Category: English

Chapter 1 I had sponsored a struggling student for three years, and when she wanted a summer job, I arranged for her to work at my husband’s company. A few months later, she burst into my office with a bulging belly, tearfully accusing me: “I knew it! You never had good intentions when you sponsored me!” “Now I’m pregnant with CEO Smith’s child, and he’s suddenly disappeared. Did you hide him?” Her brother looked even more ferocious, pointing at my nose and yelling: “If it weren’t for your fake kindness, how would my sister have met such a scumbag?” “Getting her pregnant and then trying to run? No way!” “Either pay up or get a divorce and let her be Mrs. Smith. It’s your choice!” The news spread quickly, and the internet was full of curses. Everyone said I was a pimp, using the guise of sponsoring poor students to find mistresses for my husband. But I just laughed. If she could really get pregnant by my husband, I’d have to apply for a patent. … I was grading papers when my office door was slammed open by a menacing man. “Where’s your husband, Cheng? Did you hide him?” “He got my sister pregnant and wants to run? In his dreams!” Fang Ting stood behind him, protecting her belly, her eyes red. Beside her was a girl live-streaming the whole thing. I frowned. “Fang Ting, why are you here?” Fang Ting choked up, “Ms. Cheng, I really have no other way. CEO Smith is missing, I can’t find him…” “And I have a special condition; the doctor says I can’t have an abortion…” I leaned back and looked at her quietly. “So? What do you want by coming here today?” Fang Qiang sneered, “Two options! Either let Smith marry my sister! Or pay up! My sister is a top student at an Ivy League school, and your beast of a husband ruined her!” The girl holding the phone immediately chimed in, “Guys, look at this ‘teacher’! She pretends to help poor students but is actually pimping for her husband! Fang Ting is so pitiful. She worked so hard to get out of the countryside, only to fall into this trap!” The comments were scrolling frantically: “Real or fake? This teacher looks quiet, but she’s worse than a beast!” “Exactly! The girl looks barely eighteen or nineteen. Her life is ruined!” A crowd of curious students gathered at the office door, their whispers growing louder. I stood up, walked to the water cooler, poured a cup, and took a sip. “Are you done?” Fang Qiang raged, “What’s with your attitude! My sister is carrying your husband’s seed!” “Impossible,” I tossed the paper cup into the trash can. “The child in her belly is absolutely not my husband’s.” Fang Ting’s eyes instantly turned red. “Ms. Cheng, I know it’s hard for you to accept, but it’s the truth! That night, CEO Smith got me drunk, and when I woke up… he said he truly liked me…” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “CEO Smith told you himself that he liked you?” Fang Ting nodded vigorously and pulled a stack of photos from her bag. “These are the evidence, Ms. Cheng. If I’m lying, may lightning strike me!” I glanced at the photos. The angles were tricky, but I could see Smith’s profile and Fang Ting leaning on him. The hotel surveillance screenshot was clear, dated one night three months ago. “The photos are real,” I said. Fang Qiang immediately gloated, “See! I told you…” “But the child isn’t my husband’s,” I interrupted him. “Fang Ting, if you leave now, I can pretend this never happened. If you keep making a scene, I’ll call the police.” Chapter 2 The girl live-streaming immediately screamed: “We should be the ones calling the police! Ms. Cheng, your husband raped a college student and got her pregnant. You’re an accomplice!” The live stream chat exploded: “Is this teacher crazy? The evidence is solid, and she’s still denying it!” “Where’s the dean? Why isn’t she fired yet?” “Don’t be afraid, Fang Ting. Tens of thousands of us support you!” Several female students watching at the door were already teary-eyed. “Fang Ting is so pitiful! Betrayed by the teacher she trusted most and given to an old man!” “Exactly, someone like her doesn’t deserve to be a teacher!” Fang Ting clutched her belly, crying so hard she could barely stand. I felt a chill in my heart. Three years ago, I traveled to Yufeng Village. I saw Fang Ting’s parents trying to marry her off to a fifty-something bachelor just before her college entrance exams to get a dowry for her brother. She knelt in the mud, hugging me and begging, “Teacher, I want to study. Please help me…” I softened. Not only did I stop the marriage, but I also promised to sponsor her until she graduated college. She worked hard and got into a top university. The day she got her acceptance letter, she called me crying, “Ms. Cheng, I will study hard and repay you in the future.” I was so gratified back then. This summer, she said she wanted to earn her own living expenses. I thought about it and arranged for her to work-study at my husband’s company. I thought I was helping her. Now it seems I was digging my own grave! Seeing my silence, Fang Ting looked up and bit her lip: “Ms. Cheng, I know you and CEO Smith have a good relationship, but my child is innocent…” Fang Qiang immediately interrupted, “Tingting, you’re just too soft-hearted! Even if that scumbag is willing to divorce this old woman and marry you, you still need to ask for a million dollars in emotional damages!” I laughed and raised an eyebrow: “A million dollars? Fang Ting, do you think you’re worth that price?” The students gasped: “Is that something a human would say? Disgusting!” “Yeah! So vicious! I hope her daughter encounters the same thing in the future!” “Someone like her doesn’t deserve children!” Fang Ting’s face turned pale, and she almost fell. The girl live-streaming quickly supported her and cried to the camera, “Everyone saw it! This woman doesn’t treat Tingting like a human being!” Fang Qiang was furious. He grabbed the water cup on the table and was about to throw it. I looked at him coldly. “Try throwing it! Intentional property damage, provoking trouble. That’s enough for you to stay in detention for a few days.” His hand froze in mid-air. “And you,” I glanced at the girl live-streaming, “livestreaming in the office without permission, invading privacy. Believe it or not, I can call security right now and give you a major demerit?” The girl’s face changed. Seeing this, Fang Ting cried even harder, “Ms. Cheng, how could you be like this? I came to you because I had no other choice. If CEO Smith was willing to take responsibility, I wouldn’t bother you…” “Take responsibility?” I stood up. “For what? For something he never did?” I walked up to her and stared into her eyes. “Fang Ting, search your conscience and tell me, is the child in your belly really Smith’s?” Her eyes flickered for a moment, then she said firmly, “Of course it’s his!” “Is that so?” I smiled. “Then tell me, what color underwear was Smith wearing that night?” Chapter 3 The office fell silent instantly. Even the live stream chat paused for a second. Fang Ting froze, her mouth open, unable to make a sound. “What? Can’t remember?” I pressed. “Or did you never see it?” “I was drunk…” she stammered. “Drunk, but you remember he forced you?” I continued. “Drunk, but you’re sure the child is his?” Fang Qiang exploded, “Cheng Yue! Stop changing the subject! The evidence is right here, and you still want to deny it?” “A few blurry photos convict him?” I sneered. “Then can I just take a few photos of you walking with another woman and say you raped her?” “You!” “Also,” I interrupted him, “how did you get the hotel surveillance footage? Would a hotel just give surveillance footage to strangers?” Fang Qiang was speechless. Fang Ting quickly explained, “My roommate used her connections…” “Oh?” I looked at her roommate. “Does your family own the hotel? Or do you know the owner?” The girl hemmed and hawed, “My cousin works there…” “What a coincidence?” I smiled. “Your cousin just happened to work at the hotel where Smith forced Fang Ting? Just happened to get the surveillance? Just happened to be willing to risk breaking the law to give you screenshots?” The sentiment in the live stream began to shift: “That makes sense…” “Yeah, hotel surveillance isn’t something you can just get.” “Right, if it was forced, why didn’t she call the police immediately?” Just then, Fang Ting suddenly clutched her belly and squatted down. “My stomach hurts so much…” “Tingting!” Her roommate exclaimed. “That’s too much! This old woman is definitely doing this on purpose! She’s jealous that you’re having her husband’s child!” Fang Qiang also pointed at my nose and cursed, “Cheng Yue! If anything happens to my sister and the child, I won’t let you off!” I watched their performance coldly. “Do you need me to call 911 for you?” Fang Ting curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Ms. Cheng, why push me like this? I just want justice…” “Justice?” I sneered, finding it incredibly ironic. “Fang Ting, when you knelt in the mud begging for my sponsorship, you said the same thing. You said you wanted to study, wanted a fair life.” “Now that I’ve given you an education, given you a chance to change your destiny, this is how you repay me?” Her eyes darted away, afraid to look at me. “Cheng! Stop your moral kidnapping!” Fang Qiang roared. “So what if you sponsored her? Does sponsorship mean you can let your husband ruin my sister?” I stood up: “Enough. I’ll say it one last time. First, Smith couldn’t have forced anyone. Second, the child in your belly absolutely cannot be his!” “Third, if you continue to make trouble here, I will call the police immediately. The charge of slander is not light.” The office was dead silent. The live stream chat scrolled frantically: “This teacher is tough! Her logic is clear!” “Yeah, she looks very confident!” “Is there a hidden story? Could it be a badger game?” Just then, Department Head Wang squeezed through the crowd and rushed in. “What’s going on?!” Fang Qiang acted like he found a lifeline. “Director Wang, you’re just in time! This Cheng Yue, her husband raped my sister. She’s four months pregnant now, and they won’t admit it, even accusing my sister of extortion!” Chapter 4 “Director Wang, they’re lying,” I said calmly. “My husband couldn’t have gotten Fang Ting pregnant!” Fang Qiang raged, “Still stubborn even at death’s door! Such a teacher is ruining the school’s reputation! Director Wang, I demand Cheng Yue be fired immediately!” Director Wang looked at me with difficulty. “Ms. Cheng, why don’t you go home and rest for a few days?” I looked at Director Wang. “Even you believe their nonsense?” Director Wang lowered his voice. “It’s become such a mess, the impact is very bad! Ms. Cheng, you have to think about the school!” For the school, I should accept this baseless accusation? “Director Wang, if you punish me under pressure today, I will sue the school for defamation tomorrow. Think clearly!” Director Wang’s face grew even uglier. Just then, Fang Ting suddenly got up from the floor and pulled a paper from her bag. “Ms. Cheng, I knew you wouldn’t believe me easily, so I went for an amniocentesis paternity test last week!” She held the paper up to the camera. “The test results show that the biological father of the child in my belly matches CEO Smith’s DNA by 99.99%.” The office went instantly silent. After a few seconds of pause, the live stream chat exploded. “She asked for the hammer, she got the hammer! How can this old woman deny it now!” “Exactly, it’s in black and white. Can this be fake?” “She won’t cry until she sees the coffin. Still a teacher? Shameless!” Director Wang’s face grew increasingly grim. Fang Qiang gloated, “Ironclad evidence! Cheng, what do you have to say now? Hurry up and pay the emotional damages! Five million, not a penny less!” Fang Ting cried and pulled her brother. “Brother, don’t be like this. Ms. Cheng has been kind to me…” Fang Qiang shook her off. “She was kind to you, so she could let her husband force himself on you? Today, your brother must get justice for you!” The students watching at the door also started shouting: “We demand the school fire Ms. Cheng immediately! Police investigation! Punish this beastly couple severely!” The waves of voices grew higher, and someone even threw leftover milk tea at my head, splashing liquid everywhere. I looked at the test report and suddenly laughed. “This report is fake. Also, a paternity test requires DNA samples from both parties. Where did you get Smith’s DNA?” Fang Ting’s face instantly went white. “I got it from a cup he used…” I asked her, “Smith has a dedicated cup at the company, washed and sterilized immediately after every use. You said you got DNA, which day? Which cup?” Fang Ting was speechless. Fang Qiang immediately interjected, “Who cares how she got it! Anyway, the test report is real! If you don’t believe it, we can go for another test right now!” “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go now. I’ll have Smith come over for on-site sampling!” Fang Ting panicked. “Isn’t CEO Smith missing?” I smiled. “Who said he’s missing?” “I called and texted him these past few days, he didn’t reply…” Fang Ting’s voice grew smaller. “I went to the company to find him, the secretary said he was on a business trip…” “He was indeed on a business trip,” I checked my watch. “But he should be back now.” Fang Qiang’s eyes lit up. “Great! Let him confront my sister face to face! I want to see what this rapist has to say!” The live stream chat buzzed again: “Waiting for the scumbag to show up!” “Does he dare to come to this kind of occasion? Probably ran away!” “Is this Cheng Yue stalling for time?” Director Wang quickly smoothed things over. “Ms. Cheng, if your husband can come, that would be best! Clearing things up face to face is good for everyone!” I took out my phone and dialed a number. “Yue?” Smith’s voice came from the receiver. “I just finished a full body maintenance and was about to contact you. What’s up?” “Come to my school office,” I said. “Bring your full set of ID documents and product manual.” “Manual?” Smith paused. “What happened?” I glanced at Fang Ting, meaningful: “Someone is pregnant with your child. Don’t you want to come take a look?”

