Category: English

Jace hadn’t spoken to me in three days. Just as I was about to swallow my pride and apologize first, the school’s golden boy confessed his feelings to me. I instinctively looked at Jace. “Do you want me to say yes?” A friend nudged him. “You and Maya grew up together. Don’t say something you’ll regret just because you’re mad.” Jace sneered, looking utterly unimpressed. “She could strip naked in front of me and I wouldn’t feel a thing.” “She can date whoever she wants. I don’t care.” At the same time, a floating comment appeared in my vision: [LMAO, Jace, you look pathetic trying to act tough. Your knuckles are white from clenching your fists, but sure, you ‘don’t care.’] [Male lead is digging his own grave. His eyes panicked just now but he still has to run his mouth.] [Golden Boy, cover our girl’s ears! The male lead’s mouth needs to be sewn shut!] [Girl, just pick the Golden Boy. He saves your doodle-filled scratch paper like it’s treasure. If you beckoned, he’d crawl to you.] I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and looked at the blushing boy in front of me. I smiled. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.” Chapter 1 Jace was giving me the silent treatment again. I gathered a few friends to meet up with him, intending to make peace. After all, since we were kids, every time he got mad, I was the one to back down first. He showed up. But he wasn’t alone. Mia was with him. She was the scholarship student who transferred this semester. She was proud, aloof, and didn’t mesh well with most of the class. She especially looked down on me. She called me a “princess” who only knew how to act helpless and rely on men. Whenever I spoke, she’d cover her ears with a look of disgust. “Ugh, that voice. So fake.” But that was just my natural voice. I looked at Jace, opening my mouth to say something conciliatory. Mia stepped in front of me, chin raised, her voice sharp. “Maya, please control your boyfriend. Stop letting him show up around me. I have no interest in your little love drama. It’s a waste of my time.” I was confused. But my upbringing kicked in, and I politely explained, “You misunderstood. Jace isn’t my boyfriend yet.” She ignored me and continued aggressively. “Why do you have to come to my workplace and bother me?” “Do you rich people just get a kick out of humiliating us poor folks?” I was even more baffled. This coffee shop outside school was our usual spot for homework. I had no idea Mia worked here. There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face. She acted like our mere presence was an imposition. “It’s my first day, and you bring a whole crowd and order so much.” “Extra syrup, no syrup, oat milk, almond milk. Are you deliberately trying to make my life hard?” Even with my good temper, I was starting to get annoyed. “Ordering based on preference is normal, isn’t it? If you can’t handle it, you can find another job instead of lecturing the customers.” Jace looked at me, a flicker of impatience in his eyes. “Maya, apologize.” I froze, bewildered. My eyes stung. “What did I do wrong? Why should I apologize?” Chapter 2 This was the second time Jace had forced me to apologize to Mia. It was also the reason for our current cold war. Last week, our homeroom teacher held a meeting with the class officers. He mentioned that Mia’s family was struggling—her dad broke his leg and lost their only source of income. He suggested a secret donation drive, emphasizing that we should keep it quiet to protect her pride. As the academic chair, collecting the money fell to me. But when Jace came over to my house to study, he accidentally knocked over the notebook where I was recording the donations. And Mia just happened to see it. She stared at the amounts listed next to everyone’s names. Then she grabbed the notebook, tore it to shreds, and threw the pieces in my face. “Maya, I don’t need your charity!” “My family is poor, but I have dignity!” “Acting all high and mighty like this… it’s disgusting!” She was crying, but she held her head high, defiant. Like I was some unforgivable villain. Even though I had emptied my entire allowance and donated the most. The whole class looked at me, their silent gazes accusing me of hurting someone’s pride. My eyes turned red, and my hands trembled under my desk. I instinctively looked at Jace. I hoped he would say something. Anything. We had grown up together. He always hated seeing me treated unfairly. But this time, he stood next to Mia and frowned. “Maya, apologize.” I turned to leave in anger. He grabbed my wrist. “Be good. Just apologize and it’ll be over.” He gripped me tight, so tight my bones ached. Like he wouldn’t let me go unless I publicly atoned for my sins against Mia. I swallowed my grievance and pain, clenched my fists, and said my first “I’m sorry” to Mia. But she bit her lip and shook her head. “Maya, you’re not sincere. I don’t accept it.” My nose stung. I was on the verge of tears. Jace’s eyes darkened. “Maya, come on. Louder.” My nails dug into my palms. My heart ached terribly. I didn’t want to drag this out. I bowed deeply to Mia. “I am sorry. Is that enough?” Then I ran out of the classroom and took the rest of the day off. I cried my eyes out at home. When my mom asked, she comforted me, saying scholarship kids sometimes just had strong pride. I tried to rationalize it. I tried to convince myself that Jace just didn’t want things to escalate to the teacher and make it awkward for everyone. My friends tried to comfort me too. They said Jace kept staring at my empty seat. That he checked his phone eight hundred times a day, waiting for my text. That he was calling people at 3 AM asking what gifts girls liked, surely for me. They showed me photos. They told me to give him an out. So, that led to today’s attempt at reconciliation. Chapter 3 But here we were again. I hadn’t done anything wrong this time either. Yet he still wanted me to apologize. I suddenly started to doubt… did Jace actually care about me? “I don’t think I’m wrong.” “Jace, I won’t apologize.” Mia scoffed. “You look down on me, of course you won’t apologize.” “I won’t hold it against you. Because I’m different from you. I don’t have the luxury of being willful.” She loved doing this. Using these words to put us on trial. Amplifying her poverty and struggles to stand in opposition to us. But was it a sin that my parents gave me a comfortable life? “Mia,” I clenched my fists, my voice losing its softness. “Poverty isn’t an excuse for you to be unreasonable. I don’t owe you anything. This is your job. If you don’t want to do it, I can ask the manager to cancel the order, and we’ll go somewhere else.” Jace suddenly raised his voice. “Maya!” Mia huffed and walked away. I felt exhausted. The desire to make peace vanished. My friends looked at each other, awkward silence filling the air. Jace stared in Mia’s direction, lost in thought. A moment later, she came back with a tray to serve our drinks. Whether intentional or not, when she placed my cup down, she slammed it. Coffee splashed all over my white pants. I jumped up, grabbing napkins. She glanced at me lightly, muttered “High maintenance,” and turned to leave. I called her out. “Mia, apologize! You ruined my clothes.” She turned around. Jace, who had been silent, finally spoke. “Forget it. It’s just a pair of pants. It’s not necessary.” I looked at him in disbelief. “Not necessary?” Mia lifted her chin. “It’s my first day. You should know I might be clumsy. Why wear white to a coffee shop? Are you saying you’re blameless?” I was trembling with rage at her twisted logic. Jace frowned and pulled me down. “That’s enough. She’s working hard. Stop making a scene.” Me? Making a scene? Why was it that when it concerned her, I had to apologize? But when she messed up, my reasonable request became “making a scene”? I felt like I didn’t know Jace anymore. Seeing our standoff, Mia pulled a bracelet out of her pocket and slammed it on the table, looking at Jace. “I won’t accept your gift. You rich people are too much trouble. Please don’t give me random things in the future.” It was the exact same bracelet my friend had sent me a picture of. So the person he was buying a gift for at 3 AM wasn’t me. My heart sank, bit by bit. I looked up and met Jace’s eyes. He looked displeased. “Maya, can’t you be considerate of others?” “You’ve really been spoiled by everyone! You’ve become so mean!” Bitterness spread through me. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Everyone said Jace liked me, that we would end up together eventually. So bowing my head temporarily didn’t mean much. But if he liked me, why was it never him bowing to me? Why did simply wanting fair treatment make me “mean” in his eyes? Just as my emotions were about to explode… The coffee shop door opened. A familiar figure walked slowly toward me. It was Liam, the school’s Golden Boy and top student. In front of everyone, he handed me a letter. He said he liked me and hoped I would consider being his girlfriend. The air went still. Jace whipped his head around to find my eyes, his face turning pale. Chapter 4 It was too sudden. I instinctively asked Jace, “Do you want me to say yes?” I don’t know why that question triggered him again. His expression shifted instantly, becoming cold as ice. My friends started whispering urgently. “Maya, are you kidding? You and Jace have been close since forever. How could you be with someone else?” “Yeah, you like him so much. Just apologize and you guys will make up.” “He’s just stubborn. He’s soft on the inside, you know that.” I stayed silent. I stared stubbornly at Jace. A friend nudged his shoulder. “You and Maya grew up together. Don’t say something you’ll regret just because you’re mad.” Jace sneered, looking utterly unimpressed. “She could strip naked in front of me and I wouldn’t feel a thing.” “She can date whoever she wants. I don’t care.” At the same time, the floating comments appeared: [LMAO, Jace, you look pathetic trying to act tough. Your knuckles are white from clenching your fists, but sure, you ‘don’t care.’] [Male lead is digging his own grave. His eyes panicked just now but he still has to run his mouth.] [Jace only bought the bracelet to apologize to Mia on Maya’s behalf! He doesn’t like her!] [Male lead, speak up! What is your mouth for? You’re gonna be groveling later.] [Golden Boy, cover our girl’s ears! The male lead’s mouth needs to be sewn shut!] [Girl, just pick the Golden Boy. He saves your doodle-filled scratch paper like it’s treasure. If you beckoned, he’d crawl to you.] [I’m a college student, and I support the female lead getting with the Golden Boy.] The sudden text floating in the air confused me. The “male lead” they were talking about was Jace? And Liam… liked me? How could he like me? He sat next to me in class, but I once overheard him telling someone I was “high maintenance” and my voice was annoying. That I looked like a “pick-me” girl. [That’s just jealousy! He’s jealous you follow Jace around and never look at him.] [Yeah, he’s basically crawling on the floor in envy. He pretends to sleep during breaks just to smell your hair.] [Tsk tsk, this creepy shadowy vibe. Love it.] Really? My thoughts slowly returned to reality. But then I heard Jace speak again. “Come on, Maya. Stop playing these games.” “Dragging the Golden Boy into your little drama? Did you pay him?” “What, you didn’t come to me for a few days so you went to seduce him instead?” [Oh no, oh no. Male lead regretted it the second he said it. His hands are shaking but he’s trying to look cool.] [Baby girl, just comfort Jace. He looks like he’s about to shatter.] [Yeah, you came here to make peace anyway. Why make everyone awkward?] [Honestly, the female lead is kinda dramatic sometimes.] [Right? If she just went to him that night, they would’ve made up. But she waited three days. The guy couldn’t sleep waiting for her text. He loves her so much, okay?] [I’m Team Childhood Friend. Don’t let the new guy win! Baby girl, do it for me. Reject the Golden Boy and go hug Jace.]

