Category: English

1 My mother and Jenna were on the sofa when a news report came on. The anchor, visibly upset, announced that a boot camp had abused its students, leading to a quiet, depressed girl’s death. Before it finished, Jenna laughed. “Kids are so fragile these days. A few smacks and they die? They just need discipline.” My mother agreed, feeding her a chip. “Exactly. My Chloe was the same, always pretending to be depressed. But since I sent her to that camp, she’s improved. She even writes letters now.” As she spoke, she took my blood-stained final letter and, without reading it, tore it up and threw it away. A sharp pain tore through my soul. Mom, if you knew the dead girl was me, would you feel satisfied? If so, I’m glad. It’s the last thing I can do for you. … My younger brother, Leo, came home from skipping class to play basketball, bursting through the door and making a beeline for the kitchen fridge. He grabbed a can of Coke and started chugging it down. Mom immediately dropped the chips and hurried over with a damp towel for him. She gently wiped the sweat from his brow, her voice full of adoration. “Oh, look at our Leo, all grown up! With a body like that, you could be a model. Who cares about school? Tell your homeroom teacher it doesn’t matter if you’re at the bottom of the class. You’re destined for great things.” After finishing his Coke, Leo glanced around the house. “Is that useless girl not here? No wonder I can drink this out in the open. Where’d she go?” Mom scoffed, the disdain in her eyes impossible to hide. “Hmph. Sent her off to a behavioral boot camp. That sister of yours has a stubborn streak that needs to be broken. The camp and her school have called a few times, but I haven’t bothered to answer. So annoying.” Hearing those words, my ghostly form, standing right beside them, flickered with a sudden awareness. A fragile hope sparked within me. If Mom had just answered the teacher’s call, maybe they would have brought my body home. Just bring me home. Lay me to rest. Then I wouldn’t have to be a lost soul, forever trapped in this place. The thought filled me with a desperate longing. Talking about me always irritated Mom, but with Leo in front of her, her expression softened back into that of a loving, gentle mother. “She’s not like you. You might not get good grades, but you’re a good, sweet boy. Your sister, on the other hand… always walking around with a face like death, like someone owes her a million dollars. What good are her grades then?” “It’s so frustrating,” she went on. “Last weekend, I went to her parent-teacher conference. Her teacher told me I should pay more attention to her, that she seemed a little depressed. As if we’re neglectful parents or something.” Jenna stood up, passionately agreeing. “Exactly! It’s not like you starve her or anything. She’s just faking this depression to make you look bad!” She covered her mouth with her hand, a mischievous smirk on her face. “No offense, but don’t you think your Chloe is just like those girls we used to hate in high school? The ones who acted all fragile and innocent just to get all the guys to fall for them?” Mom erupted in laughter, her body shaking. “You know, you’re right. What rotten luck, giving birth to a two-faced little actress. Who else has my luck?” Ashley, the girl with the worst grades in our class, couldn’t stand me. She hated that I did well, and she especially hated that her favorite biology teacher always praised me in class. One day, during the long lunch break, she dragged me into a bathroom stall. Her eyes were filled with contempt as she grabbed my chest, her fingers digging in hard. “No wonder all the guys in class are obsessed with you, writing you all those love letters. You’re just a little slut who developed faster than the rest of us, huh?” She leaned in, her voice a cruel whisper. “What do you do at night? Get yourself off under the covers?” I kept my head down, too scared to say anything. A curtain of dark hair fell over my eyes, hiding the world from my view. But my silent, submissive posture only seemed to infuriate her more. “Still faking it! You think playing the innocent victim is going to make me feel sorry for you? A girl knows a girl.” She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face, her eyes blazing with hatred. “You’d better watch yourself. Stop putting on that slutty act. The next time I see you asking my favorite teacher a question, it won’t be just a slap.” The incident left me with deep psychological scars. From that day on, I grew more and more withdrawn. I avoided eye contact. I was afraid to speak more than a few words to anyone, terrified of accidentally setting someone off. That was why my homeroom teacher thought I was depressed. After the parent-teacher conference, she had pulled my mother aside, her voice filled with genuine concern, suggesting she take me somewhere to relax. But what awaited me outside the school gates were words far more painful than any slap or taunt. In the car, after my mother asked why I was so quiet and I tried to explain, she just laughed. Jenna, sitting in the passenger seat touching up her makeup, smirked. Her voice dripped with disdain. “What, is depression some kind of fashion statement for you kids now? Everyone’s got some kind of psychological issue. If you ask me, you just haven’t been hit enough.” She turned around, looking down at me as I cried silently in the back seat. “Besides, if you’re getting bullied and people are spreading rumors about you, don’t you think maybe, just maybe, you’re part of the problem?” “Look at you right now. Who are you trying to fool with this weak, pathetic act? Playing the victim. If you ask me, you had it coming.” My mother heard the venom in Jenna’s words and froze for a second. She glanced back at me, a flicker of pity and regret in her eyes. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Jenna caught the look instantly. “Tsk,” she clicked her tongue, her face hardening. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for her. That’s not how you raise a kid. You’ve got to stamp out these dramatic tendencies, or you’ll end up with a manipulative little monster on your hands.” “I know a great behavioral boot camp I can recommend,” she said. “Thirty-four hundred a session. Send your daughter there for a good workout. She’ll come back obedient as a lamb. You can thank me later.” Ever since their school days, my mother had been the least popular one in their friend group, while Jenna was the undisputed queen bee. There were a few years, before I started elementary school, when I remember being cherished by my mother. The memories are hazy, but I recall sunlight warming my skin as I sat on a grassy lawn. My mother’s face was wreathed in smiles as she lifted me high into the air, her perfect teeth flashing as she cooed and made me laugh. Her perfume was the sweet scent of summer peaches, and I would giggle uncontrollably, a carefree little duckling. Then, one day, Jenna saw me, and the ridicule began. “Look at the way your daughter stares. Did you see that? She was totally checking out that cute guy.” My mother was stunned. As a mother, she knew her five-year-old daughter was simply captivated by the colorful pinwheel the man was holding. But the thought that her friend, the one she was always trying so hard to please, was actually talking to her, made her fold. She went along with it, her voice timid. “You’re right. Already looking at boys. So shameless.” The memories tumbled through my mind, fragmented and sharp. I suddenly remembered my first day at the boot camp. The first thing the instructors made us do was shave our heads on the drill ground. Some of the girls refused. Their punishment was a cattle prod that left no visible marks. One of the older male instructors zapped a girl in front of him, sending her crashing to the ground. He leered at her crumpled form. “Listen up. Any girl sent here is not some pampered little princess anymore. You need to remember your place. You’re nothing but filth in this camp.” “Follow the rules, you get to eat. Don’t, and all that’s waiting for you is pain.” The terrified girl choked back her tears. Her hands trembled as she picked up the electric clippers and began hacking away at her own hair. Her beautiful, waist-length locks fell to the ground in clumps, until she looked like one of the shorn, docile sheep from my childhood memories of the countryside. What’s the difference, I wondered, between us and livestock here? In that moment, I knew. This wasn’t just some ordinary boot camp. It was a hell designed to break our spirits and trample our dignity. For dinner that evening, we were given a small bowl of white rice with a spoonful of white sugar sprinkled on top. A few girls who had been there longer than us devoured their food like starving animals, their eyes vacant as they mechanically shoveled the rice into their mouths, like robots performing a programmed task. Even though I wasn’t hungry, I copied them, forcing mouthfuls of rice down my throat. In a strange and hostile place, the best way to avoid trouble is to blend in, to not stand out. The rain outside hammered against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows, a dense, rhythmic drumming like a thousand tiny nails. A sudden clap of thunder startled me, pulling me from my memories. I looked down at myself and realized my form was so transparent, almost like I was made of rain. For some reason, after death, my spirit was confined to this house. I think it was because of my last words. The agonizing, desperate cry echoed in my ears again, and I trembled uncontrollably. I was so scared. I curled my spiritual form into a ball and hid in the closet. But the wish I made as I died still reverberated around me: “I want to go home. Mom, I want to come home.” In the living room, Jenna was lying with her head in my mother’s lap, whining like a child for Mom to peel grapes for her. She was a completely different person from the one who had slapped me at the camp. Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring. The sudden shrill of the phone cut through the air. My mother glanced at the caller ID and her face lit up. But the voice on the other end, my father’s voice, was tight with urgency. “Where’s Chloe? Isn’t she home? Why are the police telling me to fly back? They said they couldn’t reach you. Chloe… they said something happened to her, but they wouldn’t say what over the phone.” My mother panicked at his accusatory tone. Her eyes darted around the room as she scrambled for an excuse. “Chloe? She’s right here at home! She’s fine! You must have gotten a scam call.” Hearing my father’s voice, a warmth spread through a cold corner of my heart. My nose stung, and I felt something wet drip down my face. Can ghosts cry? My father had been working in London ever since I was in elementary school. He only came home for the holidays, and every time, he would bring me beautiful dresses and special layer cakes from the city. His voice trembled now, low and terrifying. He demanded she start a video call and show him where I was. “Where is she? Why can’t I see her?” “You said Chloe was at home! Where is she? What have you been doing all day? How can you not even take care of your own daughter? Did you send her to one of those awful boot camps?” “The police said she was hurt at a camp. They told me to come back immediately.” Hearing that my father already knew part of the truth, Mom finally started to panic for real. But she quickly composed herself, forcing a casual tone. “Chloe’s just at a camp to learn some social skills. A little scrape is no big deal. She wrote home just a few days ago saying everything was fine. I just finished reading it today and threw it in the trash.” As she spoke, she rushed toward the trash can, intending to fish out the letter and show it to him. “Chloe’s a timid little thing, she wouldn’t even fight back if someone hit her. I’m sure she’s fine…” She reached into the trash can to retrieve the letter she had torn to pieces. My heart, or what was left of it, swelled with anticipation. I was sure that once she saw the letter, she would come get me. They would piece me back together. And then I could finally leave this place that held my soul captive and be reborn. But just as her fingers were about to touch the paper… The unthinkable happened.