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I fell in love with the male lead on the very first day I woke up inside this book. It’s a classic high school romance novel. The male and female leads are destined for a sugary-sweet love story, and I? I’m just a background extra. I didn’t try to change the plot. I just studied. Like my life depended on it. I studied until my eyes bled just to get into the same AP classes as him. I studied until I clawed my way up the rankings to sit next to him. I studied until we both got into the same Ivy League university… In the end, the female lead showed up at my dorm, absolutely wasted, screaming at me for stealing her man. I scratched my head, genuinely confused. “What did I even do?” She was silent for a long time before she started sobbing and shrieking. “You studied like a psychopath!!” Me: “…” 1. On my first day in this world, I fell for Ethan Hayes. It wasn’t love at first sight; it was a long-term obsession. back when I was reading the book in the real world, I’d curl up under my blankets and scream about how perfect he was. The cold, aloof academic god. He hit every single one of my checkboxes. Seeing him in person? I didn’t stand a chance. But the situation was different now. I wasn’t a reader anymore. I was a stranger in his world. I could only watch from a distance as he and the female lead, Chloe, acted out their perfect romance. The sense of loss sat heavy in my chest, suffocating me. Back then, they weren’t together yet. Plenty of brave girls confessed to Ethan. Without exception, he rejected them all with an icy politeness. I realized my crush had to be buried deep. I was just a nobody. Broken family, average looks, zero confidence. I didn’t even get the standard “Transmigrator System” or cheat codes. I had nothing. So, I turned my frustration into motivation. I studied. Hard. Partly because it’s what you’re supposed to do in high school. Mostly because of my own selfish desire. I wanted to be closer to Ethan. I didn’t ask for much. Just being able to see him was enough. I became the girl who arrived at school first and left last, the one reading flashcards in the cafeteria line. During the sophomore year placement exams, I jumped two hundred spots in the ranking and finally made it into the Honors Class—the same class as Ethan and Chloe. The first day I walked in, Chloe ran over immediately. “Maya? Who are you looking for?” In the original book, I was a slacker. I was Chloe’s “plastic” friend—gossiping with her by day, jealous of her shine by night. I was too busy being a hater to study. That’s why she assumed I was lost. “I tested into this class,” I explained. “Huh?” She froze, then ran to the podium to check the roster. She came back, looking me up and down. “Wow. That’s a huge improvement.” I smiled shyly and took my seat. Ethan sat on the other side of the room. I pretended to look out the window, stealing a glance at him from the corner of my eye. Chloe seemed to be telling him about me. He didn’t look interested, but he did glance my way. I held my breath, forcibly shifting my gaze to my notebook. Close one. Almost made eye contact. 2. The atmosphere in the Honors Class was different. Here, I wasn’t a freak. Everyone studied during breaks; everyone formed groups to discuss calculus problems. I stabilized my grades, ranking near the top. I followed Ethan and Chloe to the same prestigious high school. Based on entrance exam scores, I barely scraped into the same homeroom as Ethan. He was number one. I was third from the bottom. Chloe, however, fell into a regular class. The author separated them to create drama. Chloe would meet the Second Male Lead, Jax, in her new class, sparking jealousy and angst. None of that concerned me. I just studied. For two years, Ethan and I had zero interaction, aside from being classmates. We were the kind of people who passed each other in the hall without even nodding. He genuinely didn’t care. I was faking it. My heart would hammer against my ribs every time I saw him, but I kept my face paralyzed. Good job, Maya, I told myself. Since I was buried in books, my fake friendship with Chloe faded. By the time middle school ended, she’d basically forgotten me. But in high school, she suddenly became friendly again. She said I was studying myself into an early grave and needed to relax. Once, she invited me to hang out with her and Ethan. Did I want to go? No. I’d rather do practice sets. But she insisted. I figured I could just watch them and review my wrong answers in my head. When we got to the location, my brain short-circuited. It was the theme park. According to the plot, this was where they would have their first kiss. It was the start of their official relationship. My mind was a mess. I don’t remember what I ate or did. When night fell, the park lit up with dreamlike lights. Chloe dragged Ethan to watch the fireworks. I trailed twenty paces behind, getting jostled by the crowd. Under the exploding fireworks, they confessed. Chloe stood on her tiptoes and shyly kissed Ethan. It was too beautiful. I couldn’t watch. I looked down in panic, tears falling onto my vocabulary cards. I fled. I texted Chloe a lie about my curfew and ran. She didn’t reply. They had already forgotten me. While they held hands, young and resolute, I, the third wheel, ran home wiping my eyes. In my empty house, I broke down and sobbed. I’m sorry. I really couldn’t pretend anymore. But even while gasping for air, I pulled out a workbook and forced myself to solve equations. Unrequited love is torture, especially when you have nothing else. My only advantage was that I had lived a life before. I knew education was power. And I knew not to destroy myself over a love that had no future. 3. Ethan and Chloe were officially a couple. They were starting their decade-long romance saga. Sure, they would fight, break up, and make up. But the book said: Ethan never stopped loving Chloe, and Chloe’s heart always belonged to Ethan. A beautiful sentence for them. A sentence of execution for me. I wasn’t the only one suffering. Jax, the bad boy Second Lead, was losing his mind. After the leads got together, Jax would cause all sorts of trouble because he couldn’t have Chloe. Originally, I was supposed to be his henchman in causing drama. But honestly, I was more worried about my midterm grades. When the teacher beamed and told me I ranked second in the grade, I finally felt a little better. From bottom of the class to second place. My effort wasn’t wasted. Seating was assigned by rank. Ethan was immovable at number one. I was assigned the seat right next to him. Desk mates! In any other romance novel, this is where the magic happens. In reality? Nothing happened. We sat inches apart, but we didn’t speak for days. He was naturally cold. I was terrified of exposing my feelings. The only sentence he spoke to me was: “Mara, your water bottle is leaking.” I wiped up the water and couldn’t help correcting him. “My name is Maya…” Ha. He didn’t even know my name. We coexisted in silence until Chloe stormed in and started an argument with Ethan right in front of me. She asked why he didn’t tell her he was sitting next to me. Ethan frowned, genuinely confused. “Is that important?” Since the start of the semester, he’d had several desk mates. But Chloe seemed specifically threatened by me. She looked at me, then at him, and ran off crying without saying another word. Maybe it was because I was someone she knew. Imagine your boyfriend sitting next to your ex-friend and not mentioning it. It probably felt like a betrayal. After lunch, I went to find Chloe to apologize. “Chloe…” I called her name, but she acted like I was invisible, laughing with her new friends. “Omg, I watched that movie you mentioned, I almost died laughing…” I stood there awkwardly for two seconds and decided not to push my luck. I barely knew Chloe anymore. Bringing up the seating chart would just make it weird. As for Ethan, he and I were truly strangers. He would explain it to her. Thinking about drama was exhausting. I stopped caring. Two days later, someone blocked my path on the way home. “You’re Maya, right?” It was Jax. I had my headphones in, listening to an English lecture, so I didn’t hear him at first. I walked right past him. He jumped in front of me, furious, and yanked my headphones off. “…” I frowned. “Can I help you?” My face probably looked like stone. Jax faltered for a second before finding his “tough guy” expression. “Listen to me!” He snarled, “I don’t like Ethan, but I will not allow you to hurt Chloe or ruin their relationship.” What a weird thing to say. I processed it for a moment. “How am I ruining their relationship?” “Stop acting. You’re shameless,” Jax crossed his arms. “You’re the one seducing Ethan, aren’t you? Hmph. You’ve got guts, but you can’t compare to a single hair on Chloe’s head.” Me? Seducing Ethan? How did I miss such a major life event? “Do you have evidence?” I asked. “Of course!” He said self-righteously. “The evidence is that you’re sitting next to him!” “…Do you not know seats are assigned by GPA?” I thought for a second. “Oh, you mean I should fail my exams on purpose so I don’t have to sit next to him?” “Exactly.” Jax smiled, satisfied that I understood. Usually, I ignore people like him. But he was rude, speaking nonsense, and insulting my academic integrity. That’s my red line. “Unfortunately,” I sneered, “I’m not like you. I didn’t buy my way into this school. I don’t treat my education like a joke.” Jax was a rich kid, forced in by his parents. He believed money could solve everything. He had the capital to play games with life. I didn’t. Sitting next to Ethan was nice. But even if he wasn’t there, I deserved that seat. I deserved to sit in his seat. Jax was enraged and threatened to make me pay. In the book, that was his character. Impulsive, but not evil. He was lashing out because he couldn’t have the girl he loved. I didn’t take him seriously. Until the next monthly exam. I was caught cheating. 4. Midway through the math exam, I was dragged out. The proctor said they received an anonymous tip that I had brought notes in. Like a magician, he pulled a slip of translucent paper from my hoodie pocket. It was covered in microscopic text—formulas and key concepts for the test. “Maya! I thought you were an honest, hardworking student! How could you do this?” “This isn’t just irresponsible to yourself; it brings shame to your family and this class!” “You came in with average grades and shot up to the top. Did you use these tricks back then, too?” I stood in the faculty office. Teachers took turns lecturing me, heartbroken and angry. They questioned my character. They questioned my past achievements. I denied it, which only made them angrier. Denial meant no remorse. Punishment doubled. I replayed the morning. Before the exam, I left my hoodie on my chair to go to the bathroom. That’s when someone must have slipped the note in and reported me. It had to be Jax, or someone he hired. It was a low tactic, but effective. Who cheats on a high school monthly exam with a physical note in 2024? I had no proof. I told them it was likely related to the person who reported me. They said they had to protect the whistleblower’s identity. So, I took the fall. A school-wide citation. [Honors Class Student Maya (ID xxxx) caught cheating during monthly exams.] The bold text scrolled across the LED board in the main lobby. Every student who walked in saw it. Naturally, I was ostracized. No one wanted to be in my group for projects. No one partnered with me in PE. During cleaning duty, I was assigned to sweep the outdoor grounds alone. “Cheat Sheet Maya, stay away from us.” They made exaggerated faces of disgust. Luckily. I wasn’t really sixteen. This framed me, but it couldn’t break me. I endured it. When the results came out, my score was voided. I was moved to the corner of the classroom, the “shame seat.” A different girl took the seat next to Ethan. She was smart and openly liked him. She brought him water after basketball. She pretended to fall asleep on his shoulder during study hall. Chloe didn’t care. She would just link arms with Ethan later, making the new girl cry. Jax didn’t bully the new girl. He just leaned against the back door, watching me with glee. He mouthed a single word at me: Deserved. … Reading the book, I never realized Jax was this childish. I was being isolated, and he was getting off on it. Did it actually affect me? No. I studied. I ate. In PE, when no one would partner with me, I snuck back to the classroom to finish a practice test. I finished the last calculus problem and realized someone was standing next to me. It was Ethan. I didn’t know how long he’d been there. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at my paper. He was holding a basketball under one arm. He must have come back to grab it. He stood so close. For me, it was close enough. I could smell the faint, clean scent of soap on him. For some reason, neither of us spoke. The classroom was silent. I could hear my own heartbeat. A wave of indescribable sadness washed over me. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to move. I wanted time to freeze. But I was scared. I was scared that if this silence lasted another second, the atmosphere would become ambiguous. I broke the silence. “What’s wrong?” “Um…” He paused. “You missed a step in the derivation.” Which step? Can you teach me? That’s what I should have said. There was an empty chair right next to me. If I asked, maybe he would sit down. Maybe he would explain the complex equation to me. Instead, I calmly picked up my phone and opened an app to scan the question. “Oh. I’ll just check Chegg.” “Okay.” Ethan turned and left. I posted the question on the app, crying internally. My stupid mouth. I’m hopeless.