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When I found out about Kelly’s affair, we were both surprisingly calm. She shielded the young man behind her, her voice a flat monotone. “Don’t blame him. It was all me. I couldn’t control myself. He’s innocent.” I nodded, feigning understanding. That night, Kelly came home and handed me a set of divorce papers. “I’ve made concessions financially. Take a look. If there are no issues, just sign.” I tossed the papers into the trash. “Don’t worry,” I said, my tone magnanimous. “I’m not going to make a scene and demand a divorce over something so trivial.” It was just an affair. In this age of fast-food romance, who hasn’t faced a little temptation? I hadn’t exactly been a saint myself. How could I blame her? 1 Kelly froze, a cigarette halfway to her lips. She looked up, her eyes narrowed. I knew what she was thinking. I used to be the jealous type, the kind who couldn’t tolerate a single grain of sand in his eye. Kelly had always been a magnet for men. Even in the early, passionate days of our relationship, when she was trying her best to be faithful, there were always shameless guys who threw themselves at her. I used to pick fights with her about it constantly. But over the years, maybe the passion had faded. Or maybe I was just getting older, too tired to argue. Our marriage had become a stagnant pond, utterly still. When life gets that dull, a little excitement is inevitable. “Kelly, we’ve known each other for twenty years. We’ve been married for almost ten. The company is thriving, and our parents get along.” “Do you have any idea what a divorce would mean for us?” It would mean dividing our assets, and the company’s stock would take a hit. It would mean upheaval for both our families. Our parents were old, with pre-existing health conditions. The shock could be too much for them. Kelly was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, “I’m just trying to respect you.” “And your idea of respecting me is to find a lover and cheat on me?” She frowned. “He’s not a lover! I told you, I’m the shameless one. He knew I was married. He tried to reject me.” “I get it. You don’t have to explain. Matters of the heart are hard to control with logic.” I decided to lay all my cards on the table. “You’re just afraid I’ll use my position as your husband to hurt him, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I might not have many virtues, but I am generous.” She studied me, her eyes searching for a crack in my facade. “You really don’t mind?” “I wouldn’t say I don’t mind at all. But you two are in love.” I sighed dramatically. “True love is a rare thing these days. I have nothing but respect and well wishes for it.” 2 My performance didn’t completely convince her, but she knew the facts I’d laid out were undeniable. So, she agreed to reconsider the divorce. For the next few days, she came home from work on time. When her phone rang, she would glance at me and decline the call. “Was that him?” I asked, my voice dripping with magnanimity. “You should answer. Don’t make him sad. You can’t give him a proper title; the least you can do is not make him suffer in other ways.” She gritted her teeth, stood up, and disappeared into her study, closing the door firmly behind her. The closed door was like her heart—it hadn’t been open to me for a long, long time. I understood her, really. People are tolerant of those they love deeply, and of those they don’t love at all. It’s the ones they used to love, the ones they’ve fallen out of love with, that they treat with the most cruelty. She must despise me now. The very act of breathing the same air as me was probably torture for her. And yet, she forced herself to come home every night, to play this game with me, all because she was afraid of what I might do to her lover. Poor thing. That night, as usual, I slept alone. I couldn’t remember the last time Kelly and I had been intimate. In the beginning, I used to try to seduce her, but she always claimed she was too tired. But a woman’s libido doesn’t just die. I knew she wasn’t tired. She was just… satisfied by someone else. And I was a man with needs. So, I had found a clean, uncomplicated woman to fill the void. Before bed, a message popped up on my phone. [When are you getting a divorce?] [I told you, I don’t do married men! If you don’t divorce her, we’re done!] I thought of her perfect breasts and long legs and licked my lips with a pang of regret. A divorce was out of the question. But she sounded so resolute. I couldn’t force her. So, with a sigh, I deleted her contact. Oh well. Plenty of other fish in the sea. Bye-bye, baby. The next one will be even better. 3 Monday was the quarterly shareholders’ meeting. I hadn’t been to the office regularly since I’d gotten sick from overworking a couple of years ago. I’d been recuperating at home, living comfortably off the dividends. But I always made a point to attend the shareholders’ meetings. There were a few new faces since my last visit. My eyes immediately landed on a young man in the corner, tasked with taking the minutes. When he saw me, his eyes darted around nervously before he lowered his head, trying to make himself invisible. I felt no animosity toward him, just a flicker of pity. He was the first man Kelly had ever brought before me. But he wasn’t the first man she had cheated on me with. Kelly was a professional. She kept her work life and her private life separate. She never brought her other lovers to the company. The way she defended him, the protective instinct in her voice… this time, it seemed, it really was true love. At ten o’clock sharp, Kelly entered the conference room but didn’t start the meeting. A few moments later, the door opened again, and a woman in a charcoal gray suit strode in. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said, her tone devoid of any actual apology. She took a seat next to Kelly. She seemed to feel my gaze on her and met my eyes with a cool, indifferent stare before looking away. I let out a soft “tsk.” That woman had a poker face that could rival a statue’s. Especially in bed. The more turned on she got, the colder her expression became. But I guess I had a bit of a masochistic streak. The colder she was, the more excited I got. “Mr. Collins, who is that?” the shareholder next to me whispered. “That’s Amelia Vance, our angel investor,” I explained quietly. “The company wouldn’t exist without her initial investment.” “But I’ve never seen her at a meeting before.” “She has a lot of assets. We send her an invitation every quarter, but she’s always declined.” “So why is she here today?” I smiled and shook my head. “I have no idea. Maybe she was bored.” 4 The meeting ended around noon. I decided to stay and have lunch with Kelly. As I was washing my hands in the restroom, Kelly’s lover walked in. He saw me and instinctively turned to flee. But after a moment’s hesitation, he shuffled over, his head bowed, and mumbled, “Mr. Collins.” I took my time washing my hands, drying them meticulously under the hand dryer. He stood there, waiting for a response that never came, and his shoulders started to shake. Tears welled up in his eyes. He looked so pathetic. “Mr. Collins, I really didn’t mean to destroy your marriage. I… I didn’t know she was married at first…” he stammered, his voice choked with sobs. “I tried to leave her, but… but…” “But you love her too much,” I finished for him, a sympathetic tone in my voice. I took out a handkerchief, gently lifted his chin, and dabbed at his tears. “The thought of leaving her was like a knife in your heart.” “So, you continued the affair. And then she brought you into the company, so you could be with her every day. Am I right?” I had stolen all his lines. He just stared at me, forgetting to cry. “Is there something you want to say to me?” I asked. The company was huge. If he had really wanted to avoid me, it would have been easy. His intentions were so transparent. He was so weak, so fragile, that I almost found him endearing. “Mr. Collins, you’re so successful, so handsome, so rich. So… so… could you please… divorce her…?” he finally whispered, knowing he had no right to ask. The tears started again. “I have no other choice. I… I love her so much…” “Call me shameless, call me despicable, I don’t care! I’ll do anything for our happiness!” I smiled and nodded. “I understand. You can stop crying now.” “Thank you for your generosity,” he said, and started to kneel. But he stopped when he realized I wasn’t going to stop him, his knees hovering awkwardly in mid-air. I glanced at my watch. No wonder I was hungry. “Kelly and I will discuss the divorce,” I said, patting his shoulder as I walked past him. Kelly’s office was spacious. When I entered, she was chatting with Amelia. Seeing me, Kelly smiled. “Perfect timing. Amelia, it’s been a while since you’ve seen Ethan, right? Why don’t we all have lunch together?” It hadn’t been that long. We’d just slept together last week. Amelia glanced at me and gave a slight nod. “It has been a while. I was actually going to message you both last night to arrange lunch today, but it seems Ethan deleted me?” “That’s impossible,” Kelly said, grabbing my phone and scrolling through my contacts. Her smile faltered when she couldn’t find Amelia’s name. “He must have deleted you by accident,” she explained quickly. “Ethan never deletes people.” “It’s fine. We can just add each other again.” Amelia held out her phone with a QR code, watching as Kelly scanned it and sent a friend request. I rolled my eyes. Who was it that swore last night we should never contact each other again? 5 Just as we were about to leave, Kelly’s lover knocked on the door, looking pale and unwell. He wanted to take the rest of the day off. Technically, he should have gone to his direct supervisor. But he was the apple of Kelly’s eye. So, naturally, Kelly stayed behind to tend to him, and I ended up going to lunch with Amelia alone. As we were leaving, Kelly reminded me to get on Amelia’s good side, especially after the “accidental” deletion. They had been best friends in college. Amelia’s generous investment was the reason Kelly’s company had even gotten off the ground. But people change, and their positions in life were different now. Things were more complicated. To show the sincerity of my apology, the moment we got in the car, I let Amelia tie my hands with her silk tie. Her expression was cold as she gripped my wrists, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh. “So ruthless,” she hissed, her voice like ice. “Deleting me just like that. You come and go as you please. What am I to you? A dog?” The car windows were tinted, but we were still in the company parking lot. The familiar surroundings sent a thrill of forbidden excitement through me. “You love her that much? You know she’s been cheating on you for years, but you still won’t divorce her?” She climbed onto my lap, her fingers digging into my jaw, forcing me to look out the window. Kelly was gently guiding her lover out of the elevator, her face etched with concern. They were probably on their way to the hospital. “Tell me,” Amelia whispered, her breath hot against my ear, “what do you think would happen if I rolled down the window right now and said hello?” 6 I was gasping for air. Amelia was not a gentle lover. Especially in bed. I knew that the more I begged for mercy, the more frenzied she would become. So, instead, I reached over and pressed the button to lower the window, leaning out to wave at Kelly. Kelly, sensing something, turned and looked our way. But the window was already closed again. “What’s wrong?” her lover asked, snuggling closer to her. He followed her gaze. Kelly shook her head, and they got into their car. What a shame. Amelia was driving her new Rolls-Royce today. Kelly had never seen it before. Otherwise, she might have recognized the car and suspected something. I remembered the pictures Amelia had sent me of the car’s interior. She had said it was spacious. Perfect for… this. And she was right. When it was over, I was curled up in the back seat, exhausted. Amelia’s blouse was unbuttoned, her body still flushed with the afterglow of sex. A smug, satisfied look was on her face. “No matter how hard you fight it, this marriage won’t last much longer,” she said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know how serious Kelly is about him this time.” Of course, I knew. Because the last man Kelly had loved this deeply was me. “It doesn’t matter. The worst she can do is sue for divorce.” I let out a low chuckle. “But I have all the time in the world. I can wait her out.” “Ethan, I don’t understand you,” Amelia said, her brow furrowed. “What’s the point of holding onto a loveless marriage with a woman who doesn’t want you?” “There is no point. But does everything in life have to have a point?” “Besides, even if I divorce her, I’m not going to marry you. So, what’s the point of you pushing for this divorce?” Her lips tightened, her eyes darkening. She was angry. I knew it. I sighed. “You enjoy the thrill of an affair, but you also want the legitimacy of a title.” “You can’t have it all, Amelia.” 7 That night, Kelly didn’t come home. I expected as much. So, under the guise of comforting me, Amelia let herself into my house. And then, at the peak of my ecstasy, as my body trembled uncontrollably, she picked up her phone and called Kelly. “Amelia? What’s wrong?” It was the middle of the night. Kelly’s voice was hoarse, laced with sleep. “I heard from Ethan that you want a divorce,” Amelia said, her voice impossibly calm, betraying nothing of the high-intensity workout she was currently engaged in. I bit my lip, hard, but a small, choked sob escaped. Kelly heard it. “Are you two together right now?” “Yes.” Amelia looked down at me, her fingers gently brushing through my sweat-drenched hair, her gaze lingering on my flushed face. “He’s crying.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “It’s my fault,” Kelly finally said. “So, you’re really going through with the divorce?” “I have no choice.” I heard the flick of a lighter. Kelly’s voice was heavy with sorrow. “I’ve already hurt Ethan. I can’t hurt another man.” “He loves me so much. I have to be responsible for him.” “But Ethan doesn’t want a divorce. He still loves you,” Amelia said, and I could feel the jealousy in her words, a sharp, bitter edge that she took out on my body. “I’ll find a time to talk to him properly.” After she hung up, Amelia’s questions were relentless. “Did you hear that? She doesn’t love you anymore!” “Divorce her!” “No…” “I’m asking you one last time. Are you going to divorce her?” I gripped the bedsheets, my voice a strained whisper. “No!” Why should I? Why should I make it easy for them? Why should I give up my stable, comfortable life? Ethan Collins will be a widower, but he will never be a divorcee.

