extra thousand is for your trouble. We’re a small station. Please, don’t come back.] I knew immediately it was Dylan’s doing. Sure enough, he called moments later. “Aria, I can’t overturn the conviction, but I will compensate you in other ways.” “Being a field medic is too hard on you. I’ve already arranged for you to quit. I bought you a villa in Seaport City. You can move in right away. Isabelle is working at the Military Medical Research Command now, but she’s not as skilled as you. I want you to assist her. The salary is two hundred thousand a month.” My fists clenched so tightly my knuckles cracked. How dare he? How dare he shove me into the abyss, force me to bear the world’s scorn, and then, after I’d lost everyone, reappear like a savior to shatter the peace I had found? How dare he think he had the right to orchestrate my life? Helping Isabelle was just a prettier way of saying he wanted me to be her ghostwriter, her shadow. His words made my stomach turn. I forced my voice to remain steady. “Thank you for the offer, General, but I have my own life. Please don’t contact me again.” There was a long silence on the other end. “Aria, don’t be stubborn. A genius like you only belongs in a lab. I’m offering you a life of comfort where you can do what you love. What more could you want?” “If you continue to refuse, I’ll have to do this my way.” He hung up, leaving a cold knot of dread in my stomach. That afternoon, I found out what his “way” was. With my job gone, I started looking for work to make ends meet. But everywhere I went, it was the same story. No matter how desperate they were for staff, the moment I applied, they would politely but firmly turn me down. Defeated, I returned to my small rented room, only to find my landlady, Mrs. Gable, waiting for me outside. She was a kind old woman. When I first arrived with no money, she had let me stay for a month rent-free and often brought me food. Now, her eyes were red and swollen. “Aria, you’re back…” “I’m so sorry, dear. I can’t rent this room to you anymore. Please don’t be angry with me, I have no choice.” “Some important people from the city came by. They said if I keep letting you stay here, my daughter… my daughter will lose her job in Seaport City…” She broke down, sobbing. I couldn’t bear to cause her more trouble. I packed my bags and left that night. So this was Dylan’s “compensation.” Destroy everything I had, then arrogantly offer me his charity. How pathetic. 2 The day I was forced out of the medical station, Dylan Croft appeared in the small town where I was staying. He looked thinner than he had a few days ago, with dark circles under his eyes, but the stars on his shoulders were as sharp as ever. He arrived with an entire squad of soldiers. He calmly directed them to pack up my few belongings, acting as if we had never divorced, as if he were simply a husband picking up his wife after her tour of duty. At the house he’d arranged for me on the military base, he handed me a glass of warm milk. “You always did have a tendency to get stressed. This will help you sleep.” I took the glass in silence and took a small sip. It was rich, so rich it made me tremble. Just like his so-called compensation—thoughtful on the surface, but a poison that set my teeth on edge. I put the glass down and met his eyes. “General Croft, let the past stay in the past. If you truly want to make amends, you’ll leave me alone.” He flinched, a flicker of darkness in his eyes. “Aria, don’t be difficult. I know you’re not satisfied. This is just the first step. I’ll have my people at the Pentagon work on your case. We’ll get your military status reinstated eventually.” “I know you don’t like Isabelle. I’ll make sure she stays away. For now, just rest.” His tone was gentle, but every word was an order. He wanted me under his thumb, completely under his control. But Isabelle was never one to follow orders. The day after I moved in, she barged in with a crowd of military journalists. “Dylan, darling! I heard Dr. Vance was here. Why didn’t you tell me?” She turned to the cameras. “Dr. Vance was the one primarily responsible for the ‘Hemostop’ incident, but she has served her time. I hope she has learned her lesson and will continue to contribute to military medicine!” The true culprit, spouting shameless lies for the cameras. She then handed me a credit card. “This is just a little something from me. You’re a senior scientist, and my fiancé’s ex-wife. Please, you must take it. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask!” Her performance was flawless. That night, the news spread like wildfire across internal military networks: [‘HEMOSTOP’ MASTERMIND RETURNS, EX-HUSBAND GENERAL CROFT PROVIDES CHARITABLE SUPPORT!] [VICTIMS’ FAMILIES PROTEST RELEASE OF JAILED SCIENTIST!] Overnight, Dylan became the righteous, devoted general, and Isabelle his magnanimous fiancée. And I was once again thrown to the wolves, the target of everyone’s hatred. Whether it was intentional or not, Isabelle leaked my address. From then on, protesters gathered outside the military compound every day, holding signs and shouting curses. Families of the victims, angry citizens. Just three days later, my parents arrived. It was the first time they had sought me out in ten years. When I saw Robert and Eleanor Vance standing at my door, a foolish sliver of hope rose in my chest. “Dad? Mom? You’re here. Please, come in.” But my father just stared at me coldly. “Hmph. We wouldn’t dare step inside a murderer’s house.” My mother leaned against the doorframe, her face weary. “Aria, we can never forgive what you did. You can’t keep making mistakes. Isabelle truly loves Dylan. Since you’re divorced, you need to stop bothering him.” “Isabelle is too kind to say this herself, so we have to be the bad guys. You need to leave this place. If you refuse, your father and I will have to find a way to make you leave.” Her voice was as gentle as I remembered, the same voice that had sung me to sleep as a child. But now, every word was a poisoned dagger, tearing me apart. I stared at them in disbelief. “Dad, Mom… did you ever, even for a second, believe me? What if I told you everything that happened was Isabelle’s fault?” SLAP! Before I could finish, my father’s hand struck my face. “You insolent girl! How dare you slander Isabelle, even now!” Dylan, who had just arrived with groceries, saw what happened and rushed forward to intervene. Just then, his phone rang. It was his aide. “General, sir, it’s bad! Ms. Thorne drank too much at the celebration banquet. They’re pumping her stomach at the military hospital!” At the news, Dylan and my parents panicked. Without another word, they jumped into their car and sped off. I watched the car disappear, a bitter laugh escaping my lips as tears streamed down my face. It turned out that my pain, my humiliation, meant nothing compared to Isabelle having one too many drinks. I thought that was the end of it. Ten years had taught me not to expect anything from my parents or from Dylan. But I never imagined what their “way” of making me leave would be. I was out shopping for supplies when several of the victims’ family members recognized me. The butt of a rifle slammed into the back of my head, and everything went black. When I woke up, I was inside a burlap sack. Through the rough weave, I could see we were by the river on the outskirts of the city. The leader, a man named Ryan, kicked me hard in the stomach. “You damn monster. How dare you show your face in Seaport City again!” His words ignited the others. “Give me back my son! He was only twenty-two! He’d just been promoted to Captain!” “It’s all your fault! Your poison ruined my husband’s life! I want you dead!” Fists and feet rained down on me. I tried to explain, but my mouth was gagged, and all that came out were muffled cries. When they grew tired, Ryan spoke again. “You owe us so many lives. Death is too good for you. Today, you’re going to pay your debt in blood.” I heard the whistle of a steel pipe cutting through the air, followed by an explosion of agony. Ninety-nine blows. I passed out again and again, only to be woken by splashes of cold water. I felt each bone crack, heard each sickening snap. Finally, as my consciousness faded, they tied me to a large stone and threw me into the river. The icy water rushed in from all sides, the crushing pressure in my lungs threatening to tear me apart. I closed my eyes in despair, ready for the end. Maybe it was for the best. This life had been too hard, too painful. It was time to rest. Just as my world was about to go dark, a strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me up. Fresh air rushed back into my lungs…

