Category: English

1 My mom is obsessed with those viral web series—the ones where a billionaire CEO pretends to be a broke nobody. When she was heartbroken that the hero couldn’t afford his grandmother’s medical bills, I pointed to the Patek Philippe watch he accidentally flashed on screen. “Mom, look. That watch could pay for grandma to live in a luxury hospital suite for the next twenty years.” When she sobbed through three handkerchiefs because the hero fainted from hunger after saving his breakfast money for tuition, I pointed to the Rolls-Royce Cullinan key in his hand. “Mom, see that? That car could buy him breakfast for the rest of his life.” To avoid being duped myself, I became an unwilling expert on luxury brands, studying every frame of my mom’s favorite shows. But every guy I’d ever met was disappointingly normal, giving me no chance to showcase my skills. Until my new boyfriend gave me a two-dollar ring, right after buying his childhood friend a two-million-dollar jewelry set. Until he showed up in a four-thousand-dollar t-shirt to borrow twenty thousand from me for his mother’s surgery. I immediately pulled out a flyer for a shady, back-alley clinic. “Babe, if we need money, we’ll earn it. One kidney goes for twenty grand. See? Your mom’s medical bills are covered.” I smiled sweetly. “I won’t even take the five-thousand-dollar finder’s fee. We can use it to buy supplements for your mom.” … Before my boyfriend, Brett, could even process what was happening, I dragged him to the nearest black-market clinic and signed the consent form for him. It all happened in a blur. By the time he snapped out of it, we were sitting outside the operating room. Brett’s face was ashen, and cold sweat soaked the collar of his deceptively simple, outrageously expensive cotton t-shirt. “Babe, I think we need to talk about this,” he stammered, his hand trembling as he clutched the organ donation agreement. I pretended not to hear him, leaning in closer. “What’s there to discuss? Your mom needs the money urgently, right? I already asked; the chances of finding a match for your kidney are high. Twenty thousand dollars, cash, deposited into your account the same day.” “Are you scared of the pain?” I patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, the nurse said it’s general anesthesia. You’ll just take a nap and it’ll be over. Look how professional this place is. They even have commendation banners on the wall.” I pointed to a banner that had clearly been photoshopped. Brett’s gaze followed my finger, and his mouth twitched. He lowered his voice, his tone urgent. “What I mean is, I can’t let you make such a huge sacrifice for me!” I blinked, my face a mask of innocence. “Sacrifice? Babe, you’re the one selling the kidney, not me. I just made a few calls.” His mind raced, desperately searching for an out. Finally, a new excuse burst forth. “The money! I got the money!” he shouted. “Just now! A buddy of mine, he heard my mom was sick and wired me twenty thousand, no questions asked! Look!” He fumbled for his phone, swiping frantically before shoving a chat history in my face. I smirked inwardly but kept my expression neutral, looping my arm through his and pulling him toward the exit. “However,” I said, stopping in my tracks and tilting my head up to look at him. His heart leaped back into his throat. “However what?” he asked, his voice tense. I counted on my fingers, my expression serious. “Okay, babe, let’s do the math. Your friend lent you twenty thousand for your mom’s surgery, right?” He nodded hesitantly. “But,” I continued, “when I signed the agreement, I promised the doctor that if we backed out, we’d have to pay a five-thousand-dollar penalty for their time and sterilization costs. How are we going to handle that?” His face fell again. Five thousand dollars was less than a dinner bill for him, but for his down-and-out persona, it was a fortune. He stammered, unable to form a single word. I sighed dramatically, pulling a crumpled fifty-dollar bill from my pocket and pressing it into his hand. “Don’t worry, babe. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. This is the last of my cash, but you take it. We’ll figure out the rest together.” He stared at the bill, his expression even more horrified than it had been outside the OR. “What are you doing?” “We’re a couple. Your problems are my problems,” I said, gazing at him with unwavering devotion. “I may not have money, but I have connections. I know a foreman at a construction site. They’re short on guys to haul cement. It’s three hundred a day, and they throw in lunch. We can pay off the debt in five months!” I grabbed his arm, giving him no choice but to follow me out of the hospital. “Come on, let’s go now. The sooner we start, the sooner we’re out of debt. Let’s do this, babe! For our future!” Brett’s body was rigid. He let me drag him a few steps before he violently shook my hand off. “That’s enough!” he growled. “I’ll figure out the five thousand! Just wait for my call.” With that, he bolted from the hospital without a backward glance. I stood there, watching him flee, a triumphant smile spreading across my face. I bought a cheap popsicle from the hospital’s convenience store and waited. Sure enough, less than half an hour later, he called. His voice was still a little shaky, but it had a newfound confidence. “I transferred the money.” I opened my banking app. Five thousand dollars, sitting neatly in my transaction history. I feigned utter astonishment, my voice jumping an octave. “Babe, you’re amazing! How did you solve it so fast?” There was a pause on the other end as he formulated his lie. “I sold the gold pendant I always wear. Money can be earned back, but I can’t let you suffer with me.” “Anyway, don’t worry about it. It’s over.” Listen to him. So moving. My tone became incredibly firm. “Brett Astor, that five thousand dollars is a testament to our love, and it’s our shared debt. I can’t stand by while you carry this burden alone. Starting today, I’m going to work with you to pay it back, until we’ve earned back the money for that… watch!” I didn’t give him a chance to object. “I’ve already found a job. I’ll call you after my shift!” Click. I hung up. At seven that evening, I took a cab to the city’s most exclusive karaoke lounge. The receptionist handed me a temporary staff badge, which I carefully pinned to my chest, ready to begin my shift as a janitor. I found the private room, and as I approached the door, I heard Brett’s voice from inside. He was surrounded by a crowd of rich heirs and scantily clad girls. “So, Astor, what’s with you lately?” one of them slurred, draping an arm around Brett’s shoulders. “Heard you’re slumming it with some girl from the sticks?” Brett sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “I was bored. Just looking for some entertainment. You should have seen her face when she thought I had to sell a kidney for twenty grand. Hilarious.” “You haven’t actually fallen for her, have you? I mean, she’s not bad to look at, got a decent body.” Brett roared with laughter, a harsh, grating sound. “Fallen for her? Me, an Astor, fall for some broke girl who reeks of poverty? Don’t be ridiculous. If you want her, I’ll pass her your way when I’m done.” He paused, adding, “Every young woman is a gold digger. I just want to see how long she can keep up the act.” I stood outside the door, listening to every single word. He was exactly the piece of trash I thought he was. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. The noisy room fell silent. When Brett saw me, his smile froze, and a flash of panic crossed his eyes. “Babe!” I cried, my voice filled with delighted surprise as I looked straight at him. “You work here too?” He shot to his feet, giving his friends a frantic, subtle gesture. “Uh, yeah. I work here too.” Just then, a girl stood up from the sofa. She was more lavishly dressed than anyone else in the room. It was Veronica Vance, the heiress to the Vance Corporation. She sauntered over to me, looking me up and down before letting out a contemptuous laugh. “Cleaning toilets at your age in a place like this? Must be hoping to snag a rich guy, sell yourself to the highest bidder.” Veronica raised an eyebrow and pulled a thick wad of cash from her limited-edition handbag. “Look at you, all poor and pathetic. I bet you’ve never seen this much money in your life.” She fanned the bills out, shaking them as if offering scraps to a dog. “How about this: you get on your knees, lick my shoes clean, and then put on a little show for us. If we’re amused, this ten thousand dollars is all yours.” My eyes lit up. I stared at the cash. “Ten thousand? Would you pay more for a duet?” Before Veronica could answer, I grabbed Brett’s hand. I leaned in close, whispering in his ear, “Babe, we’ve got to do this! For the money!” Then, I pulled him into the middle of the room. In front of everyone, I started dancing to the music. My moves were comically clumsy, a clownish performance with no grace, only absurdity. I kept yanking Brett closer, grinding against him with a gross, greasy laugh. “C’mon, honey, shake it! You know how you move in the bedroom!” “Let’s go, babe! With this money, we can finally pay off our debt!” Brett’s face was thunderous. He had never been so humiliated in his life. Finally, he snapped, violently shoving my hand away with a force that nearly sent me sprawling. He stormed out of the room without looking back. I watched him go, then calmly bent down and scooped up the wad of cash Veronica had thrown on the floor, tucking it into my bag. Only then did I run after him. “Babe, where are you going? We haven’t earned enough yet!” I yelled, catching up to him, panting for effect. Brett stopped, his back to me, his body stiff. “It’s nothing. I just got called into the office for an emergency shift,” he mumbled, then walked away without another glance. I took out the stack of bills from the lounge and happily counted them as I got in a cab and went home. A few days later, I discovered that a video from the karaoke lounge had been leaked online. In it, my terrible dancing was a stark contrast to Brett’s furious expression. The headline was sensational: [NYC HEIR BRETT ASTOR’S WILD DANCE, FORCED TO PERFORM BY GIRLFRIEND!] The comment section exploded with mockery aimed at him. Before I could properly enjoy my victory, my phone buzzed. It was a series of texts from Veronica. “Zoe, you’ve got some nerve, humiliating Brett like that.” “I’m telling you right now, you will never marry into the Astor family!” “You want to be a socialite? Keep dreaming!” The next message was a photo of my father, sitting at his office desk, his face pale. “Your dad works for my family’s company. Well, he’s fired now. And he owes us a million dollars for breach of contract. That’s the price for embarrassing my Brett!” Another message followed, this one a video. My mother was at her small breakfast cart on the street. A group of thugs suddenly swarmed it, smashing everything to pieces. My mother tried to stop them and was shoved to the ground. My heart leaped into my throat. I opened the last image. It was a hospital report. Right arm: fractured. “Only I, Veronica Vance, am worthy of Brett!” Veronica’s texts oozed arrogance. “And you? You’re just some trash from the gutter! A parasite like you deserves to struggle in the dirt for the rest of your life!” My fingers turned white as I gripped the phone. I forwarded all the evidence to a specific number. Then, I hailed a cab to go see Brett. I was seething with rage, but the moment I saw him, my eyes welled up with tears. “Babe, our love is being tested! My family is in trouble, we need a lot of money. You have to quit your job so we can work more and earn it back faster!” I grabbed him and pulled him out the door. My grip was surprisingly strong. Maybe it was his guilt, or maybe his twisted game wasn’t over yet. He didn’t resist, letting me lead him to the construction site I had mentioned before. Brett’s face paled as he looked at the clouds of dust, but he forced himself to sound calm. “I’ll work with you. We’ll pay it all back.” I put him to work, laying bricks, hauling cement. Brett’s pampered face was soon streaked with sweat and grime. He had never experienced hardship like this. In just two days, he lost weight, his eyes were sunken, and his lips were cracked. Finally, on the fourth day, I received a notification: a one-million-dollar deposit into my bank account. And Brett finally broke. He collapsed onto a dusty cement bag, staring at the mountain of bricks before us. His hands trembled as he clutched at my sleeve. His voice was thick with tears. “Babe, let’s stop! Please!” I wiped the smile from my face. “We can’t. We haven’t paid off the debt. Are you tired, babe? Don’t worry, I found us a new job.” Brett’s eyes lit up. “It’s not manual labor, is it?” “Of course not!” I grinned. “We’re going to sell our blood. Then, after that, we can be human test subjects for new drugs. I have a list of dozens of clinical trials looking for volunteers. Once we finish those, all our debts will be paid!” At my words, the color drained from his face. Just as I was about to drag him to the clinic, he threw my hand off. “That’s enough! I’m Brett Astor, the sole heir to the Astor Corporation! I have money, I’ll give you whatever you want!” “Zoe, I can’t take it anymore. I’ll confess!”