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I am a hitman. During a mission, my partner—my ride-or-die—shot me in the head. Over my corpse, he whispered, “I’m sorry. The target is my wife. To protect her, I had to kill you.” My soul was utterly speechless. Bro, do you not have a mouth? If it’s your wife, couldn’t you just say so? We could have just skipped the job! Was it necessary to blow my brains out?! When I opened my eyes again, I was back three minutes before the shot. 1 It was a sunny morning. My partner and I were prone on a secluded rooftop, butts in the air, staring intently at a black sedan parked in front of the hospital across the street. Inside sat our target. Moments later, the car door opened. A slender, pale leg extended out, stepping onto the pavement with delicate grace. The moment her foot touched the ground, I sprang up and shouted, “Hey! Isn’t that your wife?” Startled, my partner flinched, nearly misfiring. He turned his head, his eyes screaming interrogation: She only showed half a leg! Which eye told you that’s my wife? I smiled but said nothing. Damn it, if I didn’t yell fast enough, what if you popped me again? I turned back. The woman had exited the car. Soft, curly hair framing gentle, beautiful features. A breathtaking beauty. My partner stared at his wife, his face melting into happiness. But before we could say hello, a refined-looking man got out of the car. The man hugged the wife, tenderly stroking her belly. They looked like the perfect couple, radiating the glow of expectant parents. My greeting stuck in my throat. I didn’t dare make a sound. But my partner was different. Not only did he dare to speak, he dared to shoot. Bang! He fired. The bullet hit the man right between the eyes. Bodyguards spotted us instantly and swarmed. My partner gazed at his screaming wife from afar, gave a tragic smile, and turned the gun on himself. Bang! He ate the bullet. He killed a guy, exposed our position, and then left me behind to commit suicide!!! The bodyguards arrived fast. Their batons hurt like hell. Before I was beaten to death, my only thought was: Never team up with an idiot. Fuck! 2 Yes, I respawned again. Same sunny morning, same rooftop corner, same black car. Practice makes perfect. This time, I got smart. The moment the wife stepped out, I leaped up. “Whoa! Isn’t that your wife?” “Whoa! Is your wife pregnant?” “Whoa! Does your wife have a… brother?” I worded it carefully. “Brother” could be a real brother, a cousin, a neighbor, or a sugar daddy. We’re adults; no need to be too specific. Before my partner could react, I dragged him downstairs and sprinted to the wife. The wife panicked. The refined man panicked too. The man forced himself to be calm, extending a hand. “Hello, I’m… Mr. King. I’m Lily’s… cousin.” I sighed internally. An honest man. These days, few people admit to being the ‘neighbor Mr. King’. My partner shook his hand, then turned to his wife. “Why are you at the hospital?” The wife instinctively covered her lower abdomen. “I… I’m pregnant…” She glanced at Cousin King. Cousin King reached out, shielding her. “Lily didn’t want to disturb your work, so she asked me to accompany her for the checkup.” My idiot partner bought it completely, his face lighting up with ecstasy. “Really? Lily, we’re having a baby!” I stood there counting on my fingers. “Mrs. Partner, how far along?” Her face paled. “Two… two months.” Great. Three months ago, my partner and I took a job overseas. We just got back today. He hasn’t even stepped through his front door, and he’s celebrating a two-month pregnancy. Could I say anything? No! Say it, and I eat a bullet! I patted my partner. “Old Xie, being a dad is great news. Smile!” He grinned like a blooming flower. After laughing enough, he remembered business. He asked his wife, “Did you offend anyone recently?” After all, we’re pros. Our jobs involve blood. Even if my partner is an idiot, anyone hiring us has a serious grudge. The wife looked confused. My partner understood. He turned to Mr. King. “Then they’re after you. Don’t worry, Cousin. With me here, no one will touch a hair on your head!” Me: Emmmmm… Great. I wanted to applaud. I wanted to sing. But before I could clap, a gunshot rang out. Pain exploded in my back. Strength drained from my body instantly. Before I hit the ground, I saw our Boss in the corner. He was wiping his gun, face twisted in rage. “I hate it when employees slack off!” 3 Do the job, get killed by partner. Don’t do the job, get killed by Boss. What to do? Respawning again, I threw my gear on the ground and went berserk. “Fuck this stupid mission! I quit!” Under my partner’s confused gaze, I leaped down the building, found the Boss’s hiding spot, dragged him out, and started kicking him. “No health insurance! Peeping on us! Shooting me! Everyone pointing guns at me! I died three times today, you know? I need a raise, you hear me?!” The Boss dodged clumsily. “Raise my ass! Health insurance? If I paid it, would you dare take it? You want to go to jail faster…” My partner came to break it up. I slapped both of them. “Break it up? Break your mom! We’re life-and-death partners, remember? You call the guy cucking you ‘brother’ and sacrifice your sworn brother?” Just then, the black car stopped. The wife got out and saw the three of us brawling. She screamed, panic all over her face. Seeing her, my anger, which had just subsided, flared up three stories high! I snapped! Why do I have to meet this woman while I’m working? Can’t you just be a normal wife? Why do you need a side piece? Fine, have a side piece, but why let my idiot partner see it?! I died three times today, and two and a half were thanks to you!!! I’d had enough! I dragged Mr. King out of the car and pointed at his nose. “Cousin? You’re probably the baby daddy!” “Is the wife’s belly your work?” “Is the green hat on my partner’s head your gift?” Mr. King’s eyes dodged. He awkwardly admitted, “How… how did you know?” He shielded the wife. “Blame me if you must. I couldn’t control my feelings…” My partner looked like he’d been struck by lightning. The wife broke down. She covered her face, crying softly. “I’m sorry. I just made a mistake that all women make.” “I love you so much, but I love him too. I didn’t know how to choose…” Oh, so you just hit “Select All”? Her eyes were swollen from crying. Mr. King looked heartbroken. He supported her and said resolutely to my partner, “If you have anger, take it out on me. Lily is innocent!” My partner ignored him. He just stared at his wife and whispered, “Lily, do you really love him?” The wife looked up with teary eyes, tragic and beautiful. “Yes, I love him. But I love you too.” She asked, “Are you willing to forgive me?” My partner froze for a moment, pushed Mr. King aside, and pulled his wife into his arms. “How could I blame you? As long as you come back…” I was dumbfounded. My god, my idiot partner is a legendary simp. Sorry I yelled earlier. You are now the person I respect most! I looked at the sky. I should be able to survive this shift now. But before I could leave, familiar pain hit my back. 4 I thought I died again. As everyone knows, dying a lot makes you desensitized. So I habitually fell to the ground. After a while, a college kid leaned over fearfully. “I just threw a pebble at you. Are you dying?” I lay there, not wanting to get up. “Who are you?” The kid whispered, “I’m the client for this mission. I want to cancel. Can I?” Before I could nod, I heard my cheapskate Boss roaring: “Brian! The mission was to kill your ex-boyfriend! You’re dating men behind my back???” I was confused. What does the client’s dating life have to do with you? Boss, you manage too much. Surprisingly, the kid gasped, “Dad?” He looked at me, looked at his dad, thought about the hit he ordered, and was shocked. “Dad, didn’t you say you were in waste recycling?” “Do you know I’m applying for a government job?” “I passed the written and interview stages, but failed the background check. I thought it was rigged.” “With your background, passing would be a miracle!!” The Boss was furious. “You have the nerve to lecture me? You always said you were straight! Since when do straight guys date men?” “I knew it!! I found stockings in your room and you said they were your partner’s! I thought you had a cute girlfriend! Turns out it’s a six-foot cute girlfriend with a mustache!” “Tell me the truth, who’s the top?” Brian stammered, “I am…” “Bullshit!” The Boss spat. “You think I don’t know anything? In manga, tops have square jaws! Your chin is sharp enough to plow a field!!” I listened with a headache. What is happening? Brian covered his face, his slim frame trembling in the wind like a little white flower. He sobbed, “Dad, sorry for lying, but I really love him!” The Boss raged, “Damn it, he cheated on you and you’re still obsessed! How did I raise such a love-brain!” He looked at the refined Mr. King nearby, murderous aura exploding. “It’s all this scumbag! Cheated my son, and cheated my employee’s wife! Today I’ll do charity work and pop this promiscuous man!” The Boss pulled his gun and fired wildly at Mr. King. The wife screamed. My partner hugged her and dodged. I stood aside, admiring the chaos, even wanting a cigarette. Great, just great. You all killed me at least once. Now taste some lead yourselves!

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My family was on the verge of bankruptcy, and I was being forced into an arranged marriage to save it. As soon as I was dropped off at the Sterling mansion, I heard shouting from inside: “I don’t care how pretty she is! I just heard her asking someone if their parents were dead! With that kind of attitude—” I silently pushed open the door, fully prepared to be rejected. The next second, the young master inside turned beet red and gasped: “Miss Hale is not only beautiful but also deeply caring. I knew my father had excellent taste. I will follow your arrangements completely.” His father: “?” Me: “?” 1 My family was facing bankruptcy, so I was packed up and sent to the Sterling estate in the middle of the night. Before I even stepped through the door, I heard a furious roar: “You old man, you control everything! Don’t you know marriage is about freedom now?! “I’m only twenty-three! I won’t marry some strange older woman! “Even if I get hit by a car the moment I step outside, I won’t agree to this ridiculous demand! “What did you say? She’s pretty? How superficial can you be! “What use is being pretty?! That girl outside is her, right? “I passed by her earlier and heard her asking someone if their parents were dead! With that kind of attitude, even a dog wouldn’t marry her!” I froze. He seemed to be talking about me. When I got out of the car, a street vendor splashed mud all over me with his cart. I was about to say something, but he immediately yelled that I was blind for not watching where I was going. We got into an argument, and he ended up asking if my parents were dead since I had no manners. So I replied, “Your parents are the ones who are dead.” Did Julian Sterling just walk past me? Well, he must have selective hearing, because he only heard me cursing, not the guy cursing me. The argument inside grew louder, accompanied by the sound of things smashing. I closed my eyes in despair. This marriage alliance was probably dead in the water. Rumor had it that Julian was the only son born to Mr. Sterling in his old age, spoiled rotten and arrogant beyond belief. And for something as big as an arranged marriage, even if the old man liked me, his son’s opinion mattered more. I sighed. Forget it. For the sake of decency, I had to at least greet Mr. Sterling. I was already here. Might as well get it over with today instead of dragging it out. Leaving my luggage at the door, I hesitated for a moment before pushing it open. “If you force me, old man, I’ll bash my head in right now!” Julian was facing the wall, head tilted back, looking fully prepared to knock himself out. I carefully extended a hand. “Um, you don’t need to kill yourself. We can just call off the engagement.” If he actually died, I’d be implicated. The thought made my scalp tingle, and I shivered. Two pairs of eyes inside the room landed on me simultaneously. “Scarlett, why are you here so early?” Old Mr. Sterling looked surprised, glancing at his crazy son with hesitation. “Scarlett, as you can see, this marriage… your father and I discussed it, but—” “Ouch!” Before Mr. Sterling could finish, Julian suddenly collapsed to the floor. He proped himself up halfway, banged his head against the wall a few times, and stared straight at me. “Miss Hale, please excuse me. When my headaches act up, banging my head helps. But I’m perfectly healthy otherwise. If you don’t believe me, we can do a pre-marital health check.” His father: “?” Me: “?” 2 Perhaps it was the supreme confidence of being in his own home. Julian showed zero embarrassment. He picked himself up from the floor and turned to me with a polite smile. “Miss Hale, you came over first thing in the morning. Did you sleep well? Would you like to catch up on some rest here?” Me: “…” “I think I heard Miss Hale showing concern for someone outside earlier. Miss Hale is truly beautiful and kind-hearted, isn’t she, Father?” His father: “…” If I hadn’t heard what he was screaming just moments before, I might have been fooled by his handsome exterior. I looked up at him. He truly lived up to the title of a young master born with a silver spoon. Tall and broad-shouldered, yet he had a pair of puppy-dog eyes that added a touch of dopey charm to his sharp, aloof features. When Julian met my gaze, his face turned crimson, and he hurriedly looked away. His comment reminded me of what he said before I entered—that I had bad manners. If his current politeness was just for show, and we broke off the engagement, I could still marry someone else. But if he went around telling everyone in our circle that I had bad manners, my reputation would be ruined, and my backup plans would be gone. Thinking of my family’s precarious business, I couldn’t help but speak up, whispering an explanation. “I didn’t ask if someone’s parents were dead. That vendor cursed me first.” Julian paused slightly. Then he panicked. “I wasn’t badmouthing you! Miss Hale, you misunderstood!” He scratched his head, looked at Mr. Sterling, and his eyes lit up. He turned and shouted: “Dad, why aren’t you dead yet? When am I getting the inheritance?” Then he grinned at me: “I know Miss Hale meant to show concern. I often show concern for my dad like this at home too.” …What a filial son. I curved my lips slightly, not daring to make a sound. The next second. Slap! Mr. Sterling slapped Julian across the face, furious. “You unfilial brat!” Being humiliated by his own father made Julian lose face. It also seemed to slap him awake. The look he gave me suddenly became distant. Julian swallowed hard and lifted his chin. “I was talking in my sleep just now. Haven’t woken up yet. Don’t take it seriously. You’re only average-looking anyway.” Slap! Another slap landed on Julian’s face. “That’s not why I’m mad! Bastard! How did I raise such a bastard!” Mr. Sterling rolled his eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. The scene was chaotic. I spoke up weakly. “Maybe we should just call off the wedding.” I felt like this young master had a few screws loose. Sure enough. The sleep-talking fairy opened his mouth: “Fine, then I’ll reluctantly agree to marry you.” “…” 3 Julian had just ordered the driver to take me home. In the afternoon, he showed up at my door with bags of gifts, rushing like he was on fire. “I’m reluctantly visiting your home. You don’t mind, do you?” Looking at Julian, dressed in a black suit encrusted with rhinestones, hair styled perfectly, preening like a peacock. This is what he calls “reluctantly”? I was confused, but played along: “I don’t mind. Wear whatever you want.” Julian’s smug smile froze. He muttered something about leaving something in the car and told me to go inside first. When he came back in. My little sister dived into my arms, crying loudly that a dragon fruit monster was outside. I looked up. Julian’s black rhinestone suit had been swapped for a hot pink rhinestone suit. It was blinding. But he didn’t care, looking up arrogantly: “That one was too formal. This one feels more… reluctant.” “…” During dinner. My mom signaled me to put food in Julian’s bowl. I picked up a shrimp for him. The next second. He shoved the shrimp, shell and all, into his mouth, mumbling: “Since my fiancée served it, I’ll reluctantly eat it.” “…” He chewed up the shell and swallowed it. A moment later. He nudged my shoulder, looking shifty-eyed again. “Can you give me some more food? I feel like the food tastes better when you serve it.” 4 I didn’t understand, but I complied. I served food. He didn’t spit out shells. I poured water. He drank from the bowl. “Reluctantly doing this.” “Reluctantly doing that.” “I’ll reluctantly do this again!” After drinking an unknown number of cups of water I poured. My little sister, who had finally overcome her fear of the dragon fruit monster, slowly crept to my side. She carefully extended a pinky finger, pointing at the monster. Her round eyes widened, full of innocence. “Sister, is that a water buffalo?” The water buffalo himself froze mid-sip. Was it my imagination, or did Julian sound a bit choked up? “I’m going to the restroom.” A moment later. My sister, who had run off to play, sneakily ran back, pointing towards the bathroom. “Sister, I think the water buffalo is crying in there. Going ‘moo moo’.” “…” This marriage partner, Julian Sterling. It seems like he had a very high fever as a child. Every move he makes is baffling. After an afternoon of “reluctance,” I finally saw him off. Just as he reached the door, Julian seemed to remember something and whipped around. “Miss Hale, I forgot to introduce myself.” Does he need an introduction? The Sterlings are famous. “I am currently technically 23, virtually 24, swaying on 25, almost 26, immediately 27, soon to be 28, approaching 29, nearly 30! “I am much older than you!” What a way to calculate age. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Julian looked inexplicably nervous. Oh. I remembered. Before entering his house this morning, he seemingly said he wouldn’t marry a woman older than him. I didn’t expect him to explain it so tactfully. My face felt hot, and my heart skipped a beat. But fate didn’t seem to want to give him a chance to explain further. Maybe his vow not to marry me was too sincere. On our wedding day. While “reluctantly” on his way to pick me up. Julian actually got hit by a car.