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At the parent-teacher conference, the teacher asked kids to grade their parents and explain. My son’s note reached me, with two lines in childish handwriting: “Dad, 100 points. Aunty, 100 points.” “Mom, 2 points. I hate you. You rooined my family.” Still too young to spell “ruined” right, he already knew how to blame his mother. After the meeting, I was the only parent kept behind. When I finally left at sunset, my son was gone. As I searched, a familiar voice cut through the dusk. “You should never have fought for Dylan, Avery. You can’t make him happy.” I looked up. My ex-husband, Grant, held our son, his face tense. “Unless you beg me to take you back—” Before he finished, Sienna stepped in softly, smiling. “Avery, you still haven’t paid Dylan’s tuition, have you? I’d gladly take care of him.” I stayed silent, looking at the son I’d raised for nine years. He hid behind Sienna, staring at me as if I’d ruin his “family” again. Years of weariness finally crested. The last of my stubbornness dissolved. I nodded, my voice eerily calm. “Fine.” 1 “You can have custody. We’ll sign the papers in the next couple of days. The sooner, the better.” The autumn wind in the north was biting. A stray leaf spun and landed at a stunned Grant’s feet. I pulled my coat tighter, my gaze lowered. “Let Sienna be his mother from now on. It’s what Dylan wants.” Dylan jumped up, a whoop of joy on his lips, but a single dark look from his father silenced him. That’s strange, he must have thought. Dad and Aunty Sienna get along so well. Why isn’t he happy? “Why?” Grant took a step forward, a furious, unreadable emotion simmering in his voice. “You would rather give up our son than ask me for help, just once?” I didn’t answer. I walked toward the Maybach parked at the curb. “Let’s go. I’ll pack up his things.” I reached for the passenger door out of habit, then stopped myself. I took a step back and got into the back seat. Grant’s eyes went cold. Sienna slid into the passenger seat with an apologetic smile. “So sorry, Avery, dear. I hope you don’t mind sitting in the back. It’s just, I’m so particular, and Grant has the seat adjusted just right for me.” She shot a meaningful glance at Grant. “Honestly, Avery, if you wanted to come back to the family, you didn’t have to use your son as an excuse. Why go through all this trouble?” “You gave him back this time,” she purred. “Next time… will you be giving yourself back?” The familiar digs, the veiled insults. I turned to look out the window. It was getting dark. The car pulled into a run-down neighborhood. I got out, went up the stairs, and unlocked my door. Before I could even step inside, Sienna gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Avery, darling… you live here?” Grant’s eyes scanned the tiny apartment, his expression a mixture of emotions that quickly hardened into disapproval. “I send our son to a private academy, and you have him living in a place like this?” In just six short years, I had gone from being the youngest head surgeon at the city’s top hospital, to a home-care aide for the elderly, to a woman so disgraced that no private clinic would even look at my resume. The meager salary I earned from my part-time job at a convenience store was just enough to cover the rent on this two-hundred-dollar-a-month room. But that was all about to end. Dylan had a lot of things, but there were very few he actually liked. I sorted through his belongings, packing only a small box. I told him to eat well, to go to bed on time, to listen to his father. I held the box out to Grant. He didn’t take it. Sienna did, and was about to say something when— SLAM. Grant shut the door, leaving her and Dylan in the hallway. He stared at me for a long time. Then, a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Is this really necessary, Avery?” he asked, his voice low and amused. He stepped closer, twisting a strand of my hair around his finger. “I get it. You can’t live without your son, but you’re too proud to beg. So you came up with this little scheme, this feigned surrender, to give me an opening…” He produced a document from somewhere. “Here. I’ve had the marriage certificate ready for a while now. All you have to do is swallow that pride of yours, sign on the dotted line, and we can go back to how things were.” 2 The way things were. In Grant’s memory, it was always perfect. That year, I had just returned from a fellowship abroad and started at the city’s main hospital. On my first day, a patient’s family member took a doctor hostage with a knife, claiming malpractice. The room went silent. The patient’s case was complex, the surgery incredibly high-risk. No one dared to step forward. I did. “I’ll do it,” I said. Afterward, Grant asked to see me. He was the young heir to a medical tech empire, newly in charge, and this was his first major crisis. He looked me over with a smile. “Dr. Caldwell, you’re very brave.” “It’s not about bravery,” I replied calmly. “As long as there is a sliver of hope, I will never give up on a life.” I paused. “And I was confident I could do it.” A light sparked in Grant’s eyes. He stared at me for a long moment, then smiled. The next day, when 9,999 roses were delivered to my office, I understood what that smile had meant. His pursuit was relentless. When he realized I wasn’t impressed by grand romantic gestures, he changed his strategy. He brought a state-of-the-art medical research project to our hospital, complete with a three-million-dollar suite of equipment for my exclusive use. After my late-night surgeries, he would always be there with a warm bowl of soup. He patiently listened to my mother’s stories, fixed her broken appliances, and found specialists to treat her old ailments. He was direct about his intentions. He told me he would marry no one else. But he did it in a way that showed my mother his sincerity. Finally, she sighed. “You’re not getting any younger, Avery. It’s time to settle down.” “Grant is a good man. He’s practical, and he knows how to care for someone. I think he’s the one who can give you a home.” So I said yes. Our marriage was a transaction. He needed a wife with a spotless reputation to help him clean up his playboy image. I needed a boost for my career, and… a little bit of warmth. On our first anniversary, Grant had a little too much to drink. He pinned me to the bed, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. “All that stuff about my past… you knew, didn’t you?” “I did,” I said. For a moment, I found him endearing. He buried his face in my neck and bit me, hard. “Then why weren’t you angry? Why weren’t you jealous?” I don’t remember exactly what I said, something about how his future was all that mattered to me. What I do remember is the look on his face when I showed him the positive pregnancy test. He was so happy he looked ridiculous. This proud, arrogant man just held me and kept repeating, “Thank you… thank you…” No one knows better than a doctor the irreversible damage childbirth does to a woman’s body. But I wanted to have a child with him. And Grant was truly grateful. So grateful that the very next day, he slept with his new assistant. When I caught them, he was still half-asleep, a frown on his face. “You’re pregnant. How am I supposed to take care of my needs?” 