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The werewolf I raised for ten years talked back to me for the sake of a bastard daughter. As I coldly whipped him eighty-eight times, the livestream comments exploded with hate: [Oh my god! Is this toxic woman crazy with jealousy? She’s actually trying to kill him!] [What’s the difference between this and treating the male lead like a dog? This is straight-up abuse! No wonder he saved the bastard daughter instead of you!] [If not for her tough attitude and constant threats, the male lead wouldn’t have stayed with her anyway!] Threats? Threatening a disloyal dog? I was silent for a long time, then scoffed. I ordered his belongings thrown out. The next day, I picked a new wolf pup from the underground arena. Half a month later, he heard the news and came running from the bastard daughter’s place in the pouring rain. Gripping my arm tightly, eyes red, he asked with a trembling voice: “Did you really get a new beastman?” 1 When I dragged the bloodied wolf pup home, the villa fell into a deathly silence. No one expected that after my harsh words yesterday, I would actually bring a new beastman home today. The butler, catching a vase his trembling hands almost dropped, stepped forward and asked where to put him. I glanced at him. “Where do you think?” Beastmen need personal training. His room would be next to mine. He probed cautiously: “What about the things in that room…” “Throw them out,” I said coldly. Everyone knew what happened. The werewolf I raised for ten years talked back to me for a bastard daughter. When we both fell into the water, he swam towards her without hesitation. Last night, suppressing my rage, I whipped him eighty-eight times. Even as the whip soaked in blood, he kept his face tight and didn’t make a sound. I was soaked, my palms burning. When the last lash fell and blood spurred from his mouth, I snapped: “Speak!” He finally looked up, eyes devoid of emotion. “Say what? What does the Young Miss want to hear?” Knowing I was furious, he provoked me further with rhetorical questions. “You bought my life, broke and reset my bones, carved your rules into my flesh. What? Now that the wolf you raised with your own hands disobeyed, you feel embarrassed?” It was laughable. Knowing I raised him, he still saved the little white flower trying to steal my inheritance. The night stretched endlessly into the distance. He smirked. “The Young Miss has plenty of people who care. You don’t need me.” “Don’t need you?” I scoffed. “Lucas, don’t forget why I raised you.” His gaze was mocking, his back straight with cold pride. “I can’t guess your thoughts.” “I only know you are high above, surrounded by stars. There were countless hands reaching for you on the shore, but her back was empty.” “Maybe you’ve never felt like drowning and grasping at a straw—but I have. In that moment, I was the only one who noticed her.” The night wind chilled me to the bone. I smirked sarcastically. “So?” His gaze was cold, words clear. “She only has me.” Only you??? The absurdity expanded in my eyes. In a stare-down lasting half a minute, he didn’t flinch. I scoffed, jaw tightening. “Want to be her dog?” “Fine.” “I’ll deliver you personally.” A werewolf’s blood and pride would never allow being called a dog. But I wanted to humiliate him. I drove him to Ella’s rental apartment that night. When I kicked him out, he only frowned slightly. Then, enduring the bleeding wounds on his back, he stood up slowly and limped towards the lit villa. His back was lonely and proud, never bowing. 2 They say once bitten, twice shy. No one thought I would raise another wolf pup. At first, the underground arena boss recommended a batch of different beastmen. I looked them over again and again, but none caught my eye. Frustrated, I turned to leave. Just as I was about to turn the corner and leave the corridor, a bloodstained hand reached out from a cage in the corner and grabbed my boot. I looked down. I’ve seen too many beasts on the verge of death. Most are hysterical, numb, crazy, or begging pitifully. But unexpectedly, in the filthy blood and cold shadows, I saw a pair of stubborn, clear black eyes. He said he was willing to be my dog. Just for a bite of food. I glanced at the cage label—Defective. The boss, chattering beside me, broke into a cold sweat. I raised my hand to stop him from interfering. Taking off my black leather glove, I squatted slowly. In the underground ring, forever mixed with rust and rot, a single beam of light hit my fingertips. I lifted his chin, studying him intently. If he had watched me picking people earlier, he would know how strict my requirements were. He was lingering on his last breath, almost dead. The heartbeat in his chest was anxious. He could hear his every breath. Three minutes of scrutiny felt like a century. Yet he saw no change in my cold expression. Just as his black eyes were dimming, I suddenly raised an eyebrow. “Willing to come with me?” His drooping wolf ears perked up instantly. He wagged his tail desperately like a dog, eyes burning like a lit flame. Rubbing against my wrist, repeating fervently—Willing. Willing to come with me, willing to be my dog, willing to be loyal forever, never betraying me. Good. That’s what I like to hear. I looked at the terrified boss and said calmly: “Him.” 3 I didn’t plan to keep this wolf pup. After all, he was defective. He couldn’t possibly survive my long and rigorous training. When his wounds healed, I told him he could leave. He was stunned for a long time before asking: “Why?” Emotions surged in his wet black eyes as he stared at me unblinkingly. I flipped my newspaper casually. “No reason. Consider it charity.” The butler stepped forward to pull him away, whispering: “Sigh, our Young Miss only wants the strongest and most loyal beastmen. Don’t dream about it. Your predecessor was sent away overnight for disloyalty. He was with her for ten years, and she didn’t even flinch…” As the butler rambled, the space beside him suddenly emptied. The boy beastman returned. His voice, hoarse and still panting, asked: “Can I have a chance to do better than him?” I rarely lifted my eyelids. “In what aspect?” He clenched his fingers, enunciating clearly: “Every aspect.” Strength, loyalty. He would do better than the predecessor the butler mentioned. I put down the newspaper, looking at him with interest. In the spacious and bright living room, he waited nervously for my judgment. I didn’t pay much attention to his looks when I brought him back. Now that he was clean, I realized every part of him was aggressive. High brow bones, sharp eyes. Yet his wet eyelashes softened the fierceness. Stubborn and clear black eyes, just like that day. —That was exactly why I took him. After a long stare, I finally spoke: “Okay.” “If you can survive.” 4 My training is known for its cruelty. Numbers One through Five didn’t survive this period. He was the seventh. Names are just codes. Besides taking my surname, the name Seven meant nothing special. But he nodded seriously. I didn’t intend to go hard immediately. But his potential far exceeded my expectations. In just one week, he completed all basic training and actively requested increased difficulty. It made me suspect the “Defective” label was a mistake. Sunset. He just finished a 100-kilometer mountain cross-country run with a 200-pound load. The muscles in his calves twitched uncontrollably. He had to support himself with hands on his knees to keep from falling. Six hours. Muscle tearing while maintaining shooting accuracy. He did it on the third try. I rested one arm on the window of the SUV, chatting lazily on the phone, but my eyes stayed on his back. Suddenly, he turned as if sensing something. Our gazes met from afar. Against the setting sun, he ran towards me down the slope. The mountain wind blew the wet black hair on his forehead. As he got closer, I saw his flushed neck and the bead of sweat trembling on his throat. The call was from my father, asking me to attend a banquet. He said if I bowed my head, he would overlook my actions against the bastard daughter. Hilarious. A man so ruthless in his youth now pretending to care about family in his old age. I agreed lazily and hung up. “Young Miss.” He tried to calm his breathing, standing before me. Watching his heaving chest, I realized he ran to me breathlessly like this every evening. Even today, when his body was at its limit. I scolded him lightly: “Why run so fast?” “Afraid you’d get bored waiting.” My hand inserting the key paused. I glanced at him and said coolly: “Get in.” “I came to pick you up. What’s boring about that?” After buckling up, he turned his head, Adam’s apple rolling, finally spitting out the sentence he’d been brewing. “Only took six hours today.” “Mmh.” “Didn’t miss a shot either.” “Mmh.” He didn’t need to report. Someone was already recording the data. Physical fitness, reaction speed—top tier. Back then, Six’s best record was seven hours and three minutes. He broke it in a week. The livestream comments were arguing fiercely— [Impossible! A beastman stronger than the main cast?? Who is this? Doesn’t this clash with our wolf boy’s setting? Someone do something!!] [Why the rush? Forgot this is a reverse harem novel? Stronger beastmen are normal! Why the shock? They’ll all fall for our heroine eventually.] [Exactly. Who wouldn’t like our gentle, cute, praise-giving heroine? Once the little wolf sees the toxic woman’s true colors, he’ll run to our heroine’s arms.] [Aiya, I really wish the heroine was here. The little wolf obviously wants praise!! Working so hard, gathering courage to ask, only to get a cold ‘Mmh’! My heart aches for him!!] I’ve learned to ignore these brain-dead comments. But the last sentence made me pause. Asking for praise? 5 The car entered the city. The sunset glow enveloped the traffic jam on the overpass. I couldn’t help glancing at the person in the passenger seat. Ears seemed to droop a bit, lips pursed. Looking down at the bloodstains on his body, lost in thought. I rehearsed in my mind several times before finally calling him. The boy beastman looked up, thick lashes trembling. Half his body drowning in the sunset, unexpectedly softening his murderous aura. Damn it. Words were on the tip of my tongue but couldn’t come out. I hesitated. “Take a day off tomorrow,” I finally said, gripping the steering wheel. Didn’t praise, but showed concern. Shouldn’t be disappointed, right? But after a brief stun, he told me: “I’m fine. I can continue training.” I turned my head, looking down at his bloodstained calves. No rest? I frowned. The comments answered my confusion— [He thinks he didn’t do well enough today, didn’t meet the master’s expectations. Poor little wolf, heroine come quick! The villain is destroying his confidence!] [Sigh, afraid of being abandoned for not being good enough, so he tries so hard to prove himself. Pity he met a heartless villain. If it were the heroine, she’d be praising him non-stop.] [Upstairs, let’s be rational. The heroine has lots of love to give. But for someone like the villain who was never loved as a child, it’s hard to learn to love others. I think I understand her.] [Defending this toxic woman?? No thanks. Her twisted personality is her problem. What did our little wolf do to deserve this?] The argument in the comments intensified. I ignored it, fixing my gaze on Seven’s face. The sunset’s afterglow fell on half his face, making the blood on his neck look bewitching. The spreading twilight was like splashed ink, dazzling enough to get lost in. My prolonged stare made his fingers curl tight, his heartbeat pounding harder and harder. He couldn’t withstand such scrutiny. Earlobes burned hot, eyes uncontrollably lowering. Just as he tried to turn away in embarrassment to avoid my gaze, I spoke suddenly. “You were great today.” His turning motion froze. I added: “So, you can rest tomorrow. That’s a reward.” The traffic finally started moving. Not everyone is born knowing how to love, but I don’t mind learning a bit. Especially for this little wolf pup I’m raising myself.