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During the typhoon, my wife’s childhood friend called, claiming she was having miscarriage symptoms and demanding I rush to his private club. I was still groggy from an emergency appendectomy, so my father-in-law answered the phone. He grabbed the family’s heirloom medical kit and raced into the storm to save the child—but died in a horrific highway pile-up. By the time his body was brought to the hospital, it was too late. Nothing could be done. “Mike, you have to save Olivia’s baby… If she loses it… she’ll never be a mother again…” Even in his final moments, my father-in-law only thought of the child in her womb. He died with his eyes wide open, unpeaceful. Grief-stricken, I took the kit and rushed to the club—only to find Olivia and her friend Mason arm-in-arm, toasting. “Well, Liv,” Mason drawled, smirking. “Looks like your husband doesn’t love you that much. What’s your bet-losing punishment?” Olivia, flushed with wine, draped herself over him playfully. “Don’t worry,” she purred. “He’d crawl through hell for me—even if it rained knives!” Shock and rage washed over me. I stormed forward and grabbed her arm. “I thought you were miscarrying! How can you drink?” Olivia’s face turned icy. She splashed red wine in my face. “Wishing a miscarriage on me? Disgusting! Can’t you see we’re just playing a game?” She kissed Mason, then glanced back at me. “And that,” she said, “is your punishment for being late.” 1 Fury tore through my chest. “Olivia, you’re playing games with our unborn child’s life?” I choked out. “Your father was worried sick about you. He was in an accident on his way here!” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her he was dead, terrified of what the shock might do to her. Olivia snatched the medical kit from my hands, her voice sharp. “It’s Mason’s birthday. We’re celebrating. You didn’t even bring a gift, and you show up clutching my dad’s emergency kit? What are you doing, bringing your bad luck here?” she snapped. “Look at you, a complete mess. You call yourself a man?” My eyes burned, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. “You need to come to the hospital with me. Something’s happened to your father.” Mason, enjoying the drama, chimed in with a lazy smirk. “What’s with that look? Like you’re about to explode. You don’t like what she said? You going to hit her?” he taunted. “She’s just celebrating my birthday. You have to curse your own kid and your father-in-law over it?” The contempt in his eyes was naked. I knew he was provoking me, trying to make Olivia angry so I’d be humiliated in front of everyone. In the past, to keep the peace, I would have bowed my head and apologized like a pathetic dog. But my father-in-law’s last words were still echoing in my head. She can never be a mother again. For a woman, losing the ability to have children is a uniquely cruel fate. This wasn’t the time for me to play the clown for their amusement. I just needed to make sure Olivia and the baby were okay, and then get her to the hospital to see her father one last time. “Olivia, come with me to the hospital. To see your dad!” It was the first time I hadn’t groveled before her in public. The onlookers smirked, waiting for the show. As expected, Olivia’s red lips parted, and the venom poured out. “Stop using my dad as an excuse for everything! We were playing a game. Is that a big enough deal for you to start wishing death on him?” she sneered. “You were too pathetic to show up on time, so I lost the game and had to take the punishment. Instead of apologizing, you come here and ruin Mason’s birthday party. For a grown man, you’re incredibly petty.” The room erupted in laughter. “Look at you, you pathetic loser. You don’t deserve a woman like Olivia.” “She’s a saint for not only marrying you but agreeing to have your baby!” “If I were married to Olivia, I’d worship her. If she told me to die, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second!” “You’re just some poor kid who married up, Mike. Who gave you the nerve to piss her off today? You’re playing with fire!” I’d heard the same insults for two years. I could recite them by heart. Ignoring them, I reached for Olivia’s wrist, wanting to check her pulse. If it was steady, a dark part of me wanted to tell her, right then and there, that her father was dead. And that it was her fault. Seeing me reach for her, Mason slapped my hand away with disgust. “You really think just because she’s pregnant, she’s yours for good? Let me tell you something, she’s a modern woman, not some property you own!” Mason always knew exactly which buttons to push. Her face flushed with anger. A second later, her palm cracked across my cheek. “Get off me!” she shrieked. “You think you’re worthy of touching me?” She wiped the hand that had struck me on her dress, as if she’d just touched something filthy. Mason laughed. “Since you’re clearly not here to celebrate, how about you get the hell out? And I mean crawl.” The memory of a time she’d actually forced me to crawl out of a party flooded back, a humiliating fire that burned away the last of my sanity. My fist, clenched tight, shot out and connected with Mason’s mocking face. “You son of a bitch,” I roared. “You can play any game you want, but you don’t joke with people’s lives! You killed my father-in-law! I’ll turn your birthday into your death day!” 2 My punch was fast and vicious. Mason staggered back, blood pouring from his nose. The crowd immediately grabbed me, pulling me away as Olivia rushed to Mason’s side. “Mase, are you okay? Does it hurt?” The raw concern in her eyes was something I had never seen directed at me. She gently dabbed at the blood on his face like he was some priceless treasure, terrified of hurting him. Then she turned, grabbed a beer bottle, and slammed it into my stomach. The impact landed directly on my fresh surgical incision. Stars exploded behind my eyes, but the physical agony was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but Olivia didn’t seem to notice. “Mike, are you insane? You hit Mason? If you can’t live like this anymore, then let’s get a divorce!” To make sure I didn’t “go crazy” again, several men in the room pinned my arms behind my back, holding me like a criminal. I struggled, humiliation fueling my strength, but it was no use. Defeated, I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Your father was killed in a car accident trying to get here to help you. He’s at the hospital right now, waiting for you to see him one last time. If you just come with me to see him, I’ll sign the divorce papers immediately.” Olivia’s eyes blazed. It was clear she didn’t believe a word. She slapped me again, once on each cheek. “Mike, I am ordering you to get on your knees and apologize to Mason!” she commanded. “If you don’t, I’ll tell my father you wished death on him!” Someone kicked the back of my knees. Already weak from the pain in my abdomen, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor. Laughter filled the room. “I thought you had a backbone for a second there! Look how fast he kneels!” Mason’s taunt was met with a chorus of agreement. “We were just playing a game, and you get so bent out of shape you curse your own father-in-law to death. And after Dr. Adler treated you like his own son!” “He took you in and this is how you repay him? What an ungrateful bastard!” … I felt a warm wetness spreading from my abdomen, and the room began to spin. All I could hear was “Dr. Adler, Dr. Adler,” and all I could see was his face as he died in front of me. “Olivia! If you don’t believe me, just call the hospital! Why would I lie about something like this?” When she forced me to my knees, whatever was left of my love for her died. All I wanted now was to make sure her father didn’t have to face the end alone. For a moment, she hesitated. She pulled out her phone, about to make the call, but then Mason let out a low groan. She immediately dropped her phone and rushed to his side. “Mase! What’s wrong?” Mason touched his nose, which had already stopped bleeding, and looked at her with lovesick eyes. “My nose… it’s really throbbing…” “He must have broken it. Mase, we need to go to the hospital!” Mason just pointed to his own lips with a playful, possessive smile. “I’m a big boy, I can handle a little pain. All I need is a kiss to make it better.” He shot a triumphant, challenging glance at me. “Although,” he added, “I’m afraid someone might lose his mind and try to kill me.” Olivia glared at me, then, without a shred of hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him. Mason immediately pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. From my knees on the floor, I could clearly see the thin strand of saliva that connected their lips as they parted. I felt nothing. No anger, no jealousy. Just a vast, cold emptiness. When they finally broke apart, Olivia was blushing like a bride, her eyes soft and dreamy. But the moment her gaze met mine, her expression turned to ice. “This is your punishment for being impulsive,” she said coldly. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Next time, I don’t know if there will be anything I can do to make it up to him for you.” 3 The room erupted in laughter again. Everyone understood her meaning. This time it was a public kiss. Next time, it would be her in his bed. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Are you really not going to the hospital to see your father one last time?” Furious, Olivia picked up her phone to call her dad, but she also aimed a kick at me. She put so much force into it that she lost her balance, and the phone flew from her hand, its screen going black as it hit the floor. Mason was quick, catching her by the waist before she could fall. “Liv, calm down. Getting angry isn’t good for you. Remember, you’re pregnant!” he soothed. “For my sake, just let him go. I don’t want my birthday to be ruined by all this negativity.” His magnanimous words only seemed to make Olivia angrier, her chest heaving. But wrapped in his arms, she slowly calmed down. “See?” she said, looking at me with contempt. “That’s the difference between you and Mason. You broke his nose, and he’s still defending you. But you throw a tantrum over a simple game!” She turned to Mason. “Mase, have security escort him out. I don’t want to see his face again.” With Olivia’s permission, Mason was more than happy to grind me into the dirt. He signaled for the guards. Her kick had torn my wound open. Blood was now steadily seeping through my shirt. “Liv, I think something’s really wrong with Mike!” one of the girls finally pointed out. I used to be tough. Now, even in the dim light of the club, my face was as white as a ghost’s. Olivia didn’t even glance at me. “Don’t worry about him. He’s faking it.” As I was dragged out and dumped into the pouring rain, the club behind me was still alive with music and laughter. The pulsing beat mixed with the drumming of the rain, sounding like a funeral dirge, mocking me for ever thinking I deserved better. I clutched my father-in-law’s medical kit, letting the storm wash over me. If I hadn’t had appendicitis, I would have been the one to answer that call. All Mason and his friends wanted was to humiliate me. He knew that when it came to Olivia, I’d lose all sense of reason, especially now that she was two months pregnant. Fate had played a cruel joke. I was still under anesthesia when my father-in-law, in his frantic love for his daughter, rushed headlong into disaster. He died trying to save my child. He died in my place. The thought that I was partly responsible for his death was a guilt that threatened to drown me. But pain couldn’t kill me. My father-in-law was waiting for me to handle his final affairs. I closed my heavy eyes and waited for the ambulance to arrive. Olivia never showed up. Not while I was recovering, not for the funeral arrangements. It was as if she had vanished from the face of the earth. A colleague at the hospital asked me, “Why wasn’t Olivia at Dr. Adler’s funeral?” I stared at a photo on my phone—her and Mason on a beach in Bali, wrapped in each other’s arms. “She had something important to do,” I said quietly. My colleague nodded sympathetically. “Of course. She just found out she was pregnant. A shock like this… it’s better for her to focus on the baby.” I let out a hollow laugh and didn’t correct him. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I had barely walked through the door of our apartment when she returned. “Mike, I’m home!” She stood by her suitcase, her eyes full of expectation. I knew what she was waiting for. Normally, the moment she got home, I’d rush to replace her heels with slippers, then sweep her up in my arms, carry her to the couch, and massage her feet. It was our ritual, one of the many habits born from years of love. But ever since Mason had returned to the country as the heir to his family’s fortune, she had pulled away. No more playful affection, no more casual touching. All those small, loving habits had become things she despised. Over the last two years, I had gone from confusion to withdrawal to this. A heart of cold, dead ash. I watched the hope in her eyes slowly fade, truly baffled by what she was thinking. Did she really believe that after forcing me to kneel, after having me beaten and thrown out like trash, after running off to Bali with her childhood sweetheart, all it would take was one sweet word to erase the humiliation and bring us back to how we were? My eyes began to sting. 4 After a few seconds of silence, Olivia walked over to me, her eyes welling with tears. I didn’t even look at her. She sighed, then climbed onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Are you still angry about the other day? Are you not even going to comfort your favorite wife?” she whispered. “You know Mason’s friends are all rich kids. Their games are always over the top. If I didn’t play along, I’d never fit in. When you made that scene, I had to do something to smooth things over. If I hadn’t, those guys could have made one call and gotten you fired, let alone blocked your promotion to attending physician.” This was my favorite position, her in my lap. But now, all I could smell was the faint scent of a man’s cologne on her skin, and my stomach churned. I held my breath and pushed her off me. Olivia bit her lip, looking even more wounded. “Why do you always get so angry over such small things? I’m carrying our child. If you won’t even take care of me, the least you can do is not make things harder. Now I have to be the one to comfort you? You’re going to be a father, Mike. Grow up.” A game. A man’s life. I was nearly killed by a kick from her. And she thought I should just pretend nothing happened and comfort her? “You were playing a game, so why did you have to drag me into it?” I asked, my voice flat. “If you two had ended up in bed, would you have expected me to kneel beside you and serve you?” “You killed your own father trying to climb into some so-called high society. What gives you the right to ask me for comfort?” At my continued “cursing” of her father, the few tears in her eyes vanished. Her beautiful face hardened. “My father is an old man. Can’t you show a little respect?” she snapped. “I can get into that circle because Mason and I have been friends since we were kids. If there was really something going on between us, would I be having your baby?” It was the first time she had argued with me so calmly, her tone almost like a lover’s quarrel. Her good mood was probably thanks to her vacation with Mason. She opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of expensive-looking cufflinks. “I picked these out for you on my trip. They’re for your birthday. I was supposed to be back yesterday to celebrate with you, but my flight was canceled. A day late is better than never.” How thoughtful of her to remember my birthday amidst all her fun. As for the gift, it belonged in the trash. I had seen these cufflinks before, on Mason’s social media. They were a birthday gift from someone trying to suck up to him. He didn’t like them, so he’d posted that they were free to a good home. And Olivia had brought them back for me. She couldn’t even be bothered to spend a single penny on me, yet she expected me to be grateful for her trash. When I tossed the cufflinks into the garbage can, her patience finally ran out. “Mike, don’t push your luck!” Without thinking, I shot back, “Better than you, running off on a honeymoon with Mason while your father’s body isn’t even cold in the ground!” Mason’s social media had been filled with intimate photos of them, captioned: “Honeymoon Day 1.” “Honeymoon Day 2.” … She didn’t even flinch at being caught. She just stomped her high heel down on my foot, her face contorted with rage. “Mike, I knew you were heartless, but I didn’t realize your soul was black too!” she shrieked. “Mason was right! The moment I got pregnant, you showed your true colors!” “And I actually defended you to everyone! I told them you would always love me, always treat me right! But what do you do? You curse my father to death, over and over!” “Mason was just testing you for me, with that little game! Not only were you late, but you made a huge scene! And now I lower myself to come home and comfort you, and you’re still acting like this!” “I never should have gotten pregnant with your child! You don’t deserve it!” With that, she grabbed her suitcase and slammed the door behind her. I shook my head and laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. Did she really think that after disappearing for half a month, she could come back with Mason’s garbage, spew a few condescending words, and I would just forgive her? She still had me blocked. She didn’t even know her own father had been buried for over a week. Two hours later, I received a photo from Mason. It was a medical form for an abortion procedure, signed by Olivia. Next to it was a picture of her, her face pale, but a small, triumphant smile on her lips. In that moment, a strange lightness settled over me. A heavy chain had finally snapped. The baby was gone. I could no longer fulfill my father-in-law’s dying wish. This marriage was over. 5 On my father-in-law’s birthday, I brought a bouquet of his favorite jasmine and white roses to his grave. I never expected to run into Olivia and Mason there. “Mike! Are you sick in the head?” she screamed, her eyes red with fury as she saw the name ‘Daniel Adler’ on the tombstone in front of me. “My father is alive and well! It wasn’t enough for you to curse him to death, now you’ve built him a tombstone? How can you be so vile?” She stomped on the flowers, crushing them into the dirt. “Who is this short-lived lover of yours that you dare to bury her in the plot my father bought for himself?” For a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about. Wasn’t she here to apologize to her father? She continued to shriek at my confused face. “Mike, just because I got rid of your baby, you’re going to humiliate my father like this?” “Why did you stop him from saving someone yesterday? Because of you, because you and my father refused to help, Mason’s great-aunt missed her window for emergency treatment, and now she’s dead!” “You’re the one who’s petty and forgot your duty as a doctor, so why drag my dad down with you? He must be so consumed with guilt that he’s disappeared! It serves your dead whore right!” I was completely lost. But one thing was clear. She wasn’t here to apologize or to visit her father. I pointed at the tombstone, my voice calm against her storm of rage. “Your father died two weeks ago, Olivia. You didn’t ask, you didn’t care. Now, someone feeds you a line, and you rush here to slander his name. You’re a truly filial daughter.” Mason snapped his fingers. Two large men grabbed me, holding me still. He held a phone in front of my face. On the screen, a video played. Two men in white coats, one old and one young, were rushing down a street with medical kits. They passed an elderly person collapsed on the ground. They seemed to argue, and then the young doctor pulled the older one away. A moment later, the young doctor was seen kissing a woman. The builds of the men, the medical kits… they looked exactly like me and my father-in-law. The timestamp on the video was from the previous day. Two hours after Olivia’s abortion. “If you want revenge, take it out on me! If you want a divorce, fine!” she screamed. “But my father has spent his entire life saving people! He shouldn’t be consumed with guilt over your mistake! And he most certainly shouldn’t have his final resting place occupied by some cheap slut!” “Do it!” she commanded. “Dig up that bitch’s ashes! I’m going to scatter them to the wind myself!” One of Mason’s men produced a shovel from his car. I struggled, roaring, “Olivia! That’s your father’s grave! You can’t do this!” Seeing my distress only fueled her hatred. “No wonder you don’t care about me anymore! This woman has stolen your soul, even in death!” she spat. “Since you care so much, then I’ll make sure to destroy her completely! This is the price you pay for betraying me and humiliating my father!” I snatched a shovel from one of the men and swung it wildly. “Anyone who touches that grave, I swear to god, I’ll take you down with me!” But it was five against one. They quickly overpowered me, pinning me to the ground and beating me mercilessly. The others, including Olivia, began to dig. When she finally pulled the urn from the earth, her face was twisted into a triumphant, grotesque smile. I used the last of my strength to plead with her. “Olivia, don’t! Those are your father’s ashes!” But she wasn’t listening. I watched, my eyes burning, a taste of blood rising in my throat, as she opened the urn and threw my father-in-law’s ashes into the wind. “See that, Mike?” she shrieked. “That’s what happens when someone tries to steal my father’s grave!” As she raised the empty urn to smash it on the ground, a furious voice boomed from behind us. “Olivia! What are you doing?” “What have you done to your father’s grave?!”