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When my biological father, James Sterling, finally found me, I was on my knees begging on the street. It was the dead of winter. While the imposter, Chloe Sterling, was bundled up in a thick designer puffer jacket, I was in rags, my skin mottled purple from the biting cold. In my past life, I never wanted to fight her. Yet, she killed my dog, stole my parents’ love, and seized the inheritance that should have been mine. In the end, I was brutalized to death, all thanks to her orchestration. Now, my real dad held me tight, swearing to make everything up to me. I stared coldly at Chloe, who was holding my biological mother’s hand not far away, and smirked. Where should I start dissecting this snake? Chapter 1 My father carefully placed me into the passenger seat and cranked up the heat. Chloe, seeing me take her usual spot, pursed her lips and glared at me before turning to bury her face in my mother’s coat. “Mom… it’s hot…” I looked at my mother, putting on a desperate, pathetic expression of yearning for maternal affection. My birth mother’s heart twitched with guilt, but she still looked down to comfort Chloe. “Honey, maybe turn the heat down a bit?” I sneered internally. Look at this. This is my mother. For me, she has only guilt. All her love belongs to Chloe. “Luna has been freezing. She can’t get cold again,” my father frowned, disagreeing. He glanced at me, limp in the seat, barely breathing, and panicked. He touched my forehead. “Burning up! We need to get to the hospital, now!” At the hospital, they ran a full checkup. When the nurse came to draw blood, I rolled up my sleeve, exposing my arm. My skin, tanned dark from exposure, was a tapestry of scars. Burns, whip marks, old wounds layered under fresh ones. Not a single patch of unblemished skin. All gifts from my adoptive parents. They forced me to beg. If I didn’t bring back enough money, I got beaten. They even talked about selling my organs. I had to beg on my knees, sobbing that I could fetch a good bride price later, before they let it go. Zero dignity. And I shouldn’t have suffered any of this. It was my adoptive parents who secretly switched me and Chloe at birth, swapping our lives. Seeing my arm, Chloe screamed and buried her head in Mom’s chest. “Mommy! A ghost! Ahhh!” I flinched violently. The needle slipped, and blood gushed out. “Enough!” My father glared at Chloe with genuine anger. “Luna, I will find the best doctors in the world. You will heal.” I lowered my head. In my past life, I didn’t want to worry them. I always wore long sleeves and pants, even in summer. They just thought I was weird. This time, I’ll make sure their hearts bleed for me. The results came back: severe malnutrition, anemia, widespread skin infections, chronic pneumonia. My father clenched the report, trembling with rage. After calming down, he hugged me tight. “Luna, don’t worry. Those animals who hurt you… I won’t let a single one go!” I didn’t look at Chloe, but I knew she was sweating bullets. After all, those “animals” were her biological parents. If her real parents went to jail, her little act would be over. I stayed silent for a long moment, then spoke with a mix of hesitation and concern. “Father, Mom and Dad… I mean, Uncle and Auntie raised me for eighteen years. If you go after them, it might hurt your reputation. It’s a family scandal… I don’t want to make things difficult for you. You bringing me home is already enough for me. Let the past go.” Every word was calculated, distant yet forbearing. A hot tear landed on my cheek. My father patted my head, moved. “Luna, you are so sensible.” On the way back, my father arranged everything: a nanny, a driver, even a personal nutritionist and therapist. In the rearview mirror, I saw Chloe’s face twisted in jealousy. These were perks even she, the pampered princess, never had. This was the treatment for the real Sterling heiress. I smirked. If I’m right, the drama starts tonight. Chapter 2 We arrived at the Sterling mansion. My little brother, Max, came bounding out. He gave huge bear hugs to Mom, Dad, and Chloe, completely ignoring me. Mom looked at me awkwardly. I smiled. No surprise there. In my past life, Chloe painted me as a hypocritical villain, telling Max I was there to steal our parents’ love. A ten-year-old kid naturally hated me. Worse, the day I brought my dog, Dodo, home in my last life, Chloe framed Dodo for biting Max. Dad was furious. He slammed Dodo to death right in front of me and slapped me when I cried. My puppy was four months old. Even if he bit someone, it wouldn’t even break the skin. How could he hurt Max? “Max, this is your real big sister,” Mom said gently, pulling Max’s hand. Max clung to Chloe, eyes wide and glaring. “What smelly sister? I don’t want her! I only have one sister!” Chloe squeezed out some tears right on cue. “Mom, Dad… now that Luna is back, will you kick me out? Sob… I only have you guys… please don’t send me away. I’ll be good. I won’t fight with Luna for anything.” Mom, soft-hearted as always, hugged Chloe and wiped her tears. “Of course not! Mommy loves you most. How could I send you away?” Dad stood there, smoking, deep in thought. Chloe was clever. Playing the victim perfectly, making my return look like I was wrecking their happy family. I squeezed out two tears of my own and stepped forward, grabbing Chloe and Mom’s hands. “Forget Mom, even I couldn’t bear for you to leave, sister. Besides, your biological parents haven’t been found yet. Why not wait until then? I’m new here and don’t know how to be a good daughter. I still need you to teach me, sister.” Seeing me so cautious and obedient, Dad looked pained again. “Chloe can stay for now. I’ll have someone investigate her background.” He didn’t say she could stay forever, but he didn’t kick her out. Compared to my last life where he promised we’d be a “happy family of five,” this was a huge improvement. I winked at Chloe. Step one of killing a snake: Marinate it in fear. This is just the beginning, Chloe. I’m going to personally drag you into the hell I crawled out of. Back in my room, I finished the bird’s nest soup and supplements the nutritionist prepared. I put on silk pajamas and lay in the soft bed, plotting. It was time to bring Dodo back. Thinking of his death made my stomach cramp. Chloe told Dad that he loved citrus scents, so I sprayed Dodo with Jo Malone Lime Basil & Mandarin. Turns out, Dad was allergic to citrus. He sneezed constantly, never got close to Dodo, and scolded me, banning the dog from the house. The next day, Chloe brought Dodo inside, pinched Max until he screamed, and blamed the dog. Dodo died. I was kicked out, crying in the rain with his cold body all night. Chloe walked up to me with an umbrella, smiling. “Sister, I heard the dog meat place on the west side is great. Dodo was so well-fed, he must taste delicious, right?” I snapped. I strangled her. Just as I was about to finish her off, Dad showed up and knocked me out. When I woke up, I was deaf in my right ear from the blow. Someone filmed my attack on Chloe and posted it online. The internet called me a psychopath, a monster, and told me to die. I closed my eyes, pushing the memories away. Dad had already transferred me to a new school. Tomorrow, the battlefield shifts to the classroom. Chapter 3 In the morning, the nanny brought me several outfits. All of them were garish clashes of red and green, purple and orange. I glanced at her coolly. So, she’s Chloe’s dog too. In my last life, I was too timid to refuse. I wore these clown outfits to school, embarrassing my parents and getting mocked by classmates. This time, I was prepared. I pulled out a black, understated suit I bought myself. High ponytail, pearl clip. Classy. Low-key. The nanny looked honest, but I saw the ambition in her dull eyes. Last time, she pretended to be my ally, teaching me all the wrong things while feeding info to Chloe. Chloe used her to turn me into a “vulgar redneck.” Seeing her face made my blood boil, but I kept my cool. I smiled, eyes curving into crescents. “Auntie, grab me a bag of dried crab snacks. I’ll eat them after breakfast.” The nanny nodded and left. In the dining room, the family was already eating. Chloe was wearing a pink Chanel-style jacket, a white pleated skirt, and a