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In the second year of being a military courtesan, I got pregnant. Every soldier who had been in my tent fought to claim the baby as his. Jack Stone had only visited me for one night, but he knelt before me and said: “Miss Yang, I’m going to the front lines as a vanguard. My parents only have me left. I need to leave them something to remember me by.” Later, I went to his hometown and met the best parents in the world. 1 Three new women arrived at the camp. The steward told me to help them get cleaned up. Fresh meat for the General to inspect first. Just like us, half a year ago. Back then, there were three of us too: me, Jasmine, and Ivy. Only Jasmine caught the General’s eye. If you catch his eye, you only serve him. If you don’t, you serve the entire camp. These three clearly knew the rules. The prettiest one slipped five copper coins into my hand. “Sister, please don’t mind the small amount. If the General picks me, I promise I’ll give you a gold ingot. Does the General have any preferences?” Everyone here is desperate. Five copper coins were all she had. Her eyes were fixed on me, staring at hope itself. I took out a red sachet from my pocket and hung it on her. I whispered, “The General loves red. This sachet might help you.” She left happily, only to be drugged and sent into the tent. None of the three were chosen. If you’re not chosen, you become a common camp prostitute like me. Before this, we were all decent girls. No one wanted this life. The first time, we were all drugged. By the time we woke up, it was too late. Some kill themselves. But most decide that a bad life is better than no life. The girl named Autumn didn’t kill herself. She just cried and told me, “Sister Xiang, the gold ingot I promised is gone.” She didn’t know I personally made sure that gold ingot disappeared. The General didn’t like red. He hated it. To him, red was the color of blood. I couldn’t let her be chosen. If she was chosen, Jasmine would end up in these tents. 2 Half a year ago, the three of us were transported to the military camp together. I was plain-looking. The brothels wouldn’t take me. Once you’re registered as a military prostitute, it’s nearly impossible to redeem yourself. Even though I wasn’t pretty, the pay was about the same as a brothel, so my father sold me here. Ivy was a captive from the enemy nation. Female captives are treated the same on both sides. No soldier treated her like a human being. Especially when the war wasn’t going well, she was just a venting bag. Only Jasmine was different. She grew up in a wealthy household, the favorite maid of the old madam. She wore gold and silver and was almost made a concubine to the young master. But that almost didn’t happen. The new mistress kicked her out without dignity, and she was sold here. On the first day we met, she used her last bit of money to trade with the guards for a big piece of meat. She shared it with us and said, “Meeting is fate. Let’s look out for each other. As long as we don’t die, there’s always a future.” Not only did she not die, but on the first night, she became the General’s woman. And now, she’s the one who’s stayed by his side the longest. Normally, women are thrown back into the camp after three months. But it’s been eight months, and Jasmine is still living comfortably in the General’s tent. And she really did help us a lot. After eight months, Ivy was barely hanging on. She was kept alive by the meat and medicine Jasmine sent. I can’t say how I feel about Ivy. Without her country, there would be no military prostitutes. Maybe my father would have just sold me as a kitchen maid to some rich family. But when I met her, she was just a little girl, smaller and thinner than me. I couldn’t harden my heart enough to watch her die. People have their circles. They were my circle in this hellhole. So when Jasmine came to me, begging for help, I did it. I gave that sachet to Autumn. In return, I got a pill. Jasmine went through a lot of trouble to get it. Military prostitutes have to drink a contraceptive soup every ten days. Jasmine said this pill would neutralize it. Pregnancy is forbidden. But if you get pregnant despite the soup, it’s considered God’s will, and you can’t abort it. As long as a soldier claims it, you’re released from the registry to go to his hometown, be his wife, and raise the child. In this line of work, unless your parents are as cruel as mine, or your family committed a major crime, or you’re a captive, it’s hard to find someone to claim you. It’s hard to get out. Even with money, redemption is rare. But rumor has it that three years ago, one woman successfully left because she got pregnant. Jasmine grabbed my hand excitedly. “One of us has to leave this ghost place. I’ll give you all my savings. Go somewhere no one knows you, buy a house and land, raise a chubby baby, and live a normal life for Ivy and me.” 3 Three months later, the military doctor checked my pulse again and again before telling me, “Xiang, congratulations. You’re pregnant.” He said it right there in the medical tent. In an instant, all the wounded soldiers lying there went wild. “A baby? Which bed are you from? Maybe I slept with you. Maybe it’s my seed.” “She looks like Bed Six. I was there last month. Definitely mine.” “Xiang, it’s me, Old Liu! I visit you all the time. Give the kid to me.” No one thought the child was bad luck. That’s the army for you. Here today, gone tomorrow. Maybe missing an arm or a leg, maybe a corpse. Those with kids back home didn’t care. But many soldiers joined up with no family. If they died on the battlefield, having a child with their last name to burn some paper money for them during the holidays was a comfort. The first month I was here, I hated everyone. I wanted to find rat poison and kill them all. But later, people just stopped coming back. Some ended up in a pit on the back hill. Others, no one even knew where their bodies were. Slowly, I went numb. I didn’t know who to hate anymore. The next day, even more men came to find me. The steward set up a separate tent for me. There were at least ten men at the door, bringing vegetables, fish, even a pig’s head. Everyone looked at my belly with greedy eyes. Only a soldier named Jack Stone came empty-handed. He waited until everyone left, then knelt and kowtowed to me. “Miss Yang, I’m going to the front lines as a vanguard. My family only has me left. I need to leave my parents something to remember me by. Please, give this child to me. “I came empty-handed today because I don’t want to waste money. I want to save it all, along with my pension, for you and the child.” I remembered him. He was the only one who got into my bed but didn’t sleep with me. It was two months ago. He was selected for the vanguard battalion. Vanguards are the first line of offense. Old soldiers say if two out of ten survive, it’s a great victory. They get the best food, the strongest wine, and the highest pension if they die. But they fight the battles closest to death. That day, Jack came in drunk, hugging and touching me. In the end, he started crying. “I’m only seventeen. I haven’t married yet. I don’t even know what a woman is like.” My heart softened. I hugged him and comforted him. “Don’t cry. You’ll know tonight.” He looked at me, blushing with embarrassment. “Miss, I’m sorry. I touched you just now because I was too curious. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything else. If I did, my parents would beat me. Go to sleep. I’ll leave once you’re asleep.” His parents raised him well. So well that I never saw him in the brothel camp a second time. 4 I didn’t want a man like that to be the father of my child. I had already decided. My husband had to be a dead man. If he lived and returned home after the war, he might not want a child of unknown origin and a wife like me. A dead soldier was the safest bet. I give him an heir, he gives me a status and a registry. But Jack Stone died anyway. I didn’t even see his body. An officer laid out a pile of items on a table. He said these belonged to the soldiers who died in this battle and wanted to be the father. I could choose one. “Wu Da-niu, 25, from Guangshan Village, Cen County. Left money and pension totaling 37 taels.” “He Er, 15, from Xiaxi Village, Jiaoshan. Left money and pension totaling 32 taels.” … “Jack Stone, 17, from Peach Plum Village, An County. Left money and pension totaling 22 taels.” He went through the piles one by one, shouting the names of those who would never return, as if it were a common occurrence. I listened for a long time before hearing Jack Stone’s name. The money he left was a bit less. But I still pointed at his pile. “Officer, I’ll choose this one. Stone sounds like an honest name.” Honest indeed. In these eight months, he was the only one who said sorry to me and called me Miss. Being buried with him in the future wouldn’t be a loss. Since we were to be buried together, I needed his ashes. I smiled and asked, “Officer, he’s my man now. I want to take his ashes back so my in-laws have something to remember him by.” The officer’s calm eyes finally showed a flicker of emotion. “You have some conscience. The bodies are piled on the back hill. If you want a separate cremation, find the kitchen crew. One tael of silver. If you’re willing to spend it, go ahead.” One tael was expensive. I wouldn’t spend it to burn my own father. But to burn my child’s father, I was willing. 5 I placed a tael of silver on the kitchen head’s table. He looked at me with curiosity. “Haven’t had business in three months, and the first customer is a woman. You’re the pregnant one from the brothel camp? Picked your ghost husband?” They were army cooks. Cremating bodies was just a side hustle for extra cash. Only brothers who had gone through life and death together would burn a fallen comrade to take his ashes home. There weren’t many customers a year. It was always men before. I was the first woman. On the way there, many people watched me silently. Some even followed to the back hill, helping me find the body without asking for money. While searching, someone started crying. “Lucky bastard. Has a woman bearing his child, willing to pay to take him home. Don’t know if there’ll be enough pieces of me left to be buried in my family grave.” “Bah, what are you crying for? Dead is dead. Have some ambition and hope you walk back in one piece.” “I don’t want to go back if I die. My mom doesn’t like me anyway. Buried on the back hill, at least I have brothers to chat with.” “Boohoo, but I want to go back. My mom is waiting for me to get married.” … The camp after a big battle was like this. Depressing, sad, fearful. Some vented on the training ground, some vented on us. The head cook was used to it. Listening to the crying, he searched skillfully. Soon, he found a bloody corpse. I knew the vanguard troops died horribly, but seeing it with my own eyes taught me what “war is hell” really meant. Jack’s left ear was gone. Most of the bodies lying here were missing left ears. Said to be cut off by the Northern Barbarians as trophies. His left eye was gone too. An arrow had been there; now only a hole remained. There were similar holes in his right chest and calf. But what killed him was probably a blade. A deep slash across his abdomen. The head cook turned the face towards me. “Look closely. Just like the portrait. I didn’t get the wrong man.” I nodded. I used a wet cloth to clean Jack’s face and changed him into clean clothes. Armor was scarce in the camp. It was stripped from the dead. Burning him in his underwear wasn’t dignified. The sobbing behind me grew louder. Someone whispered, “I’ll be nicer to those women in the tents from now on. They have heart.” I spat internally. I had feelings for Jack because he didn’t touch me. Anyone else, I’d take the money and run. Soldiers have it bad, but aren’t we pitiful too?