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1 I was reincarnated as the tragic heroine of a romance novel, and my overbearing CEO boyfriend had a “dear sister” who was perpetually hospitalized. In the middle of the night, his phone rang again. He threw on his clothes in a hurry. “Clara’s not feeling well. I have to go see her.” According to the script, I was supposed to cry and beg him not to leave. Instead, I just watched his retreating back and felt a yawn coming on. The moment he was out the door, I called his arch-nemesis—the one with the chiseled eight-pack—and invited him over. The next morning, I timed it perfectly for when I knew he’d be at Clara’s bedside and video-called him. Seeing his face darken instantly, I drawled, “What’s wrong? You went to take care of your sister, didn’t you? The house felt so empty, I just found someone to keep me company. Is that so strange?” “And don’t get the wrong idea. It’s a purely platonic friendship. I’m very tired, Adrian. Could you please not be so unreasonable?” Before he could explode, I hung up. After all, if you can have a little sister, why can’t I have a big brother? … The moment the call ended, a dead silence fell over the living room. Larry Ryder raised an eyebrow, leisurely tying the belt of his bathrobe, concealing the sculpted planes of his abdomen. He let out a low chuckle, his voice laced with the undisguised glee of a spectator. “My guess? Mr. Vance will be back in ten minutes, tops.” I leaned back languidly against the sofa and took a sip of red wine. “I’ll bet five.” The words had barely left my lips when the front door slammed open with a deafening bang, as if it had been kicked in. Adrian was back. His eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving with rage. His gaze first sliced across the perfectly composed Larry, then landed on me, his voice squeezed through gritted teeth. “Seraphina, you’d better give me an explanation!” I swirled the liquid in my glass, feigning ignorance of his volcanic fury. “An explanation for what?” I lifted my eyes, my expression a mask of innocence. “I just had a friend over to hang out. What’s wrong with that?” “A friend?” Adrian scoffed as if I’d told the world’s most hilarious joke. He stalked forward and seized my wrist. “A friend who keeps you company in a bathrobe?! Seraphina, have you no shame?!” The disappointment and fury in his eyes threatened to swallow me whole. If I were the original Seraphina, my heart would be shattering right now. I’d be crying, pleading, trying to explain. But I’m not her. I calmly pulled my hand from his grip, rubbing the red marks on my wrist. My tone was light, dismissive. “Adrian, don’t be so unreasonable. We just watched a movie together. He just got out of the shower. Your constant suspicion is exhausting.” Every single word was a line he had used to placate the original Seraphina countless times. Adrian choked, his face a mottled canvas of white and red. He looked as if he couldn’t believe those words were coming from my mouth. Beside me, Larry let out a perfectly timed sigh and shrugged helplessly. “Adrian, please don’t mind me. Sera and I have always been like this. She’s never really seen me as a man. But since you seem to hate me so much, I’ll just go.” His performance—a masterclass in passive-aggressive manipulation—was impeccable. I immediately grabbed Larry’s arm as he pretended to leave, turning a reproachful gaze on Adrian. “Why are you being so hostile to him? Adrian, when did you become so petty?” “Petty?” Adrian was shaking with rage. “He’s a man, in our house, in the middle of the night! And you’re defending him!” “And Clara?” I finally revealed my endgame, a sweet smile playing on my lips. “Isn’t she a woman? She calls you in the middle of the night, and you go running without a second thought. Why don’t you ever mention the impropriety of a man and a woman being alone in a room together?” I took a step forward, looking directly into his furious eyes, pinning him in place with my words. “If you can have Clara as a sister, why can’t I have Larry as a brother? You can’t have it both ways, Adrian.” Adrian’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Trapped by his own twisted logic, he was rendered speechless. Finally, he just turned and slammed the door behind him. Silence returned to the living room. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and turned to Larry. “Thank you. Sorry you had to be part of the show tonight.” Larry’s playful demeanor vanished. He poured himself a drink and looked at me, his expression complex. “Seraphina, do you remember the university debate tournament? You were my opponent, and you argued me into a corner.” I paused. He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Even back then, I thought you belonged in the sunlight—confident and proud. Not trapped in this golden cage, letting your light be extinguished for a man.” He set down his glass and looked at me, his gaze serious. “It’s Adrian’s loss that he doesn’t cherish you. I’m not helping you for the drama. I just think you deserve better than this.” I looked into his sincere eyes, and the deep-seated resentment of the original soul within me felt a flicker of solace. He was right. I didn’t deserve this. And that poor woman deserved a much better ending. I touched my chest, my resolve hardening. Just wait. This was only the beginning. It was time for the villains of the story to suffer, just as the heroine had. Doubly so. Adrian didn’t come home the next day. I was more than happy for the peace and quiet. I even had a good night’s sleep for the first time in ages. It wasn’t until evening that the villa’s front door opened again. Adrian walked in, supporting a frail figure. It was the woman I had seen in countless photographs: Clara Lane. She wore a plain white dress, her face pale. She looked like a delicate white lotus, swaying in the slightest breeze. Adrian avoided my probing gaze and set her suitcase on the floor. “The doctor said Clara is still very weak and needs to rest,” he announced. “She’ll be staying here from now on, so I can take better care of her.” He paused, then added, “Just make an extra portion at mealtimes. It’s not much trouble.” Clara chose that moment to offer a weak, fragile smile. A triumphant glint flashed in her eyes as she looped her arm through Adrian’s. “Adrian-brother insisted,” she cooed. “He was just so worried about me being alone. I hope his wife won’t mind.” She drew out the word “wife,” her tone dripping with unconcealed provocation. Just as I was about to speak, a sharp pain lanced through my chest. It was the primal scream of the original Seraphina’s shattered soul. She was urging me, screaming at me to demand why Adrian would bring this woman into her home, to throw her out immediately. The intensity of the emotion nearly overwhelmed me. I took a deep breath, pressing a hand to my chest to soothe the turmoil within. I suppressed the wave of resentment and stretched my lips into a brilliant smile. “Mind? Of course not! Why would I mind? Welcome, little sister Clara.” My enthusiasm stunned both Adrian and Clara into silence. Pretending not to notice their shock, I continued warmly, “Adrian’s right. You need to be looked after. And it’ll be nice to have someone else around. It gets so lonely here by myself.” My tone shifted, and I clapped my hands together as if struck by a sudden, wonderful idea. “What a coincidence! I was just about to tell you, the house is about to get even livelier!” Adrian’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” I gestured toward the door. “My dear brother Larry is having his company and his home renovated at the same time. It’s a dusty mess, and I was worried about his health. I couldn’t bear the thought of him living all alone in a hotel, so I’ve invited him to stay with us for a while.” As if on cue, the doorbell rang. I pressed the remote, and the door swung open to reveal Larry, casually pulling a silver suitcase behind him. Dressed in stylish casual wear, he took in the scene in the living room and raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. “Well, look at this. A full house.” He winked at me, then turned his gaze to Adrian, whose face had darkened like a thundercloud. “Adrian, I hope you won’t mind my intrusion for the next little while.” The air in the living room seemed to freeze. Clara’s smile was plastered to her face, and Adrian looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon. Oh, this was going to be fun. The war began the very next morning, in the kitchen. Clara was up at the crack of dawn, a pink apron tied around her waist, presenting Adrian with a bowl of painstakingly prepared congee. “Adrian-brother, try this. I simmered it all night,” she said, her voice a soft murmur. “I just hope your wife likes it. She seems to be a late riser.” I ignored the barb in her words and walked straight to the stove, taking four eggs from the refrigerator. Adrian frowned, his tone laced with command. “Clara made you breakfast. Sit down and eat.” I paid him no mind, turning on the heat and adding oil to a pan. With a sizzle, the fragrant aroma of frying filled the air, a stark contrast to her bland, watery porridge. I expertly cracked four eggs into the pan, frying them to a perfect, sunny-side-up finish. I plated two for myself and two on a separate plate. A vein throbbed in Adrian’s temple. “Seraphina,” he said through clenched teeth, “do you have to be like this?” “Like what?” I pierced a yolk with my fork, watching the golden river flow out. I took a slow, deliberate bite before looking up at him with an innocent smile. “You have your sister’s breakfast of love, and I have my high-protein meal. Oh, and by the way,” I gestured to the other plate, “these are for my brother Larry. He’s taking me for a heavy weightlifting session later, and we’ll need the energy.” With that, I picked up both plates and, ignoring their stunned faces, walked into the villa’s home gym. Larry was already there, finishing his warm-up. A fine sheen of sweat coated his bronze skin, the air thick with the scent of raw masculinity. “Your energy supply,” I said, handing him the plate. He took it and started eating without ceremony. An hour later, Adrian appeared at the gym door, his face a thunderous mask. He had probably come to confront me, but the sight before him froze him in place. I was struggling through my last set of weighted squats, my energy nearly spent. Larry was standing directly behind me, his shirt off, sweat trickling down his defined abs. His hands were placed firmly on my waist, his hot palms pressing against the thin, sweat-dampened fabric of my workout top. “I can’t… I can’t get up…” I panted. “Don’t give up,” Larry’s voice was a low, magnetic hum right next to my ear. “Feel the power in your glutes. That’s it… I’ve got you. Don’t be afraid.” His chest was almost completely flush against my back, moving with me, the position intimate and seamless. From Adrian’s angle, it looked as if he was holding me in a full embrace. CRACK! Adrian couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his fist into the doorframe. Larry and I both turned. My face was flushed from the workout, while Larry slowly straightened up, wiped the sweat from his chest with a towel, and gave Adrian a provocative look. “Trouble sleeping, Adrian?” Adrian’s eyes were murderous. He stared at the damp imprints of Larry’s hands on my waist, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he was speechless. What could he say? That it was improper for a man and woman to be so close? His dear sister was sitting in the dining room. That our position was indecent? He had personally massaged Clara’s sprained ankle just last night. Watching his face contort with a rage he was forced to swallow, I felt a sliver of the original soul’s resentment begin to dissipate. Still breathing heavily, I flashed Larry a grateful, sweet smile. “Thank you, Larry-brother. Having you here gives me so much strength.” Adrian’s fists clenched so tightly I could hear the knuckles crack. Late that night, I had just stepped out of the shower when my bedroom door was thrown open. Adrian stood there, reeking of alcohol, his eyes bloodshot. He stalked toward me, his scent and the smell of liquor engulfing me. Before I could react, he had me pinned against the wall behind the door. “Seraphina,” his voice was hoarse, edged with fury, “what the hell do you want?” He didn’t wait for an answer. His scorching lips crashed down on mine. The kiss was an invasion, a punishment. It was less a kiss and more a beast’s bite. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and, when he tried to deepen it, I wrenched my head to the side. He froze, his chest heaving as he fought for control. After a long moment, he buried his face in my neck, his voice suddenly laced with a raw, wounded tone. “Do we have to be like this? You were never like this before.” I almost laughed out loud. When the original Seraphina had poured her heart out for him, he had ignored her. Now that I was giving him a taste of his own medicine, he was the one feeling wronged? I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the frantic drumming of his heart through his shirt. “Are you jealous?” I whispered. His body went rigid. He snapped his head up, his eyes boring into mine in the dim light. His lips parted, but no words came out. Finally, as if I had struck a nerve, he let me go and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The next day, I was at the city’s most exclusive luxury boutique, picking out a tie clip for Larry as a thank you for his stellar performance. When I went to pay, the cashier handed my black card back to me apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am. This card has been frozen.” Before I could say anything, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Adrian, dripping with condescension: When you figure out how to be a proper wife, you can come and talk to me. Until then, all of your cards have been suspended. He thought he had me. He thought, just like the original Seraphina, I would panic, lose my mind, and come crawling back to him, begging for scraps. I glanced at the text and a contemptuous smile touched my lips. I pulled out a second phone and made a call. “Mr. Davies? It’s Seraphina Lockhart. The trust fund my mother left me… I’m activating it. Now.” At three o’clock that afternoon, I stood on a stage, bathed in the blinding light of flashbulbs. Dressed in a sharp, white power suit, I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Larry Ryder, unveiled as his most important new business partner. I smiled brightly for the cameras. I knew Adrian would see it. After the successful press conference, Larry handed me a glass of champagne. “Congratulations, Seraphina. A brilliant counterattack.” Just as I was about to toast him, the phone in my purse began to vibrate violently. I pulled it out. The screen was filled with missed call notifications. More than twenty of them. All from Adrian. I ignored it and was about to turn the phone off when it lit up again. This time, it was the private line from the Vance family estate. I answered. There was a second of silence, then a stern, aged voice boomed through the speaker. “Seraphina, have you had your fun yet?!” The Chairman’s voice was as imperious as ever, as if I were still the meek little thing the Vance family could control. “My fun?” I scoffed. “Mr. Chairman, is your memory failing you? Your son brought his ‘dear sister’ into my home and cut off my finances, and you have the nerve to say that I’m the one causing trouble?” He was clearly taken aback by my sharp retort. “You…” “Me what?” I cut him off. “Go manage your incompetent son. As for me, from this day forward, I’ll do whatever makes me happy.” I hung up just before his thunderous roar could erupt from the speaker. For the next few days, an eerie calm settled over the villa. Adrian, surprisingly, didn’t go running to Clara. Instead, he seemed to be trying to mend things with me. He knew the annual Starlight Gala was approaching. It was the biggest event of the year for the city’s elite, and the Vance family could not afford to lose face. On the night of the gala, I slipped into a flame-red mermaid gown I had prepared long ago. Adrian stood behind me, fastening a diamond necklace around my neck. His reflection in the mirror was a storm of complex emotions. “After tonight, let’s talk,” he said, his arms wrapping around me from behind, his voice almost a plea. “Send Larry and Clara away. We can…” He never got to finish his sentence.