pearl necklace. She was laughing while feeding Max sweet soup. I raised an eyebrow. Dressing like that for school? She’s really trying hard to sell the “rich princess” image. Too bad Dad hates flashy, frivolous styles. He prefers my vibe. Sure enough, Dad’s expression softened when he saw me. Chloe, seeing me, immediately piped up with fake concern. “Sister, in the Sterling family, we wait for everyone before eating. You’re late, the food is cold.” The nanny told me breakfast was at 7:30. It was 7:20. I clutched my chest, feigning weakness. “Thanks for reminding me, sister. But my health is poor, and the doctor said I need eight hours of sleep. I got back late yesterday… I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” Mom and Dad immediately waved it off, eyes full of pity. I poured the crab snacks the nanny brought onto a plate. Suddenly, a pair of chubby hands snatched them. Max shoved the snacks into his mouth, crunching loudly, staring at me with triumphant, beady eyes. What a brat. Fighting over food. Dad frowned, about to scold him, but Mom laughed it off. Halfway through the meal, Max suddenly turned pale. He clutched his stomach and slid off the chair. “Max! Max, what’s wrong?! Don’t scare Mommy!” Mom was hysterical. Dad stayed calm, grabbed the car keys, and rushed Max to the hospital. Max was sent to the ER. Outside, Dad comforted a sobbing Mom. Chloe spoke up, voice trembling. “It was the crabs! Luna, how could you be so cruel? Poisoning a child! Max might not like you, but he’s your brother! Aren’t you afraid of breaking Mom and Dad’s hearts?” She turned to me, eyes wide with disbelief and tears. Her accusation lit a fuse in Mom. She lunged at me. Slap! My face burned and swelled instantly. Her eyes were cold, like I was her enemy, not her daughter. Dad stood aside, watching coldly. My heart ached dully. If you never saw me as a daughter, why bring me back? In my last life, I only realized the truth as I was dying. I was just a pawn. Businessmen value profit over parting. Their “family love” is just a mask. They wanted a perfect doll. Between the broken me and the exquisite Chloe, the choice was obvious. Last time, I craved love and acceptance, and I lost everything. This time, I only want revenge, money, and power. I looked at Dad, eyes misty, voice trembling. “I didn’t do it.” “I didn’t hurt him. I wanted to eat those snacks myself. He snatched them.” Chapter 4 Dad looked conflicted. The doctor walked out, sighing. “Who is the family?” Dad raised his hand. “How is my son? Poisoning?” “Poisoning? No. Kids have sensitive stomachs; he just choked on the dry crab. He’s fine now. But—you can’t mix tangerines and white radishes! Don’t you parents have common sense? That causes goiters!” “We didn’t give him that!” Dad protested. “Impossible. We asked the kid, he’s been eating it for a while. You people are so careless!” Dad’s face darkened. Max was watched by the nanny, and the nutritionist wouldn’t make that mistake. The only suspect… was the sweet soup Chloe made for him. Dad realized it too. He glared at Chloe, whose face was draining of color. “Father, I didn’t…” Mom stood there, torn between worry, guilt, and grief. Ignoring the drama, I walked into the ward. Max was lying there, rosy-cheeked, eyes tight shut. I sat down and poked his face. “Get up, Max. Stop faking.” His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t open his eyes. I continued, “Max, you ate those crab snacks on purpose, didn’t you? Looks like you were bullying me, but really, you knew Chloe’s soup was bad news. She’s too good at acting, so you had to cause a scene to expose her, right?” Max’s eyes popped open. He sat up like a spring. “How did you know?!” I pinched his nose. “Because I’m your real sister. Why didn’t you just tell Mom and Dad?” He pouted. “Real sister, so what? If it wasn’t an accident, she’d hurt me worse…” “Is it because when you told on her before, no one believed you, and they blamed you for not loving your sister?” Max went silent. I knew I hit the mark. I sighed and hugged him. “Max, remember this. I came back not to hurt you, but to protect you and kick that snake out. You can always trust me.” Chloe’s crying echoed from the hallway. After a long silence, Max spoke, and I felt my shoulder get wet. “I’m sorry.” Parents eventually figured it out. Chloe, in the name of love, had been feeding Max a toxic combo to make him sickly so he couldn’t compete for the inheritance. Dad was disappointed. He cut off one of her credit cards. Moving her from Dad’s heart wasn’t going to be easy. The next day, I went to school with Chloe. Dad transferred me to Class A at B City Foreign Language School—Chloe’s class. In my last life, Chloe promised to take care of me but sabotaged me at every turn. First day intros? She asked what talents I had. I turned red and said “nothing,” becoming the laughingstock for three years. I didn’t know English. In an all-English class, the teacher asked me questions, and Chloe translated them wrong on purpose, making the teacher hate me. They framed me for stealing, slapped me… I remember it all. I lowered my eyes to hide the hate. Chloe, you’re in for a surprise. Chapter 5 To save face, Dad told the school I was a daughter raised by my grandparents in the countryside, kept out of the public eye. When the teacher introduced me, I started my self-introduction in flawless, Oxford-accented English. In my last life, to please my parents, I spent countless nights practicing English. To them, it was worthless. Luckily, no effort is ever truly wasted. Chloe interrupted, feigning innocence. “Luna, what talents do you have? Tell us so we can play together!” I smiled at her. “Chloe, you’re so silly. We’re family. Don’t you know what I can do?” Chloe’s face stiffened. I ignored her and addressed the class confidently. “I’ve loved piano since I was small. I’m proficient in Go, calligraphy, and painting. Ballet, Latin dance, swimming, skiing—I can do them all. You’re all welcome to come over and see.” In my last life, people said I was timid, nothing like a Sterling. So I learned everything. Whatever Chloe could do, I learned. Whatever she couldn’t, I learned too. But Dad just called me a cheap imitation. Well, now I’ll use everything you despised to slap you in the face. Chloe leaned back, eyes full of suspicion. And… anticipation. Calculating the date, Dad should be planning my “Welcome Home” banquet soon. Good. Time to strike back. Even though I knew the high school curriculum by heart, I didn’t slack off. I studied hard while watching Chloe like a hawk. Chloe was chatting with her bestie, Jessica Liu. “Chloe, where did this sister come from?” “Luna… her status is special. She just came home recently.” Chloe hesitated, acting like she needed courage to speak, tears welling up. What a move. “Special status.” In rich families, that means illegitimate. A bastard child brought home means she’s dangerous enough to threaten the legitimate heir. She was implying I was the homewrecker’s daughter. Jessica, a hothead with a big mouth, exploded. Rumors spread like wildfire. Everywhere I went, I heard insults. “A bastard competing with the real princess? Does she deserve it?” “Born from a mistress, born cheap.” Then came the bullying. They called me names. Asked my price for a night. They tore my homework, wrote curses on the walls. They stalked me, investigated me… even tried to assault me. It was a carnival of cruelty. That day, Chloe led a group of girls dressed like punks to block me in the bathroom. They laughed, grabbing my arms. Long nails dug into my skin, drawing blood. Chloe, looking arrogant, kicked me in the stomach with her metal-tipped heels. I doubled over in pain, looking up with fake confusion. “Sister, how did I offend you? Why are you doing this?” Chloe’s exquisite face twisted. “Don’t think just because Dad spoils you, I can’t touch you. Blood related? So what? I am the only Miss Sterling! Listen, bitch, you are my dog. I own you.” She signaled, and the girls ripped my clothes. Chloe stood over me, taking photos with her phone. “This is just a warning. Next time, it won’t be this simple.” She slapped me, then stomped on me with her heels before storming out. I curled up, coughing, but a smile crept onto my lips. Sister, thanks for the “gift.” What should I get you in return?