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For a mandatory company retreat, I took the day off to be with my husband for his surgery. When I came back, my manager fined me five thousand dollars in front of the entire office. “Company policy is crystal clear: group morale takes precedence over everything!” she declared. “Kate, as a department head, you led the charge in defying company rules. Your penalty is doubled!” The next day, I saw her new assistant, a fresh college grad, sporting a brand-new five-thousand-dollar watch. And just like that, it all clicked. So that’s how we’re playing it. Fine. I’m done. 1 The news that I’d been fined five thousand dollars for skipping the company retreat spread through the office like wildfire. In the breakroom, my old rival, Jenna, gave me a look dripping with pity. “Honestly, Kate, you should’ve just played along. You have to request time off in advance, you know.” “I submitted the request a week ago,” I countered, pouring myself a coffee. “She sat on it. She never intended to approve it.” Jenna looked shocked. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Her niece just got back from overseas, graduated from some fancy university. Rumor is, she’s looking to ‘get some experience’ here.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn’t about “making an example” of me. It was about creating an excuse to push me out and bring in her own family. I got the message. I’d move aside for her. But when I got back to my desk, her new assistant, a young man named Sam, was waiting for me. He tapped on my desk with a smug look. “Kate, you’re moving. Out to the main floor.” I glanced at the open-plan workspace. The design department was all cubicles. As the department head, I had a private office—essential for confidential client meetings. Being forced to move out there wasn’t just a relocation; it was a demotion. “Sam, you can’t just move me without a formal notice,” I said, keeping my voice even. “A notice? Sure, here’s your notice,” he sneered. “You’re demoted. You’re a junior designer now. Got it?” As if on cue, my manager, Diana, stepped out of her office. Seeing me still in mine, she frowned. “What’s going on? Kate, why haven’t you moved yet?” “Sam here tells me I’ve been demoted,” I said calmly. “All because I missed the retreat?” “That’s right,” Diana confirmed, her voice sharp. “I’ve already informed the CEO. You’ve shown a complete lack of team spirit, actively working against company culture. We’re putting you on probation.” “If you don’t like it,” she added with a smirk, “you can file a complaint.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine. Then I’ll require a formal, written notice of this change. Otherwise, I’m not moving.” Diana pointed a trembling finger at me. “You just wait, Kate! Sam, get that notice out to her now!” “She wants to play hardball? We won’t indulge her.” Less than two minutes later, Sam posted a formal document in the company-wide group chat, officially demoting me. I saved a copy and began packing my things. Immediately after, Sam added a new member to the chat. “Everyone, please welcome our new Head of Design, a top graduate from an Ivy League school. She’ll be leading the department from today. Let’s give her a warm welcome!” My team looked at me, confused. I said nothing, just pulled out my phone and started a game. A few people slowly posted celebratory emojis in the chat, welcoming the newcomer. The message was clear. I had been replaced. My team was furious on my behalf. “Kate, they can’t just kick you out like that! It’s not right,” one of my designers whispered. “Yeah, and we just submitted the new design proposal. What are we supposed to tell the client when they ask for you?” another added. I shrugged. “The company has its reasons. We just follow orders.” My calm response left them baffled. But I knew what was happening. They were using my work, my success, to prop up their new hire. But they had made one critical mistake. They had acted too soon. Half an hour later, Diana’s niece, a young woman named Chloe, arrived. New boss, new rules. And her first order of business was to target me. “This department has thirty designers,” she announced, her voice full of unearned authority. “Some of you are not pulling your weight, just collecting a paycheck. That ends today.” “From now on, each designer will submit one new design every day. If you can’t finish, you work overtime. If you can’t handle it, the door is open.” Then, she pointed at me. “You! Kate, right? I’ve heard about you. I don’t care what you’ve achieved in the past. From now on, you follow the rules. Understood?” She looked at me, her face a mask of arrogance. I nodded, my voice flat. “Understood.” 2 My compliance only seemed to fuel Chloe’s ego. She added two more rules: a strict attendance policy and a mandatory client feedback log. The team groaned in protest. Client meetings often ran late, or were in different cities, making it impossible to clock in and out on time. But Diana quickly shut them down. “Rules are rules,” she snapped. “We just had to fine someone five thousand dollars. Have you all forgotten already?” “Let me be clear,” she continued, “we brought Chloe in to whip this department into shape!” The room fell silent. I didn’t say a word. Clock in? Fine. Submit a design every day? No problem. I wasn’t worried. In a week, maybe even five days, they would regret this. That day, Chloe settled into my old office, barking orders. I, on the other hand, worked calmly. I used an AI generator to create a design, submitted it, clocked out, and left on the dot. Jenna caught me on my way out. “The workaholic is leaving on time? What’s going on?” “Just following the new company policy,” I said with a wave. Jenna had always been after my job. Now, not only was she not promoted, but she was stuck with a new, overbearing boss. Seeing me leave, she shut down her computer and left too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d left work at a reasonable hour. It was always endless revisions, late-night client calls, only to end up using the first draft after all. This was a new, and not unwelcome, feeling. On my way home, I picked up groceries. My husband was surprised to see me home so early. When I told him I’d been demoted, he was worried. “Is it because of me?” “It has nothing to do with you,” I reassured him. “Honestly, the company needed a shake-up. Why should the Gen Z kids have all the fun?” He seemed relieved. That evening, for the first time in ages, I relaxed. I set up the projector and watched a movie, even posted about it online. Jenna commented: “Look at you, living the life!” I replied with a smiley face. A moment later, the company group chat blew up. Diana was subtweeting me. “Some people just know how to relax. I wonder if their work is done. I wonder if they’re earning enough to afford such a lifestyle!” I laughed at her petty jab and tagged her in the chat. “Diana, it’s important to have a work-life balance. I’m all for enjoying life when I can, but I’ve never slacked off on my work.” Then, I posted all my recent project reports and proposals in the chat. The senior executives were in that group too. I had nothing to hide. A second later, Diana sent me a private message, demanding I delete the posts. I ignored her and muted the chat. The next morning, I was summoned to her office. “Let’s cut to the chase, Kate,” she said. “You need to hand over your projects. And pay the fine.” “The handover is no problem,” I replied. “But I don’t have the money for the fine. You can deduct it from my salary.” “My husband’s surgery was expensive. I’m broke.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play games with me, Kate.” “I’m not. I requested the time off a week in advance. I told you three months ago that my husband was having surgery and that money was tight. That’s why I took on those extra high-profile clients, which you approved.” “I desperately need the money,” I continued. “I don’t have five thousand dollars to spare right now. But my commission and bonus this month should cover it. Just take it from there.” 3 Her brow furrowed. I just looked at her, my expression unreadable. “I don’t have the money. It’s up to you.” I turned and walked out. She followed me, her face livid. “Kate, don’t think you can get away with this just because you’ve been here a while!” The whole office was staring. I turned back to her. “I’m not trying to get away with anything, Diana. I’m following company policy. Go ahead and deduct it.” She thought I was bluffing. She immediately had finance alter my paycheck, deducting the entire five thousand from my commission, leaving me with only my base salary. I remained unfazed. I came to work on time, left on time, and submitted my AI-generated designs every day. They couldn’t find a single thing to fault me for. Until Mr. Harrison from Apex Corp came in. I had handled the initial design phase for their project. Now that the project was handed over, Chloe was in charge. Apex was our biggest client. We’d worked with them for three years without a single issue. This new project alone was worth ten million dollars. That morning, Diana and Chloe were a bundle of nerves, waiting by the entrance. I strolled in right on time, earning a glare from Diana. I just slipped into the breakroom for breakfast. When Mr. Harrison arrived, he was ushered into the conference room with great fanfare. That’s when Sam came over to my desk. “Kate, take these blueprints to the new development in Green Valley.” Green Valley was on the west side of the city. We were on the east. A four-hour round trip. “Isn’t there a digital copy?” I asked. “The client wants a hard copy. Now go, don’t waste time.” Fine. I’ll go. The moment I arrived in Green Valley, Diana called. “Kate, where are you? Get back here now!” “Diana, Sam sent me to deliver blueprints. I just got here. What’s up?” “Send me the design concept and creative brief for the Apex project!” I smiled. “It’s all in the handover files. Sorry, have to meet the client now!” I hung up. A moment later, Chloe called. “Kate, stop playing games. Those are company files, you can’t take them with you! If this project falls through, you’ll be held responsible!” I didn’t even bother to answer. I just blocked her number. Jenna messaged me. Apparently, Mr. Harrison had noticed right away that I wasn’t in the meeting. He asked Chloe a few simple questions about the project, and she couldn’t answer any of them. He was not pleased. Finally, he asked about the patent for the smart home technology integrated into the design. Diana and Chloe had no idea what he was talking about. Now, he was demanding to see the patent certificate, and they were scrambling. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Jenna typed. “You set them up!” “No wonder you’ve been so relaxed these past few days! You were waiting for this!” Without that patent, the design was useless. A ten-million-dollar project, down the drain. And when the higher-ups found out, Diana and Chloe would be in deep trouble. I could hear Jenna’s gleeful laughter through the phone. Then, Chloe’s voice. “Is that Kate? Give me the phone!” “Kate, get back here now! What’s this about a patent?” “Sorry, Chloe, I can’t help you. That project isn’t my responsibility anymore.” “You’ll have to find someone else.” She was getting desperate. “Kate, I know you’re upset. Just come back, and we can talk about this.” Diana’s voice came on the line. “Just come back, Kate. At least help us get through this meeting.” I refused. “I can’t do that. This is Chloe’s first big client meeting. I wouldn’t want to overstep.” I could hear her screaming on the other end. “Don’t get cocky, Kate! We don’t need you!” I laughed. “Let me be honest with you. Give me three hours, and I’ll have you on your knees, begging me. Want to bet?” 4 I hung up, put my phone on silent, and after delivering the blueprints, I spent the rest of the morning chatting with the client in Green Valley. He invited me to take a walk on the nearby mountain trails. The signal was spotty up there, but I couldn’t refuse a client. Back at the office, things had descended into chaos. Mr. Harrison had canceled the contract and returned the designs. Without the patent, they were worthless. He was furious that they knew nothing about the project’s core concept, a concept I had yet to fully reveal. I had planned to present the final, perfected version to him in person. But of course, they had pushed me out. Not only did they not have the patent, but they couldn’t even execute the design. Mr. Harrison was livid. “If you can’t produce the patent, we’re done,” he had declared. “There are plenty of other design firms in this country.” He had walked out, ignoring Diana’s desperate pleas. With me still gone, Diana had turned on Chloe. “You’re from an Ivy League school, right? Call your fancy friends, figure this patent thing out!” “Kate is a nobody, and she impressed him. You should be able to do better.” Chloe, spurred on, started making frantic calls. Jenna just watched, a smirk on her face. Diana noticed. “What are you smiling at? Go find a solution!” Jenna threw her hands up. “I can’t help you. That was all Kate. If I had her connections, I’d be the one in charge.” The comment hit its mark. Diana flew into a rage, throwing things around her office. When a colleague relayed the story to me later, I just laughed. It wasn’t my problem. They had brought this on themselves. A company retreat wasn’t a big deal. But they had made it one. Besides, who wants to spend their free time on forced fun? Not me. Even if my husband hadn’t been sick, I wouldn’t have gone. As for the patent, it was for a smart home system I had developed myself. It was a personal project, something I’d worked on for three years. Mr. Harrison had loved the idea. And now, they had cut me out of my own creation. The client in Green Valley and I had a wonderful afternoon. We picked wild mushrooms and ate a delicious free-range chicken stew. I told him about my situation at work. He just smiled. “Don’t worry, Kate. You’re destined for bigger things. You won’t be unemployed for long.” “In fact,” he continued, “I’m planning to develop this mountain into a resort. The scenery, the ecosystem… it’s perfect. I’ll need a good designer to plan it out.” I accepted on the spot. 5 If the resort was built, it would be the perfect place to bring my husband to relax and breathe the fresh air. After reaching a preliminary agreement with the client, I drove back to the city. I didn’t go to the office. Instead, I went to the hospital, got a doctor’s note, and submitted a request for sick leave through the company’s online portal. Diana was furious. She called me immediately. “Kate, you’re doing this on purpose! The whole company is scrambling, and you’re taking sick leave?” “Don’t push your luck!” I laughed. “Diana, you’re overreacting. I’m not that important. I’m just exhausted. I’ve been taking care of my husband through his surgery, and now I need to rest. I’m not a machine.” “If you don’t approve it, I’m taking the time off anyway. Just mark me as absent.” She hung up, but eventually approved the request. She sent me a text: “Don’t think the company can’t function without you. The world would keep spinning even if you disappeared.”