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In my past life, my parents died in a car crash. My twin sister and I were left behind. She was adopted by the richest man in the city, while I was taken in by a flashy, nouveau riche couple. The billionaire’s only son was a psychopath. My sister became his plaything—tortured, disfigured, and eventually paralyzed from the waist down. Meanwhile, the nouveau riche couple groomed me carefully. I entered the entertainment industry and became a rising star. Consumed by jealousy, my sister set a fire and burned me alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our adoption. This time, my sister threw herself at the feet of the nouveau riche couple, calling them Mom and Dad. She didn’t know. The billionaire’s son might be cruel, but he was just a fifteen-year-old boy with issues. The nouveau riche couple? They clawed their way up from the gutter. Their methods were far more sinister. How could a pig-brained girl like her survive them? In the end, she walked a path of self-destruction. As for me? I tamed the psycho brother. He pinned me against the wall, whispering, “Sister, you’ve been dishonest. Big brother has to punish you.” 1 “Auntie, Uncle, I want to be your daughter! I’ll be so good, I promise!” My twin sister, Chloe, ran up to the flashy couple, her voice sweet and pleading. The couple hesitated, whispering to each other. “They’re both ten, look the same. Which one should we pick?” Hearing this, Chloe sold herself even harder. “Pick me! Please! I’ll work hard to repay you for raising me!” Seeing her desperation, I knew. She had been reborn too. In our last life, the couple couldn’t decide between us. Then, the billionaire Mr. Sterling arrived with his son, Julian. Hearing “billionaire” and seeing the handsome boy, Chloe chose them first. I was left with the flashy couple, the Millers. But fifteen-year-old Julian was a monster. Mr. Sterling was always away on business, leaving Chloe at Julian’s mercy. He tortured her until she was unrecognizable and wheelchair-bound. 2 I, on the other hand, was carefully cultivated by the Millers. I became talented, beautiful, and poised. They spent a fortune paving my way into Hollywood. Within two years, I was a star. But behind the glamour lay a darkness I dared not remember. The Millers scrutinized me. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly pulled out a photo of our late parents and started crying. “Boohoo, Mom, Dad, I miss you so much… No one can ever replace you…” The Millers’ faces soured. The woman pointed at Chloe and whispered, “This one seems loyal. That one’s a lost cause. Let’s take her.” Chloe dropped to her knees, ecstatic. “Mom! Dad! I’ll listen to whatever you say!” Just then, the orphanage director arrived with Mr. Sterling. Seeing me crying over my parents’ photo, Mr. Sterling looked touched. He thought I was a girl who valued family. He decided to adopt me on the spot. Chloe sneered at me, whispering, “Sis, I’m so jealous. You got a billionaire dad and such a handsome brother!” Then she turned to Julian. “Big brother, she’s your family now. Take good care of her.” She emphasized “good” with malice. Julian ignored her, looking at me with amusement. Chloe gave me one last look—like she was looking at a dead person—took the Millers’ hands, and left without looking back. I watched them go and sighed in relief. Sister, congratulations on taking my place in hell. In our past life, while Chloe was being broken by Julian, I became a household name thanks to the Millers. I starred in a blockbuster movie and won Best Actress. To the outside world, I was in heaven, and she was in hell. Chloe thought so too. She blamed me for her misery. When she set the fire that killed me, she didn’t know I had wanted to die for a long time. 3 She didn’t know that the heaven she was rushing toward was the real hell. Thinking of this, I looked at Julian sitting beside me. Compared to the nightmares of my past life, he looked like an angel. After all, what psycho brother doesn’t love his little sister? Chloe failed because she was stupid. In the car, Julian noticed me staring. He said coldly, “Seen enough?” His expression was terrifying for a fifteen-year-old. Dark and heavy. My heart jumped. Time to start the conquest. “Big brother, I’ve never seen a boy as good-looking as you. Are you really going to be my brother?” I smiled sweetly, eyes full of admiration and longing. Julian turned to look at me. A hint of mockery flashed in his cold eyes. “You really want to be my sister?” … Duh! I’m ten years old and your dad just adopted me. Do I have a choice? “Yes! I’m so happy to have a brother to love me!” I feigned joy, then quickly turned anxious, lowering my head and twisting the hem of my ragged shirt. “But… you probably don’t like me either. At the orphanage, no one liked me. Everyone hated me…” Julian paused, speaking stiffly. “I don’t hate you.” I stopped sniffing and threw my arms around his waist. “Yay! Brother doesn’t hate me! Brother likes me!” Julian stiffened instantly. He shoved me away, his gaze turning dark again. “Get off. Don’t touch me without my permission.” … Classic psycho behavior. Moody. Mr. Sterling laughed from the front seat, telling Julian to get along with me. I knew this house would essentially be just me and Julian. Mr. Sterling was always flying around the world. Julian was the only constant. As long as I handled this psycho, I’d be safe. At the villa, the butler arranged for my room to be right next to Julian’s. 4 From then on, I began my campaign to tame my psycho brother. On the first day of school, I clung to his arm and cried, “Brother, don’t leave me! I’m scared, waah…” Julian looked at me, snot and tears running down my face like an abandoned puppy. He couldn’t bring himself to shake me off. I became his biggest fan. “My brother” was always on my lips, said with pride. When I was sick, I refused medicine unless Julian coaxed me. I pestered him to help with homework, demanding hugs as rewards when I got it right. I was his shadow, sticking to him everywhere. Three years passed. Julian grew used to my dependence. He stopped flinching at my touch. Even the butler remarked, “I’ve never seen the Young Master care for anyone like this. Miss, you are lucky.” Hearing that, I knew I had him. That night, during a thunderstorm, I crept into Julian’s bed. He came out of the shower and saw me, his face darkening immediately. “Brother, I’m scared! I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?” Before he could explode, I started crying. Julian’s face was a mix of anger, murderous intent, and deep helplessness. I thought, Oops, did I push too far? So I climbed off the bed, sobbing, “I’m sorry, brother. When I was little, Mommy always held me during storms. I just miss Mom…” A flicker of softness passed through Julian’s eyes. He muttered a curse. Just as I hugged my pillow to leave, he yanked me back. “Sleep on the edge. And stay still. Hear me?” I was shocked. It worked? That night, I slept in the same bed as Julian. Feeling him gently patting my back, a strange emotion welled up in me. I knew him from my past life. He wasn’t always a monster to Chloe. His mother died young, and his father was absent. He craved love. But Chloe, once she became the heiress, was vain and hung out with the wrong crowd. She saw Julian as a rival for the inheritance.