3 For the three years after our divorce, every time I saw Dylan, Grant would ask if I wanted to get back together. My answer was always the same. Eventually, he lost his patience. He used his connections to blacklist me from every medical facility in the city, trying to force my hand. This time, I nodded. Grant froze, a look of disbelief on his face. “You… you agree?” He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “So you were just playing hard to get. Fine. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. We’ll go to the city hall.” I shook my head and stated my condition. “The day Dylan calls me ‘Mom’ again is the day I marry you.” Grant wasn’t angry. He chuckled. “Still hung up on that? Fine. Let him live with me. I guarantee he’ll be calling you Mom within three days.” His lawyer sent over the custody transfer agreement. The moment my digital signature was on the document, Grant smiled, grabbed my chin, and kissed me, hard. “You’re most agreeable when you’re obedient, Avery.” “City hall. Three days. Don’t be late.” I watched his car speed away, then wiped my lips until they were pale. He didn’t know that I had only ever lied twice in my life. Once, today. And once, when I forgave him for cheating. That year, when I went to the hospital for an abortion, Grant stopped me. He was frantic, as if he never imagined I would be so resolute. “Avery, I was drunk. It was a mistake. Please, just forgive me this once. I swear, it will never happen again!” I had heard the rumors before we were married. Grant was a notorious womanizer. But after our wedding, he had been a model husband. He knelt in front of everyone and begged me, tears in his eyes. In that moment, my resolve wavered. “Fine,” I heard myself lie. “I forgive you.” The assistant was fired. We never heard from her again. When Dylan was born, Grant acted like he had been given the greatest treasure in the world. He bought out every firework vendor in the city and set them off for two weeks straight. With our son as a bond, we had a few years of peaceful, happy life. Until it was time for Dylan to start preschool. Grant said my work schedule was too demanding and that we should hire a private tutor. The tutor he brought home was Sienna. The moment she spoke, I knew. She was the assistant he had fired. The rage was so overwhelming I thought I would be sick. I slapped Grant across the face and screamed at him to get out. After I had smashed half the furniture in our house, I grabbed a crying Dylan and tried to leave. Grant watched, his face a cold mask. He ordered the staff to restrain me. Then, inch by inch, he pried my fingers from our son’s arm and placed him in Sienna’s embrace. He looked at me with a cruel smile. “When will you understand, Avery? People in our class don’t have just one person.” “I always thought you were smart enough to figure that out. I guess I was wrong. You’ve been a real disappointment.” From that day on, I was forbidden to see Dylan. Grant wanted me to apologize, to be like the other society wives and accept my husband’s infidelities. I refused. At the height of our war, I leaked their explicit photos and stabbed him in the arm with a scalpel. Grant, who had never known a day of real pain, looked so panicked at the sight of his own blood. I felt a grim satisfaction. I think I hated him then. Hated him for not being able to love only me. 4 After packing, I terminated my lease, quit my job, and collected my final paycheck. By the time I was done, it was the third day. I bought a ticket for an international flight leaving that night. When I opened my door to leave, Sienna was standing there. Her outfit was simple, but on closer inspection, even her belt was a limited edition piece from the latest collection. She had done well for herself. “I’d give up on the idea of remarrying him if I were you, Avery.” Sienna’s lips curved into a sneer. “You really think using your son as a bargaining chip will get you back into the family? Dylan only thinks of me as his mother now. And as for Grant…” “He might feel a little guilty, but men get bored so easily. Do you really think he’s still interested in a washed-up ex-wife?” She leaned in, her voice a low hiss. “Don’t forget, you have nothing now. And I have a thousand ways to make sure you stay out of this family for good.” A dull ache spread through my chest. I remembered the day I left the Thorne family home for good. To break my spirit, Grant had me transferred from surgery to the geriatric ward, where I cared for dementia patients. As I was cleaning a bedpan, Sienna cornered me. She looked down at the filth on my hands, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “So this is what you’ve been reduced to.” “Tell me, if you couldn’t perform surgery anymore… would you be stuck here cleaning up after old people for the rest of your life?” She shoved me, and her stiletto heel came down hard on my right hand. The heel ground into my flesh. The pain was so intense I thought I heard the bones snap. But that wasn’t the worst of it. My mother was in a car accident. Her life was hanging by a thread. I ran into the ER, begging them to operate, but no one would touch her. Grant stood at the end of the hall, watching with cold indifference. “Just admit you were wrong,” he said, his voice calm, yet cruel. “And I’ll get the best doctors for her.” I was too stubborn to give in. I went into the operating room myself. But my mother’s blood was too warm, my hands were shaking too violently. I was too slow… I couldn’t save her. In that moment, a part of me died with her. The hate was gone. It was really gone. For the next six months, I fought Grant for custody of our son. I gave up everything I had for a child who had already grown distant from me. Every time Dylan cried and said he wanted to leave, I thought this tragedy was my fault, a result of my own stubbornness. It was only after countless sleepless nights that I understood. It was the cruelty in Grant’s love that had brought our marriage to this point. He loved me, so he kept coming back. But his love was selfish, laced with a need for control and a deep-seated contempt. It was all over now. I looked at Sienna, and for the first time, I felt nothing but a quiet pity. I offered her my sincere blessing. “I hope your novelty lasts a little longer for him this time.” Her face darkened, and she started spewing insults. I didn’t say another word. I called a cab and went straight to the airport. On the way, a familiar voice called, as gentle as ever. “What time does your flight land? I’ll pick you up.” “You’re not going to change your mind again, are you?” “No,” I said, my voice firm. “Not this time.” I had nothing left. There was nothing left to keep me here. On the other side of the city, Grant didn’t sleep a wink. When his alarm went off at 7:30, he shot out of bed and drove to my apartment building. He started to go up, then thought better of it. He didn’t want to seem too eager. He went back to his car and tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. The city hall opens in an hour, he thought. Almost there.