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During our summer vacation, my little sister sneaked into a beat-up cargo van. I pretended I didn’t see a thing and turned my back. In my past life, I stopped her. And for that, she hated me for decades. On my daughter’s first birthday, she laced her formula with a lethal dose of rat poison. Watching my baby cough up blood, she laughed like a maniac. “Remember this? You caused this!” she screamed. “You ruined my life, so I’m going to make sure you suffer for the rest of yours!” “Why did you stop me from getting in that van?!” I tried to fight her, but she stabbed me until I was paralyzed. I spent years rotting in a hospital bed, a vegetable, until I finally flatlined. When I opened my eyes again, I was back there. The parking lot. The heat. And my sister, sneaking toward the van. 1 I opened my eyes and stared right at Chloe’s back as she nervously looked around. I squinted, a tidal wave of hatred crashing over me. A black panel van rolled up to the curb. She knocked on the door three times—a signal. Two men slid the door open and yanked her inside. In my last life, I thought she was being kidnapped. I screamed, rallied a crowd, and dragged her back from the edge of hell. I was too frantic back then to notice the look on her face. It wasn’t fear. It was annoyance. Chloe hated me for forty years. Not only did she murder my daughter, but she also spent years poisoning my food, wrecking my body before she finally put me in that coma. While I lay paralyzed, she would come to my bedside daily to curse me out. She’d brag about her wealthy husband, her perfect life, her adorable daughter. Every year, she’d bring her kid to celebrate her birthday right in front of my dying body. Five years of torture later, I died of sheer rage. It wasn’t until the bitter end that I realized why Chloe was so desperate to get in that van. It was her “Main Character Ascension Plan.” Since she was a toddler, Chloe believed she was special. The “Chosen One.” She was convinced she didn’t belong in our middle-class family, that she was a lost princess switched at birth. As she grew older and started looking exactly like Dad, she had to accept biology. But she hatched a new plan. If you’re born in the wrong house, you can just switch houses, right? The men in the van were traffickers. Chloe had contacted them herself. She volunteered to be kidnapped. Her only condition? “Sell me to a billionaire’s family.” The traffickers, obviously, said yes. Today was the execution day. In her twisted mind, I destroyed her destiny. I blocked her path to becoming a heiress. Watching the taillights of the van fade into the distance, I smirked and melted back into the crowd of tourists. This time, sister dear, go chase the life you think you deserve. I can’t wait to see where they actually take you. 2 Ten minutes later, Chloe still hadn’t come back from the “bathroom.” Mom and Dad started getting antsy. They checked the restrooms. Empty. Their faces went pale. Twenty minutes later, we’d scoured the entire tourist trap. No Chloe. Mom nearly fainted. Dad called the cops. Thirty years ago, security cameras were trash. They only saw Chloe walk toward the bathrooms and never come out. Only I knew she’d climbed out the bathroom window, circled back to the blind spot by the service exit, and hopped into the van. We searched until sunset. Nothing. Mom passed out twice. Dad chain-smoked a whole pack, his hands shaking. “It’s my fault! Why didn’t I watch her?!” Dad sobbed, face buried in his hands. “Summer, Daddy lost your sister.” We stayed in that town for half a month. My parents were eating themselves alive with guilt. They both ended up hospitalized from stress. I watched them wither away and broke into a cold sweat. This wasn’t part of the plan. I couldn’t let that monster ruin us from afar. That night, I walked up to my parents’ hospital beds, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, Dad…” I choked out. Mom pulled me into a hug, wiping my tears. “Baby, do you miss Chloe? Are you blaming Mommy for losing her?” I shook my head violently and buried my face in her chest. “I lost my sister. I can’t lose you guys too.” “I’m so scared. Please don’t leave me alone. Mom, Dad, you have to get better!” It was like a bucket of ice water hit them. They realized they didn’t just have Chloe. They still had me, their eight-year-old daughter who needed them. The next day, they pulled themselves together. Three days later, we went home. They stopped blaming themselves in front of me. To make up for the loss, they poured double the love into me. Dad threw himself into his work to distract from the pain. He caught the wave of the tech boom. His small factory became a massive corporation. We moved from a cramped apartment to a sprawling estate in the hills. I became the sole heiress of the Joestar family. I was thirteen. Lying in my king-sized bed, I laughed out loud. I wondered what kind of “billionaire life” Chloe was living. If she knew we were filthy rich now, what kind of face would she make? The family she tried to escape was the very “wealthy dynasty” she dreamed of. In the last life, because she came back, my parents stayed middle-class workers. We lived ordinary lives. I smoothed the silk of my designer dress. Turns out, Chloe was the curse on this family. Without her, we soared. Because of how weak I was in my last life, I started training. Kickboxing, swimming, Pilates. I studied nutrition and medicine. I also hit the books hard. My parents, seeing me work so hard, were heartbroken. “Summer, we have enough money. You don’t need to push yourself. We just want you happy.” I flashed a sharp, toothy grin. “Mom, I am happy.” 3 Dad never stopped looking for Chloe, even while building his empire. He spent a fortune on missing person ads and offered a massive bounty. $5,000 for a lead. $2 million for finding her. Scammers lined up around the block. Dad didn’t care. He was practically giving money away, earning the nickname “The ATM.” Two years passed. Nothing. Mom was getting frustrated. “It’s all fake! Just people trying to swindle us!” Just as they were about to give up, a bald man showed up. I recognized him instantly. He was the driver of the van. Ten years hadn’t changed his sketchy, rat-like face. He licked his lips. “Mr. Joestar, I think I know where your girl is.” Dad waved him on. He’d heard it all before. “I saw a girl looking like her in B-City. But she was taken so young, I ain’t sure.” “I can go check. If I find her, I’ll let you know. But about the cash…” Dad sighed, barely listening. “Like I said. You find her, you get the two million.” Baldy rubbed his hands together, took the five grand “finder’s fee,” and left. My parents didn’t have much hope. B-City was 2,000 miles away. But I knew. Baldy wasn’t lying. He knew exactly where she was because he sold her there. But did he think he was getting that two million? In his dreams. I hired a private investigator immediately. “Find a girl named Chloe in B-City. You have one week.” Three days later, I got the photos. I laughed until my sides hurt. Oh, Chloe. Is this the high life you sold your soul for? 4 In the photos, Chloe was scrubbing toilets in a greasy diner, wearing rags. In another, she was sitting at a dinner table, eating watery porridge while a little boy across from her devoured a whole roast chicken. The PI told me the details: The couple who bought her couldn’t conceive. They wanted a son but couldn’t afford one, so they bought a girl cheap. Two years later, they miraculously had a biological son. Chloe became the live-in maid. She dropped out of school years ago. The “parents”—the Millers—forced her to work. Then the PI hesitated. “Miss Summer, there’s… something else.” “Spit it out.” “The second daughter… she has a boyfriend.” A boyfriend? Normal for an 18-year-old. But then I saw the photo. It was a wrinkly, toothless man in his sixties. The PI explained they often hooked up in the back of the diner after hours. The old guy, Gary, had a bit of money and bought her things. I paid the PI double to keep his mouth shut. Baldy was already on his way to B-City. The reunion was inevitable. That night, I put in eye drops to make my eyes red and puffy. Mom saw me and panicked. “Summer! Baby, who hurt you?” I bit my lip and slid the photos across the marble table. “Mom, Dad… I found her. I found Chloe. She’s… she’s suffering so much.” I withheld the photos of her and Old Man Gary. My parents took one look at Chloe scrubbing toilets and broke down. Mom wailed. “It’s our fault! We failed her!” They decided to drive to B-City immediately. As I stood up, I “accidentally” knocked the photo of Chloe and Gary onto the floor. “Oh no!” I scrambled to grab it, making sure they saw it clearly. “Mom, Dad, wait—Chloe must have a reason! Life is hard, maybe she had no choice!” My dad’s face turned purple. In the photo, Chloe was hanging off the old man, laughing with genuine delight. Mom pursed her lips. I hid the photo behind my back. “Don’t judge her! Maybe… maybe he’s a nice grandpa figure?” Dad slammed his chopsticks down. “We leave at dawn!” The guilt was still there, but now, it was mixed with shame. I went back to my room and smirked at the photo. Showtime.

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I am Hollywood’s newest “It Girl,” Lily Hart. I’ve been secretly married to Gavin Sterling, a tech mogul and Silicon Valley’s golden boy, for a year now. I thought we were pulling off the perfect double life. Until that one night. Gavin was on a late-night conference call. I had no idea. Sleepy and clingy, I draped myself over his back, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Hubby, I’m so tired. Carry me to the bathroom, please?” The next morning, the entire internet knew. 1 I woke up to thirty-four missed calls from my manager, Lisa. And a notification feed that was absolutely blowing up. Top trending topics on Twitter: #LilyHartSecretHusband #LilyHartGiantBaby #LilyHartExposed #GavinSterlingSimp #GavinSterlingDownBad There were screenshots everywhere. They were leaked from Gavin’s internal company Slack channel. Apparently, someone recorded the Zoom meeting. Employee A: “Wait, if I’m not hallucinating, was that Lily Hart’s voice? Is she… with the CEO?” Employee B: “Yooo, are they dating? That’s wild.” Employee C: “Omg, Lily sounds so soft and clingy irl. I’m dead.” And then, the CEO himself chimed in. Gavin: “Apologies, everyone. That was my wife.” … Idiot! He just confessed! I scrolled down. The chat went silent for five minutes before someone spammed a copypasta: “Bro, maybe delete that? I personally don’t care, but my friend is sweating right now. He’s physically ill. Not me, obviously, I’m good. But for the sake of my friend who is absolutely losing it over this info, maybe retract that statement?” 2 Reading this, I was half-furious, half-amused. I turned over and punched the culprit in the arm. Gavin grabbed my hand, pulling it to his lips. “Babe, don’t be mad. People are saying we’re a power couple.” I glared at him. “Where? The trending tab is literally roasting me for being a toddler.” He pulled out his phone, opened Twitter, and scrolled past the hate to the bottom of the list. #LilyAndGavin It was full of shippers screaming about how cute we were. Okay. It wasn’t a total disaster. To distract myself, I went into the trenches—the stan Twitter replies. A thread popped up: “Lily Hart x Gavin Sterling Fanfic [NSFW]” Excuse me? The internet moves terrifyingly fast. I blushed, but curiosity killed the cat. I checked the comments. User1: “Author, dropping just the title is criminal. Where is the link?” User2: “Please, I need to know if the tech bro has a soft spot. I need this trope injected into my veins.” User3: “SISTER, PLEASE. I am on my knees in a Walmart. I am shaking. I need the smut. Just one chapter. I promise I’ll go to church on Sunday, just give me the content.” User4: “So… did he carry her or what?” I closed the app immediately. My face was burning. But Gavin caught me. He leaned over, his voice low and teasing. “So, Lily… do you like reading that stuff?” I felt the heat spread from my neck to my ears. I stayed silent. Gavin chuckled, a dark, rich sound. “Maybe I should take some notes.” …Pervert! 3 My follower count was actually going up. Thank God I’m an actress. If I were a pop idol, I’d be cancelled by now. But, naturally, there’s always that one “Pick Me” girl. Vanessa Vaughn, my rival in the industry, tweeted five minutes ago: “Imagine being a grown woman in 2024 and needing to be carried to the toilet. Some of us are actually independent. Yikes.” Her fans swarmed the replies. “Queen! You work so hard for everything you have.” “Vanessa is the real deal. No sugar daddy needed.” “That lead role in Scorsese’s new film should be yours, not Miss Baby’s.” But the internet is chaotic, and some people defended me. “It’s called intimacy between a married couple? Are you the Fun Police?” “Vanessa sounds jealous lol.” I was about to close the app when a new reply rocketed to the top. Gavin Sterling [Verified]: “Why? Does nobody want to carry you?” HOLY. I looked at the man sitting next to me, calmly drinking coffee. “Dude,” I gasped. “You have no filter.” Gavin patted my head. “You’re a star. You have to be polite. I’m just a tech guy. My reputation doesn’t matter as much as my code.” Damn. He suddenly looked 10% hotter. Vanessa deleted her tweet. Life went back to normal for a bit. The weekend rolled around, and Gavin had a business trip to Napa Valley. I had a gap in my schedule, so I tagged along. We stayed at a private resort with a hot spring. At 4:00 AM, a paparazzi dropped a bombshell photo. In the misty steam, a woman was clinging to Gavin. She had long, straight, jet-black hair cascading down a pale back. The internet exploded again. “Wait, Lily has curly hair. Who is that?” “Did Gavin cheat already?” “He brought his wife to the hotel and then snuck a mistress into the hot spring? The audacity!” I saw the headlines and lost it. Tears welled up. I threw my phone at Gavin. “Explain this! Now!” He didn’t even look up from his laptop. “Think what you want. I’m tired.” The audacity! “Men are trash!” I screamed. “If we’re done, let’s just break up! I’m not doing this!” He gritted his teeth. “Fine. Whoever wants to break up is a dog.” One second later: “Woof. Woof woof.” The room was filled with the sound of a very wealthy puppy. 4 I stared at him. He reached out, hooking his pinky around mine. “Babe, how was my acting? I’m practicing to be the toxic ex for your next script.” I was still fuming, but the anger was deflating fast. “Terrible,” I sniffed. “Stick to coding.” He pulled me into his lap, nuzzling my neck like a Golden Retriever. “Okay, but we need to fix this.” He knew exactly what happened. My hair is naturally straight; I got a perm for my last role. The hot spring water and humidity just flattened it out. “I’ll take a photo of you now,” he said. “Same angle. Post it.” I sat on the balcony chair, looking away, letting my now-straight hair flow down my back. Gavin snapped the pic. He’s actually getting good at photography. I posted it to Instagram immediately. Caption: “Mr. Sterling is getting better at his camera angles.” The comments flooded in instantly. “Ohhh, her hair just went straight in the water! Rumors killed.” “Okay, looking at the back muscles… I approve of this brother-in-law.” “Lily is so gorgeous, let me give you a kiss!” That third comment… Gavin saw it. Gavin Sterling: “Sorry. Only I get to do that.” I snatched his phone away. “Stop it! Those are my fans! Stop fighting them in the comments, you jealous weirdo!” Just then, my phone rang. It was Lisa. 5 I braced myself for a scolding. “Hey, Lisa…” But she sounded… happy? “Lily! Listen, the engagement metrics on you and Gavin are insane. People love the ‘Simp CEO and the Star’ dynamic. A major brand wants you guys for a livestream shopping event tonight. The pay is seven figures.” Me: “Huh?” Lisa: “Just show up, look pretty, sell some stuff. Bring the husband.” I’m not stupid. I never say no to a bag. I hung up and looked at Gavin. “Babe, you’re not allowed to be jealous tonight. We have products to sell.” I smirked. “Fans like the jealous act, though. So… keep it up.” We got the briefing: “Livestream E-commerce 101.” I skimmed it. Easy. Gavin read it like he was studying for the Bar Exam. “You spend half my annual bonus on livestreams,” he noted dryly. “You should be a pro at this.” I chose to ignore that. The livestream started. I was in my element. “3, 2, 1, link is in the bio! Grab it before it’s gone, besties! Type ‘1’ in the chat if you need this serum!” Gavin sat next to me, stiff as a board. My fans noticed immediately. “Why is the CEO so quiet?” “Is he being held hostage?” “Lily is carrying this stream. Gavin is just eye candy.” Gavin cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m not being held hostage. I’m just… observing. If this was a lecture on Neural Networks, I wouldn’t shut up.” I covered his mouth. “Shhh. Look pretty.” The stream was ending, and sales were through the roof. Then, drama struck. Vanessa Vaughn entered the chat. She dropped 10 “Universe” gifts—worth about $5,000. Vanessa Vaughn: “Is Lily’s acting career failing? Why is she an influencer now?” Vanessa Vaughn: “No sugar daddy to buy you gifts? Sad.” So she spent 5k just to insult me? A philanthropist, honestly.