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The night before our engagement party, my A-list celebrity boyfriend, Liam Scott, lost a race on a reality TV show. The penalty? He had to play a “couple for a day” with his childhood best friend, Rina. But he took the act a little too far. Right there, on camera, he exchanged rings with her. Liam just laughed it off when he explained it to me later. “It was all for the show, Luna. We grew up together, practically shared a crib. You think I’d ever be serious about her?” But Rina, nestled against his side, flashed the new ring on her finger. “Liam’s first ‘proposal’ was to me, guys. Don’t you think that’s worth a celebration?” The crowd was full of their childhood friends, and they all started cheering. “C’mon, none of us have ever beaten Liam on the track,” one of them yelled. “He obviously threw the race for Rina. Hey, if Rina can beat me, I’ll give her anything she wants!” The energy was electric. I stepped out from the shadows, my helmet tucked under my arm. Every head turned in my direction, and the boisterous atmosphere immediately went cold. I pulled the helmet over my head, my eyes locking on Liam’s disapproving face. “What are you all staring at me for? You wanted a celebration, right? As the fiancée, I thought I’d add to the fun.” 1 I swung my leg over the gleaming new motorcycle. Liam’s brow furrowed. He strode over, his hand clamping down on mine just as I was about to ignite the engine. “Luna, don’t be ridiculous. It’s Rina’s birthday, everyone’s just teasing her. Racing isn’t a game. What if you get hurt?” He softened his voice. “Just be a good girl and cheer for me from the sidelines.” It was always the same story. No matter what they were doing, my role was always the cheerleader. I subtly pulled my hand free from his grasp. Staring into those soulful eyes that could make a puppy fall in love, I contradicted him for the very first time. “I don’t think I’ll be cheering for you today.” I jutted my chin toward Rina. “Your ‘girlfriend’ for the day is over there. Let her do it.” A few snickers rippled through the group. Someone joked that I was jealous, telling Liam he’d better smooth things over. A flash of embarrassment crossed Liam’s face. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve never even touched a bike before. I’m scared you’ll get hurt.” He lowered his voice, leaning in. “We all grew up with Rina. Ask anyone here if they actually see her as a girl.” The glances exchanged around us were suddenly thick with insinuation. This wasn’t the first time. They had all grown up in the same exclusive neighborhood, their families moving in the same elite circles. Whenever the seven of them got together, they created an impenetrable bubble with Rina at its center. Because they didn’t see her as a woman, they’d pass out drunk in the same bed. Because they didn’t see her as a woman, she could call him away from our date nights to help her buy tampons. Because they didn’t see her as a woman, he’d ditch me on our anniversary to go drinking with her when she was in a bad mood. I used to fight him on it, but it always ended the same way. Once, he even snapped at me, “We’ve always been this close. Are you going to accuse the other five guys of sleeping with her too?” After that, I never brought up Rina’s name in an argument again. Until now. Only this time, I wasn’t here to argue. Rina sauntered over, draping an arm casually around Liam’s shoulders. She grinned at me. “He’s right, Luna. This is just how we are. They really don’t see me as a girl. We used to have peeing contests as kids to see who could go the farthest.” She patted Liam’s chest. “You didn’t grow up with a crew like this, so you wouldn’t get it. Just listen to your boyfriend like a good girl. We’ll let you have him back when we’re done playing.” No one seemed to think there was anything wrong with what she said. Liam’s expression was hardening, his disapproval of my ‘childish tantrum’ written all over his face. I fought down the wave of nausea rising in my throat and twisted the throttle. Over the engine’s roar, I met Rina’s gaze and said coldly, “Since it’s a birthday party, wouldn’t adding one more make it even more exciting?” “Let’s stick to your rules,” I continued. “If you beat me, you can have any gift you want.” Seeing me defy him so openly, Liam’s face tightened. The mask was slipping. Another guy from their group nudged his friend, smirking. “Damn, Liam’s losing his touch. Guess he can’t keep his fiancée on a leash.” The warmth vanished completely from Liam’s expression. His eyes on me turned to ice. “Luna Jiang.” He used my full name. “You really want to do this? Fine. But don’t come crying to me to end the game when you lose.” I scoffed. Rina saw my expression and raised an eyebrow. “Well, well. Looks like I have a lot of challengers tonight.” She adopted a regal air. “Alright, here’s how it’ll be. We’ll do it king-of-the-hill style. You have to beat everyone who wants a shot at me. Only then do you earn the right to challenge me.” She pointed a finger at the big guy who had started the heckling. “Mark, I know what you’re capable of. If you go easy on her… I’ll double the prize!” Mark stepped forward, playing the peacemaker. “Hey, Mrs. Scott, look… it’s Rina’s birthday, so she makes the rules. Maybe we should just call it a night? This bike is a beast, hard to handle.” “I’ll cover the double prize myself!” he declared. The crowd erupted. “The prize should come from Liam! What’s your deal, Mark? You got a thing for your friend’s girl?” Mark’s face turned bright red. Liam shot me a sideways glance, then smirked and gave Rina a light pat. “The night’s not over yet. Your future sister-in-law is right here.” Rina just hopped onto the seat behind Liam, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. A chorus of whistles went up. I was used to it. I revved the engine and snapped my visor down. “Enough talk. Let’s ride.” 2 The wind howled past my helmet. Behind me, I could hear a collective gasp of shock. No one had expected me to actually know how to ride, let alone be good at it. I leaned hard into a series of tight curves, steadily pulling away from Mark. Liam shot me a look, his expression filled with something I couldn’t quite read. Surprise? The cheers and shouts didn’t break my focus. On the final turn, I calculated my entry line, planning to accelerate hard on the exit. Just then, a blinding beam of light shot out from the side of the track, aimed directly at me. It was Rina, holding a high-powered flashlight she must have grabbed from somewhere, waving it wildly in my direction. My vision exploded in a wash of white. I cursed under my breath, instinctively slamming the brakes and fighting to keep the bike balanced. But I was going too fast. The front wheel skidded out at the apex of the turn. The bike went into an uncontrolled slide, the shriek of metal on asphalt tearing through the night. I wrestled with the handlebars, using every ounce of my strength to stay upright, but my knee and elbow scraped hard against the pavement, a searing pain shooting through me. Mark’s bike blurred past as he crossed the finish line. I managed to push myself and the bike up, barely standing. The throbbing in my elbow and knee was beginning to spread. I took off my helmet, my gaze fixed coldly on Rina. She tossed the flashlight aside and came jogging over, all feigned concern. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, are you okay? I was just so excited! You were riding so well, I wanted to cheer you on, I had no idea… that you’d lose control.” Liam rushed to my side, his brow deeply creased. “Serves you right for trying to show off when you don’t have the skills,” he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. Mark circled back, clearing his throat. “Luna… let’s just say you won that round. Seriously, your technique is way better than mine.” I tried to smile, but the pull on the scrapes on my face made me wince. The peanut gallery started up again. “What’s with you today, Mark? Playing the white knight?” “Yeah, man, bad form. Liam’s about to get married. You can’t be moving in on his girl now.” Mark fell silent, trapped. I waved a dismissive hand. “A loss is a loss. No need for charity.” I turned my attention to Rina, my voice flat. “What do you want?” Her eyes landed on the necklace I was wearing. Liam had fastened it around my neck the day we made our relationship official. It was a unique pendant, a delicate gear with a diamond at its center that spun a full 360 degrees. He’d said it was a symbol of how inseparable we were, our love stronger than steel. I hadn’t taken it off in three years. I reached back, unclasped it, and tossed it straight at her. She caught it deftly, letting it dangle from her fingers. Liam’s face darkened instantly. “Rina, that’s…” She tilted her head, looking at his strained expression. “What’s wrong, Liam? Luna’s willing to part with it. Are you telling me you’re not?” Liam’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He finally looked away. “…If you like it, you can have it.” Rina smiled, a triumphant glint in her eyes. She turned her back to Liam. “Put it on for me.” As Liam fumbled with the clasp around Rina’s neck, the other guys crowded around me, eager for more action. “Wow, Mrs. Scott, you’re full of surprises! I’m next!” “Me too!” But Rina cut them off, her eyes sparkling with a new, malicious idea as she looked at me. “Hold on. Luna’s so good, if we’re going to keep playing, we need to set the stakes first. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking we’re ganging up on you.” Her gaze roamed over me, and then her face lit up. “I remember, your marriage certificate was calligraphed by your grandfather, right? You know how rare his work was. Why don’t we bet that?” The moment she said it, the chatter died. Everyone stared at her, their expressions a mixture of shock and unease. She flashed me a perfectly innocent smile. “Let’s make that the prize, what do you say? If you lose, you just let me… admire it for a bit. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal your…” She paused, casting a long, meaningful look at Liam. Liam’s breath hitched. He spoke in a low, placating tone. “Rina, that’s enough.” I had to laugh. Even he knew she was taking it too far. But he always let her. That marriage certificate was my grandfather’s final work, the only thing he left me. On it, he’d written his blessing for Liam and me, wishing us a hundred years of happiness, a life without sorrow. Rina, however, was not intimidated by Liam’s tone. She stuck her chin out. “What are you so nervous about? I can’t even look at it? If you’re going to be this stingy, I might just tell everyone about the time you—” Liam clapped a hand over her mouth, the tips of his ears turning bright red. He turned back to me, his voice coaxing. “Luna, why don’t you just show it to her? Then we can call it a night. No more racing.” Of course. Between them, Rina always won. I watched their intimate little struggle, the throbbing in my knee and elbow a dull, distant ache. My heart felt hollow, empty. I nodded slowly. “Alright.” Liam let out a breath of relief. And then I spoke my next words. “If I lose, the certificate is yours.”