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1. The moment the public apology went live, the comments section exploded. Within three minutes, it was already at 99+. A private message popped up from Liam, the junior I was forced to apologize to. His words dripped with scorn. “Sebastian, the only thing you have on me is luck. You just happened to meet her first. In what other way are you better than me?” “All I had to do was shed a few tears, and she immediately made you bow down and apologize.” “So what if you have a marriage contract? As long as I’m not happy, you two will never get married.” He followed it up with a screenshot, a blatant boast showing two first-class tickets to Paris. My fiancée was taking him on a trip to cheer him up. I was about to lock my phone when a new notification appeared. It was Liam, commenting publicly on the apology post: “Everyone, please don’t be so hard on Mr. Padel. It was my fault, too…” Less than a minute later, my fiancée replied directly to his comment. “Don’t take all the blame, Liam. This was clearly Sebastian’s fault from the beginning.” My colleagues piled on, accusing my apology of being insincere, its every word dripping with resentment and sarcasm towards Liam. Someone tagged me. I ignored it. A moment later, my phone began to ring. It was my fiancée, Isabella, calling to rake me over the coals. She called again. And again. Thinking of her boundless, unconditional defense of Liam, I calmly powered off my phone, silencing the incessant ringing. Isabella Padel and I had been engaged since we were children. The agreement was simple: upon our marriage, I would bring 5% of my family’s old company shares as a dowry, and in return, I would join the Padel family and their corporate empire. But ever since she brought her protégé from her alma mater, Liam, into the company, her world had begun to revolve around him. Whatever Liam wanted, Isabella delivered it to him on a silver platter. Even a project I had slaved over for months could be casually tossed his way as a gift to soothe his feelings. A few days later, Isabella came home in a rush. The moment she walked in, she ordered me to pack a few suitcases for her. She had a business trip. I remembered the Paris tickets Liam had sent me. “A business trip,” I said, my voice heavy with irony, “or a vacation?” She heard the edge in my tone and immediately assumed I was still sulking about the apology. Her brow furrowed. “It was your fault, Sebastian. You have no right to be angry. If I hadn’t stepped in to mediate, your own colleagues would have run you out of the company.” “This is a critical project,” she continued, softening slightly. “I have to go myself. Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as it’s over. It won’t delay the wedding.” Seeing my silence, she seemed to relax, thinking I had accepted her “greater good” reasoning. She changed the subject, asking what gift I wanted her to bring back. In the past, she always brought me a souvenir from her trips. I used to cherish them. Then I discovered by accident that they were all things she had first offered to Liam—gifts he had rejected or deemed unworthy. The memory soured my mood. “Whatever,” I said flatly. Sensing my lack of interest, she had the housekeeper finish her packing and turned to accept a gift box from Arthur, our butler. She held it out to me. “A reward. For your generosity with the shares.” I glanced inside. It was an expensive watch, a rare vintage piece. Except, I had seen this exact watch on Liam’s wrist just a few days ago. So, this was a fake. A cheap knock-off she was passing off as a reward to shut me up. She saw me smile and mistook it for pleasure. She moved to put it on my wrist. As her fingers reached for the watch, I flinched back, a reflex I couldn’t control. She froze, her expression turning awkward. “You… you don’t like it?” I caught the flicker of guilt in her eyes. After a long moment, I said one word: “Expensive.” She visibly relaxed, relieved. She was about to offer some hollow words of comfort when her phone buzzed with an urgent ring. A glance at the screen, and she quickly stepped out of the walk-in closet to answer. The moment she picked up, Liam’s whining voice drifted down the hall. “Bella, where are you? I’m getting impatient down here…” I casually tossed the watch into a drawer. Arthur, the butler, saw me and drew a sharp breath. “Sir, you’ve always treasured the mistress’s gifts. What’s changed?” Treasured them? I practically worshipped them, enshrined them like holy relics. But ever since Liam had entered our lives, Isabella had allowed him to rummage through my things, to take whatever caught his fancy from the gifts she’d given me. I had argued with her about it, and she’d called me selfish and petty before turning around and buying Liam something even better, even more expensive. Isabella ended her call and strode back in, grabbing her luggage from Arthur. “I have to go,” she said hurriedly. “Make sure you follow up on the custom wedding suits. Don’t let anything delay the ceremony.” She moved to hug me, but I instinctively took a step back. A confused look crossed her face. She started to say something, but the thought of Liam waiting outside seemed to win out. She awkwardly dropped her hands, grabbed her coat from the housekeeper, and rushed out the door. I stood by the window and watched as Liam gallantly opened the car door for her. She practically jumped inside, eager to be with him. That car. It was the first gift Isabella had ever given me. A classic sports car. I had kept it in the garage, pristine, never driving it for fear of damaging something so precious, a symbol of her affection. Then Liam saw it. And with a wave of her hand, Isabella gave it to him. “You don’t have a license anyway, Sebastian,” she had said. “You can’t use it. Liam lives far from the office; he could use a reliable car. This way, he’ll be more productive for the company. I’ll buy you a better one when you finally get around to taking your test.” I had said nothing, just watched as Liam took the keys and immediately coaxed her into going for a joyride with him. I had to smile at the memory. The truth was, I’d had my driver’s license for years. It was sitting in the drawer of my bedside table. She had just never cared enough to notice. As the car disappeared down the driveway, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “I need to cancel the order for the custom-made bridal shoes.” “Yes, I understand. I’ll cover any and all cancellation fees.” 2. They were meant to be my wedding gift to Isabella, a surprise to make her happy on our big day. But now, it was clear they would never be worn. The next day, I arrived at the office with my resignation letter in hand. The moment I walked in, I was met with hostile stares. I was used to it. I calmly walked to my desk. I could only imagine what new lies Liam had been spreading. He was constantly whispering about me to our colleagues. At first, I didn’t care, but the misunderstandings piled up until any attempt to defend myself was dismissed as a weak excuse. Eventually, I just stopped trying. While I was getting a cup of tea, my phone buzzed relentlessly. 99+ notifications. All from Liam. I didn’t have to open them to know what they were: a stream of photos documenting his blissful time with Isabella. The timestamp in the corner of each picture showed he was sending them around the clock. I’d never seen Isabella so patient, so engaged. In all our years together, she had never been like this with me. She had never laughed with such genuine, uninhibited joy. In every photo, she was radiant. It was a side of her I had never been allowed to see. I remembered the year I bought her a professional camera for her birthday. I’d secretly taken photography classes for months, wanting to capture her beauty. When I gave it to her, her face fell. “I’ve always hated having my picture taken,” she’d said, her voice cold. “As my fiancé, how could you not know that? Or is this some kind of power play?” “Stop pretending you know me, Sebastian. It’s disgusting.” She didn’t speak to me for a month after that. I had to work myself to the bone on two major projects to secure her promotion to Vice President before she would even look at me again. The difference between being loved and not being loved… it’s painfully obvious. When you love someone, you cherish everything they are, everything they do. I put my phone away and walked straight to HR to submit my resignation. When I returned to my desk to hand over my work, I realized there wasn’t much to hand over. Most of my projects had been stripped from me weeks ago, given to Liam as peace offerings. The handover took less than an hour. As I was packing my personal effects, the head of the project department stormed over, slamming a rejected bid proposal on my desk. “Sebastian! You were in charge of this bid! The client just called, furious. There are major errors in the proposal. I want an explanation, now!” The surrounding colleagues, already poisoned against me by Liam’s stories, saw their chance. This was their moment to play the hero. “How could you screw up such an important project? Do you have any idea how much this meant to Ms. Padel?” “I can’t believe they let him handle it. If Liam had been in charge, this never would have happened.” “You think his salary can even begin to cover this loss?” “Cover it? He couldn’t afford to. They should just fire him and be done with it.” I ignored their chatter and glanced at the proposal’s cover sheet. A cold smile touched my lips. “This wasn’t my project. It was Liam’s.” Kevin, one of Liam’s most devoted sycophants, scoffed. “Can’t even take responsibility for your own mistakes? Are you a man? We all know this was your project. Now you’re trying to pin it on Liam? Do you think we’re all blind?” The others murmured in agreement. Just then, an HR representative walked over. “Your resignation has been approved, Sebastian.” Kevin’s face twisted into a sneer. “Trying to run away now? It’s too late. You’d better figure out how you’re going to compensate the company and explain this to Ms. Padel.” “You’re a disease,” he spat. “The company should have cut you out long ago. If it wasn’t for Liam, always defending you, Ms. Padel would have thrown you out on the street ages ago.” His words lit a fire. The mob mentality took over. They decided I was a blight on the office and needed to be removed immediately. Within minutes, they had shoved all my belongings into a black trash bag and tossed it out the office door. Kevin stood over me, his arms crossed. “Well? Are you going to leave, or do we have to make you?” I looked at him, this pathetic, spineless yes-man, puffed up with borrowed power. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Twice. Then, leaving him and the others in a state of stunned silence, I walked out of the company for the last time. 3. A few days later, Liam sent me another barrage of photos. This time, it was a professional photoshoot. “By the way,” his message read, “you and Isabella have been together for so long. Have you ever had a professional portrait session? I’ve never seen a single photo of you two at her place. Don’t tell me you don’t even have one picture together… how pathetic.” I was about to block him when I accidentally opened one of the images. The theme of the photoshoot was a wedding. My vision darkened. So, the man Isabella intended to marry was Liam. It suddenly occurred to me that our own wedding was just around the corner, and we still hadn’t taken any engagement photos. I had brought it up with Isabella multiple times, but she always brushed me off, saying she was too busy with work. Her “work,” it turned out, was taking Liam on romantic getaways. My mother called just then, asking about the wedding preparations. “Sebastian, darling, you must double-check everything. We can’t have any mistakes. It would be an embarrassment to the Padel family.” “And if you need anything, you tell me. Our family may have lost its standing, but we will not be bullied by anyone.” An image of Isabella, radiant in a wedding gown and smiling at Liam, flashed through my mind. “Mom,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m not getting married.” She thought I was throwing another tantrum. “Sebastian, Isabella is a woman. Can’t you just be the bigger person? You’re about to walk down the aisle. You can’t do it with a sour look on your face.” Be the bigger person? How many times had I been the bigger person? How many times had I watched her sacrifice my work, my dignity, to appease Liam? How many times had I swallowed my pride when she took him on trips alone? I had told myself it would get better, that if I was just patient, she would come around. But she only pushed further, and now this. A wedding shoot with another man. This time, I was done being the bigger person. Sensing my silence, my mother gave me a few parting words of advice and hung up. A little while later, Arthur came to my room. The custom-tailored wedding suit and gown had arrived. He said Isabella had already gone to the boutique and was waiting for me. I was surprised. I hadn’t expected her back for at least another week. She never cut her trips short. Could it be that this wedding actually meant something to her? But if it did, why had she been completely absent from the planning, leaving everything to me? I scoffed at my own foolish hope, went to the garage, and drove to the bridal shop. As I approached the entrance, I heard raised voices. It was Liam and Isabella, arguing. “Why do you have to marry him?” Liam demanded. “You’ve been chained to that ridiculous contract your whole life! Are you going to let him ruin your future too?” “You love me! When you’re with me, you shine! You’re alive!” “I can’t bear to see you unhappy. If you go through with this wedding, I’ll… I’ll kill myself right in front of you!” Isabella was stunned into silence. Seeing her hesitation, Liam’s emotions boiled over. He grabbed a letter opener from the counter and dragged it across his wrist. Isabella screamed, lunging forward to snatch it away. She grabbed a swatch of fabric, pressing it against the bleeding cut. He shoved her away. “Don’t stop me! Let me die! At least then I won’t have to watch you suffer every day!” Terrified he would try again, she nodded frantically, agreeing to anything. Seeing her surrender, Liam’s face broke into a tearful, triumphant smile. She tried to take him to the hospital, but he refused. “I want you to announce it,” he said, pressing his advantage. “On your wedding day, in front of everyone. You will tell them that I am your groom, and that Sebastian is just some pathetic stalker who’s been obsessed with you. It’s the lesson he deserves.” Isabella looked at the blood soaking through the fabric, and she agreed. I turned and walked away from the shop. I pulled the simple silver ring from my finger—the one she had given me when we first got engaged—and tossed it into a curbside trash can. 4. When I got home, the sound of a cooking show was echoing from the kitchen. The living room was a disaster zone, ingredients strewn everywhere. In the kitchen, I found Isabella, flustered and surrounded by mess. She had been up all night, trying to learn how to make a restorative soup for her dear Liam. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Sebastian! You’re good at making soup, aren’t you? Come and teach me. I need to make something for Liam. Something to replenish his… energy.” The bright, eager look on her face was one I recognized. I had seen it once before, the day I agreed to sign over my 5% share in the family company. I never thought I’d see it again, especially not for another man. I glanced at the red, scalded marks on the back of her hand. “We have a chef for that,” I said coldly. “You don’t have to do it yourself.” “You don’t understand,” she cut me off, her eyes shining. “It means more when you make it yourself.” I looked into those bright eyes. I, too, had once poured my heart into making nourishing broths for her, ignoring the servants who whispered that I acted more like a maid than the master of the house. She had shown no gratitude then. She had mocked me, and once, she had even thrown a bowl of scalding soup at my legs, leaving a scar that never faded. I took an involuntary step back. She saw it as defiance. Her expression hardened instantly. “Are you still angry about the apology?” she snapped. “I already promised you, didn’t I? After the wedding, I’ll buy you any car you want.” “Besides, our wedding is in three days. I’ll make sure you’re the most envied man in the city.” I didn’t answer. I just turned and walked up the stairs. Her temper flared. She grabbed the spatula she was holding and hurled it at me. It struck me squarely in the back. Later, I came downstairs to find Arthur carefully bandaging her arm. She had failed to make the soup and had only managed to burn herself badly in the process. She saw me and her face contorted with rage. “You’re nothing like Liam! Liam would never treat me this way!” she screamed. “He…” “Then cancel the wedding,” I said, my voice cutting through her tirade. “Since I’m not the one you want to marry anyway.” Isabella shot to her feet, aghast. The bandage slipped, revealing an arm covered in blisters. Tears welled in her eyes. “Sebastian, how dare you! Say that again!” I was momentarily stunned. I couldn’t believe she would go to such lengths for him. I took a deep breath. “We’re breaking up. The wedding is off. Do I need to repeat myself?” She stared at me, disbelief warring with contempt. “Is this a game to you, Sebastian?” she sneered. “You were the one who insisted on this wedding. Now you’re the one trying to call it off. Do you really think these pathetic threats will give you some kind of control over me? You’re dreaming.” I wasn’t going to argue. I packed a suitcase, walked out the door, and booked a flight out of the country for that night. Before I left, I prepared a video—a personal monologue—to be played at the wedding instead of a photo montage. I gave it to Arthur, my final gift to Isabella. He, thinking it was a romantic surprise, promised to play it on the big day. He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed with concern. “Sir, that blow you took to your back… are you alright?” I paused, then managed a small smile. “I’m fine.” When Isabella got angry, she threw things. She never considered the consequences. Over the years, I’d gotten used to it. Besides, the pain from that little spatula was already gone. As I watched the other passengers board the plane, I sent one last voice message to Isabella. “Congratulations on your wedding, Isabella. You and Liam deserve each other. I hope you like my gift.” A red exclamation point appeared next to the message. Of course. She had blocked me long ago. The cabin announcement for takeoff began. As the plane lifted off the ground, I smiled at my dark phone screen and whispered, “Goodbye, Isabella.”