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On the first day of freshman year, news broke that I’d won a million dollars in a national gaming tournament. Suddenly, a girl I barely knew—Vanessa, the so-called “campus beauty” who played the poverty card like a pro—rushed the stage and fell to her knees, begging me to pay her mother’s medical bills. “This money might be nothing to you, but to me, it’s my mother’s life!” she sobbed. “I promise, I’ll pay you back in the future!” The crowd went wild. Everyone started chanting for me to be a hero, saying getting the campus beauty’s favor for a million bucks was a steal. I almost caved. My finger hovered over the transfer button. But then, rows of glowing text—like bullet comments on a livestream—floated across my vision: [Here it comes. After the moral kidnapping succeeds, the campus beauty and her family treat the MC like a walking blood bag. Can’t shake them off.] [Later, when the MC’s dad falls and needs emergency surgery, she won’t pay him back. Instead, she guilt-trips him, saying he’s forcing her and her mom to die!] [After that, she frames the MC for sexual assault, ruining his life. His dad dies because of it.] My hand shook. I canceled the transfer. I looked down at the teary-eyed beauty looking up at me with expectation. “Sorry,” I said. “I spent it all.” 1 The whole class gasped. Vanessa looked at me, shocked and outraged. “How could you spend it all so fast?” Hilarious. What right did she have to question my finances? I ignored her and walked back to my seat. But Vanessa scrambled up and chased after me. She asked if I was worried she couldn’t pay it back, offering to write an IOU. The floating text returned: [Don’t believe her! She uses disappearing ink for IOUs. When you ask for the money later, it’ll be a blank piece of paper!] [Later, when your dad is dying and you beg her on your knees, this manipulative witch will wave that blank paper around and accuse you of harassment!] [Also, her mom doesn’t have uremia. She’s alive and kicking. She just wants to scam money!] I let out a cold laugh. “Spent means spent. Why are you still asking?” Vanessa collapsed on the floor again, hugging my leg like a koala, sobbing uncontrollably. “I really, really need your help! Otherwise, my mom will die!” “My dad died early. My mom raised me all by herself. Seeing her like this while I can’t do anything… I should just die!” [Not just her, they both deserve it!] [Yeah, in their village, they’re notorious. They beat up disabled people, steal food from the elderly, and smashed someone’s pot when they got caught!] [You’re screwed if you help. Once the moral kidnapping works, they’ll bleed you dry. If you dare say ‘no,’ they’ll spread rumors you’re a creep.] [Everyone will think: why would he give a random classmate a million bucks if he didn’t have ulterior motives?] [Exactly. When she accuses you of assault later, the keyboard warriors will believe her instantly! Don’t give her a dime!] 2 I remained unmoved by Vanessa’s performance. Suddenly, the class president, Tyler, stood up. “Ethan, you’re in the wrong here. We’re all classmates. Why can’t you help? Are you really going to watch her mom die?” [This guy is a massive simp. He likes Vanessa, so of course he’s white-knighting for her!] Tyler’s crush on Vanessa was an open secret. Vanessa shot Tyler a grateful look, then continued her wailing. “You made that money so easily. Use it to do something good. I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life.” “Alright, alright, get up. Ethan isn’t the type to leave someone to die. I’m sure he’ll pay.” Tyler rushed over to help Vanessa up, even dusting off her clothes like a dutiful servant. Then he told her to pull up her Venmo QR code. Vanessa already had it ready. She unlocked her phone, and there it was. [She relies on her looks to cry poor and beg for money everywhere! If you don’t give, she claims you’re looking down on her!] I smirked. A real “princess.” I reached out and locked her phone screen. Tyler frowned instantly. “Ethan, what do you mean?” I shrugged. “Nothing. Why flash a QR code right off the bat? People might think she’s begging on the street.” Tyler got agitated. “She needs you to transfer money to save a life!” “Did I say I was transferring money? You’ve been talking to yourself this whole time. Interesting how eager you are to spend other people’s money.” “I don’t have that much money. I can only help organize. Is that a problem?” I scoffed. “Jeff Bezos has more money. Go organize him.” “You’re so generous. Maybe you can’t drop a million, but 100k or 200k should be easy for you, right? Doing good deeds shouldn’t be about the amount.” “…I don’t have 200k either! I’m a poor student!” “Borrow it. Take out a loan. Rob a bank. That’s how you show true love for Vanessa! It’s 2024, you think you can get the girl with just talk?” Tyler’s face turned the color of a pig’s liver. [Nice! Throw that hot potato right back at him!] [He likes Vanessa so much? Let him take out a loan!] Vanessa looked at Tyler with hopeful, teary eyes. “There’s strength in numbers… actually, my mom’s medical fees… a million might not be enough… President Tyler, maybe you could…” Tyler froze. He avoided Vanessa’s gaze. Maybe out of panic, or to deflect, he turned back to me and yelled: “I am the Class President! I order you to transfer the money to her right now!” The whole class stared, jaws dropped. Class President? What a massive power trip! One sentence, and he expects me to cough up a million? Even scammers put in more effort than this. Hearing the snickers around him, Tyler got even more agitated. “So what if I’m the Class President? I’m telling you to do a good deed! What’s wrong with that?” I laughed in his face. “A few days ago, there was a donation drive for alumni. Who donated five bucks and bragged about it like a saint? Oh right, you.” “And who do you think you are to order me around? Bossing me about my money? You worthy?” Students covered their mouths, giggling. Tyler’s face got redder. “You just have no heart!” “Yep, you’re right. I have no heart. You have a heart, so hurry up and donate a few hundred grand to Vanessa.” I shook off Vanessa’s grip on my leg. Pointing at Tyler, I said, “The President is a great guy. Campus loans are easy to get. Go hug his thigh instead!” Vanessa looked at Tyler expectantly. Tyler looked like a startled rat looking for a hole. 3 A few days later, the school organized a charity auction for underprivileged kids. I donated a valuable limited-edition figure without hesitation. It drew a lot of attention. A sophomore bought it for $3,000. I stuffed the cash into the donation box. But the moment the auction ended, Vanessa rushed up and hugged the donation box. Teachers ran over, asking what she was doing. Vanessa started weeping. “I’m the one who needs help the most! My mom has uremia and needs money to live!” “I tried begging my classmate Ethan, but he won’t help. Begging is useless. I have to do this.” “I can testify!” Tyler popped up like a whack-a-mole. “Ethan won a million in a gaming tournament. But seeing his classmate’s mother dying, he ignored her and lied about spending the money! I’m ashamed to be his classmate!” Everyone looked at me. No way was I taking this rap. I confronted Tyler immediately. “Who made the rule that I have to help a classmate in trouble? Do you know how much a million dollars is? She’s not my mom. Why should I help?” People nodded. Helping is voluntary, and it should be within one’s means. What kind of idiot drops a million to save a “classmate’s” mom? While Tyler stuttered, I continued. “Kindness isn’t just lip service. If you’re so charitable, why did you auction off a broken water bottle today? Then you turn around and demand I donate a million. Tyler, don’t be such a hypocrite.” “A million is nothing to you!” Tyler argued weakly. I looked at him with disdain. “Whether it’s nothing or everything is none of your business. Can you stop being generous with my money to chase girls? Using such dirty tactics, sacrificing others to make yourself look good—it’s disgusting.” The teachers and students got it. Their looks turned judgmental. While Tyler stood there embarrassed, Vanessa tried to run off with the donation box. Luckily, teachers and students stopped her. Vanessa wailed loudly. “A person in need is standing right here! Are you all as heartless as Ethan? Is your charity just for show?” “Vanessa, watch your mouth. Stop dragging my name into this!” I warned her, pointing a finger. Vanessa claimed I was threatening her and sat on the ground, throwing a tantrum. [She wants to blow this up. She’s an expert at playing the victim and using public opinion to pressure people!] [Watch out for Tyler. In your past life, he’s the one who edited the videos to frame you for assault!] I sneered internally. Fine. Two can play at that game. I crouched down and asked Vanessa. “Your mom really has uremia? Can you prove it?” Vanessa’s eyes darted around. She couldn’t look me in the eye. Tyler chimed in. “Who would curse their own family with something like that? Would you, Ethan?” I was sick of him. I glared sideways. Tyler instinctively stepped back but kept running his mouth. “If he doesn’t believe it, Vanessa, bring the medical diagnosis tomorrow. Let’s see if he pays up then!” Vanessa was silent for a moment, then nodded vigorously, promising to bring the papers. [Don’t believe her. It’s fake! She’s going to forge it!] Forged? Even better. 4 The next day, when Vanessa handed me the diagnosis, Tyler filmed the whole thing. He provided commentary, saying I didn’t believe a classmate’s tragedy, and that I promised to donate my million if the papers were real. I grabbed him, snatched his phone, and smashed it on the floor. Tyler was stunned. I grabbed his collar, fist tight. “You are so damn annoying. Stay away from me. Do you hear me?” “You broke my phone!” “I’ll buy you a new one. Scram!” I shoved him away. He frantically pulled out his SIM card and ran. I turned back and snatched the diagnosis from Vanessa. I looked closely. Pretty good forgery. I started to walk away with it. Vanessa blocked me. “Why aren’t you giving me the money? What are you doing with the papers?” Guilty conscience. I didn’t say a word, just tried to leave. Suddenly, Vanessa reached out to snatch the papers back, screaming that I was breaking my promise, and ripped them in half. I sneered. “Doing that… proves these are fake, doesn’t it?” “N-No!” “Then why are you so agitated?” “I’m afraid you’ll use them for something bad! If you won’t help, fine, but don’t spread my business around to laugh at me!” [She’s going to use public opinion to pressure you! Careful!] [That bastard Tyler didn’t go far. He’s recording with a burner phone!] I turned around. Tyler sprinted away. That night, a post appeared on the school forum.