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On the day of the SATs, the most popular girl in school found out the billionaire’s son was stranded in the suburbs. She forced the school bus driver to turn around and launch a rescue mission. In my past life, I called the police immediately and stopped her. The whole class arrived on time, aced the test, and got into top universities. But the next day, news broke that the billionaire’s son was engaged—to the girl who had rescued him. My classmate, furious, kidnapped me and dragged me to the rooftop. “You ruined my chance to marry into billions! You ruined my life!” She pushed me off the edge. I died instantly. After my death, the police interviewed my classmates. To their surprise, everyone defended her. “We weren’t going to be late. She ruined Chloe’s dream. Anyone would snap.” “She was always meddling. She deserved it.” Because of their testimony, Chloe got a light sentence. She became an internet sensation, dubbed the “Warrior for Love,” and made a fortune after her release. When I opened my eyes, I was back on that bus. Back to the moment Chloe demanded the driver turn around. This time, I smiled brightly. “Go for it,” I said. “Chase that love. The SATs are nothing compared to true romance.” 1 Even after becoming a wealthy influencer, Chloe wasn’t satisfied. She hired thugs to kidnap my parents. She tortured them until their chests caved in, soaking the floor in blood. Then she stepped on my father’s face. “If your daughter hadn’t ruined my chance, I’d be Mrs. Vance right now! The envy of everyone!” “She’s dead, but she wasted five years of my youth. A father paying for his daughter’s debt seems fair, right?” She pushed them from the eighth floor. They died in agony while she watched, filming it for the dark web. My soul hovered above, screaming, tearing at the air, powerless. Then, everything went black. “Claire, what’s your problem? This bus isn’t yours. Who are you to tell the driver not to turn around?” I blinked, standing in the aisle of the bus. Chloe was glaring at me, eyes burning with fury. “Julian Vance is the richest heir in the state. Do you know how many kidnappers are out there? Every second counts!” “You’re heartless. Even if you get into Harvard, you’ll still be a scumbag.” “Besides, no one else is objecting. Majority rules, understand?” The driver had slowed the bus to a crawl. He chimed in with a smile. “Don’t worry, miss. It’s a small city. Thirty minutes round trip to the suburbs. We won’t be late.” That assumed no traffic. But today was the SATs. Every street near a testing center was gridlocked with anxious parents. Add the mandatory fifteen-minute check-in buffer, and one wrong turn meant missing the test entirely. In my last life, I argued until my throat was raw because I didn’t want my classmates to risk their futures. I never thought my reward would be a gruesome death. Seeing my silence, Chloe scoffed. “We’re the honors class. Even if we have fifteen minutes less, we can finish the test.” “Ask them. Who here wasn’t planning on finishing thirty minutes early anyway? Without us, the test can’t even start.” The other students checked their watches, swayed by the driver’s confidence. “Every mock exam, our class ranks first in the city.” “Even if we’re late, the proctors will understand. We’re saving a life.” “Acting like a class monitor on test day? Gross.” They knew we were just first in this city. The Ivy League acceptance rate doesn’t care about city rankings. It’s a slaughterhouse. I wanted to warn them. But the memory of their twisted faces defending my murderer made me shiver. My heart hardened into ice. I looked up and flashed a brilliant smile. “You guys are right. Since everyone agrees, you should go.” 2 Chloe narrowed her eyes, suspicious of my quick surrender. “You… you’re really not going to stop me?” I nodded and ignored her. I grabbed my bag and stood up. “I’m getting off.” The driver slammed the brakes, nearly rear-ending a sedan. “Miss, you can’t get a cab here easily. Walking will tire you out. How will you take the test?” “Trust me. We’ll save him and be back. You won’t be late.” I shook my head. “You guys go save your hero. I don’t need to be involved.” As I moved toward the door, the driver raised his voice. “Don’t be rash! The teachers and parents are following in cars behind us. If you get off now, what about the others?” The class looked out the windows. Sure enough, a caravan of cars was tailing us. They honked in support. Phones buzzed across the bus. Ding-ding-ding. Parents and teachers texting: Are you nervous? Is everything okay? Chloe typed a quick reply in the class group chat. Everything’s fine! Just hyping each other up on the bus. Relaxing before the test. She looked up at the class. “Don’t tell your parents about this. They won’t understand. If they find out, we’ll get yelled at, and the concert trip will be cancelled!” Before the exams, Chloe claimed she knew a guy who could get cheap tickets to see a pop superstar. Everyone signed up. But the concert was in a sketchy border town notorious for trafficking. I had warned them not to go, and they ostracized me for it. To this day, they were planning the trip behind my back. The students who were about to text their parents put their phones down. But a few of the timid ones were getting cold feet. “If my mom finds out I was late for the SATs, she’ll skin me alive.” “Thirty-five minutes left… round trip is cutting it close. Maybe we shouldn’t go.” “Saving someone is dangerous. Let’s just call the police.” Murmurs of agreement rippled through the bus. But the bold ones sneered. “Look at you cowards. Embarrassing the honors class.” “Twenty of us here. We are the city’s admissions stats. Even if we’re late, they’ll open a VIP lane for us.” “Exactly. They can’t punish all of us. Plus, we’re saving a life. This will be on the news!” I almost laughed. They were so used to being coddled by teachers for their grades that they had lost touch with reality. The SATs weren’t just about them. They were about the sacrifices of every parent in those cars behind us. Seeing the hesitation, Chloe posted an image to the group chat. The bus exploded with excitement. “Sixty million dollar reward?! That’s two million each! Why take the test? Let’s go!” “If this is true, Chloe is our golden ticket!” “Of course it’s true. Chloe has connections. She’s going to be a star after graduation.” “Where are the cowards now? Get off the bus so we get a bigger share!” 