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The lab fire was sudden and violent. My boyfriend instinctively raised his hand to shield me, losing a layer of skin in the process. On the day we broke up, I deliberately aimed for his deepest wound. “Every time I look at those hands, I feel physically sick.” Years later, he became my father’s attending physician. Before discussing the prognosis, he asked with a calm expression: “Miss Miller, will my hands cause you any physiological discomfort?” 1 Yesterday, a friend called to say there might be hope for my dad’s condition. A doctor named Dr. Vance had just returned from studying abroad at their hospital, specializing in exactly this rare disease. But I never expected this “Dr. Vance” to be Julian Vance. “Dr. Vance is so handsome. If only his hands weren’t burned like that, he’d be perfect!” “I heard from Dr. Reed that his ex-girlfriend caused it. She even broke up with him because of it.” “What? That’s disgusting.” Passing the nurses’ station, I overheard their chatter while they prepped medications. My steps faltered, then I forced myself to continue down the hall. With every step closer to that door, my heart pounded faster and faster. My hand was trembling as it touched the doorknob. But the moment I saw that familiar figure, everything went quiet. The man in the white coat stopped writing and looked up at the sound. Our eyes met, and my heart seemed to stop. My whole body went rigid. To be honest, I was prepared for Julian’s mockery. Because— I was that disgusting ex-girlfriend. 2 But as long as he could give my dad a fighting chance, I would take anything. In a flash, he looked away. “You must be Mr. Miller’s family. Please, have a seat.” His voice was cold and distant. I remembered he had this unapproachable aura when I first pursued him, too. He gestured to the chair opposite him with his chin, then… Went back to writing. Was he— Pretending not to recognize me? The thought flashed through my mind but was instantly dismissed. How could he pretend in front of someone he loathed? He was proud. When he got tired of my chasing back then, he would just turn and leave without a word. But thinking about it, maybe he really didn’t recognize me. I was wearing a mask, and I had bangs now. So many years had passed. My heart, suspended in my throat, slowly settled. After sitting down, my eyes involuntarily drifted to his terrifying hands. The raised scars from the burn were stark against his pale skin. My heart clenched. The pain buried deep inside resurfaced. Back then, a girl in my lab group caused a flash fire due to improper handling. Flames erupted instantly. Julian was right next to me. His reaction was lightning fast. He shielded my face with his hands. In that instant, his skin burned away, revealing horrifying red flesh. It was terrifying. I cried and asked him why he did it. He lowered his head, wiped my tears, and looked straight into my eyes. “Because it’s you, I’d do anything.” Those scars made me certain about Julian. So much so that on the day I broke up with him, I used those very scars to end it. The vicious words still echoed in my ears. “You know, every time I see your hands, I feel sick to my stomach.” “I can’t stand it for another day.” He must hate me to death. The scars he bore for me were met with such cruelty. … “Miss Miller?” I didn’t know when Julian had looked up, but his gaze was fixed on my face. “Yes.” He raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, noticing where I was staring. “My hands won’t cause you any physiological discomfort, will they?” 3 I shook my head awkwardly. “No.” How could they? He got them for me. I only felt heartache; how could I feel disgust? He curled his lip slightly and explained patiently. “That’s good.” “Everyone has different sensitivities. I have to ask beforehand.” “Have the blood count and bone marrow biopsy been done?” “Yes.” “When was the last transfusion?” “Two months ago.” “What is your relationship with Carter?” Carter was the friend who referred me to Julian. But what did that have to do with my dad’s illness? The answer stopped at my lips, suspicion creeping in. “Do… do you need to know that too?” He glanced at me calmly. “Of course. It’s protocol.” He was the doctor; I was the patient’s family. Naturally, I answered whatever he asked. “College classmates.” Those dark eyes suddenly stared straight at me, scrutinizing, as if trying to discern something. Before I could speak, he pulled out the prepared files, switched to a professional demeanor, and began outlining the treatment plan. A while later, the door opened. “Julian, what do you want for lunch?” 4 Behind the sweet, light voice was a face that was adaptable and soft-featured. I recognized her almost instantly. It was Sarah Reed! She was the girl who made the mistake in the lab. Luckily for her, her injuries back then weren’t severe. It really is a small world. She stared at me, too. Slowly, the smile on her lips began to fade. A deep, magnetic voice cut off the name Sarah was about to say. “Whatever you want.” “Or that Thai place downstairs.” “You go get a table. I’ll be done in a minute.” They spoke across me. From this angle, I could clearly see Julian’s sharp jawline, and… The gentle look in his eyes, devoid of any guard. That look used to belong to me. In high school, Sarah was in our class but wasn’t close to Julian or me. Many times during breaks, I would go to Julian. Sarah sat behind us. I always saw her sitting quietly at her desk, alone. Maybe it was awkwardness, unable to join our conversation. Sometimes when our eyes met accidentally, she would immediately look away. Now the roles were reversed. I had become the outsider. Sarah looked at me one last time before closing the door, her expression back to normal, nodding politely. Once again, it was just me and Julian in the office. He naturally exuded an oppressive aura, suffocating the space around us. I lowered my eyes, resting my elbows on the edge of the desk, heart still racing. Suddenly, the light in front of me was blocked by a shadow. His broad frame leaned forward, looming over me. Almost instinctively, I leaned back, creating distance. His hand froze in mid-air, his face turning completely cold. “What are you hiding from?”

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Chapter 1 During a reality show shoot, my sister and I both fell into the water. My husband, Julian, didn’t even hesitate. He dove in and saved my sister. He held her, looking distressed and frantic, and walked away without once looking back. He left me sinking toward the bottom of the lake. I was barely conscious when the crew finally pulled me out. The next day, when I handed Julian the divorce papers, his face darkened. “Lily can’t swim, so I saved her first. Are you seriously jealous over that?” I looked him calmly in the eye. “Yeah. Just sign it.” Julian and I finalized the divorce quietly. Julian kept frowning, his brow furrowed in that way I used to find so attractive. But now? It didn’t stir a single emotion in me. He shoved the decree into his pocket. “I’ll drive you.” I shook my head. “No need.” Julian seemed annoyed by my attitude. “Jessie, you don’t have to be like this. We were married for three years. Divorce doesn’t mean we have to be enemies.” I was genuinely shocked for a second. I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of his mouth. Now that Lily was back, he should be thrilled I was stepping aside so easily. “Julian, to me, divorced means divorced. We aren’t family, and we certainly can’t be friends.” “You…” “Besides, we don’t have kids. There’s really no reason to stay in touch.” Julian, clearly irritated by my indifference, turned and stormed off. I watched his retreating back and let out a sigh. But then I thought about my bank account balance, and the heaviness vanished. Although I was technically the second daughter of the Sterling family, I hadn’t seen a dime of their money. This divorce, however, had made me a very wealthy woman. I knew I wouldn’t get half of the Thorne empire, so when I had my lawyer draft the agreement, I asked for twenty million dollars. Julian agreed. He also threw in a penthouse in New York, a villa in Los Angeles, and several commercial properties in prime locations. It was enough to ensure I’d never have to worry about money again. Looking at the numbers on my screen, I laughed out loud. Finally. I could start living for myself. Within twenty-four hours, I moved into a sleek apartment in Manhattan. Seeing my name on the deed gave me a sense of security I’d never felt before. I thought leaving Julian would shatter me. For three years, I had truly loved him. But surprisingly, that night, I slept better than I had in years. A wave of relief washed over me, and I didn’t wake up until noon the next day. Chapter 2 Julian and I were a business arrangement. A merger between the Thorne and Sterling families. Grandfather Thorne and my grandfather had served in the military together. That bond sealed the marriage pact years ago. But the engagement was originally meant for Lily. She was the Sterlings’ golden child, raised like a princess for eighteen years. I was the biological daughter who had been switched at birth. Julian Thorne was New York royalty. A guy like him and a girl like me were never supposed to meet, let alone fall in love. Until I was eighteen. The Sterlings found me, crying about how a nurse’s mistake had separated us. They said I was their flesh and blood. Back then, I was living in a foster home. When I saw my biological parents in their luxury sedan, I thought my life was about to get easier. I thought I wouldn’t have to collect cans to pay for school fees anymore. But I didn’t get love or compensation. I got indifference. They told me the “fake” daughter’s parents had passed away, so they couldn’t just send her away. But the way they treated us? Night and day. I didn’t feel like the second daughter. I felt like the help. I didn’t mind. I just wanted to finish college. Then came the marriage pact. I found out that Julian, the handsome boy Lily had been following around like a puppy, had been in a severe car accident. Doctors said his leg would never fully heal. He would walk with a limp forever. Lily screamed and cried, refusing to marry a “cripple.” So, the duty fell to me. I could have said no. But I remembered seeing Julian once, years ago, before I knew who he was. He was brilliant, kind, and handsome. I was twenty, a sophomore at Columbia. My parents made me take a leave of absence to get married. When I first met Julian after the accident, he was furious. He smashed a vase near my feet, screaming for Lily. But Lily? She had already taken her parents’ black card and fled to Paris for “art school.” The Sterling family business relied on the Thornes. Lily wouldn’t marry him, but they needed a body to secure the alliance. That body was me. That was the first time my mother, Mrs. Sterling, showed me any kindness. She wept about how hard it was for the family, how pitiful Lily was, how my father’s hair was turning gray from stress. I didn’t care about their tears. I wanted to marry him. Not for them, but for him. When I was a freshman, Julian was a senior. He was the campus legend—brilliant, wealthy, unattainable. And back then, Lily was always by his side. Everyone admired his looks, but I admired his mind. He published papers on advanced mathematics that blew me away. I read every single one. They helped me solve problems I was stuck on. I fell in love with his brain first. On our wedding day, Julian didn’t smile once. I was so nervous my hands were sweating. When he took my hand, I almost tripped. The guests chuckled. I felt like an embarrassment. I heard people whispering about Lily, and Julian’s face went black. He loved Lily. I knew that. That’s why he resented me. For a moment, I regretted everything. The marriage. The secret crush. That night, Julian was rough, venting his anger. But his leg was hurting him. I saw him wince. So I pushed him back gently, straddled him, and took control. Soon, the anger faded into something else. His face flushed, and we both got lost in the rhythm. Chapter 3 Life at the Thorne estate was quiet. I actually liked it better than the Sterling house. I loved to read and study. Even though I had dropped out, I never stopped learning. Julian changed, too. He went from staying out late to coming home on time every day. Even when work was crazy, he’d text me to let me know where he was. I started learning massage therapy from an old specialist. I thought maybe I could help his leg. When I first suggested it, I was shy. But six months later, I knew every pressure point on his body. Julian went from resisting it to waiting for it every night. My hands grew stronger, more confident. Life was peaceful, if a bit boring. One day, while dropping off documents for Julian at Thorne Enterprises, a producer spotted me. He asked if I wanted to audition for a small role in a web series. The character was a quiet genius. I said yes on a whim. Julian didn’t object. Unexpectedly, the show blew up. I gained a small, loyal fanbase. It was fun. I never thought I’d be part of the entertainment industry. The Thorne family owned a massive media conglomerate, Rainmaker Entertainment. Julian told me I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I didn’t use the Thorne name to get ahead. So, I got an agent, Sarah, and started booking small roles. I became a C-list actress, and honestly? I loved it. Sometimes, I’d lie in bed and read fan comments to Julian while massaging his leg. One night, my hand slipped higher than intended. Julian groaned. I tried to pull away, but he pinned me to the bed. The kiss was natural. The intimacy that followed was explosive. From that moment on, everything changed. He bought me my favorite pastries. He bought me jewelry. We went to movies and walked by the lake. We were like a normal, happy couple. And thanks to my massages, his leg improved miraculously. Unless he walked very fast, you couldn’t even tell he had been injured. Three years into our marriage, Lily came back. That day, for the first time in a long time, Julian didn’t cling to me in the morning. My parents called—the first time in three years—demanding we come for dinner. Lily hadn’t returned once in three years. My parents always made excuses for her. Julian’s face was cold. I didn’t know what he was thinking. When we arrived at the Sterling estate, a vision in white threw herself into Julian’s arms. I stood there, watching. He didn’t push her away. She was crying, ruining his custom suit with tears, calling him “Julian, Julian.” My heart felt like it was being stabbed with a thousand needles. Seeing me, Lily straightened up. “I’m so sorry, Jessie. I was just so happy. Julian… oh wait, should I call you brother-in-law now?” Julian’s jaw tightened. He took my hand and led me to the table. Lily stared at our joined hands in shock. Dinner was torture. My parents ignored me completely, spending the entire meal trying to get Julian to talk to Lily. It felt like they were trying to sell her to him. From that day on, Lily was everywhere. Julian went from annoyed to accepting in less than a month. Lily wanted to act. Julian assigned Rainmaker’s top agent to her. She strutted around Thorne Tower like she owned the place. Everyone assumed she was Mrs. Thorne because I had kept my identity a secret. Lily would call Julian on speakerphone, whining and flirting, then bring lunch to his office. I had visited his office once. He scolded me for interrupting. I never went back. People just thought I was some starlet trying to sleep her way to the top. With Julian’s backing, Lily became an overnight sensation. My agent, Sarah, asked if I knew her. I said no. Sarah vented about what a diva Lily was, stealing endorsements left and right. When I lost three contracts in a row to her, I realized she was targeting me. And Julian? He gave me nothing. If we passed in the hallway, he looked right through me. I hadn’t thought about divorce yet. I still loved him. Chapter 4 Until the accident. The moment I realized we were over. It happened on a reality survival show. Both Lily and I were cast. Lily played the delicate flower. I was the capable quiet one. Julian came to visit the set. We were filming near a lake. The old wooden dock Lily and I were standing on suddenly collapsed. We both plunged into the water. Chaos erupted. Crew members shouted. But before anyone could react, Julian—billionaire CEO Julian Thorne—dove into the water. I can’t swim. When I saw him diving, I thought he was coming for me. I was his wife. But when I saw him grab Lily and swim toward the shore, something in me broke. I realized then: He doesn’t love me. It was like he didn’t even see me. He carried Lily to his car, frantic, treating her like fine china. As I sank into the darkness, the last thing I saw was his car driving away. By the time the crew fished me out, I was unconscious. Because Julian had caused such a scene saving Lily, everyone assumed I was safe. It took the assistant director screaming to make them realize I was still under. I woke up in the hospital. Only Sarah was there. She was crying. “Sarah, I’m not dead,” I croaked. “Oh my god, Jessie! You scared me to death! You have the worst luck. Julian made such a scene saving that green tea b*tch that everyone forgot about you!” “It’s okay.” My heart was calm. Dead calm. I thought we were one. Reality slapped me awake. That afternoon, I was discharged. I saw them in the lobby. Julian was supporting Lily. My parents were trailing behind them, fussing over her, putting a coat over her shoulders. They looked like a happy family. They had completely forgotten I existed. I watched them walk away. Then I pulled out my phone and called the lawyer Sarah had recommended. “Draw up the papers,” I said.