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I was the designated “simp” for Finn Sterling, the school’s golden bad boy. Everyone thought I loved him more than life itself. He skipped class to fight? I copied his notes. He flirted with other girls? I covered for him. I spent three years acting like a total doormat, dragging his sorry ass across the finish line to get him into an Ivy League university. But right before freshman orientation, he dumped me. He looked down at me with that arrogant smirk, “Gwen, I know you’ve been obsessed with me for years. But your brain is just… textbooks. Compared to Hannah, you’re too stiff. Too boring. We’re done. I’m going to be with Hannah.” The crowd held its breath, waiting for my breakdown. I glanced at my bank app. The pending balance of $5 million had just cleared. I smiled sincerely. “Okay. Congratulations.” Nobody knew that my unconditional devotion was purely because his mother paid me an obscene amount of money. Now that the check had cleared, it was time for me to vanish. 1 “The School King just dumped her, and she said congratulations?” “She hung up in less than a minute. She’s definitely losing it. Probably having a mental breakdown right now.” “I don’t know, man. She looked calm. Like she’s been waiting for this.” Someone glanced nervously at Finn. He had his arm around his new girl, but his handsome face was dark, clearly annoyed that I hadn’t begged. The gossip quickly shifted. “No way. Gwen has been obsessed with Finn for years. She’s probably just holding it in. Give it three days, she’ll be crawling back begging him not to leave her.” Finn’s expression softened slightly at that. “If she comes back and begs, I might consider forgiving her. Depends on her attitude.” I didn’t hear any of this. I was already dragging my suitcase to the airport. If I had heard them, I would have laughed. If my parents hadn’t been convinced that “school is useless for girls” and tried to sell me off for a dowry while I was still a teenager… If my alcoholic father hadn’t torn up my acceptance letter and beaten me half to death… If Mrs. Sterling hadn’t found me at my lowest point and offered me a deal—cover my high school tuition and give me $5 million if I got her son into Harvard… I never would have chased after a bully like Finn Sterling. I never would have been his on-call servant. Three years. I used every trick in the book to turn that rebellious slacker into a straight-A student. Now the job was done. I had the money. I was escaping hell. Why would I be sad about him switching girlfriends? I just wanted to survive. Love had nothing to do with it. I didn’t go to the local college I was accepted to. My parents would have hunted me down for the dowry money. To leave, I had to leave completely. Over the summer, I aced the TOEFL and got my French to a B2 level. I was enrolled in a design school in Paris. As I boarded the flight, a text from Finn popped up. “Why are all my calls blocked? Gwen, haven’t you thrown enough of a tantrum? Even if I’m with Hannah, we can still be friends. Stop acting out. Unblock me.” 2 Even in a text, he was condescending. He was so sure I was playing hard to get. He thought I’d come wagging my tail like always. I popped the SIM card out of my phone, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the airport trash can. Along with that card, I threw away the humility, the schemes, and the unbearable past. The plane took off, leaving everything behind. Later, my best friend told me Finn went crazy on my social media. Comments like: “Are you done yet?” “It’s just a breakup, why are you so dramatic?” “Add me back now!” She said, “At first, Finn was sure you were bluffing. When you didn’t show up, he got violent. Mentioning your name made him snap.” It sounded like a story about a stranger. I used Mrs. Sterling’s millions to restart my life in Paris. Top design school. New language. Heavy workload. It was hard, but there was no Finn to please, no suffocating parents to escape. Just sketchpads, fabric, and a future that belonged to me. Years flew by. With talent and sweat, my jewelry designs started making waves at Fashion Week. I won a few international awards. I became the new Chief Designer for Lumina, a rising luxury brand, and was sent back to the States to open up the market. First day back. I was grabbing lunch downstairs at the new HQ when a hesitant voice called out behind me. “Gwen? Is that you?” I turned. It was Ashley, a girl who sat in front of me in high school. Her eyes went wide, scanning me from head to toe. “OMG! It is you! You’ve changed so much!” Gone was the timid, people-pleasing girl in thrift store clothes. Time and money had given me a quiet confidence. “Long time no see.” “This is crazy!” Ashley was hyped. “There’s a class reunion tonight at the Sky Lounge upstairs. Everyone is coming, even Finn! You have to come! No one will recognize you!” Finn Sterling? That name felt like a relic from a past life. I wanted to say no, but then I thought—why hide? I had nothing to be ashamed of. “Sure.” I spent the day handling the handover for the new office. By the time I remembered the reunion, it was late. I didn’t bother changing and went upstairs in my casual clothes. I pushed open the heavy doors, and the noise hit me. 3 My eyes swept the room and landed instantly on the man holding court at the main table. Finn Sterling. He looked older, his features sharper. Wearing a bespoke suit, looking lazy and expensive. He was still the center of the universe. Next to him was a young, flashy girl. Not Hannah. The bad boy had updated his accessories again. A drunk guy spotted me first. “Holy sh*t! Look! Finn! Your simp is back!” The room exploded. Everyone turned to stare. Shock. Amusement. Schaudenfreude. Finn looked up. When he saw me standing there, his pupils dilated. His relaxed smirk froze. It was replaced by shock, and something complicated I couldn’t read. The girl next to him sensed the shift immediately. She tightened her grip on his arm, glaring at me with hostility. “Gwen?” I ignored the whispers. I walked over to the empty seat next to Ashley and poured myself a glass of water. “Gwen, wow, you’re alive,” Tiffany, the class mean girl, spoke up first. Her voice dripped with fake sweetness. “I heard you didn’t go to college? Makes sense, your family couldn’t afford it anyway.” “Where have you been working? People said you married some old guy for money. But looking at your outfit… pretty casual, huh?” She emphasized “old guy,” and a few girls giggled. “I was abroad for a few years. Just got back,” I said calmly. “Oh, abroad!” Chad, the class clown, jumped in with exaggerated sympathy. “It’s tough for returnees these days. Unless you were doing… illegal work over there? Do you have a job now? Need a hookup?” “My uncle’s company needs a clerk. Low requirements, just need to know how to type. The pay sucks, but it’s legit work. Better than whatever you were doing…” 4 He trailed off, implying something dirty. “Yeah, exactly,” Tiffany chimed in. “Foreign guys just like to play around with Asian girls, you know? Gwen, we’re old friends. If you’re struggling, just ask.” “You don’t have a degree, and you look kind of… plain. Interviews might be tough. I can lend you some cash to buy a suit? It’s a shame, you were top of the class once.” Finn remained silent. But his hand gripped his glass tight, his eyes dark, fixed on me. His new girlfriend, Lola, couldn’t take it anymore. She sneered, leaning forward with a look of supreme condescension. “So you’re Gwen? I’ve heard about you.” “I heard you were a total stalker. Chasing my Finn like a desperate puppy.” “Doing his homework, taking notes, covering for him?” “Thanks for your hard work,” she paused, letting the class snicker. “But at least you knew your place. You knew you weren’t in his league and ran away. But it looks like you haven’t done well for yourself?” “Finn is taking over the Sterling Group now. And me? I just took over my family’s fashion brand. I’m busy negotiating a collab with a top international design house. If you’re broke, we can throw you a bone.” I sipped my water. “No thanks.” Lola rolled her eyes. “You probably don’t even know my level. Ever heard of Lumina? It’s the hottest new French jewelry brand.” “Their Chief Designer is a genius in Paris. Very mysterious. I pulled so many strings to get a meeting. If she agrees to a collab… I’ll be famous.” “Once that happens, I can feed you with the crumbs from my table.” The classmates oohed and aahed. “I know Lumina! Their taste is insane!” “That designer is legendary. Lola, you have connections!” “Finn is so lucky to have a power couple partner!” Lola lifted her chin, soaking it in. “What’s the designer’s name?” someone asked. “Her English name is Eileen Gu, but she’s Chinese,” Lola bragged, pretending to know details. “Young, talented, highly respected in France.” “It’s hard for a small brand like ours to get her, but I’m confident.” She leaned onto Finn. “Right, babe?” Finn grunted.

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The day I was discharged from the hospital, my depression finally in remission, I waited at the entrance for hours. It was nearly midnight when the message from Lucas Sterling finally came through. Something urgent came up at the firm. Don’t wait up, just head home. A moment later, I saw the new post on Bethany Reed’s Instagram. It was a photo of Lucas, sleeves rolled up, patiently changing a lightbulb for her. The caption read: For all the hard things in life, I’m so lucky to have you. My breath caught in my throat. I tapped the ‘like’ button and quietly called a cab. When I got home, I was surprised to find Lucas already there, looking like he’d rushed back. He saw me and immediately grabbed my hands, his voice tight with anxiety. “Don’t overthink it, Mia. She’s just an old friend. I was just helping her out.” I nodded, playing the part of the compliant girlfriend he expected. But his brow only furrowed deeper. He hesitated, then asked, “…Mia? What’s wrong?” I just shook my head, my gaze fixed on the ugly, layered scars that covered my wrists. Nothing was wrong. I was just… done loving him. … The room fell silent for a long moment. Finally, Lucas let out a sigh, reining in his temper to coax me. “Mia, please don’t be like this.” “It was nothing. I didn’t do anything with her, I just helped her with something small.” “I already promised you I wouldn’t cross any lines with Bethany again. Don’t fixate on one little thing.” He finished and moved to wrap his arms around me, but I took a silent step back, avoiding his touch. A muscle in his jaw twitched. His patience finally snapped, his voice rising. “What the hell do you want from me?!” I flinched, a sudden fog of tears blurring my vision. He seemed to realize he’d gone too far, a flash of regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to blame you—” “I want to break up.” My voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through his words. “What?” Lucas stared at me, then pressed his fingers to his temples as if fighting off a massive headache. “Can you not do this again? Don’t threaten to break up every time we have a problem.” “It’s always this, Mia. I’m so tired.” “Yes, I know. I cheated on you before. I was with Bethany, and it was wrong, it hurt you. But I’ve changed, haven’t I? Haven’t I been good enough to you these past months?” “Just because I made one mistake, you’re going to torture me like this forever?!” There it was again. I couldn’t look at him. The air in the room felt like it was turning to thick, black water, ready to pull me under. A wave of terror washed over me, and for a horrifying second, I felt the urge to drop to my knees and beg for his forgiveness. But I held my ground, repeating the words. “I want to break up.” Crash! He slammed his water glass onto the floor, and it shattered into a thousand pieces. “Aah!” I screamed, dropping into a crouch and wrapping my arms over my head, trembling uncontrollably. “I’m sorry… please don’t hit me… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Lucas loomed over me, his voice dripping with scorn. “There you go again. Faking it.” “Mia, have I been too good to you lately? Did that make you think you could control me with these pathetic little acts?!” I couldn’t process his words. The rising volume of his voice just sent fresh waves of panic through me, and I scrambled away from him like a cornered animal. The look in his eyes hardened into disappointment. “Fine.” “Calm yourself down. When you’re ready to be rational, we can talk.” I don’t know when he left. By the time the storm in my body subsided, the sun was streaming through the windows. Slowly, I packed a bag and walked out. I passed a few neighbors on my way out. They gave me those familiar, pitying looks, and as I walked away, I could hear their hushed whispers. “What’s going on now? Another tantrum?” “You don’t think they’re actually breaking up, do you? I don’t get it. They fight every single day. Why are they even still together?” “She can’t let go, probably. Who could, in her position?” “That man doesn’t love her. If it were me, I would have walked away a long time ago.” They were right. I should have walked away a long time ago. I paused and looked back at the apartment complex, now small in the distance. I couldn’t stop the hot, heavy tears that finally fell. Ten years of this. I had cried, I had raged, I had lost my mind. I had trampled on every last shred of my dignity until I was nothing more than a joke. Lucas Sterling, I’m finally done loving you. I was eighteen when I got together with Lucas. I had just been accepted into the country’s top art academy, my future a bright, shining path. Then the call came from home. My father was addicted to gambling and had racked up an insurmountable debt. With my back against the wall, I dropped out of school and started working as a cocktail waitress in a high-end club. That’s when Lucas appeared. He was thoughtful, a gentleman, handsome and well-mannered, like a prince from a fairytale. He was so good to me. He paid off my father’s debts and had him transferred to a private hospital after the loan sharks beat him so badly he was paralyzed. He remembered my cycle, brewing me ginger tea whenever I had cramps. When I couldn’t sleep, he would hold me all night, whispering stories until I drifted off. Falling in love with him was inevitable. After we got together, everyone said I wasn’t good enough for him. They’d laugh, their contempt barely veiled. “She’s just some cheap cocktail waitress. Does she really think she’s pulled off a Cinderella story?” “Haha, everyone in this town knows Lucas is just playing with her.” “Just wait until she comes back…” A cold knot would form in my stomach. I never let myself listen to the end. Of course, I knew I didn’t deserve him. Our worlds were galaxies apart. But I loved him, and because of that, I missed my chance to walk away when I should have. From that love, the thorny branches of insecurity began to grow. I never dared to ask him who “she” was. Instead, I’d joke around, asking if he loved me. He would never answer. He would just look at me, his dark eyes seeming to see right through me, to a place I couldn’t follow. My anxiety grew. Eventually, I heard the name: Bethany Reed. She was his first love, the one that got away. They said we looked alike. That I was just her replacement. The realization was like being plunged into ice water. It all made sense. The tender way he looked at me—he wasn’t seeing me at all. He was looking at someone else. I completely lost my temper. I stormed into Sterling Corp and demanded an explanation. But he was patient, pulling me into his arms and hushing me softly. “It’s all just rumors. Why are you so upset?” “Yes, Bethany and I were together, but that was a long time ago, Mia.” “She came back to the country yesterday. If I still loved her, if you were just a substitute, why wouldn’t I just break up with you and be with her?” I believed his lies. For a little while, I even felt a flicker of confidence. But I couldn’t shake my curiosity. One day, I was working a catering gig and learned that the famous concert pianist performing was Bethany Reed. I snuck a look. She was beautiful. Dressed in a flowing white gown, her long, slender fingers danced across the piano keys. The spotlight caught her from the side, making her glow like a princess. The self-loathing was a tidal wave, and it threatened to drown me. I turned and fled, but I didn’t get far before someone grabbed my arm. It was one of the women who was infatuated with Lucas. She looked at me with a sneer. “Well, look who it is.” “Here to cause a scene?” “So you know you’re the stand-in, and now you’re getting desperate? Look at yourself. You really think you’re fit for the Sterling family? How pathetic.” All eyes were on me. Their jeers wove into a net, trapping me. I couldn’t breathe. But then Lucas was there, alerted by the commotion. He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around me, shielding me from their stares, and then he tore into the women who had been taunting me. In the middle of that noisy hall, his voice rang out, clear and strong. “Mia Collins is my girlfriend. You have a problem with her, you have a problem with me.” I drew a universe of security from those words. From that moment on, I pushed every doubt aside and forgot all about being a substitute. We had three wonderful years together. On our wedding day, Bethany sent a tasteful gift with her best wishes. When she spoke to Lucas, she was warm and poised, like any old friend. Watching the elegant profile of her face, I felt a pang of guilt, certain that I had wronged her with my petty insecurities. I went home that night, happy, planning what I could get her as an apology gift. I wanted to discuss it with Lucas. I pushed open our bedroom door and froze. He and Bethany were tangled together, their clothes in disarray. On our wedding bed.