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So, I had to hit the ER over the weekend. Just my luck, my ex-husband was the doctor on duty. He glanced at my test results, didn’t even lift his head, and sneered, “Three years, and you still can’t find a man to come with you to the hospital?” I stayed silent, staring at the ceiling tiles, trying not to pass out from the pain. He kept going. “Get a family member here. You need surgery. I need to discuss the procedure with someone responsible.” “Don’t try to find me later. We’re divorced.” The next day. A chart-topping pop star. A billionaire heir. A genius race car driver. Three dangerously handsome men show up in my hospital room at the same time. Taking turns grilling him about my condition and treatment plan. His eye twitched, fighting to keep a professional face while looking like he was about to cry. “Tell me… these three men are all your ‘family’?” “Yep. Does the hospital have a rule against having more than three family members?” 1 I took an Uber to the ER over the weekend. Never thought I’d run into my ex-husband working the shift. Looking at the man in front of me—white coat, gold-rimmed glasses, face like stone—my heart felt worse than my stomach. Divorced for three years. Didn’t expect to reunite like this. Dr. Julian Vance looked at the clipboard, head down. He told me to lie on the exam table. Then his long fingers gently pressed on my lower abdomen. “Hurts here? Anywhere else? Is it a cramping pain or intermittent?” I turned my face away, not wanting to look at him. “Sharp, twisting pain.” His cold voice drifted down from the fluorescent lights above. “Probably appendicitis. Needs to come out. But there’s an issue…” He stopped. Looked up at my pale face. Frowned. “You’re not in good shape. I suggest surgery ASAP to relieve the pain.” “Where’s your current husband?” When I didn’t answer, he started scribbling on my chart again. Finally, he looked me in the eye, voice dripping with icy sarcasm. “Three years. Still haven’t found a guy to hold your hand at the doctor’s?” I kept quiet, staring at the ceiling, fighting the pain. He scoffed. “Stop playing dead. Just medical advice. Get a family member here now. You need surgery. I need to go over the options with them.” “And don’t look at me for support. We’re divorced.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Seriously, Julian? Three years and you’re still this full of yourself? I’d pick literally anyone over a washed-up has-been like you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I didn’t even get to see his face turn purple. I passed out from the pain. Appendicitis isn’t a disease, but man, it feels like it’s killing you. 2 When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. Vague voices floated into my ears. “We still haven’t reached her family. Poor thing. Doesn’t look old, probably married, right? She’s got a ring, but where’s the husband?” “Who knows? Even if she has no family, what about friends? Not a single visitor. Must be a lonely life.” “Hey, I saw Dr. Vance handled her admission himself. Seemed kinda personal. Maybe she’s stalking him? I heard him asking about her husband…” “Shh! Don’t be ridiculous. Dr. Vance? With her? His girlfriend is that rich girl with class. His first love. They’re solid. Don’t drag him down with just anyone.” I couldn’t take it anymore. They weren’t whispering. They were broadcasting right next to my ear. Just as I was about to say something, I heard Julian’s voice. “Don’t discuss patients in the ward.” Great. So you were there the whole time. Listened to the whole thing, let them trash me to boost your ego, huh? Divorced, and he’s still dating that trust-fund “first love”? Makes sense. He fought so hard for the divorce just to be with his “white moonlight.” Thinking back to that rainy night, seeing them entangled in the doorway… makes me want to puke. Julian walked to my bedside, tone flat. “If you’re worried about your family seeing me and getting the wrong idea, I can step out. There are other doctors on rotation. As long as…” Suddenly, a man rushed into the room, gasping for air. Dressed like a hypebeast, mask and cap on. You’d think a celebrity just walked in. He instantly grabbed everyone’s attention. “No need, doc. I’m family. Can you brief me on my wife’s condition?” Julian turned, saw the guy. Then whipped back to glare at me. “You remarried? This guy is really your husband?” I paused, tilting my head. “Family, I guess. We had a beach wedding.” The masked man walked up to me. Smiling eyes, like peach blossoms. He looked Julian up and down. Then, shockingly, extended a hand. “Hi, Dr. Vance. I’m her husband, Leo Starling. You can discuss the surgery with me.” Julian sized up the man who was just as tall as him. Even with the mask, the eyes were stunning. Clearly a looker. Julian’s voice turned colder. “You sure you’re the husband? She came alone yesterday, passed out cold. You weren’t exactly by her side.” Before Leo could reply, I jumped in. “He’s busy. Packed schedule. I didn’t tell him.” Julian’s mouth tightened, face darkening. “What kind of job is so busy he can’t care about his wife’s health?” “Your taste in men is getting worse.” I cut him off. “Dr. Vance, aren’t you crossing a line? We’re just doctor and patient.” Next second, my hand was gripped tight. Leo pulled down his mask. A top-tier handsome face leaned in close. “Aw, babe, don’t be mad. It’s my fault.” “I called you all night. Just finished my concert and caught the red-eye back.” “Don’t fight with the doctor. If he scolds me, fine. If he scolds me, he can’t scold you.” The tea was piping hot. Julian looked like he swallowed a lemon. The nurses nearly screamed. “It’s really Leo Starling! OMG! I watched his music show! He’s even hotter in person! I love his new song! I heard he was married, didn’t know it was true! His wife is right here!” The chatter in the ward was getting louder. Julian took a deep breath. Glared at me. “Family members cannot disturb the patient’s rest.” Leo didn’t even look up. “Then get my wife a VIP suite.” Julian: “No beds.” Leo narrowed his eyes: “Then we transfer.” Julian gritted his teeth: “She needs surgery immediately.” Sparks were flying. Even the nurse noticed the weird vibe. “Dr. Vance, you seem really invested in this patient. Are you friends?” “No.” Julian denied it instantly. 3 Hearing that, Leo slowly turned his head. Tears welled up in those pretty eyes. “Boohoo, wifey, do you have a terrible disease? Trying to hide it and break up with me? I won’t allow it! We have money! We can cure anything!” “No! We’ll go abroad! If we can’t cure it, I’ll die with you!” Seeing him script a whole K-drama in his head, I pushed his face away. “Fix your brain first. It’s appendicitis.” Tears still in his eyes, he threw himself on me, hugging me tight. “Just appendicitis? Bad appendix! Nasty appendix! We’re not playing with it anymore!” I winced in pain and pinched his side. “Leo, stop acting like a moron or get out!” Leo had his fun. The nurses were suppressing squeals. “Ahhh, he’s so cute! He’s even hotter than Dr. Vance! They’re so in love!” Dr. Vance stared at Leo’s hands on me. His gaze turned icy. He dropped a stiff sentence. “Come to my office later. I’ll explain the afternoon surgery.” As soon as Julian left, Leo whispered in my ear with a smirk. “Ex-hubby got mad and ran away.” I rolled my eyes. “So? You better stop groping me.” I moved his hand off my waist. Leo sat on the stool, looking pathetic, peeling an apple for me. “Can’t a husband touch his wife?” I rolled my eyes at him again. Whispering a correction: “Technically, we just have a contract.” Leo’s starry eyes shimmered. Like he was about to cry again. “Oh. So you’ve always just seen me as a Contract Beast, not a man?” 4 I looked at him, headache brewing. My Contract Beast No. 1, Leo Starling. Current human identity: A pop idol who debuted three years ago. Got famous for his voice and skills, but exploded because of that face. In this world, Beastkin and humans coexist. But normal people don’t know. Only a few researchers do. My family has a secret. If a woman reaches adulthood without a partner, the family assigns her three Contract Beasts. In plain English— If you’re 25 and single, the family forces three hot Beastkin dudes on you. They look human, have human identities. But they can only bond with you. It starts as a Servant Contract. If you choose one, it becomes a Lover Contract. Naturally, all the males want the Lover Contract. Servants can’t control their own lives. Lovers… well, if the human dies, they die too. It’s romantic like that. Leo was assigned to me three years ago, right after I divorced Julian. I knew the family’s game. He’s still a servant, trying to charm his way into a promotion. I forced a smile and pinched his cheek. “Idols dating? Shouldn’t you just retire? Where’s your professional integrity?” “I’m a singer, not a face model. My agency doesn’t ban dating. Besides, if you give me the Lover Contract, I’ll quit everything. Stay home, raise the kids.” Leo said it casually, but his tone was dead serious. I avoided his gaze. Coughing twice. “Thirsty. Water, please.” Leo trotted off happily. Nurses kept peeking in. Worried about paparazzi and crazy fan girls, I asked Julian for a private room. Being surrounded by hemorrhoid patients wasn’t ideal. Julian rejected it cold. “No private rooms. Stay or transfer.” “Forgot to mention, surgery is at 1 PM.” Great. 100% holding a grudge. Petty ex. Allowed to date his rich girl, but I can’t have a pop star? If the other two show up, will he explode? Leo insisted on waiting until my surgery was done. His assistant was blowing up his phone. He had a show to film tonight. Julian was the lead surgeon. Blue mask, surgical cap. Just those handsome eyes showing. Right before anesthesia, he “casually” chatted. “Is he good to you?” Silence in the OR. He continued, pretending not to care. “With his job, he must be busy. Can he eat with you every Friday? Watch a movie every week?” My mouth twitched. “Do I have to answer, Doc?” Julian’s amber eyes dimmed. “Just chatting. Want coconut chicken later?” I almost lost it. Dude, I’m getting my appendix out. You’re talking about men and chicken? I wanted to ask if he got possessed after the divorce. Next second, the drugs hit. Lights out. Vaguely, I remembered what he meant. I chased Julian five years ago. He was an intern. used every trick in the book to get his WeChat. Chased him for three months. Made him my boyfriend. Married him two years later. He was busy. But every week, we had date night. Dinner, walk, movie. He’d hold me when I fell asleep halfway through. How long did the happy days last? Less than a year and a half… We started fighting. Why? I forgot. I just remember… Julian didn’t love me. There was always his “first love” between us. 5 Wheeled out of surgery. Leo wasn’t on his phone. He was right there, looking worried. Rushed over to hold my hand. Julian blocked him. Anesthesia was wearing off. I cracked an eye open. Leo didn’t get mad. Just sighed. “Moon, get well soon. I have a show to film. Can’t stay. Didn’t hire a nurse… guessing the others got the news. You won’t lack care.” He meant the other two beasts. Before leaving, Leo patted Julian’s shoulder. Julian looked exhausted. “Tough break, Ex-Hubby. But you gotta get in line. Way back.” Julian looked weirded out. Leo strutted off. His manager had already bribed everyone in the ward to keep quiet. Julian looked grim. Tucked me in. “How did you fall for a guy like that? Do you only look at faces? Do you know his character? Is he considerate?” “You seem very concerned about my taste in men. Jealous?” I asked weakly. Julian looked at me. Nurse staring nearby. He feigned indifference. “You can’t be alone. Need a caregiver until the catheter is out. Want to hire one? I’m… free these next two days…” Knock on the door. A pretty woman in a Chanel suit stood there. Pale face. “Julian! I couldn’t reach you. My friend felt sick while we were shopping for wedding favors. Can you check her?” She walked in. Saw me lying there, half-dead. Eyebrows raised. Smile froze. Nurse gasped. “It’s Ms. Gold! Dr. Vance’s fiancée! They’re wedding prepping!” “Did she hear something? I heard she keeps him on a tight leash.” “I heard Dr. Vance is divorced. His ex-wife took a payout and left. Dumped him for money.” The gossip was getting wild. Ms. Gold covered her mouth in fake shock. “Is that Luna Lin? Are you sick? Did Julian operate on you? Where’s your family? No one here?” She walked over, grabbing my hand with fake sympathy. “You should have said something! I would’ve told Julian to take extra care of you. He’s a Chief now. Even if you’re divorced, we can be friends, right?” Fake smile. Loud voice. Making sure everyone heard. Julian frowned, pulling her away. “Leave the room. Take your friend to my office. I’ll be there after rounds.” She nodded, playing the victim. “Okay, okay. I won’t disturb your work. Just business, I know.” Emphasizing “business.” Implying his care for me was just professional obligation. I was too tired for this. “Whatever. If you really care, wire me twenty grand.” Ms. Gold froze. Julian almost laughed. Suddenly, the door burst open. A team of professional caregivers marched in. Behind them, a man in a custom suit. Sharp features, mixed race, handsome in a cold, aristocratic way. Different league entirely. I closed my eyes. Damon Cross. Contract Beast No. 2. Identity: Heir to a conglomerate. Controls half the city’s economy. Walking romance novel trope. I swear, my family breeds these guys based on Wattpad tags.