3 I checked my phone. Chloe had posted a “Missing Person” bounty for Julian Vance. It looked professional. If I hadn’t lived through this once and known Julian was never missing, I might have believed it. Chloe’s “connections” were just some shady guys she met at a club. She slept her way into a low-budget commercial for a gambling site. Her classmates hyped it up as “modeling” and “debuting.” Blinded by greed, the doubters fell silent. The driver saw his chance. He swerved down a side road, losing the caravan of parents. “Wow, big reward? Lucky day for me! Driving a bus full of geniuses and getting rich?” “This is a shortcut to the suburbs. Thirty minutes round trip, easy.” “Get the money, ace the test. You kids are winners!” The class couldn’t hide their grins, already spending the money in their heads. But the driver’s behavior was suspicious. I checked my watch. Twenty-five minutes to the start. I couldn’t save them. I had to save myself. I marched to the front and banged on the plexiglass partition. “Let me off! I don’t want to save anyone, and I don’t want the money!” I glanced at his ID badge. Frank Miller. Chloe’s last name was Miller. A puzzle piece clicked. In my last life, Chloe didn’t stop until I called the cops. She was unusually persistent. She and the driver must have known each other. They were in on it together. The driver ignored me, accelerating. We were getting farther from the test center. My voice trembled. “Let me off! Or I’m calling the police!” They treated the test like a joke, but I didn’t. I came from a poor family. I was the first person in generations with a shot at an Ivy. Relatives called my parents lucky. But I wasn’t a genius. My bedroom was filled with used pens and practice tests. Calluses on my fingers. Worsening eyesight. My mom waking up at 4 AM to make breakfast. My dad driving me to school in snowstorms. This test was the culmination of eighteen years. I would not fail. The driver didn’t stop. Desperate, I pulled a compass from my pocket and pressed the sharp point against his neck. “Let me off!” The bus gasped. “Whoa, Claire… too far. Just let her off if she wants.” The driver, sweating, slammed on the brakes. Chloe stormed over and snatched my phone. “You can go, but the phone stays. In case you call the cops.” We were nearing the outskirts. Few cars passed here. Without a phone, I couldn’t call a ride. Twenty minutes left. I couldn’t run back in time. I glared at her. “Fine. I promise I won’t call.” “I don’t care about your business. I just want to take the test…” Before I finished, Chloe threw my phone out the window. The door opened. She grabbed my admission ticket and ripped it in half. “Penalty for being a traitor. Now get lost.” I stared in shock, then scrambled off the bus to retrieve my phone and ticket. The phone screen was shattered black. The ticket was confetti. Through the window, my classmates flipped me off. “Thought you wanted to take the test? Run, Forrest, run!” “Embarrassing. Don’t say you were in the honors class.” “Let’s give her a handicap. See if she can score above zero.” 4 Their mockery faded as the bus sped away, splashing mud on my uniform. I watched them disappear toward the horizon, a strange sense of relief washing over me. Laugh while you can. Soon, you’ll be crying, and no one will be able to help you. I tapped my smartwatch and called my mom. In my last life, they took my phone, but they didn’t know about the watch. My mom didn’t ask questions. She heard the panic in my voice and turned the car around immediately. She told my dad to go to the print shop and get a new ticket. Meanwhile, the principal, teachers, and other parents had just arrived at the school. Confused by the missing bus, they received my dad’s call. The principal nearly fainted. “What? They went to rescue someone? On SAT day? Are they insane?!” “Call the suburban police! Get them back now!” Parents collapsed, wailing. “Who talked my son into this? I’ll kill them!” “My daughter is so sensible, she wouldn’t do this! The bus must be stuck in traffic!” “Don’t just stand there! Find them!” Parents jumped back into their cars, racing toward the suburbs. The commotion attracted the media stationed at the school. “A rescue mission during the SATs? Are these kids geniuses or idiots?” “I’ve been a reporter for twenty years. Never seen anyone skip the SATs to play hero. Is it a hijacking?” “Follow them! Hijacking or heroics, this is front-page news!” Reporters piled into vans and followed the parents. I arrived at the test center just as they were leaving. I checked my watch. 9:00 AM. The drive to the suburbs was at least thirty-five minutes one way. They were done for. My dad was waiting at the gate with a fresh admission ticket. He cried when he saw me. “Claire, thank god you’re smart. Thank god.” I felt their fear. They had spent eighteen years preparing for this moment. My teacher looked at me with teary eyes. “Do your best. You’re the only hope for our class now.” I walked into the exam hall, calmed my mind, and focused on every question. Halfway through the test, wailing erupted outside the gates. “It’s only an hour late! Why can’t we go in?” “We are the city’s pride! Future Ivy Leaguers! You can’t ruin our lives!” “Open the gate! Can you take responsibility for ruining our futures?!”

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It was midnight when I saw the post from the campus heartthrob: [M21] Been online dating this girl for three months. We’re supposed to meet up soon, but I found out she weighs 200lbs. What do I do? The top comment was absolutely savage: [Give the account and the girl to someone you hate. Let two losers deal with each other.] The heartthrob happily accepted the advice. I couldn’t help but shake my head. Thank god my boyfriend isn’t trash like that. Not long after, I was on a sweet date with my boyfriend when the heartthrob suddenly stormed up to us, pointed at my guy, and screamed: “You son of a b*tch! That account was mine! I should be Lucy’s boyfriend! Give her back, account and all!” Chapter 1 I was just about to go to sleep when the Reddit thread caught my eye. I instantly clicked because I recognized the username. It was VarsityBrad—Brad Miller, the star quarterback of our university. I couldn’t believe a guy like that was online dating. Brad was currently venting in the post: [VarsityBrad]: I swear to god, she told me she was 5’6″ and looked like a model. I believed her for three whole months! [VarsityBrad]: I forgot to ask for her weight! [VarsityBrad]: I ordered her DoorDash today and asked the driver to scope it out. The driver said a literal tank came down to get the food. Legs thicker than my waist, looked like a side of beef. Every time I think about calling that ‘babe’ for three months, I want to yeet myself off a bridge! The comments were all laughing at him: [User1]: You got too attached to an online fling. One photo exchange would have humbled you. [User2]: Fate really loves playing tricks on shallow people. Brad was spiraling: [VarsityBrad]: It’s not just a trick anymore. I promised we’d meet up next week. I’d rather fight a bear than meet her now! What a coincidence. My boyfriend and I also agreed to meet next week. I switched back to Discord. My chat with my online boyfriend, X, was still paused from the evening. X: Heading into the engineering lab tonight. Don’t wait up. It was almost ten. I messaged him: Me: Babe, are you still working? Me: I just saw a thread on Reddit that made me so mad! Chapter 2 He must have been busy because he didn’t reply for a long time. I knew they weren’t allowed phones in the secure labs, so I didn’t stress. I went back to scrolling the thread. In that short time, Brad had posted several more comments, and they were getting nasty: [VarsityBrad]: Ugh, the tank won’t leave me alone. She keeps texting me. [VarsityBrad]: I feel sick just looking at her avatar now, let alone chatting with her. [VarsityBrad]: I need to