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Five years into our marriage, my husband died from a sudden asthma attack, leaving me and our son utterly alone in the world. My friends pitied me, a young widow. My parents urged me to take our son and remarry quickly. But I refused. I was determined to stay and honor my husband’s memory. Then, on the third anniversary of his death, I overheard my father-in-law in a furious argument with my brother-in-law. “David was the one with asthma, David was the one who died! But you… you faked your own death, all to take care of his widow. You threw away your own family for her. Was it worth it?” “For three years, Lena has mourned you, raising Leo all by herself. You gave your niece a home, but have you ever stopped to think? The day you decided to ‘die,’ Leo lost his father, too.” In that moment, a chill washed over me, so cold it felt like my blood was turning to ice. I finally understood. The man who died three years ago wasn’t my husband, Daniel. It was his identical twin brother, David. My three years of devoted mourning were nothing but a cruel joke. That night, I called my parents. “Mom, Dad,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ll remarry.” 1 After my husband’s supposed death, his parents were consumed with guilt. They couldn’t even look me in the eye, catering to my every need, terrified that I would take their grandson and remarry, severing their last link to their son. My own parents, meanwhile, were constantly trying to set me up on dates. “You can’t be a widow for the rest of your life,” they’d say. But I was stubborn, immovable. I insisted on honoring Daniel’s memory. I even reassured my in-laws that I would never let our son call another man “Dad.” For three years, I endured the hardship and exhaustion of being a single mother, gritting my teeth through every lonely day. But then came the third anniversary of his death. And I overheard my father-in-law yelling at the man I knew as my brother-in-law, David. “Daniel Ford! It was your brother who had asthma since we were in the womb, your brother who passed away! Why did you have to stage your own death and steal his identity?” Daniel Ford? That was my husband’s name. Stage your own death? I stood frozen, unable to process it, when the other man’s voice cut through the air. “Dad, my sister-in-law was pregnant at the time. How could she have handled that kind of shock? As for Lena… I gave her a son. She won’t have to spend the rest of her life childless. That’s enough.” “From that day on,” he continued, his voice cold and resolute, “I decided to take on my brother’s responsibility of caring for his wife. As for the identity of Daniel Ford, let it be buried forever.” I couldn’t bear to listen to another word. My limbs felt like ice, and a sharp, piercing pain throbbed in my head. So, it wasn’t my husband who had died. It was his twin. And the man who should have been my partner, my love, had faked his own death to take care of another man’s wife, abandoning me and our son without a second thought. Tears finally streamed down my face, hot and furious. Daniel had been my savior. He had pulled me from the darkest time in my life. After I was kidnapped, my reputation in our small town was ruined, but he didn’t care. He got down on one knee and proposed, swearing he would love me forever. And for five years, he had. He treated me like a queen, never letting me suffer the slightest grievance. Everyone said I had married the most devoted man in the world. I was the envy of every woman in town. That was why I had chosen to remain his widow. Now, I saw how pathetic I had been. Daniel had always been perfectly healthy. He never even caught a cold. How could he have died from an asthma attack? It was all an act. He had put on a three-year performance, all to take care of the woman he truly loved. And what about me and our son? What were we to him? I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob and fled. Back in my room, the noise woke our son, Leo. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. I looked at his small face, a perfect miniature of Daniel’s, and my heart shattered. How could Daniel, his own father, be so cruel as to let his son grow up thinking his dad was dead? Seeing the grief on my face, Leo looked at me with heartbreaking sympathy. “Mommy, is Daddy pretending he doesn’t know you again?” His words hit me like a physical blow. I remembered how, after Daniel reappeared as “Uncle David,” Leo would run to him, crying “Daddy!” I had always gently corrected him, telling him it was his uncle, not his father. I thought it was just a child’s wishful thinking, his inability to distinguish between two identical faces. I never imagined that I was the one who was blind. My son’s eyes had been clear all along. He always knew his own father. What he couldn’t understand was why, overnight, his daddy refused to recognize him. No wonder “Uncle David” had been so kind to us. He bought Leo gifts, checked in on him constantly, brought us groceries, and even secretly gave us money. But the moment Leo called him “Daddy,” he would become stern, instantly correcting him. Everyone said he was the best uncle in the world, more attentive than most fathers. Before I knew the truth, I had been so grateful, promising myself I would repay his kindness one day. Now, the irony was nauseating. He was Leo’s father. Wasn’t it his duty to be good to his own son? How could he do all those things without his conscience tearing him apart? A bitter taste filled my mouth. The Daniel I knew was well and truly dead. He had buried himself. And my three years of mourning him had officially ended our relationship. After composing myself, I looked at my son. “Leo,” I said softly, “what if Mommy remarries? What if I find you a new daddy? Would you be okay with that?” “Mommy, I don’t know why Daddy keeps pretending not to know me,” he said, his little voice wise beyond his years. “But if you don’t want him anymore, then I don’t want him either. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you. If Daddy won’t protect you, I will!” Feeling my sorrow, Leo threw his arms around my neck, his small hands patting my back. At that, a fresh wave of tears escaped. “Okay,” I whispered, holding him tight. I picked up the phone and called my parents. The moment they answered, they launched into their usual speech. “Lena, honey, since Daniel passed, Jacob Vance has been to the house a dozen times to ask for your hand. You’ve known each other since you were kids, and he’s a Captain now. Why are you so stubborn? Why won’t you just…” “Mom, Dad,” I cut in. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll do it. I’ll remarry.” There were five seconds of stunned silence, then an eruption of joyous disbelief. “Are you serious? Oh, that’s wonderful! We’ll call him right away and start planning! Don’t you worry, Jacob has promised us over and over that he’ll treat Leo like his own son. All you have to do is be happy.” I could feel their excitement through the phone. They had worried about me for three long years. My devotion to Daniel had disappointed them time and again. Not anymore. The next morning, I took Leo downstairs for breakfast. Daniel was fussing over his “sister-in-law” and niece, a perfect picture of a happy family. Before, I had envied her, imagining Daniel would have treated me with the same care if he were still alive. Now, the scene just made me sick. My eyes stung, but I refused to cry. There was no one left to wipe my tears. Daniel caught sight of my pale face and served me and Leo some bacon. “You should eat more, Lena,” he said, his tone casual and concerned, the perfect brother-in-law. “Daniel is gone, but you have to think of your son.” He spoke as if the dead man he mentioned wasn’t himself. “It’s okay, Uncle,” Leo piped up, using his fork to put a piece of bacon on my plate. “I can help Mommy.” The word “Uncle” struck Daniel like a bolt of lightning. He froze, knocking over his glass with a clatter. It was the first time Leo had ever called him that. For three years, no matter how much Daniel had corrected him, Leo had stubbornly called him “Daddy.” “Leo,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You… you always thought of me as your dad before. What changed?” Leo smiled a small, sad smile. “Uncle, I was just a little kid before. I get it now. My daddy died three years ago. Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again.” Daniel stared, speechless. Finally, he managed a hollow laugh. “Oh. Well, that’s good.” But his eyes darted between me and Leo, searching for a clue, his fork hovering over his plate, untouched. We ignored him, eating our breakfast in silence. His anxiety grew, his gaze constantly flicking toward us. “Even though I’m not Leo’s father,” he finally said, testing the waters, “I love him like my own son. Don’t be such a stranger. We’re family. If you ever need anything, just ask me. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.” I forced a bitter smile. Was he regretting it now that his son no longer called him “Daddy”? But he was the one who chose to fake his death, to abandon his child. I put down my fork and stood up, taking Leo’s hand. I didn’t thank him for his “care,” as I usually did. Instead, I looked him straight in his shocked eyes. “You’re right, David,” I said, using his brother’s name. “No matter how close we are, you’re not Leo’s real father. We’ll be just fine on our own.” The next day, I went to the department store. I bought Leo the milk candies and pastries he’d been craving, and then I went to the bridal section. I pointed to a stunning crimson dress and asked the clerk if I could try it on. Stepping out of the dressing room, I stared at my reflection, surprised at how much younger I looked. “Is this for your wedding?” the clerk gushed. “Red is so festive! Of all the women who have tried on this dress, you’re the first to make it look so beautiful.” But I silently took it off and pointed to a simple, elegant ivory dress instead. “I’ll take this one,” I said. A widow, I’d been told, shouldn’t wear a celebratory color for her second wedding. As I left the store, my arms full of bags, I ran right into Daniel, who was out shopping with his sister-in-law. He froze, then gave me an awkward greeting. “Lena? What are you doing out?” In the three years since his “death,” I had barely left the house. Seeing me out shopping, laden with bags, clearly surprised him. I mumbled an excuse, trying to brush past him. But as I did, he caught a glimpse of the dress bag. His expression turned grave. We had bought our wedding things in this very store. But back then, my dress had been crimson. Now, the dress in my bag was a subtle ivory. Why would a widow be buying a wedding dress? He stood there for a long time, so lost in thought that even his sister-in-law noticed something was wrong. That evening, when I brought Leo home from school, Daniel was waiting at our door, holding a brand-new backpack. The tag from the expensive international store was still attached. “Leo, your uncle got you a new backpack as a present for getting perfect scores on your test. Do you like it?” Leo looked at me, then shook his head at Daniel. “Thank you, Uncle, but I like the old one Mommy made for me.” The warm smile on Daniel’s face shattered. Panic flickered in his eyes. I sent Leo inside and blocked Daniel’s path. “We can’t keep taking things from you. You don’t need to buy him anything else.” He looked anxious, almost desperate. “Lena, I’m his uncle. It’s my duty to take care of you both. Don’t be like this.” I just laughed, a cold, empty sound. He frowned, unsettled. “I’m still your brother-in-law. Do you have to have this attitude with me?” I stared at him, my gaze boring into him, wondering how he had the audacity. “You said it yourself. You’re my brother-in-law. Not my husband. You have no right to question my attitude.” My behavior, combined with Leo’s, finally made him snap. He reached for my arm, his voice rising. “What’s going on, Lena? Why have you changed overnight?” I stepped back, out of his reach. “I’m your sister-in-law. Watch yourself.” Then I went inside and shut the door in his face. Daniel stood on the porch, silenced. For three years, even while living as David, his life hadn’t really changed. He still cared for me and Leo, our relationship still intimate and familiar. My warning was the first time he was forced to realize that we were no longer what we once were. He had to keep his distance. That night, Daniel rushed out and spent all his savings on three large tins of malted milk powder. He planned to bring them over the next morning, to apologize, to do whatever it took to fix things with us. He didn’t know it was our last night in that house. At dawn the next day, Leo and I, with all our luggage, were driven to the military base. As we entered, the young soldier at the gate smiled and called me Mrs. Vance. He said I was beautiful and my son was adorable, and that their Captain was a lucky man. I smiled back. For three years, I had worn nothing but drab colors. I barely ate meat. I lived like a nun, and my son, out of sympathy, had joined me, his face always pale. Now, that was over. Even Leo’s face was bright with anticipation for his new father. My fiancé, Captain Jacob Vance, had spared no expense for our wedding reception. He’d ordered dozens of tables of food from the best restaurant in the city and invited the entire base. He even sent men into town to announce that anyone who came to offer congratulations would receive wedding candy. Every detail was a testament to how much he valued me. Meanwhile, back at the Ford house, Daniel waited with his peace offerings. He waited and waited, but Leo and I never came down for breakfast. He looked up at our window, a sense of unease creeping over him. He went upstairs with his gifts and knocked, but there was no answer. The unease grew into dread. He threw his shoulder against the door, breaking it open. The rooms were empty. In the three years since his fake death, I had been a ghost in that house, either praying for his soul or lost in sorrow. I almost never went out. Where could we have gone so early in the morning? The memory of the ivory dress flashed in his mind. The certainty he’d felt just a day ago vanished. He rushed out, intending to find my parents, but was intercepted by one of his old army buddies, who dragged him toward the base. “It’s the Captain’s wedding day!” the man cheered. “We have to be there to celebrate!” “I heard the bride’s first husband died,” the friend chattered on. “Left her and her son in a tough spot. It’s a real blessing she found our Captain. A match made in heaven.” Daniel, his mind a chaotic mess, barely heard him. He just nodded along. It wasn’t until they entered the base and he heard the chorus of congratulations—”To Captain Vance and his bride, Lena, a hundred years of happiness!”—that the words finally registered. He stopped dead in his tracks, as if struck by lightning. He grabbed his friend’s shoulder, his eyes wide with panic. “The bride’s name is Lena? Which Lena?” Before the man could answer, I emerged from the main hall, holding hands with Jacob on one side and Leo on the other, walking straight into Daniel’s look of utter disbelief.