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1 My fiancée was pregnant with her male colleague’s child. And she was due any day now. She walked through the door after a business trip, her belly swollen and round, just as I was putting the finishing touches on our new home. My voice was a raw tear in the quiet room as I demanded an explanation. She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “He was just a sperm donor, Ethan. When it comes to you, my conscience is clear.” Then, before I could even process the words, she left with that same colleague to go pick out a Children’s Day gift for the baby. I immediately sent a message to the family group chat: The wedding is off. But everyone, absolutely everyone, thought I was overreacting. Dia’s mother, Helen, texted me, her tone patient and condescending: Dia is beautiful and highly educated. Genes like that should be passed on. Think of it as a contribution to the world. Her father, Mark, was more blunt: She didn’t cheat on you. Why are you making a federal case out of it? My own father nearly had a heart attack. You stubborn fool! Do you know what a perfect match this is? You’re throwing it all away? My mother was sobbing over the phone. If you call this off, no one will ever marry you! “Then I’ll never get married!” I yelled back, my eyes burning. But a moment later, a message from someone else lit up my screen: So, Ethan. When do I get my promotion? … That evening, Dia came in, gently supported by the arm of her colleague, Leo. They were carrying a massive box overflowing with toys for their unborn child. They exchanged a look, their faces glowing with the shared joy of impending parenthood. When he saw me, Leo smiled and held out a small, gift-wrapped box. “Ethan, I picked this out especially for you. I didn’t realize how much this was bothering you… Please, accept this as my apology.” I didn’t even look at it. I swept it from his hand and tossed it directly into the trash can. Leo’s smile froze. Tears welled in his eyes and began to stream down his face. “Ethan… I… I’m so sorry.” He choked on a sob and hid behind Dia. Dia immediately stepped in front of him, a shield against my anger. She looked at me with weary exasperation. “Ethan, don’t be like this.” “Leo was just participating in a company initiative to donate superior genetic material. Besides, his mother has lung cancer, and her dying wish is to see a grandchild… and I happened to want a child as exceptional as he is.” “We’re just colleagues. That’s all.” “Colleagues?” My voice shook. “Do colleagues text each other ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ every single day? Do colleagues share a private music playlist? Do colleagues take the fall for each other at work dinners and then go miles out of the way to drive each other home?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted. “Here we go again. I’ve explained all of this. You’re the one who’s always so paranoid, always overthinking things.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Her explanations were pathetic. Normal office chatter. A senior just looking out for a junior. They were full of holes, but I had chosen to believe them, again and again. Five years. I couldn’t let five years of my life end like this. Gritting my teeth, I pointed at her belly, pushing her. “Fine. Let’s say I’m overthinking it. Let’s say I’ve misunderstood everything.” “Get rid of the child. Then I’ll pretend none of this ever happened, and the wedding will go on as planned.” “No way!” Dia’s voice shot up, sharp and furious, before she visibly reined it in. “The child is Leo’s. I don’t have the right to decide its fate.” Leo’s face went chalk-white. He dropped to his knees in front of me with a soft thud. His hands protectively cradled Dia’s stomach, his voice thick with tears. “Ethan, there’s nothing going on between Dia and me. The baby… he’s eight months old. I can feel him kicking my hand right now. I can’t… I can’t…” He wept uncontrollably, his whole body trembling. Dia’s face was a mask of conflict. After a few agonizing seconds, her resolve crumbled. She helped him to his feet, a tired, defeated smile on her face. “Ethan, asking me to get rid of the baby now… that’s like asking me to rip out his heart.” I stared at her, a cold smirk twisting my lips. “What’s the matter? Does it hurt to see him so upset?” Dia flinched, her expression turning to one of pain. “I never thought you could be so cruel. If this is your condition for marriage, then we’re clearly not meant to be… Let’s break up.” “Ethan, Dia is innocent! Don’t take your anger out on her!” Leo suddenly wailed. “Blame me! I can’t bear to lose the baby… but I’ll prove our innocence with my life!” Before the words were even out of his mouth, he bolted for the balcony, making a show of climbing over the railing. My heart leaped into my throat. I lunged forward. But Dia was faster, scrambling after him in a panic. Before either of us could reach him, Leo collapsed onto the floor, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. Dia threw her arms around him, her own body shaking. After a long moment, she looked up, her eyes like chips of ice fixed on me. “Ethan! Your baseless accusations almost killed Leo!” She looked at me as if I were a stranger. “Leo’s mother is dying! Are you trying to kill him, too? You can stand there and watch, cold and unmoved, but I can’t.” Her voice trembled with rage. Gently, she helped Leo to his feet and turned to face me. “Get out of the way,” she commanded. I was frozen. “I didn’t mean…” “Leo… the baby… I think he’s coming,” Dia suddenly gasped, her eyes rolling back as she fainted. “Dia!” Leo’s face was a deathly white. He shoved me aside with surprising force, scooped Dia into his arms, and sprinted out the door. I stumbled and fell to the floor, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, but it did nothing to stop the icy chill spreading through my chest. I stared at the ceiling until dawn. Finally, my phone lit up. It was a message from Dia. I was just panicked last night. I said some things I didn’t mean. Ethan, I’m sorry. A bitter sting filled my nose, and tears flooded my eyes. For years, she was always the first to apologize after a fight, and I’d always let her have the easy way out. But this was different. This was a line I could never uncross. Before I could reply, another message came through. It was a photo of her with a newborn baby. She was cradling the tiny infant, her gaze soft and filled with a tenderness I had never seen. I went into labor early. Natural birth, but the baby is healthy. He looks just like Leo. I have to stay in the hospital for three days. Let’s just postpone the wedding by a week. I can’t deal with it right now. Every single word was a needle in my heart. Numbly, I stood up and began to tear down the wedding decorations. I took a pair of scissors and shredded her wedding dress into ribbons. My hands shook as I packed my bags. Just as I zipped my suitcase shut, Dia’s mother, Helen, walked in, her face beaming. “Dia asked me to bring her some clothes at the hospital. And of course, this new grandma is dying to meet her granddaughter.” When I didn’t respond, she linked her arm through mine affectionately. “Ethan, dear, I know Dia was wrong not to tell you. It was embarrassing for you. But at the end of the day, it’s not like she committed a mortal sin, right?” “I know how much you two love each other. You can’t let a little thing like this break you up. What you said in the group chat was just said in anger. Let’s forget all about it.” “Come on. Come to the hospital with me. Give Dia a chance to make it right, and we can put this all behind us.” I let her pull me along like a zombie. The next thing I knew, I was standing outside a hospital room. Leo was asleep on a cot, his pale face streaked with tears. The birth had clearly taken a lot out of him. Dia was holding the baby, humming a soft lullaby. Dia’s father, Mark, was actually smiling. “Dia’s a flight attendant. Let’s name the baby Skylar. She can carry on the legacy!” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen chided. “You can’t give a girl a name like that.” She reached for the baby, eager to hold her. Dia turned away. “Mom, you don’t know how to hold her. You’ll hurt her.” Her eyes caught sight of me, and she lit up. “Ethan, come see her! Look at her tiny hands and feet. Isn’t she adorable?” She leaned down to kiss the baby, then stopped abruptly, looking flustered like a child caught doing something wrong. “Oh, no, no. Mommy can’t give you her germs.” I’d never seen this playful, clumsy side of her before. This was her as a new mother: awkward and overflowing with love. She was desperate to show her joy to the world, but I was the one person who shouldn’t have been included in it. I forced a stiff smile and turned to leave. But Dia grabbed my arm, carefully holding the baby out for me to see. “Ethan, look. Her nose and her mouth… aren’t they the spitting image of Leo?” I glanced down. The tiny face was indeed a perfect miniature of Leo’s. The resemblance was a physical pain, a sharp jab to my eyes. A lump formed in my throat. I coldly pushed the swaddled infant away. Looking at Dia’s expectant face, I refused to give her the reaction she wanted. “Get it away from me. It’s ugly. I can’t stand looking at it.” The baby let out a piercing wail. Dia’s expression instantly turned to ice as she soothed the crying child. Helen’s glare was like a knife. “You’re the ugly one here!” Mark pointed to the door. “You’re not welcome. Get out!” I didn’t even realize Leo had woken up. “Ethan…” He looked pleadingly at Dia’s parents. “I’d like to speak with Ethan alone for a moment.” Once the door was closed, Leo’s face was a mask of apology. “Ethan, I don’t want to break you and Dia up. She really loves you. The truth is… that night, Dia was drunk, and we…” A roar filled my ears. “It wasn’t a donation?” He looked away. “Dia wanted to keep it from you. She was afraid you’d be upset.” “By the time she found out she was pregnant, it was already three months along. She was furious, said she was going to get rid of it. But my mother’s condition was getting worse, and she just wanted to know my line would continue. Dia felt sorry for me, so she agreed to keep the baby.” “So why are you telling me now?” I stared at him, my voice flat. “Why not just lie to me forever?