go throw up. The replies were mixed. Most were gloating, but a few people defended the girl. Brad shut them down instantly: [VarsityBrad]: You’re so noble? You go date the tank then. [VarsityBrad]: Did she apologize for looking like that while online dating? I’m doing her a favor by not ripping into her face-to-face! There were plenty of people giving him bad ideas. I scrolled for a bit longer, got bored, and switched back to Discord. Weird. Why hadn’t he messaged me back? This had never happened before. Was he pulling an all-nighter in the lab? I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I sent a “Goodnight” sticker and went to sleep. The next morning, I checked my messages first thing. Still nothing. What was going on? However, Brad’s thread had a new development. I frowned at the top comment: [TopComment]: This is easy to solve. Just give the login and the girlfriend to someone you hate. Let the two annoying losers deal with each other! Wow, that is genuinely evil. There were comments saying that was messed up, but Brad thought it was genius: [VarsityBrad]: Smart move, bro! My cousin has been acting like a pretentious jerk lately. I hate him. I’m doing it! Chapter 3 Does Brad have a cousin? I’d never heard of one. But whatever they did had nothing to do with me. The important thing was: why wasn’t my boyfriend replying? I re-read our logs from yesterday. Nothing seemed wrong. He had ordered me sushi for dinner, then told me he was going to the lab. So why the silence? Just as I was debating whether to call him, my phone vibrated. X: Good morning, baby. I let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling a little pouty. Me: Why did you ignore me all night? T_T X: Sorry baby, the lab was crazy. Just as I thought. Busy with work. I relaxed completely. Me: Fine. I forgive you. Barely. X: Don’t forgive me too fast. You can yell at me more if you want, baby. He was calling me ‘baby’ so much it was making me blush. Me: Why is your mouth so sweet today? X: I missed you. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. Me: We talk every day, how can you miss me? Silence for a few seconds, then: X: I miss you a lot. X: I really want to see you soon, baby. Chapter 4 Why was he being so smooth today?! I felt a strange vibe, but my heart was pounding too fast to analyze it. I quickly switched apps to scroll and calm down. I’d been dating X for almost four months. He usually had that “cool guy” vibe. He called me babe, but he rarely said anything this clingy. Something was off. Seriously off. Did he do something to make me mad? I immediately thought of the Reddit post I saw last night. The anger I felt on behalf of that girl came rushing back. I asked seriously: Me: You’re acting sus. Tell me, what did you do? He went quiet. A few seconds later, a voice memo popped up. “You caught me, baby. I bought you cupcakes. Your diet plan is getting ruined by me today.” Listening to the voice note, I felt that weird tingle again. He had sent voice notes before, but they were usually that forced, low “morning voice” guys do. It wasn’t bad, but it was nothing like this clear, bright, pleasant voice. I couldn’t help but save the audio file. I held down the mic button: “You’re weird today. Your reactions are weird, your words are weird, even your voice is weird.” He replied instantly: “Does this kind of weird… make you hate me?” Of course not! I’m a sucker for soft guys. I cleared my throat and hit record: “I don’t hate it. Keep it up.” He laughed in the next clip. “Okay, baby. Go downstairs and get your cupcakes.” Chapter 5 Eating cupcakes first thing in the morning? Sinful! I scolded myself while rushing to wash my face and brush my teeth. “Lucy, you’re up early?” my roommate asked, surprised. I grinned. “My boyfriend bought me cupcakes. Do you have any deliveries downstairs? I’ll grab them.” My roommate waved her hand. “I’ll go myself.” I clicked my tongue. “You grabbed mine yesterday, let me get yours today.” My roommate stood up. “Let’s go together then. I count the stairs as my workout.” She had some health issues and was on medication that caused weight gain, so she was always quietly trying to lose weight. Since she insisted, I didn’t argue. We went downstairs together. The deliveries were on a rack outside the dorm. It was early, so not many people were there. I found the cupcakes quickly. There were two boxes. The note was clear: One for my baby Lucy. One for Lucy’s roommate. I stared at the note for two seconds and couldn’t help but smile. I waved the box at my roommate. “My boyfriend is treating us.” She took it, looked at it, and squealed. “Thank you to Lucy and her hubby! Is it your anniversary or something? We’re getting perks!” Honestly, I was surprised too. In the past few months, X rarely ordered me food, let alone shared with my roommate. Did he make a breakthrough in the lab last night? Is he delirious with joy? Just as I took out my phone to ask, someone called out from ahead: “Lucy?” I looked up, startled. “Brad.” It was Brad Miller. He walked over, his gaze drifting casually to my roommate next to me. He frowned with visible disgust. Then his eyes flicked to the cupcakes in her hand, and I swear I saw a flash of… Glee? Chapter 6 I didn’t like the way he was looking at us. I interrupted him: “Can I help you with something?” Brad snapped out of it and cleared his throat. “Next weekend my frat is hosting a mixer. It’ll be fun. You want to come?” I frowned slightly. Didn’t Brad have a girlfriend? Why was he inviting me? Wait. I paused, remembering the Reddit comments from this morning. Brad gave his account to someone he hated. So, technically… he was single? What a toxic way to be single. I rejected him immediately. “Sorry, I’m meeting my boyfriend next weekend. I don’t have time.” Brad’s expression froze. “You have a boyfriend??” I kept my patience. “Yes. We’ve been dating for a long time.” Ignoring Brad’s furrowed brow, I grabbed my roommate and walked away. “Lucy, you really don’t like Brad, do you?” my roommate teased. “Didn’t he try to chase you a while back? Posting about you on the confession wall and everything.” Saying a few vague things counts as chasing? That’s harassment at best. And considering he had an online girlfriend while trying to flirt with girls on campus, his character was clearly trash. Back in the dorm, I took photos of the cupcakes from every angle, selected the best nine, and sent them to X. Me: Thanks for the food, bro! <3 X replied instantly, but focused on the wrong thing: [Bro?] I giggled and pressed the voice button: "Oops, wrong word. Thanks for the food, boyfriend~" X: Say it again. I decided to indulge him: "Boyfriend~" He went silent for a few seconds. Then, the notifications started popping. He started spamming me with Venmo transfers. I stared at the screen. $520. $1314. $9999. I was shocked. [Are you crazy? Why are you sending me so much money?] X had only ever sent me a Red Pocket once before, on my birthday. It was five dollars and twenty cents. The cheapskate special. X: I'm just too happy. I want my baby to be happy with me. I couldn't help but laugh. Just as I was about to reply, he sent another message: X: Baby, I want to come see you early. Can I?