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When my childhood crush told me he was breaking up with me because my family was too poor, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God I was just acting broke, not actually broke. He had no idea my mom made me pretend we were poor because she was afraid he would be intimidated by our wealth. It was exhausting playing poor. Now I finally don’t have to anymore. Chapter 1 Jake Chen was destined to be my future husband. My mom spotted him on the street when he was a kid and immediately declared him the most devastatingly handsome child she’d ever seen—he had to be our son-in-law. To ensure I could snag Jake’s heart early, Our entire family moved from our luxurious penthouse downtown to a rundown apartment next door to his house. Jake and I naturally became childhood sweethearts. After befriending Jake’s family, my mom stopped her regular spa appointments, quit mahjong and golf. She spent her days elbowing Jake’s mom at the supermarket, fighting over discounted eggs and clearance produce. She gave up her socialite life, all for this future son-in-law. I told my dad, My mom was so nuts she’d be canceled by the internet. My dad just quietly pocketed the Rolls-Royce keys. He pulled out the scooter keys and drove me to school. Ugh. My dad is just like me. He has no say in this family. I once asked my mom when I could finally be my true self around Jake. She said adolescence is when self-esteem is most fragile. What if Jake found out how rich we were and got insecure? I don’t know about Jake getting insecure. But I was going crazy. One night, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I marched into their bedroom. I confronted my mom: “Is Jake your secret love child?!” “I don’t care if he is! Just let Dad and me move back downtown!” “We’re willing to accept the secret love child!” The answer was a synchronized beating from both my parents. My butt hurt. Fine. I’ll just suck it up a little longer. Chapter 2 Thankfully, I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The day Jake fell for someone else. After school today, Jake refused to take the public bus with me. “Stella, my family’s old house was demolished. You know that.” “Do you know how much the payout was?” He gestured with his hand. “Thirty million dollars.” “I won’t be taking the public bus anymore.” “You know what that means, right?” Honestly, I didn’t. I replied blankly: “Sure. Let’s take an Uber then!” Jake sighed dramatically. “It’s not about the Uber fare.” “Then what is it about?” Jake’s tone suddenly felt unfamiliar. “My mom said we’re moving out of the old neighborhood in a few days.” “I mean, I’m basically an A8 family now. What about you?” “What about me?” Jake sighed again. “I didn’t want to be blunt. Why are you so slow?” “I believe everyone has the right to pursue better things. You can’t stop me from moving on to someone better, right?” “So, Stella, you get my point?” After all that rambling, I finally understood Jake’s point. His family just got a massive payout. And I, his girlfriend, was no longer good enough for him. He was dumping me. “Fine.” He looked surprised that I agreed so quickly. I got nosy. “Who’s the ‘someone better’?” “Summer Lei.” “I think she’s the most suitable match for me right now.” Oh, the school beauty, gorgeous and from a good family. “Got it.” I pulled out my phone. “I agree to the breakup, but you have to tell my mom yourself.” Jake frowned. “Stella, we’re adults. Why involve our mothers?” My attitude was firm. “She won’t believe me if you don’t tell her.” He sighed again. “Fine.” “Breaking up with poor people is such a pain.” Poor people? Is he talking about me? I dialed the number. My mom was excited when she heard Jake’s voice. “Jake, sweetie, want to come over for dinner tonight?” “Your mom hasn’t answered my calls or texts all week. I wonder what she’s so busy with.” Jake was silent for two seconds, sounding slightly guilty. “Auntie, I called to tell you something.” “I think we need to focus on our studies right now. We shouldn’t be distracted by romance.” “So, Stella and I have decided to break up peacefully.” “What peaceful breakup?!” I screamed into the phone. “Jake, why don’t you tell the truth!” “Mom! His family got rich, and he thinks I’m not good enough!” “He’s dumping me to chase the school beauty!” Jake hung up the phone. “Stella!” This was the first time he had ever yelled at me. “Can’t you be mature about this?” “Why do you have to leave a bad impression on my aunt?” Me: ??? What a jerk. “Whatever. It’s over now.” “I’m officially pursuing Summer starting tomorrow. Please tell the class we’ve broken up.” I watched Jake walk away. I was suddenly glad my mom made me pretend to be poor. How else would I have seen his true colors? But what made me happiest? I finally didn’t have to pretend anymore. And no more riding the public bus. Chapter 3 Today, I splurged and took a private car home. The moment I walked in, my mom interrogated me frantically. “What happened with you and Jake? Did you fight?” I shrugged helplessly. “Can’t you see? His family got rich, and he thinks we’re too poor for him.” My mom was in denial. “No way. Jake’s not like that.” “Do you think… he has a terminal illness and is breaking up with you so he doesn’t drag you down?” I rolled my eyes. “Stop reading romance novels. They’ve ruined your brain.” She insisted. “We’ll spend everything we have to save Jake!” My mom grabbed my arm, dragging me out the door. Jake’s house was right across the hall. After knocking several times, his door finally opened. Jake’s mom looked awkward seeing us. “Oh, you’re home.” “You promised we’d go fight over discounted eggs this afternoon. Why didn’t you answer my messages?” My mom has an incredibly high tolerance for rejection. She didn’t notice that the other party clearly didn’t want anything to do with her. She continued: “Jake called to say he was breaking up with Stella.” “I wanted to know if something was wrong.” Suddenly, Jake’s mom became incredibly snobby. “What could be wrong? Are you cursing my Jake?” “They broke up because he doesn’t like her anymore. What’s the problem?” She was about to close the door. But she added one more thing. “Oh, right, Stella’s mom.” “I forgot to tell you, our old house was demolished. We got a thirty-million-dollar payout.” “We just picked up a Porsche today and are moving to a place that costs fifty thousand a square foot next week.” “So, this is where our story ends. No need to keep in touch.” The moment the door slammed shut, I swear I heard my mom’s heart break. My mom still couldn’t believe she misjudged him. Until she saw that her chat window with Jake’s mom had a red exclamation mark next to it (Blocked). That night, she shook me awake. “Stella, let’s move back downtown.” “The penthouse, the concierge service, the luxury spa. I miss them.” I bolted upright in bed and nodded, relieved. It took forever, but my mom finally saw the light. My dad and I drove the Rolls-Royce straight back to the penthouse that very night. We finally didn’t have to pretend to be poor anymore. My custom clothes, luxury bags, limited-edition blind boxes. I bet you missed me. I’m home! Chapter 4 The next day, I walked into the classroom wearing my limited-edition sneakers. Summer Lei scoffed loudly. The other students looked over. “Stella and Summer are wearing the same shoes.” “It took me one second to guess who’s wearing the fake ones.” “Stella bought knockoffs? No wonder Jake dumped her. She’s so shallow.” “I heard Stella is still harassing Jake, clinging to him even after his family got rich.” “She was wearing eighty-dollar sneakers yesterday. Now she’s in twenty-thousand-dollar shoes? Who’s going to believe that?” Summer played the generous angel. She pretended to be understanding. “It’s okay. Stella probably just doesn’t know about brands.” I slapped her hand away. “Who the hell doesn’t know about brands?” Summer was embarrassed but couldn’t show it. She forced herself to look hurt. “Why are you so mean?” “If you’re mad because Jake is chasing me,” “I just won’t say yes to him.” ??? Who’s mad about that? Jake swooped in like a hero, protecting his potential girlfriend. “Stella, we’ve known each other for years. Don’t I know exactly who you are?” “You know the most about two-dollar street food and seven-dollar instant noodles. You know anything about designer sneakers?” The class erupted in laughter. “I saw Stella arguing with an old lady over fifty cents! She’s desperate!” “She thinks wearing the same shoes as the school beauty makes her one? Or is she trying to win Jake back?” “No matter how hard she tries, the school beauty’s style is still low-budget on her.” Maybe the thirty-million-dollar payout gave him confidence. Jake decided to test me. “Since you claim you know shoes.” “What’s the name of the founder of this brand? What’s his birthday?” The name and model number were on the tip of my tongue. You don’t ask the brand name? You ask about the founder and his birthday? My face was red with fury. Before I could explode, Jake assumed I was humiliated. “Enough. I know breaking up with me hit you hard.” He pulled a meal card out of his pocket. “There’s five hundred dollars on this. It should last you one semester.” Seeing me refuse, he shoved it into my hand. “Stop pretending. I know you need it.” “Consider it compensation for the breakup.” I rolled my eyes and threw the meal card back at him. I sat back down in my seat, only to realize Jake had moved. He moved next to Summer, claiming he was helping her study. But everyone knew his real motive. Jake was gone. No one wanted to sit next to me. But a poor student in the class, Chloe Xie, took pity on me and silently moved to the empty seat. As Chloe moved, Summer leaned on my desk and sneered: “The whole class hates her now. Moving next to her? You know what that means.” Chloe still moved next to me. I asked her why. She said she couldn’t stand Jake and Summer using their money to bully people. I felt slightly offended. It’s still TBD who’s using money to bully people.

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