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to call his bluff. His expression shifted, and he fell silent. I laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Well, Dia and I have broken up now. Your child has been born. The three of you can live happily ever after. What else could you possibly want?” His expression twisted, a strange, triumphant smile playing on his lips. The next second, he deliberately rolled off the cot and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He immediately started screaming in terror. “Ethan, I know I was wrong! Please, don’t hit me!” I was completely stunned. Before I could even react, I was violently yanked backward. CRACK! A searing pain exploded across my cheek. I tasted blood. Mark’s face was purple with rage as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “You bastard! You think you can start a riot in a hospital?” He raised his hand to hit me again, but Dia stopped him. “Dad, he’s my fiancé. I’ll handle this.” She led me into the hallway and gently applied an ice pack to my swollen face. I stared at the floor, mumbling, “I didn’t push him…” “Mm,” was all she said. No anger, no questions. I knew her too well. That silence was the loudest denial. If she believed me, she would have fought for me. If she didn’t, she said nothing. But if she didn’t believe me, why was she being so gentle? Tears escaped my eyes, falling onto the back of her hand. She flinched as if burned and snatched her hand away. She stood up. “If you’re just going to stay here and upset Leo and the baby, you should go home.” I grabbed the hem of her shirt, my voice cracking. “Just believe me this one time. Please?” She sighed, a deep, shuddering sound, and pried my fingers off her shirt, one by one. It was the gesture of someone who had given up completely. “Ethan, I can overlook what you’ve done. That’s how much I love you. But the least you could do is be honest with me.” A familiar ringtone shattered the silence—the sickly-sweet pop song she’d set as Leo’s custom ringer. How much further must I go to reach your heart… How much longer ‘til I can be close to you… I’d once asked her, “Isn’t it a little inappropriate to have a custom ringtone for a male colleague?” She had looked at me, bewildered. “Leo likes the song. It was nothing. Don’t overthink it.” I watched as she answered the call and walked away without a backward glance. I sat on the bench, my face throbbing, and started to laugh and cry at the same time, like a man who’d just been given a terminal diagnosis. She wanted honesty? Had she ever been honest with me? I went back to our apartment to get my suitcase. I was about to head to my parents’ place when a video call from them came through. My father was clutching his chest, his finger shaking as he pointed at the screen. “The Andersons just told us you went on a rampage at the hospital and attacked Leo while he was looking after Dia! What the hell is wrong with you? The hospital director is a friend of mine! He messaged the group chat asking what’s going on! You’ve completely humiliated our family!” He started gasping for breath, and my mother rushed to give him his medication. She turned to glare at me. “Dia explained everything. She and that young man are just colleagues. Why do you have to push them together like this?” She noticed the bruise on my face and sneered. “Serves you right.” “What did I do wrong?” I took a deep, shuddering breath, my voice hoarse. “Why do you believe them over me?” “Believe what? You haven’t said anything!” they yelled in unison. Looking at their unforgiving faces, all the fight went out of me. “Forget it.” I hung up before they could see my tears. I couldn’t bear to hear them say it again: Is crying all you know how to do? In that moment, I had nowhere to go. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Clara. So, Ethan. When do I get my promotion? Now. I typed it without a second thought. Clara had been a hopeless case in high school, always at the bottom of the class. Then, in our senior year, she transformed, studying relentlessly to get into the same university as me. What followed were years of her chasing me. A hundred confessions, a hundred rejections. Who would want to date a slacker who seemed proud of her bad grades? It didn’t matter that she was beautiful enough to stop your heart. After graduation, Dia and I got together. Clara moved to Switzerland to study, but the messages never stopped. Daily check-ins, little stories about her life, and the recurring question every few days: When do I get my promotion? I never replied, but she was like a tireless machine, never giving up. Thinking of this, I sent another message. We get married in three days. You’re the bride. You want the job or not? BANG! The apartment door was kicked open. Dia stood there, her face a thundercloud, her eyes locked on me. “Ethan! What the hell did you do to my clothes?” “What—” “Shut up!” She lunged at me, grabbing my wrist and slamming me against the wall. I had never seen her like this. Her eyes were bloodshot, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I held the baby wearing the pajamas you brought me. Within ten minutes, she broke out in a full-body rash and went into respiratory failure! She’s in the ICU right now!” “She’s a newborn baby, Ethan! You give me a goddamn explanation!” “I didn’t do anything!” My wrist ached in her iron grip. I struggled. “Let go of—” Her hand flew toward my face. I instinctively flinched, turning my head. There was a sickening crunch as her fist slammed into the wall right beside my ear. When I opened my eyes, I saw blood trickling from her knuckles. My voice shook. “Dia… were you… were you really going to hit me?” She seemed to snap out of her rage, her grip loosening. She pulled me into a hug, her voice frantic. “Ethan, I… I panicked. I’m so sorry.” “I told you, I can forgive you for anything. But this time you’ve gone too far. Leo is a mess, he keeps saying he wants to die with the baby. Please, just go to him, get on your knees, and apologize. Will you do that?” A hot tear splashed onto my neck. “Just do it for me. I promise you, if you just apologize, we can still get married.” This was the woman who didn’t shed a tear when she broke three ribs in flight training. Now, she was crying. A woman only cries when she has a weakness. Leo and the baby were her weakness. I looked at her trembling shoulders and smiled. “Fine. I’ll go apologize.” She let out a breath, visibly relieved. “Let’s go to the hospital now.” She reached for my hand. I pulled away, my face a blank mask. “I can walk on my own.” “Okay,” she nodded, then added anxiously, “Hurry. I’m worried Leo is going to have a breakdown…” We had just reached the ICU waiting area when Leo fell to his knees, clutching my legs. “Ethan, please, you can take my life, just let the baby be okay.” He was sobbing hysterically. I was so tired of the act I could have laughed. I tried to pull him up. “Stop the performance. I should be the one kneeling. I’m begging you, your highness, to let me go. I don’t want Dia anymore. She’s all yours.” He looked up, a flash of triumph in his eyes before it was replaced by terror. “No, that’s not it. Dia will always be yours. I would never dare… I just want to live a quiet life with my baby.” “Get up!” I had lost all patience. He grabbed my hand. I yanked it away in disgust. He used the momentum to fall backward, his head hitting the linoleum with a loud crack. He let out a piercing shriek. “That’s enough!” Dia rushed over to help him up, looking at me like I was a monster. “Ethan, if you don’t want to apologize, then don’t come here! Leo has been up all night, he hasn’t eaten or slept. Our baby is fighting for her life, and you have the nerve to bully him?” I looked down, at a complete loss for words. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t believe me anyway, would she? After a long silence, Dia laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. “Then again, what am I expecting? I saw you hurt him and the baby with my own eyes, time and time again. Just go home. You’re only making things worse here.” “The baby’s parents, I need to speak with you!” a doctor called out. Without a backward glance, Dia led Leo toward the doctor. The doctor shot me a disapproving look. “Bystanders, please keep the noise down.” That’s right. They were the parents. I was just a bystander. A superfluous extra. Twice in one day, I had come to this hospital only to humiliate myself. In their eyes, I must seem like a vicious, unhinged maniac. All the strength drained out of me. I staggered backward, right into a warm, steady embrace. Clara held me, her voice trembling with excitement. “So, Ethan. Is the promotion effective immediately?”