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My parents’ marriage was never about love. It was a merger. So after they designated me—a boy with no blood ties to either of their families, but who had received the finest education money could buy—as their sole heir, they went their separate ways to sow their wild oats. But the latest “true heir” to show up on our doorstep didn’t know any of this. He just slapped a DNA test on the table in front of me, his chin held high. “You’ve been living my life for eighteen years. Don’t you think it’s time to give it back?” “Get a clue and get out,” he sneered. “And don’t think for a second I’m one of those useless characters from those real-vs-fake heir novels.” “I got my acceptance letter from MIT this year.” The live comment feed scrolling across my vision lit up in agreement. 【The real heir is finally back! I love this ruthless persona.】 【I can’t stand those guys who just play the victim, all crocodile tears and fake stumbles down the stairs.】 I gave a cold smile. He was the eighth one last month. Eleven the month before that. When would it ever end? — 1 After Leo slammed the paternity test down in front of me, he tilted his chin up, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You’ve been living my life for eighteen years. Now, it’s time to give it back, don’t you think?” Before I could even respond, the familiar, semi-transparent comment stream in front of my eyes began to flood with new messages. 【The real heir is back! Hell yes!】 【This is what I’m talking about, straight to the action! None of that boring setup!】 Leo was clearly pleased with his opening gambit. He cleared his throat, continuing with a script he’d likely lifted from some trashy web novel: “Get a clue and get out on your own, before I’m forced to make you.” Then, he added a little flourish of his own. “And don’t think I’m like those useless heirs from the stories. I got my acceptance letter from MIT this year.” The comments exploded. 【Whoa, a genius character? I’m sold!】 【The fake heir doesn’t stand a chance now.】 【Place your bets, how long until the fake heir ‘accidentally’ falls down the stairs? Hurry up with the classic scenes!】 I adjusted my glasses, my expression unreadable. After all, he was the sixth self-proclaimed “true heir” to show up with a DNA test this month. Last month, there were eight of them. The month before that, eleven. I almost had enough to form two soccer teams. Our butler, Peterson, stood behind me, not even bothering to lift an eyelid. A few of the maids, who were polishing antique vases nearby, exchanged subtle glances, the corners of their mouths twitching with suppressed laughter. The silence in the room stretched, thick with awkwardness. I broke it, my voice flat. “Are you finished?” Leo clearly hadn’t expected this reaction. He stiffened his neck, retorting, “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t believe me?” “I believe you,” I said with a nod. I took the crumpled report from his hand and passed it to Peterson without a second glance. “If he shares my father’s blood, then he belongs in the Hebert family.” “Peterson, please show our… new young master to a guest room. What about the south-facing suite on the third floor? The view is quite nice.” Peterson bowed slightly. “Of course, Mr. Adrian.” The entire exchange was smooth, polite, and perfectly executed. Leo was completely stunned. The comment stream went quiet for a few seconds, then a few confused messages trickled through. 【??? This isn’t in the script?】 【Why isn’t the fake heir playing by the rules? Shouldn’t he be on his knees, begging for mercy?】 【I don’t know… this feels like punching a pillow.】 I looked at Leo’s face, now flushed a deep shade of crimson, and felt a genuine urge to laugh. This act, it seemed, was going to be a little more interesting than the last five. 2 Peterson led Leo up to the third-floor guest suite. I thought I might finally have a moment of peace, at least long enough to finish my tea. The next second, my door was kicked open. Leo stood in the doorway, pointing a finger at me. “This room! I want this one!” 【Here we go! The classic ‘stealing the room’ scene!】 【See? I told you. This is more like it!】 I looked up, meeting his gaze calmly. This was the master suite, the best room in the entire villa. He certainly had an eye for real estate. “Fine,” I said, closing my book and standing up. “But I should warn you, this room gets the full force of the afternoon sun. It can get incredibly hot. And the soundproofing is terrible. When someone’s using the home theater downstairs, it sounds like artillery shells are going off next to your ear.” Leo hadn’t anticipated I would agree so easily. The speech he had prepared died in his throat. He stood there for a moment, stunned, before managing to force out a single, defiant phrase. “I don’t care!” “Alright,” I nodded. “Then make yourself at home.” With that, I picked up my book and headed for the study next door, content to sleep there for the night. Leo was left standing in the middle of the room, the triumphant excitement draining from his face. At dinner, Leo finally got the tearful family reunion he’d been dreaming of. My father, Richard Hebert, and my mother, Eleanor, were both, for once, present at the table. Across the long expanse of polished mahogany, Leo sat opposite me. He spent a good few minutes working up his emotions before his eyes finally reddened. “Dad, Mom…” he began, his voice choked with a carefully crafted vulnerability. “You have no idea… what my life has been like all these years…” He launched into a heart-wrenching tale of his childhood, of never having enough to eat, of being scorned by his adoptive parents, and of his heroic struggle to earn his place at MIT. At the most dramatic moments, he even managed to squeeze out a few tears. The comment stream was moved. 【Oh, poor Leo! He’s been through so much!】 【Mr. and Mrs. Hebert, look at your amazing son!】 But at the head of the table, the two people who mattered most were completely unfazed. My father was wearing a Bluetooth earpiece, deep in a hushed, transatlantic conference call. My mother, Eleanor, was meticulously marking up a thick art auction catalog with a special pen. “This Monet’s Water Lilies,” she murmured to herself, “the estimate is far too conservative…” The grand dining room was filled with the solitary sound of Leo’s sobbing, which echoed awkwardly in the vast space. I was the only one paying him any mind, and only then to calmly cut into my steak and offer a piece of advice. “Your soup is getting cold.” Leo’s crying stopped abruptly. Finally, my father’s call ended. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked up at Leo, his brow furrowed in irritation. “You,” he said, pointing a finger at Leo, his voice sharp with impatience. “Are being loud.” My mother also looked up from her catalog, her gaze sweeping over him with a cool detachment. “Peterson, teach the new young master some table manners. We do not speak while eating.” With that, they both set down their silverware, rose from the table, and departed—one to his study, the other to her art gallery. From beginning to end, they never once asked Leo how he had fared all those years. Leo was left with his mouth agape, the tears forgotten in his eyes. 【Wait, what’s with this script?】 【Why aren’t these rich parents coddling him? Where’s the scene where they embrace their long-lost son and weep?】 【Is it just me, or is everyone in this family a little… off? Except for the new guy?】 