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When my older sister was fourteen, she was adopted by the Sterling family, the wealthiest in New York City. The village girl transformed into a wealthy heiress overnight. In the first year after she left, she secretly sent me a letter and a box of books. In the letter, she told me to study hard and come find her outside the mountains. She said the world outside was wonderful, that she was living well with the Sterlings, and that I shouldn’t worry. After that, I lost all contact with my sister. I never received another letter. Years later, I was admitted to a university in NYC to find her, only to discover that the Sterling family had no adopted daughter. Later, I dated a boy named Julian Sterling, the beloved only son of the family. When he was drunk one night, Julian told me a secret. He actually had an older brother who died in an accident before he turned eighteen. His parents bought a girl with a compatible horoscope to keep his brother company in the afterlife. 1 When the Sterlings drove their luxury car to our shack, my sister and I were chopping wood in the mountains. Our parents hurriedly called us back. They wanted to adopt my sister, take her to the big city to live in a mansion. My sister seemed unwilling. She pulled me in front of them. “Adopt my sister instead. She’s more obedient and prettier than me.” They didn’t even glance at me. Instead, they reached out and patted my sister’s head, smiling faintly. “We want you.” Dad pushed my sister toward the house. “Jasmine, go pack your things.” I wiped away tears secretly. I saw them hand my parents a check for a hundred thousand dollars. Their only condition was that we were never to contact my sister again. My parents took the check, grinning ear to ear. “Why are you selling my sister!” To me, this wasn’t adoption; it was selling their daughter! Dad heard me and kicked me viciously. “What does a brat like you know!” “She’s lucky to be chosen by rich people. Isn’t it good to be a wealthy young lady in the city?!” I wiped the tears from the corner of my eye and thought about it seriously. It seemed Dad was right. Being a rich daughter was better than suffering in these mountains, unloved by parents. The Sterlings looked at the meager belongings my sister packed, frowning slightly in distaste. “We’ll replace everything with new things.” My sister got into their luxury car. She rolled down the window, reaching out reluctantly to hold my hand, tears in her eyes. I pulled a half-finished woven bracelet from my pocket and put it on her wrist. “Sister, this is for you. I haven’t finished it yet. I wanted to give it to you for your birthday, but I might not have the chance now.” I choked up, big tears rolling down my face. The car started. My sister stuck her head out and shouted to me, “Violet! Study hard!” After that sentence, she seemed to say something else. But the car drove too fast, kicking up a tail of dust. The noise of the engine drowned out what she said after “study hard.” I didn’t hear her last words. 2 Two months after she left, my sister sent a large cardboard box to my school. Inside were many books, several new sets of underwear and tank tops that fit me, a letter, and a jasmine-scented sachet. Violet, I am doing very well at the Sterlings’. Don’t worry. I bought you many books you’ll need for your studies. Remember to wash the clothes before wearing them. I finished the bracelet you gave me. It’s beautiful, and I like it very much. I wear it all the time. I made the jasmine sachet myself from fresh jasmine flowers here. Smell the jasmine scent and pretend I am by your side. New York is beautiful, with tall buildings and endless traffic. The world outside the mountains is even more exciting than in the books. Violet, study hard. Get into college and come find me. I miss you so much. I looked at the letter written in my sister’s handwriting, tears falling onto the paper. I brought the jasmine sachet to my nose and took a deep breath. It smelled so good. It smelled like my sister. Every year around this time, my sister would pick fresh jasmine flowers, dry them, and make sachets for me. This year, she didn’t forget. 3 After my sister left, life at home didn’t improve with that hundred thousand dollars. Dad gambled it all away. He said he could turn one hundred thousand into two hundred thousand and buy a bigger house. But the gambling addiction grew stronger. Dad was possessed. In the end, he lost every penny and owed money to loan sharks. Debt collectors came to the door, threatening to break Dad’s legs if he didn’t pay. Mom ran away that night without taking me. The next day, Dad found Mom gone and flew into a rage. Before I went to school, Dad said to me, “Come home early today.” The way he looked at me was strange. I shuddered, feeling terrified. After school that day, I didn’t listen to Dad. Instead, I hid in an internet cafe next to the school and stayed there all night. I didn’t know until the police called my teacher the next day that Dad was dead. Debt collectors had attacked him. He collapsed at home and died from blood loss. I didn’t know why Dad insisted I come home that day, but thinking back, I still felt a lingering fear. With no other relatives, I became an orphan overnight. The school learned of my situation and contacted child services. I was placed in foster care, my expenses covered by the state. That year, I was ten. 4 Since that last package, I never received any news from my sister again. I waited day and night, but there was nothing. Did she really cut all ties with me? I missed her so much. I wondered if the Sterlings treated her well, if she was happy there. 5 Time passed quickly in the system. No one wanted to adopt a ten-year-old girl. I stayed until I turned eighteen. I finished high school successfully. All the colleges I applied to were in New York City. I wanted to find my sister. After all, she was my only family now. I had searched for the Sterling family online, trying to find information about my sister, but I couldn’t find anything related to their family members. It made sense. Children of such families were kept private. My sister must be very beautiful now. She should have graduated college. I wondered if she would recognize me. When the results came out, I was admitted to NYU. I stroked my acceptance letter repeatedly, my eyes getting wet. I thought my sister would be proud of me. 6 I embarked on the journey to New York with anticipation. It was my first time leaving the small town at the foot of the mountains where I had lived for over a decade. The joy and nervousness along the way were hard to hide. But the moment I stepped onto the land of New York, I suddenly felt lost and worried. Would she welcome me if I just showed up like this? After all, she had a new family. New York was truly beautiful. The endless prosperity was all in my eyes. My sister was right. The world outside the mountains was even more wonderful than in the books. 7 Starting college was busy. Various chores took up my time, and I hadn’t had a chance to find my sister yet. Of course, the main reason was that I was avoiding it. After thinking for a long time, I decided to ask around first to understand her current situation secretly, and then reunite with her when the time was right. The Sterlings were the richest family in New York. I thought information about them should be easy to find. But to my shock, when I asked my roommate, a local New Yorker, she told me: “Daughter? The Sterling Group doesn’t have a daughter.” I didn’t believe it and continued to ask, “Not biological, maybe an adopted daughter?” My roommate, Sarah, laughed. “Oh please, they have a biological son. Why would they adopt someone else’s child?” “So the Sterlings only have one child?” Sarah nodded, then quickly shook her head. “No, more than one.” My eyes lit up hearing this. “There was another son, but rumor has it he was sent abroad ten years ago and never came back. People say he’s illegitimate.” My hopeful gaze fell instantly. Eight years ago, the couple who came to adopt my sister were indeed the Sterlings. But I asked many people indirectly later, and the answer was always the same: The Sterling family never adopted a girl. Where did my sister go? She wrote to me saying she was living well with the Sterlings. She couldn’t have been lying to me. I still didn’t believe it. Surely they just kept the adopted child out of the public eye. 8 I continued to inquire about my sister, even though I found nothing. It was Sarah’s birthday. She treated us roommates to dinner, and afterward, they wanted to go clubbing. I didn’t want to go initially, having no interest in such places, but I couldn’t resist them dragging me along. “Come on, Violet. You’re in college now; you should try new things. Once you go to a club, you’ll want to go again.” My roommates were dancing excitedly on the floor. I sat on the side drinking juice, feeling awkward. Sarah suddenly sat next to me, pointing to a booth in a corner of the club. She whispered in my ear, “See that man sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, holding a drink?” I followed her gaze. In the dim corner, the faint light couldn’t hide the man’s exquisite face and extraordinary temperament. “Yeah, I see him. He’s handsome.” I nodded. Sarah continued, “That’s Julian Sterling, the only son of the Sterling family.” The Sterlings? Hearing this, I perked up instantly. I stared at Julian for a long time. Sarah jumped back onto the dance floor, while I stood up and walked toward Julian.