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Chapter 1 My husband killed himself. All because the “love of his life”—his muse—thought his amputated limbs were disgusting. Before he died, he demanded to be buried in the plot nearest to hers, just so he could watch over her for eternity. And what did I get? The wife who stood by him for years? I got a mountain of debt and a final letter full of venomous gaslighting. “Chloe, if it weren’t for saving you back then, I wouldn’t be a cripple.” “If you have a shred of conscience, you’ll take care of my parents and Bella after I’m gone. Send them ten grand a month.” My in-laws screamed at me, beating me, cursing me, wishing I had died instead of Ethan. But as the blows landed, the memories of the past sharpened in my mind. Ethan didn’t lose his limbs saving me. He was trying to save Bella. I was the one who dug him out of that pile of corpses with my bare hands. To pay for his surgeries, I liquidated my assets. I took on massive debt. Ten years of selfless devotion, and this was my reward. A heavy blow struck the back of my head. My vision went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of Ethan’s accident. I pretended I knew nothing. I boarded the plane for my overseas business trip. In this life, I wouldn’t even spare him a glance. “Ms. Hart, bad news! An earthquake just hit Oakhaven!” “Mr. Pei arrived there yesterday. We can’t reach him.” As soon as I walked into the airport terminal, my assistant, Sarah, chased after me, phone in hand, looking frantic. That’s when the reality of my rebirth truly hit me. Just like in my previous life, right as I was about to leave for London to close a transnational deal, disaster struck Ethan. Last time, I abandoned the trip without a second thought to find him. That decision pissed off our investors. The hundred-million-dollar project was scrapped. My company took a fatal hit. I had focused all my energy on Ethan, watching the business I built from scratch spiral into bankruptcy. Now, the executives behind me were watching me nervously. They knew I was obsessed with Ethan. They knew that even though he treated me like cold leftovers, I was the pathetic simp who would drop everything for him. Someone whispered, “Ms. Hart, the contract…” “Let’s go,” I said, walking toward the gate. I paused and turned back, my voice ice cold. “In the future, don’t bother me with anything regarding Ethan Pei.” The team stood there, stunned, before scrambling to catch up. The shock on their faces was priceless. Everyone knew I loved Ethan to the point of madness. But that woman died in her previous life. Until the plane took off, I didn’t look back. The negotiations lasted seven days. We hammered out every detail and secured the partnership. The team returned to the States in high spirits. As soon as we landed, I turned on my personal phone which had been off for a week. Notifications exploded. Everyone in Ethan’s circle had been blowing up my phone. I glanced at the messages with a detached laziness, then hailed a cab to the hospital. Chapter 2 Ethan was lying in a hospital bed, wrapped like a mummy. One arm and one leg were gone. In my past life, because I got to him quickly, he only lost a hand. When he woke up back then, he screamed like a maniac. He couldn’t accept his “imperfect” body. I wondered if he could handle the reality of his injuries now that they were ten times worse. His mother, Linda, was sitting by the bed, weeping tears of exhaustion. “He’s been in a coma for seven days. He hasn’t woken up.” “The doctor said he was crushed under the rubble for too long. His internal organs are damaged.” “The amputation area is too high… he can’t even use prosthetics. What are we going to do?” “He was fine! How did he end up like this?” Linda cursed through her teeth, “Who the hell did this to my son?” It was the same script as my last life. “My son is going to be a famous painter! How can he live without his right hand?” “If I find out which little slut caused this, I’ll kill her!” Back then, Ethan’s injuries weren’t life-threatening, and he was awake. Hearing his mother, and unable to accept the loss of his painting hand, he had shouted: “I got hurt saving Chloe!” I was dumbfounded back then. Why would he say that? He was saving Bella. But Linda had found her scapegoat. She slapped me across the face. “You bitch! My son doesn’t even like you, why are you so toxic? Are you trying to kill him?” I couldn’t explain. I just stared at Ethan. I thought he was delirious from the pain. But then, he had looked at his mother, then grabbed my hand. “Mom, I want to marry Chloe.” “Look at me. She’s the only one who won’t be disgusted by me now.” Linda had sneered but agreed. “Since she ruined you, she has to take responsibility. She can take care of you for the rest of your life.” After Linda left, Ethan had hugged me, crying. “Chloe, don’t be mad. I only said that so my parents would agree to the wedding.” “If they knew I did this for Bella, they’d force me to marry her. But I don’t love her anymore. You saved my life. I only want you.” I was so stupid. I believed every word. I ignored my company. I spent my fortune on his treatments and custom prosthetics. He said he wanted to paint, so I found the best doctors. I traveled the world for his rehab. He cried about not being able to support his parents, so I bought them a villa and luxury cars. Even when I ended up broke and drowning in debt, I never let the Pei family suffer. And Ethan? Ten years of rehab later, the moment he could hold a brush, he went to Bella. He wanted to rekindle their romance. But she looked at his stump and called it gross. He couldn’t take the rejection. He killed himself. And on his way out, he blamed me. “If you hadn’t been so late, I wouldn’t be like this!” “You ruined me thinking I’d stay with you? Dream on. I’d rather die than give you that satisfaction.” He died, leaving me the debt and a request to support his parents and his lover. He probably didn’t expect his parents to beat me to death in their grief. I opened my eyes, staring at the unconscious man. This time, you won’t get what you want. Chapter 3 Just then, Ethan struggled to open his eyes. “Where… where am I?” “What happened to me?” His face was wrapped in gauze. He couldn’t see anything. Linda lunged forward, grabbing his remaining hand. “There was an earthquake in Oakhaven. You were buried for three days before they dug you out. Your right arm and left leg… they’re gone.” “Your organs are damaged too. Why did you run off to Oakhaven?” Ethan’s body went rigid. But a second later, a burst of adrenaline made him roar, sitting up. “Impossible! How could I be a cripple?” “Mom, are you crazy? I’m your only son! How can you curse me like that?” His father walked in, looking away in pain. “Why would your mother lie? Tell us, how did you get hurt like this?” “No… No! I will not be useless!” Ethan screamed, struggling. Suddenly, he ripped the gauze off his face. Fresh blood poured from the unhealed wounds. It was grotesque. But he didn’t seem to feel the pain. He just kept repeating that he wasn’t a cripple. Then, he saw me. Pure hatred flashed in his eyes. He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Chloe Hart! Did you orchestrate this?” He laughed, a manic, broken sound. “You think I’d believe this lie?” “You think if I believe I’m crippled, I’ll finally agree to be with you? Keep dreaming!” “You bitch, you will never have me.” Confidence is a hell of a drug. I chuckled. “Whether your leg and arm are there or not… why don’t you look for yourself?” Ethan’s cursing stopped abruptly. Like a rusted machine, he slowly lowered his head. He saw the empty pant leg. The reality hit him like a lightning strike. He tried to move his right arm. A sharp, phantom pain shot through his shoulder, but there was nothing there. The sleeve of his hospital gown was flat. He finally realized his parents weren’t lying. “No… this can’t be…” “How can I be crippled? I’m going to be a painter!” “Bella is waiting for me to paint with her… I can’t be like this!” Linda grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Son, tell me! Was it that fox Bella who did this to you? I will kill her!” Ethan froze. The name Bella was like a bucket of ice water. He spoke quickly. “It was Chloe. I got hurt saving Chloe.” Chapter 4 “So it was you, you bitch! My son is ruined because of you, and you only show up now?” Linda went feral. She lunged at me, claws out. I laughed. It was genuinely funny. What did this have to do with me? I did absolutely nothing, yet they still tried to pin this on me? Before the slap could land, I caught Linda’s wrist and shoved her back. Our families were neighbors. I was raised to respect my elders. But the torture they put me through in my last life had ground my politeness into dust. They didn’t deserve it. I spoke coldly. “I was in the city the whole time. A week ago, I flew to London for business. When exactly was I in Oakhaven?” “There are limits to lying, you know.” “If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?” Linda refused to listen. She screamed, “Besides a shameless stalker like you, who else would he risk his life for?” “Tha—” “Shut up!” Ethan cut me off. He turned to his parents. “Mom, Dad, get out. I need to talk to Chloe alone.” The old couple left, reluctant and angry. Ethan looked at me. The hatred was still there, but now mixed with arrogance. “Chloe, as long as you admit I got hurt saving you… I’ll agree.” A look of martyrdom crossed his face, as if he were making a massive sacrifice. “I’ll agree to marry you.” “HAHAHAHA!” I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed until I saw the rage building in his eyes. “Ethan, do you actually think you’re a prize?” “Why would I take the blame for this?” “You think you can just invent a narrative where you’re my savior and guilt-trip me for life?” “And honestly… do you think I want you like this?” “I’m not running a charity for the disabled. Why would I marry a cripple?” I turned on my heel and walked out. Venting felt amazing. “Chloe! How dare you speak to me like that?” Behind me, Ethan screamed in impotent rage. “You’re the one who begged to marry me! I’m finally saying yes, how dare you refuse?” “Chloe! Get back here!” He screamed until his voice cracked. I didn’t look back. Chapter 5 For the next few days, I was busy hosting the partners from London. If this deal went through, the company would level up. IPO within two years, guaranteed. My assistant rushed in, looking stressed. “Ms. Hart, bad news. There’s a scene downstairs.” I walked out of the building. Ethan was sitting in a wheelchair. His parents were standing next to him, wailing about injustice. Behind them, people were holding banners. When Linda saw me, she lit up. “That’s her! That heartless bitch!” “My son lost an arm and a leg for her, and she won’t even admit it!” “They’ve been together for years, and now that he’s hurt, she dumps him!” “Who would do business with a woman like that? She’ll scam you!” I scanned the crowd coldly. My eyes locked with Bella, who was hiding in the throng. Ethan was useless to her now. She probably wanted to use him one last time to extort money from me. But I wasn’t the soft touch I used to be. Ethan’s voice rasped out, “Chloe, I can forgive you for trying to abandon me.” “But I promised to marry you. That hasn’t changed. Let’s get married.” I finally understood why the Pei family was so bold. Ethan was convinced I still loved him. He thought all he had to do was snap his fingers, and I’d come running. I guess I played the role of the loyal dog for so long, they forgot I was actually a human being. “Uncles, Aunties, everyone listening,” I announced, stepping forward, voice projecting clearly. “It is true that someone has been dating their son for years and abandoned him after the accident.” “And it is true he became disabled saving a woman. But that woman isn’t me.” “If the rule is ‘you must marry the person who saved you,’ then you should be talking to Bella.” I pointed directly at Bella. “I have evidence of their years-long affair. I have proof that during the earthquake, Ethan Pei was buried under rubble trying to save Bella.” “And I have proof that Bella ran away to save her own skin, leaving him to die.” The crowd gasped. I smiled at Ethan’s parents. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.” “No! It wasn’t me!” Bella shrieked, looking like a cornered rat. I didn’t give her a chance. I tossed a handful of photos into the air.