I dabbed my lips with a napkin and stood up. As I passed by Leo, I paused, looking at his utterly lost expression. I finally offered a quiet parting shot. “Welcome home.” He jerked his head up to look at me, his eyes filled with nothing but confusion. 3 The next afternoon, I got a call from Isabella Thorne. The moment I answered, I was greeted by her unrestrained laughter. “Hey, Adrian. I hear you’ve got a new model in stock. Is this one any fun?” I leaned back on the living room sofa, turning a page in my economics journal, and gave a noncommittal, “Mm.” “MIT kid. He’s got… energy.” “Oh, a real brainiac, is he?” Isabella’s tone grew even more amused. “I have to come see this. Same old address? I’m on my way.” She hung up before I could reply. Half an hour later, Isabella’s flashy red convertible pulled into the driveway. She swept into the living room, a disappointed look on her face when she didn’t immediately spot her target. “Where is he? Are you hiding him?” “Upstairs. Probably still studying how to be a proper long-lost son.” Isabella burst out laughing. “My father mentioned something about it. Said he put on a whole waterworks show at the dinner table and your parents didn’t even blink?” “More or less,” I said, setting my book down. “My father told him he was loud, and my mother told him to learn some table manners.” “Priceless,” Isabella said, slapping her thigh. “What an idiot, can’t even follow the script. Did he really think wealthy parents are all doting simpletons who revolve around their children?” As we were talking, footsteps descended the stairs. Leo had changed his clothes, but his expression was still sour. It seemed the complete dismantling of his worldview last night was still sinking in. “So this is him…” Isabella said, drawing out the words. “Yes. Leo.” Leo strode down the remaining steps and planted himself in front of us, his eyes fixed on Isabella. “You must be Adrian’s girlfriend, right?” 【Here it comes! The classic ‘drive a wedge between them’ move!】 【Go on, girl! Put him in his place!】 Isabella simply raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. Seeing her silence, Leo thought he’d struck a nerve and grew bolder. “I’m telling you, you should leave him while you can. He’s nothing but a fraud, an imposter who’s stolen my place. He doesn’t deserve you. Once my parents kick him out, he’ll be nothing. Stick with me, and the entire Hebert fortune will be ours.” I took a slow sip of my tea. Isabella smiled, a dazzling, cutting expression. “Kid, have you been reading so many of those trashy novels that your brain has turned to mush?” Leo’s face flushed a deep red. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means,” Isabella said, rising to her feet and stepping toward him, her height, amplified by her heels, giving her an overwhelming presence, “First, I’m not his girlfriend.” “Second, even if he is a ‘fraud,’ the business models and financial strategies inside his head are worth infinitely more than your little acceptance letter.” “And third, and most importantly,” she said, wagging a perfectly manicured finger at him. “You waltz in here making promises when you don’t even know who’s really in charge of this family? A lightweight like you isn’t even worthy of shining his shoes.” With a disdainful snort, Isabella turned and sat back down beside me. “Now run back upstairs,” she added without looking at him. “You’re an eyesore.” Leo glared at me, his chest heaving, before turning and stomping back up the stairs. Silence returned to the living room. Isabella swirled the coffee in her cup, turning to me with a wry smile. “This is the opponent you’re playing against? It’s almost too easy. A bit boring, don’t you think?” I looked at her, adjusted my glasses, and smiled back. She was right. Leo was just an appetizer. But no matter what other monsters or fools were waiting in the wings, one thing was certain. In this chaotic game that was only just beginning, Isabella Thorne was the one ally I could trust completely. 4 After Isabella’s verbal annihilation, Leo kept a low profile for a few days. He mostly sulked in the master suite he’d claimed, plotting God knows what. I was more than happy for the peace and quiet, and went about my days as usual, reading and managing my portfolio. But the tranquility only lasted for three days. On the fourth day, as I was heading downstairs for a glass of water, I saw Leo pacing back and forth near the top of the main staircase. He would peer down at the steep angle of the steps, then tentatively tap the edge of a stair with the toe of his shoe, muttering to himself. I leaned against the living room wall, water glass in hand, and watched him with a flicker of amusement. 【It’s happening! The classic ‘fall down the stairs’ scene!】 【My guess: the fake heir pushes the real one, the parents see it, and he’s disowned for good!】 【You got the script backwards. Obviously, the real heir is going to frame the fake one!】 【Finally! My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking! Is this it?】 I see. I adjusted my glasses, the picture becoming clear. It seemed Isabella’s words had gone completely over his head. For the next two days, he spent hours rehearsing near the staircase. Even from a distance, I could practically feel his internal struggle: Would the impact be greater if I landed head-first, or would the rolling posture be more convincing? Finally, he chose his auspicious day. That afternoon, my parents were out, leaving just the two of us and a few servants in the vast villa. As I was about to leave my study, I saw him waiting at the top of the stairs, a look of grim determination on his face. When he saw me, his eyes lit up, and he quickly shifted into position. One foot hovered in mid-air, his body leaned forward precariously, poised to tumble down at the slightest touch. I continued walking toward him, my pace steady. The comment stream went into a frenzy. 【Do it! Push him! Prove you’re not a coward!】 【This is it! The big moment! I can’t wait to see him roll!】 As I drew closer, Leo’s expression shifted from nervous to expectant, with a touch of theatrical martyrdom. I was just three steps away when my phone vibrated. I paused and pulled it out. It was a text from Peterson: 【Mr. Adrian, there is a gentleman at the door named Samuel. He claims to be your… brother.】 Another one. I glanced at Leo, still frozen in his absurd, one-legged pose, and gave him a polite nod. Then, I turned on my heel and walked toward the other staircase at the far end of the hall. Leo was completely petrified. He remained in his ridiculous pose, watching in disbelief as I calmly walked away. By the time I reached the grand foyer, Peterson was already escorting a young man inside. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and jeans, looking quiet, refined, and almost fragile. His eyes, however, bypassed me completely, locking onto Leo, who was still standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs. Leo finally snapped out of it, his face a mask of wary confusion as he stared at the intruder. The newcomer, Samuel, walked directly to the foot of the staircase. Then, from his canvas bag, he pulled out a file and threw it, hard, right into Leo’s face. The papers struck his skin with a sharp slap. Leo was stunned into silence. Samuel’s voice was soft, but it cut through the air with chilling clarity. “You imposter. It’s your turn to get out.”

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