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When the top A-list star adjusted my earpiece, he subconsciously kissed my hair. We both froze. Because we were on a reality show about divorced couples. And we were from different marriages. 1 After I divorced Jax, everyone thought I would be the clingy ex-wife. He announced our marriage at the peak of his career. When he successfully transitioned from an idol to an award-winning actor, people always mentioned me. “What did she do to deserve him? She’s so lucky.” I was the one who asked for the divorce. But he was the one who had been waiting for it. When he was filming his new drama with his co-star, Sienna, she wore his clothes, used his phone case, and played house with him on set. Meanwhile, I was flipping through the calendar waiting for him to come home, only to have my calls declined because he was “busy.” It wasn’t until I ran into Sienna in first class that I knew. She greeted me with a warm, beaming smile. “Did you know?” she whispered in my ear. “I bought this ticket with his card.” She did it on purpose. She wanted to force my hand. I gave her what she wanted. It took me thirty minutes to pack my bags and leave our house. I didn’t want anything dirty that someone else had touched. Thank God we didn’t have kids. Jax leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His reaction was lukewarm. He only asked one question: “What else do you want?” “Your phone.” He paused, but handed it over. In the years he loved me most, I accompanied him from being a nobody to a superstar. I was always his only pinned contact. Now, I had been replaced. I was just on “Do Not Disturb.” It was an uncontested divorce. He gave me everything he had earned over the years, just begging me to let him go quickly. He said he truly loved Sienna. The day I signed the NDA and left, I thought I would never hear from him again. Until one month later, he called me. “Let’s meet.” “We can’t let the fans know you cheated. The show still has to air.” I arrived early. In the lounge, Jax’s agent was lecturing him. “Divorced, you’re still a top-tier actor. Her? She’s just a nobody waiting to be laughed at.” “She’s definitely not over you.” “Just trick her. Tell her you want to go on a divorce reality show with her.” “Make her think she can win you back. She’ll do anything to please you.” “We’ll edit the footage to make her look annoying, and you can secure your image as the devoted, heartbroken ex.” The agent nudged him. “Are you listening?” Jax had his legs up on the coffee table, lazily playing a mobile game. “Yeah.” “Trust me. You crook your finger, and she’ll come running like a puppy, grateful for the attention.” In the conference room. Jax played with his phone with one hand. He only said a few sentences. And I agreed. “I’ll do the show.” He stared into my eyes, pausing. “Are you really that… obsessed with me?” He was too confident. Too easy to fool. I lowered my lashes. “Yes.” “Jax, is there still a chance for us?” His gaze was cold. He looked away and muttered softly. “Depends on your performance.” “But,” he added, “the script for this show isn’t what you think.” This reality show would air while his new drama with Sienna was broadcasting. It was all to hype up the “chemistry” between him and Sienna. The show was titled The Split: A New Perspective on Marriage. Sienna would be rooming with him. And I would be rooming with Sienna’s husband. Caleb. The guy who exploded onto the scene at nineteen with one hit drama, won the Grand Slam of acting awards, and then vanished from the industry to get married. Jax was just his replacement. He got famous because he looked about 70% like Caleb. Rumor had it that after Caleb and Sienna married, they lived apart. She loved him, but he didn’t love her back. 2 A luxury hot spring resort. Two rooms, separated by a single wall. Livestreaming 24/7. There was a panel of commentators on set, and a barrage of live comments from the audience online. [Jax and Sienna are on a divorce show together? In the same room? This is wild!!!] [Their chemistry is insane. They look so good together.] [I told you Jax and his wife had no feelings left. No one likes a dead weight.] [I’ve been waiting for them to divorce for ages!] [Is he blind? He used to love her so much…] The staff put heart rate monitors on Jax and Sienna. “If your heart rate hits 70, you can leave the room.” [That’s gonna happen in a second.] But to everyone’s surprise, both their numbers hovered at 68. In private, they had done everything. They were too familiar with each other, and afraid of slipping up. So on the show, they pretended to be polite strangers. [Sienna is so respectful, she doesn’t even dare to get too close.] [Jax, stop holding back! We support you!] Sienna sat by the door. Jax stood on the balcony for fresh air. From his angle, he could see into my room. Caleb hadn’t arrived yet. I sat alone on the edge of the bed, wearing the heart rate watch. A knock on the door. It was a tall man. A baseball cap hid half his face, and the mist from the hot springs clung to the stray hairs on his forehead. It was drizzling outside. He carried the cold, crisp scent of the deep night. [My white moonlight is back!!!] [I gotta say, Jax… comparison is the thief of joy.] [Stop comparing them!] “You need to put this on.” I handed the other heart rate watch to Caleb. Jax hated it when people said he looked like Caleb. The first year of our marriage, we were walking the streets at midnight. I stared at a massive billboard featuring Caleb for a luxury brand, unable to look away. Jax jammed a hat onto my head, blocking my view, and said acidly: “I knew you liked that type of face.” Now. In the other room, Jax was on the balcony. Watching clearly. Watching Caleb walk into the room and close the door. Watching him put on the watch. Jax didn’t care. He knew since that night that Caleb—the man he couldn’t catch up to, the man he envied to death—was in a contract marriage with Sienna. Caleb didn’t even like Sienna. Of course, it was even less likely that he would like me—ordinary, divorced, someone even Jax looked down on. Jax scoffed, unbothered. Yet, he scrutinized every inch of my reaction. “Hello, Chloe.” My heart rate stayed at 50. I extended my hand. “Hello, Caleb.” He shook it. A few seconds later, the watch let out a piercing beep. Caleb’s heart rate had spiked off the charts. But the man himself was calmer than anyone. He said, “The watch is broken.” I said, “Oh.” 3 We swapped the watch, and sure enough, it was normal. Jax and Sienna played a few chemistry games, got their heart rates over 70, and left their room early. But on my side… Caleb’s heart rate stayed at a flat 25. Pathetically low. “If it never goes up,” I asked the staff, “do we have to stay in the room all night?” Caleb heard me. He stood tall, broad-shouldered in a thin black hoodie, his gaze empty and distant. The staff said, “It counts as a failed mission. You can come out in an hour.” Caleb and I were the last to emerge. [This is a disaster.] [Zero chemistry.] [Get them off screen. I only want to watch Sienna and Jax.] The comments were brutal until the livestream ended. In the post-show interview rooms. Cameras, lights, crowded with people. Jax stood in the corner, watching Sienna give her interview. His gaze swept over me unexpectedly. “Excited?” He asked me out of nowhere. “Did you have a moment where you thought Caleb might actually be interested in you?” I ignored him and tried to walk away. He blocked me. “What to do, Chloe,” he said, hands in his pockets, tilting his head. “I’m starting to think divorcing you was the best decision I ever made.” Someone walked by, and Jax straightened up. Back to that gentle, soulful, yet broken persona. As if I were the one who had hurt him deeply. When Sienna finished her interview, she walked up to me under everyone’s gaze and took my hand. “Chloe,” she said. On her wrist was an old red string bracelet. “Cherish Jax. He really loves you.” That bracelet. I recognized it. Last year on our anniversary, Jax was being followed by stalker fans and got into a minor car accident. He was fine. I dragged him up the mountain to a temple to pray for his safety. I closed my eyes, my heart full of prayers for him. When I opened them, I saw him buying a red string bracelet. I thought it was for me. But he said he bought it for himself, to give me peace of mind. Now, it was on Sienna’s wrist. “Stop being unreasonable,” Sienna said to the camera. “I want you two to be happy more than anyone.” I didn’t say a word. Jax didn’t know. Sienna didn’t know either. Actually, I agreed to this variety show for another reason—a hidden one I couldn’t tell anyone. That day at the temple, when I closed my eyes, the person in my heart wasn’t Jax. 4 The show was recorded on weekends. The concept was “Weekend Couples.” During the weekdays, I went back to my old job, trying to return to the entertainment group as an agent. “Caleb and Sienna are already divorced,” my former boss told me. “He signed a ten-year contract with Sienna’s father’s company. He’s finally free to terminate it. He’s restructuring his studio. I recommended you to him.” I followed the address he gave me and saw Caleb in a photography studio. His profile was backlit, his features sharp and rebellious. It was truly a face made for the silver screen. He was even harder to approach than I imagined. I waited outside for a long time. Until his assistant ran out and told me: “Sorry, Chloe. We probably can’t talk today.” On the way back, my car broke down. 11 PM. Middle of nowhere. Raining. I held an umbrella, waiting for the tow truck. Watching cars drive by from the distance, like passing ghosts in the night. None of them were coming for me. Then, headlights flashed. A black van window rolled down. Caleb’s assistant said: “Chloe, get in.” Caleb was in the very back, a baseball cap covering his face, asleep. His breathing was shallow, long legs cramped in the space. The car was cluttered. Two suit jackets hung by the window. The scent of cold pine. The same scent from when he shook my hand that day. “Chloe, I’m going to grab water at the gas station ahead. Do you want some?” the assistant whispered. “I’ll go with you.” “No, no,” he waved his hand and hopped out. “I’ll be quick.” The door closed. It was just me and Caleb. No one else. No cameras. The headlights flickered. The interior was dim. Even though there was a row of seats between us, his breathing sounded like it was right next to my ear. I stared at the blue neon sign of the gas station outside. The assistant was lingering in an aisle. I remembered once, shopping at a supermarket, I saw Sienna’s ad. “She’s so pretty,” I said to Jax back then. He reacted flatly. “She’s okay.” I didn’t know. That “okay” was the reason he didn’t come home time and time again. Later, I learned from others that Sienna was his first love. They broke up when he couldn’t get famous. He never got over her. But back then, in the supermarket, he just deftly changed the subject and asked me: “Babe, did you ever date anyone before me?” “No.” At least, that’s what I told everyone, including him. In the car, someone was kicking my calf. A long leg stretching from the back seat. Not accidentally. But deliberately, mischievously, childishly, rhythmically tapping me. I pulled my legs out of his reach. I didn’t speak. I didn’t turn around. I maintained my posture as if nothing had happened. “Chloe.” He spoke. Maybe because he just woke up, his voice carried a reckless, boyish tone. “Long time no see.” It had been so many years. Why did he still like calling my name like that? Just like in that cramped, humid rental apartment… Where I drowned over and over again… In his gentle, yet unrestrained, relentless hands.

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I was dead. Technically speaking, I was a lingering spirit tethered to a pre-war walk-up in Queens, New York. I died the cliché way: a Wall Street burnout who lost everything in a Ponzi scheme, got diagnosed with terminal cancer, and decided to check out early via a sturdy belt and the ceiling fan. I was bitter, angry, and had successfully scared off twelve tenants in two years. Then came Chloe. She was broke—like, “eating ramen for dinner six nights a week” broke. She walked in with a shady broker who told her the rent was $800 a month. In New York City. That alone should have been a red flag the size of a billboard. “It’s haunted,” the broker whispered, terrified to step inside. “The last guy… hung around, if you catch my drift.” Chloe just checked her bank account app, sighed, and said, “Does the Wi-Fi work? I’ll take it.” The Arrangement I intended to haunt her. I really did. But on her first night, instead of trembling in fear, she set up a little altar on the radiator. She didn’t use incense; she lit a fancy “Stress Relief” candle and waved a bundle of burning sage around. “Okay, look,” she announced to the empty room. “I know you’re here. I respect your space. You’re basically my invisible roommate now. As long as you don’t murder me, I’ll keep the place clean and the vibes good. Deal?” I watched her from the ceiling. She was tiny, wearing an oversized hoodie, looking terrified but determined. Deal, I thought. We fell into a routine. She ate mac and cheese; I inhaled the scent of her eucalyptus candles (which, surprisingly, felt like a spa day for my soul). She hung up fairy lights and tapestries to cover the water stains. She turned my tomb into a Pinterest board. I learned about her life. She came from a small town in the Midwest, drowning in student loans, working double shifts at a warehouse while studying for grad school. She was exhausted. One night, she fell asleep with a pot of water boiling on the stove. The water overflowed, extinguishing the flame, filling the tiny kitchen with gas. I panicked. I couldn’t touch things easily, but adrenaline (or whatever ghosts have) kicked in. I focused all my energy and snapped the circuit breaker. The sudden darkness woke her up. She smelled the gas, rushed to turn it off, and opened the window. “Thanks, Roomie,” she whispered into the dark, shivering. I realized then: I didn’t want to scare her. I wanted to protect her. The Scumbag Then came Tyler. He was her “boyfriend,” if you could call him that. He was a SoundCloud rapper with a trust fund he’d already blown, addicted to Call of Duty, and possessed the personality of a wet sock. He came over one night, complaining about the walk-up. “Babe, it’s freezing in here,” he whined, grabbing her hands. “Warm me up.” I hovered in the corner, glaring. Get your hands off her. Chloe pulled away gently. “I’ll make you some tea.” Tyler didn’t leave. He ate her food, complained about her cheap TV, and then had the audacity to ask her for gas money. “I need fifty bucks to get back to Jersey,” he lied. I knew he lived ten blocks away. Chloe, being the saint she was, gave it to him. I followed him out. I watched him walk into a dive bar, buy a round of shots for some random girl, and brag about “finessing some chick for cash.” I made the bar lights flicker and explode. Tyler screamed like a toddler and ran out. It was petty, but it felt great. The Incident A few months later, things escalated. Chloe was sick—flu season hit her hard. She was curled up in bed, miserable. I was pacing (floating?) anxiously, wishing I could just hand her a glass of water. Tyler showed up. He claimed he was there to take care of her, but he reeked of cheap cologne and desperation. “You look hot when you’re sick,” he muttered, sitting on the edge of her bed. His hand crept up her leg. “Tyler, stop. I’m not feeling well,” Chloe croaked. “Come on, I came all the way here,” he sneered, pushing her back down.