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One week before the college entrance exams, I, the top student predicted to be the valedictorian, stabbed a needle into my own eye. In my past life, during the last mock exam, my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Chloe, accused me of copying her. When the teacher compared our papers, he found our essays were identical. He criticized me on the spot and warned me not to do it again. However, during the math exam, Chloe accused me of copying her again. After checking, our answers were identical once more. The teacher scolded me harshly for being unrepentant and sent me home to reflect. I couldn’t understand it. I clearly didn’t cheat. Yet, whether it was English or Math, my answers were nearly identical to Chloe’s. As the college entrance exam approached, I had to suppress my doubts and enter the exam hall. After finishing the English paper, I thought I was safe. Unexpectedly, Chloe stood up again to accuse me of cheating. I tried to defend myself, but the answers on my paper were still identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified from the exam and kicked out. Moreover, I was banned from taking any national educational exams for two years due to cheating. In despair, I jumped from the roof. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one week before the college entrance exam. 1 “Mia! Why did you copy Chloe’s exam paper? Even the essay is word-for-word identical!” “You’re the top student in the grade!” The homeroom teacher’s angry shout exploded in my ears. I looked up, meeting his eyes filled with anger and disappointment. I turned my head blankly to look around. I saw Chloe glaring at me viciously. She curled her lip and shrieked, “Mia, you’re so shameless, even copying my essay!” I trembled all over, struck by lightning, finally realizing I had been reborn. Reborn to the moment Chloe first falsely accused me of copying her. In my past life, the school organized the last mock exam a week before the college entrance exam. Near the end of the English exam, Chloe, sitting next to me, suddenly raised her hand and shouted: “Teacher, Mia is copying my paper!” The homeroom teacher looked shocked, and I found it absurd. I had consistently ranked first in the grade for years; why would I copy her paper? Chloe glared at me, eyes certain, provoking, “Teacher, if you don’t believe me, compare our papers.” I handed my paper to the teacher first. Chloe was my boyfriend Tyler’s childhood friend. Ever since I got together with Tyler, she had found fault with everything I did. I thought this was just another one of her tricks against me. I was used to it and didn’t take it to heart. But after the teacher finished reading the papers, the look he gave me instantly turned into utter shock. “Mia, what are you doing? Why did you copy Chloe’s paper!?” My mind went blank. How could I have copied Chloe’s paper? Chloe lifted her chin, face full of triumph, “Mia, don’t deny it. Look for yourself, even the essay is copied. You’re despicable!” I took the paper and looked; it was exactly as she said. 2 Even the essays were identical. I was confused and shocked. How was this possible!? I clearly did the paper myself. I tried desperately to explain, but no one believed me. After all, the two papers were identical. The teacher thought I was under too much pressure as the exams approached. He comforted me with a few words and told me not to do it again. During the math exam in the afternoon, Chloe raised her hand again. “Teacher, Mia is too shameless, she’s copying my paper again!” After checking, the teacher found my answers were identical to Chloe’s again. His face darkened immediately, scolding me for being unrepentant and sending me home to reflect. During those days at home, I racked my brains. But I couldn’t figure out why, even though I didn’t cheat, my answers for both English and Math were identical to Chloe’s, even the essays. In the college entrance exam hall, I cleared my mind and focused on answering. With the exams being so strict, it was impossible for the previous situation to happen again. After finishing the English paper, I felt confident. But as soon as the bell rang ending the exam, Chloe, sitting to my left, raised her hand. “Proctor, I want to report the student next to me for copying my paper!” Two proctors immediately stepped forward to check. Once again, my answers were identical to Chloe’s! The punishment came quickly. For two years, I couldn’t take any national educational exams. Born into a poor family, the college entrance exam was my only chance to change my destiny. Losing this chance meant I had no future. In despair, I jumped from the roof. But unexpectedly, God let me live again. This time, I will rewrite the ending! Seeing my silence, the teacher thought I had tacitly admitted it. He tapped my desk, heartbroken. 3 “Mia, I know the pressure of the college entrance exam is huge for you, but your grades are excellent. As long as you perform normally, getting into an Ivy League school is no problem. You don’t need to do this at all.” I snapped back from the immense shock, frowning deeply, just nodding slightly without defending myself. Like in my past life, no one would believe me even if I spoke out. After all, Chloe and I had identical essays. Chloe raised her eyebrows and sneered, “Maybe all of Mia’s previous exam results were copied, and I just happened to catch her this time.” As soon as she finished speaking, the surrounding students looked at me differently, full of suspicion and disdain. The teacher gave me a deep look but didn’t say anything more. Reborn, I must find a way to cope. For the second exam, Math, in the afternoon, I planned to hand in a blank paper. As long as I didn’t answer, she couldn’t accuse me of copying her. Seeing I hadn’t moved my pen, the teacher stood beside me to remind me. Chloe glanced over, seeing my paper still blank. She immediately mocked, “Teacher, I was right. Mia must have copied before. Now that you’re watching, she can’t answer!” Meeting her contemptuous gaze, I picked up my pen, took a deep breath, and scribbled nonsense on the paper. If I wrote nonsense answers, she couldn’t possibly say I copied. “Fifteen minutes left until the end of the exam, please hurry up.” As soon as the teacher finished speaking, Chloe beside me raised her hand again. She glared at me, gritting her teeth, and shouted, “Teacher, Mia is too shameless, she copied my paper again!” The teacher’s face darkened, picking up our papers to compare. I glanced at Chloe; her plan was going to fail this time. My answers were completely irrelevant nonsense. Bang! The teacher was furious, slamming the test paper heavily on my desk. “Mia!” A bad premonition rose, and I quickly picked up the two papers. Even my fabricated answers were identical to what was written on Chloe’s paper. Word for word! I was dumbfounded again. I clearly wrote nonsense, how could it still be identical to hers? 4 The teacher’s face turned red with anger, and he said sternly, “Mia, you are truly incorrigible! Go home and reflect immediately, don’t come to school before the college entrance exam!” I numbly packed my things, ready to go home. I really couldn’t figure out why the answers I wrote casually were still identical to Chloe’s. Before leaving the classroom, Chloe stopped me. She had a smile on her face, but it was sinister and terrifying. “Mia, it seems all your previous grades were copied. What will you do for the college entrance exam?” “The college entrance exam is the only chance for a poor person like you to change your fate. If you can’t copy, you’re dead meat!” She finished speaking and strode away with a malicious smile. Chloe was right; the college entrance exam was my only chance to change my fate. Missing this opportunity meant a dead end for me. So I absolutely cannot repeat the same mistakes! Just as I walked out of the school gate, an urgent voice came from behind. “Mia, stop right there!” I turned around sharply and saw my boyfriend Tyler looking livid. He rushed up to me, pointed his finger at me, and raged: “How can you be so shameless? I always thought you had good grades and were a good student. I didn’t expect your grades were all copied.” “Of all people to copy, you copied Chloe. Mia, who gave you the nerve!” I sneered. I was blind to have liked him in my past life. Seeing my silence, he threatened viciously again, “I warn you, if you dare bully Chloe again and copy her paper, I’ll dump you!” I rolled my eyes directly and said coldly, “Wrong, I’m dumping you now. Stay away from me!” With that, ignoring his stunned expression, I turned and left. Now I’m busy saving my life, no time to entangle with him. Back home, I stayed indoors, preparing for the upcoming college entrance exam. Soon, the day of the exam arrived, and I came to the exam center. Just about to enter, a hand suddenly grabbed me. By the familiar feeling, I knew it was Chloe. Her usual sharp sneer rang in my ear. “Mia, you’ve copied for so many years. This is the college entrance exam, I want to see how you copy me!” Followed by Tyler’s viciously disdainful voice: “The exam is so strict, let’s see how you copy Chloe’s paper. You’re dead!”

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Before the final exam of my senior year, my daughter threatened that if I didn’t buy her the entire Apple ecosystem, she wouldn’t take the test. For her future, I gritted my teeth and agreed. After she successfully finished her exams and got her Apple products, she came home and presented me with a graduation gift wishlist. It added up to nearly $15,000, money I simply didn’t have. She turned around and shamed me online, ranting that “if you can’t afford to raise a child, don’t have one,” and threatened that if I didn’t buy her these gifts, she would refuse to apply for college. I was cyberbullied to the point of a mental breakdown and had to take out loans to satisfy her demands just so she would go to college. Little did I know, this was just the beginning. In college, she constantly competed with her classmates—demanding luxury clothes and bags, renting a high-end apartment, asking for expensive plastic surgery… I couldn’t afford it. In a fit of rage, she pushed me into the river, claimed a huge insurance payout, and squandered it all with a delinquent boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before the final exam of her senior year, listening to my daughter threaten not to take the test. I smiled brightly: “Fine, don’t take it! Go straight to work in a factory and save me the tuition.” 1 “Mom, everyone in my class is getting the full Apple suite for graduation. I don’t care, if I don’t have it, I’m not taking the last History exam.” “I might as well not go to college and just work to buy it myself. Using a cheap phone is embarrassing anyway, I’d rather be dead.” Hearing my daughter Chloe’s familiar threats, I realized I had been reborn. Checking my phone, it was exactly noon on the last day of the college entrance exams in my previous life. Less than half an hour before the final History exam. Looking at my daughter sulking outside the exam center, I felt no anxiety. After all, the despair of being pushed into the river by her without hesitation in my past life was too deeply etched in my memory. I closed my eyes, mourning the ungrateful wretch I had painstakingly raised. When I opened them again, I wore a look of relief. “Chloe, you’ve grown up. You know how to feel sorry for your mom.” She was confused: “What do you mean? You agreed?” I smiled brightly: “Fine, whatever you say. Don’t take the exam! Go straight to work at a factory tomorrow and save me a fortune in tuition.” “Perfect, I’ll use the money I saved for your college to go on a trip. It’s been years since I relaxed.” My daughter’s face fell, looking even uglier than before. “Mom, how can you think like that? If you use the tuition for travel, how will I go to college?” See, she didn’t really want to skip college. She just knew too well that for a mother, nothing was a better bargaining chip than her child’s future. I looked surprised: “Didn’t you say you weren’t going? I have to respect your decision. You’re an adult now, anyway. My job raising you is done.” In my past life, she often complained to teachers, classmates, and relatives that I didn’t respect her opinions, and that her father divorced me because I was too controlling. Even though she knew perfectly well that we divorced because her father cheated. She made everyone stereotype me as a controlling single mother who became twisted after losing her husband, suffocating her daughter. So later, when I died “accidentally,” many people thought I deserved it and even comforted my daughter, saying she was finally free of her suffocating mother. “Mom, if I don’t go to college, I won’t find a good job. How will I support myself? I’ll still have to come back and mooch off you.” Seeing my nonchalance, my daughter got anxious. I waved my hand dismissively: “It’s fine. Didn’t you say you wanted to work in a factory to buy whatever you want? That means you can definitely support yourself.” “If it really doesn’t work out, and one day I can’t work anymore and you have no money, we’ll just die together. I’ve lived long enough anyway.” Threatening with death? Like I don’t know how to do that. Threats only work if you care more than she does. But now, I didn’t care. 2 My daughter’s expression was priceless; she was speechless for a long time. But since I had centered my life around her for so many years, she bet that I wouldn’t really abandon her. So she sat under a tree and started playing games on her phone, acting like she really wouldn’t take the exam. Fortunately, I was more resolute than her. While she wasn’t looking, I took her exam admission ticket from beside her and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Let’s go, Chloe. Before checkout time, let’s go back to the hotel for a nap.” Her eyes widened, unable to believe I actually threw away her ticket. She even forgot her game. After reacting, she screamed. “Mom, what are you doing?!” “Hurry up, it’s too hot. Since you’re not taking the exam, that piece of paper is useless.” I urged impatiently, pulling her to walk back. She was dragged along by me, but her steps were heavy as lead, looking back at that trash can every few steps. As the exam time drew closer, we were getting farther and farther away from the exam center… Her breathing became more anxious, her forehead and palms sweaty. I, on the other hand, felt lighter and lighter, even humming a tune. When we were almost at the hotel, she finally couldn’t take it anymore and flung my hand away. “Why do you get to decide if I take the exam or not? What kind of heartless, selfish mother are you! I won’t let you have your way!” She threw these words at me and ran back toward the exam center. Our hotel was diagonally opposite the exam site, a few hundred meters away. I watched her sprint to the trash can, dig out her admission ticket, and then dash towards the school. Finally, she made it into the exam center a second before the gates closed. So she knew how important the exam was for herself. And here I thought she was taking it for me. I sneered and went straight back to the hotel. I planned to take a nap and then carefully plan my future. Because I was done with this ungrateful wretch. 3 Taking care of my daughter for the exams had exhausted me physically and mentally. But lying in bed, I couldn’t sleep. Closing my eyes only brought regret. I couldn’t help but wonder, what did I do wrong to raise such a heartless child? Chloe’s dad gave $500 a month in child support, and not always on time. I bore almost all the major expenses. Money wasn’t tight, but I was never stingy with what she needed. Worried that a single-parent household disadvantaged her, I prioritized her needs, even if it meant skimping on myself. Thinking back, perhaps it was this lack of financial concept and my constant compromises that made her appetite grow bigger and bigger. In my past life, before entering the exam room, she demanded the Apple suite. To give her peace of mind for the exam, despite my tight budget, I gritted my teeth and agreed. Even though I was still using a $200 Android phone from three years ago. The latest iPhone, MacBook, iPad, AirPods, and Apple Watch cost nearly $4,000, which was three months of my salary. With my income in a second-tier city, it didn’t seem completely unbearable. But after paying for our daily expenses, mortgage, car loan, and utilities, there was barely anything left. Spending three months’ salary at once meant I had to find other ways to fill the hole. But I was just a nurse working shifts day and night. My income was hard-earned; where would I find extra channels and time to make more money? But since I promised, I delivered. I bought her the Apple suite that day. The college entrance exam happens once in a lifetime. Seeing my daughter happy, I thought the hardship was worth it. Little did I know, this was just the beginning. 4 Her happiness lasted only two days. She found some guide online and gave me a graduation gift wishlist, telling me to buy everything on it. Looking at the list totaling nearly $15,000, I felt dizzy. I couldn’t come up with that much money immediately. My daughter was furious. She went online and shamed me, saying “if you can’t afford to raise a child, don’t have one.” She even threatened that if I didn’t buy these gifts, she would refuse to apply for college. I was cyberbullied to the point of a breakdown. I had to use my savings and take out loans to barely scrape together enough money for the gift list before she would agree to go to college. Later, she became more and more excessive, constantly competing with classmates in college— Demanding luxury clothes and bags, renting high-end apartments, asking for expensive cosmetic surgery… I couldn’t afford it at all. In a fit of rage, while we were taking a walk, she pushed me into the river. Then, with the $500,000 insurance payout, she lived it up with a delinquent boyfriend. Fortunately, dying once made me see people’s hearts clearly and woke me up. Besides being a mother, I am myself. Why can’t I live for myself just once?

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