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The “School Prince” hated my stutter. He told me to keep my mouth shut and just be a pretty, silent doll. But the “School Bully”—the chaotic rich kid everyone feared—paid someone to switch seats just to sit next to me. He spent all day trying to make me talk. “Hey, if you tutor me, I’ll order you a whole roast duck for dinner. Deal?” My face burned red. “N-N-No!” (I meant No shame!) He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t be polite! It’s on me!” Later, he forced me to become the fastest trash-talker in the stuttering community. Like a Peashooter from Plants vs. Zombies. Right before finals, the School Prince tried to manipulate me into tanking my GPA so the new transfer student could take first place. The School Bully leaned against the wall, cracking sunflower seeds, and jutted his chin at me. “Little Stutter! Roast him!” I kept a straight face. “Dumb!” “Ass!” 1 This morning, I bumped into Mrs. Greene, my neighbor. She shoved a breakfast sandwich into my hands and told me to give it to her son, Julian. I walked up to Julian’s desk. “Ju… Ju… Julian, this is…” “Alright, that’s enough.” Julian waved me off impatiently. “Listening to you stutter gives me a headache.” “Bailey, I know you like me, but can you stop with the breakfast delivery? It’s weird.” A few girls nearby giggled. He smirked, looking smug. “Honestly, Bailey, you’re pretty when you’re quiet. Maybe just… don’t talk from now on.” My face felt like it was on fire. I wanted to explain that his mom made me bring it, but the more anxious I got, the more my throat locked up. Inside, I was screaming a thousand-word essay. It’s always like this! Julian knew his mom made me do this. But he always cut me off before I could finish, letting everyone believe I was some desperate simp buying him breakfast. Everyone thought I had a crush on him. He was tall, captain of the basketball team, possessed deep dimples—the whole package. But I didn’t like him. We lived in the same apartment building. I grew up watching him pick his nose and wipe it on other kids. My mom, worried I’d get bullied because of my stutter, asked him to “look out for me.” So Mrs. Greene felt entitled to use me as a free delivery service. But Julian never looked out for me. He just looked down on me. Suddenly, a lazy, drawling voice cut through the noise. “Yo, looks like a party in here.” Axel strolled in, swinging his backpack over one shoulder. He scanned me, then let his gaze land on Julian. Before anyone could react, Axel walked up to Julian, made a series of complicated hand signs like he was casting a spell from Naruto, and then smack—slapped a sticky note onto Julian’s forehead. “What the hell?!” Julian recoiled. Axel looked mock-surprised. “Oh, my bad. I thought you hated talking, so I was using sign language. Guess you know mouths are for speaking after all.” Someone in the back snorted. Julian’s face turned purple. “Axel! Are you crazy?” “Rude. I was just saying good morning.” Axel reached out and grabbed the sandwich sitting on Julian’s desk. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it. Starving.” “Wait! That’s what Bailey bought for me!” Too late. Axel took a massive bite. “Why didn’t you say so?” Axel immediately spat the bite back into the wrapper, grimacing. “I thought Bailey bought it. If your mom made it, why are you acting so high and mighty? If you want something else, tell your mommy yourself.” The classroom went dead silent. Everyone looked between me and Julian. “Wait, so Bailey didn’t buy it? It was his mom?” I nodded furiously. Julian looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him. Axel tossed his backpack onto the desk next to mine. My deskmate, Sarah, looked terrified. “Switch seats?” Axel asked. “Axel, this is my seat…” Sarah squeaked. Axel pulled out his phone. Tap, tap, tap. Buzz. Sarah looked at her phone. Her eyes bugged out. “$5,000?!” “Switch or not?” Axel tilted his chin. “Deal!” Sarah grabbed her stuff and bolted. Before I could process what happened, Axel sat down, sprawling his long legs. “Don’t be shy, Ba-Ba-Bailey. Sit.” I was speechless. I knew he was rich, but five grand just to switch seats? 2 “Prime real estate,” Axel muttered, propping his chin on his hand. “View of the soccer field and next to the class valedictorian. I might actually pass this year.” “F-Failure,” I whispered. I regretted it instantly. But Axel’s eyes lit up. “Yo, Little Stutter got jokes?” “Your voice is nice. Say more stuff.” People were staring. My ears were burning. “Tell you what,” Axel said, dumping a crumpled pile of worksheets onto my desk. “You tutor me, and tonight I’ll order you a whole roast duck. To nourish your brain.” Coughs erupted around the room. My face was crimson. “N-N…” No shame! Asking a stutterer to tutor him? Was he insane? We wouldn’t finish the first chapter before graduation! “Don’t be polite!” Axel grinned, eyes crinkling. “I’m serious. Me and these papers? We’re strangers. If this keeps up, I’m failing finals.” Julian walked over, looking concerned. “Bailey, are you sure you want to sit next to him? Finals are coming up. He’ll drag you down.” Axel’s smile didn’t fade, but his eyes went cold. “Want me to sit next to you instead?” Julian choked. “No thanks. I don’t need your grades rubbing off on me.” The homeroom teacher walked in, saw Axel, frowned, but said nothing. Axel’s dad is the Chairman of a Fortune 500 company. When Axel fails a test, his dad donates a new library wing. The teachers learned to look the other way. I thought Axel was joking about tutoring. He wasn’t. As soon as class ended, he blocked my exit. “Why is the answer C? Why not A, B, or D? Do you have beef with them?” Beef? It’s math! I tried to explain, but the words got stuck. Axel whipped out his phone. “Hold up. Add me on WeChat. Just type it.” He shoved the QR code in my face. I hesitated, then scanned it. Ding. [Transfer Received: $10,000.00] [Note: Tutoring Fee (Voluntary Gift)] I stared at the zeros. My fingers paused over the “Block” button. I deleted Get lost and typed: [Okay! ^_^] Axel grinned like a fox who stole the hen. Stutterers have their ways. I discovered the Text-to-Speech function. Axel wasn’t dumb; he just had zero foundation. He picked things up fast. By lunch, we had finished half a math packet. [Genius!] I typed. Axel preened. “Duh. Dad went to Harvard, Mom went to Yale. I might be lazy, but the genes are strong.” I deleted the compliment. After school, Julian stood by my desk, reaching for my bag. “Bailey, let’s walk home.” Before I could react, Axel hooked my bag with one finger and swung it over his shoulder. “No need. I drive my own tutor home.” “We live in the same building. It’s on the way,” Julian insisted. “I have a driver,” Axel smirked. “Even more on the way.” “Rolls Royce Phantom. Want to try it, Ba-Ba? If you don’t like it, I’ll bring the Bentley tomorrow.” Julian’s eye twitched. He glared at Axel and stormed off. 3 As soon as I got in the car, my phone buzzed. Julian. [Axel is just a rich playboy who’s going to study abroad anyway. He’s playing with you. Don’t be stupid.] [Julian, tell your mom to stop making me bring you breakfast. I’m busy.] I don’t care if Axel goes abroad. He paid, I tutor. It’s a transaction. Julian sent a voice message. One minute long. I hate voice messages. Axel leaned over. “Voice message? Gross.” He tapped ‘Delete’ before I could listen. “Tell you what. You tutor me in math, I’ll tutor you in skills.” I tilted my head. “Trash talking.” What kind of skill is that? “Don’t underestimate it!” Axel lectured. “When someone states an opinion, right or wrong, you type: ‘Cope.’” “When someone defends a person you hate, you type: ‘Simp.’” “When someone tries to debate or explain, type: ‘Triggered.’” “When you don’t understand their logic, type: ‘Lol.’” “When they make up a strawman argument, type: ‘Reach.’” “When they say something actually valid, type: ‘Cap.’” “When you think you nailed them, type: ‘W.’” “When you can’t think of a comeback, type: ‘Mid.’” “Remember: ‘Cope’ beats ‘Triggered,’ ‘W’ beats ‘Reach,’ and ‘Lol’ beats everything.” “Some things don’t need explaining. Just roast them!” “If they still don’t get it, hit ’em with a ‘Skill issue.’” He held down the voice record button on my phone. “Try it.” I was skeptical. “C-Cope!” Axel cackled and hit send. Julian sent back five furious voice messages. He was definitely triggered. Axel deleted them all. When we got to my building, Axel handed me a paper bag. “Wait! I promised you a duck.” It was roast duck. From the best place in town. So the smell in the car wasn’t… oh god. My face burned. I grabbed the bag and ran. I saw Julian peeking through his curtains on the 7th floor. “See ya tomorrow, Ba-Ba!” Axel waved from the Rolls. At my door, Julian was waiting with a Tupperware container. “Bailey, I know your parents are working late. I brought dinner.” He glanced at the fancy bag in my hand. “Isn’t that roast duck? You said duck tastes gamey. You like my mom’s Sweet and Sour Ribs.” It’s only gamey if it’s cheap duck! This is gourmet! I shook the bag. “N-N-No thanks.” Julian frowned. “Bailey, Axel is just bored. Don’t daydream. You’re just a normal girl.” The hallway light flickered. I looked at the ribs. I remembered when I was little, my parents paid his mom to feed me when they worked late. Julian would pile ribs onto my plate. His mom would always say, “Oh, Bailey has a small stomach, don’t waste food.” Even though we paid, they treated me like a beggar. 4 But when Julian’s parents were away, my parents fed him like a king for free. “I… I d-don’t…” The stutter was back. Buzz. Axel: [Like the duck? If not, chicken tomorrow?] Me: [The rotisserie place across from school is good!] Axel: [Copy that!] Julian was still waiting for me to open the door so he could follow me in. I typed on my phone and hit ‘Play’. “Julian, I’m an adult. I know what I’m doing. Also, your mom puts cilantro in the ribs.” I hate cilantro. “Bailey! If you don’t like cilantro, just pick it out!” I told him a million times. He never remembers. His mom says, “Julian loves cilantro, just accommodate him.” Why? “Mid!” I used my new skill. Julian: ??? “Bailey! How long have you been hanging out with Axel? You’re cursing now?” Mid isn’t a curse word, you walnut! If I could talk properly, I’d roast him into the next century. He left, disappointed. That night, my mom came home early. She saw the duck. “Why didn’t you eat at the Greenes’?” “I sent Mrs. Greene a red packet (money) for the food, but she put cilantro in it again.” I explained everything. “The audacity! Mrs. Greene is money-hungry! She offered to cook for you! We only agreed because her husband was the only one working!” Mom called her and yelled, “Refund!” Mrs. Greene tried to argue, but my mom—a lawyer—destroyed her. The money came back. Next morning, classroom. Julian confronted me. “Bailey, why did you embarrass my mom?” “She’s always been good to you! When you had a fever in 9th grade, she drove you to the ER! When your mom worked late, she cooked feasts!” Feasts? In 9th grade, their water heater broke, so they all came to use ours. When it was my turn, the power went out. Mrs. Greene told me to “just take a cold shower quickly.” I got a fever of 103. My parents called 911. Mrs. Greene just watched the ambulance load me up. I stared at Julian’s moving lips. I enunciated clearly: “Cope.” “What?” I rolled my eyes. “Triggered.” He looked confused. His CPU was overheating. Before he could argue, I held up six fingers. “Skill issue.” His face turned liver-colored. “Are you mocking me? Did Axel teach you this? I knew it! He’s a bad influence…” I typed rapidly. Text-to-Speech, max volume. “Cope! Seethe! Dilate!”

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