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My mom has a brain tumor. My dad just got laid off. Meanwhile, the billionaire trust-fund baby I’m dating is pretending to be broke, making me DoorDash to support him. I overheard him joking with his friends: “The delivery girl is the best kind. She puts out on the first date without costing me a dime.” “You act a little pathetic, and she feels sorry for you. She’s practically paying me to date her.” My heart shattered. But then, a notification chimed in my ear: [Congratulations, Host. You have bound the “Pretend Poor, Get 100x Cashback” System.] [From now on, every cent you spend on Julian will be returned to your account 100x.] That night, I bought him a $1,500 tie. As my bank balance exploded by the millions, I overheard him complaining to a friend: “So annoying. I lost a $150,000 watch at the golf course this afternoon.” 1 I was delivering an order to an exclusive private members’ club when I saw my boyfriend sitting in the center of the VIP booth. He waved his hand and popped a bottle of vintage wine worth $50,000. That was two years of my salary. I desperately wanted to convince myself that it wasn’t Julian. But he was wearing the cheap, clearance-rack shirt I had bought him. Someone looked him up and down, laughing. “Julian, you’ve been playing the ‘starving artist’ game with that delivery girl for two years. Aren’t you bored yet?” “You don’t get it.” He swirled his wine glass, looking every bit the arrogance prince he was. “These girls who’ve been single since birth are pure. They’re naive, clean. She gave it up without me spending a penny.” “She actually feels bad for me. She rushes to spend her own money on me. She’s not like those gold diggers who only want cash.” He paused, the corner of his lips curling up. “Honestly, after a while, it gets kind of addictive.” The people around him burst into laughter. “That’s hilarious. She’s cheaper than a hooker!” “Julian talks a big game, but he was ruthless when he fired her dad.” “Yeah, her mom’s sick, her dad’s laid off, and Julian’s pretending to be unemployed while she feeds him. Isn’t that a bit cruel?” I trembled. I never realized that Julian was that Julian—heir to the Sterling Group. My dad had worked at a Sterling subsidiary his whole life. Six months ago, he was fired for no reason. My dad aged ten years overnight. I felt a sting in my nose. I didn’t understand why Julian would do this. But Julian, sitting on the velvet sofa, just laughed lightly. “If I don’t make her life hard, how can I test how much she loves me?” The room roared with laughter again. “True. Poor people are used to suffering anyway. A little more won’t kill them.” “So Julian is just building her character. Did the delivery girl say thank you?” The laughter was piercing. Julian’s mocking expression was the knife. My heart ached violently, and then, a mechanical voice rang in my brain: [Congratulations, Host. You have awakened the Pretend Poor 100x Cashback System.] [From now on, every penny you spend on Julian will be legally returned to your account at 100 times the value.] [Please confirm binding.] I looked at Julian in the booth. Someone asked him, “Of all the women you’ve tested, this delivery girl has lasted the longest, right?” “For real. You think this gutter rat might actually fly up the branch and become Mrs. Sterling?” Everyone looked at Julian. He just scoffed. “Who would be stupid enough to take a game seriously?” His tone was lazy, indifferent. “When I get bored, I’ll toss her a few bucks and dump her.” My heart died right there. [Beep. Countdown: 3 seconds. Please choose.] I didn’t hesitate. I gritted my teeth. “Bind the system.” 2 The moment I stepped out of the club, my parents called. “Chloe, honey, don’t send so much money home…” “Keep it for yourself. If you starve, Mom and Dad will be heartbroken.” I looked down at the takeout orders hanging off my scooter. “It’s okay, Mom, Dad. I’m working on a big project recently. The company loves me. I have plenty of bonuses.” A guilty sigh came from the other end. “It’s all my fault. If I wasn’t so useless, if the company hadn’t fired me, you wouldn’t have to work so hard.” I held back tears. My dad worked hard his whole life. Julian treated his livelihood like a game, a prop for his twisted amusement. Why do the poor deserve to be played with like this? I clenched my fist, hatred burning in my chest. On the other end of the line, I heard a suppressed groan of pain. “Mom, is your head hurting again?” She was diagnosed with a rare brain tumor years ago. Not immediately fatal, but agonizing. She needed imported painkillers just to function. The only cure was surgery. Surgery that cost a fortune—at least $150,000 to start. My mom tried to hide it, but her voice was shaking. My eyes were wet, but my voice was steady. “Mom, don’t worry. I will cure you.” After hanging up, I called Julian immediately. “Jules, where are you?” The background noise on his end was loud, but he didn’t skip a beat. “I’m waiting for an interview. Is it urgent?” My voice smiled, but my eyes were cold. “Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you.” 3 When Julian came home, he hugged me from behind. He tilted his head. “What surprise?” I smiled, acting mysterious, and told him to close his eyes. Gently, I tied a tie around his neck. A niche luxury brand. A tie worth five figures. When he opened his eyes, he was genuinely surprised. He knew that spending $1,500 on a tie was an impossible luxury for someone like me. He stared at me, hesitating. His eyes asked, Why did you buy me something this expensive? I smiled innocently, rubbing his face. “Because you deserve the best.” Julian had once put this tie in his online cart, and I had accidentally seen it. Back then, he stammered, “I’ve never worn anything this nice. Just putting it in the cart to dream.” Julian seemed dazed. “Just because I mentioned it once?” I looked at him with total devotion. “If you say it, I take it to heart.” His gaze softened. The emotion on his face didn’t look fake. “Chloe.” He buried his face in my neck, murmuring. “You are so good to me.” I smirked, feeling satisfied. Because at that exact moment, the notification chimed in my head: [Congratulations, Host. $150,000 has been deposited into your bank account.] 4 Julian couldn’t stop touching the tie. He took a dozen selfies in the mirror before finally taking it off to shower. He left his phone wedged in the sofa cushions. I slid the screen open. I saw the message he sent to his “The Boys” group chat. He posted ten photos of the tie. “See this? The hillbilly bought it.” The group responded immediately: “Not bad. The delivery girl finally has some taste.” “She really spent it all, huh? That’s gotta be months of her wages.” “Running thousands of deliveries just to buy a tie. She’s obsessed with you, Julian.” Julian’s replies were smug. “I mentioned it once, and she remembered.” “Ask yourselves, which of your women would do that for you?” The group chimed in with envy: “I’m actually jealous. Maybe I should pretend to be poor to find a girl.” “I’m tempted. I’m tired of fancy meals; maybe I need a taste of something plain.” Nausea rolled in my stomach. I used to trust Julian so much I never checked his phone. If I had, I would have seen he had two accounts. One with monthly bills in the hundreds of thousands, posting luxury cars and parties. The other, pretending to be broke, posting only about me. I scrolled up. It got more disgusting. Julian pretended to be unemployed, eating my food, living in my apartment, faking sympathy: “Baby, I’m sorry I’m a burden. I’ll try hard to find a job so you don’t have to work so hard.” In reality, his “interviews” were just parties at high-end clubs. A single bottle of wine he opened for fun cost more than I made in years. He’d come home satisfied, pretend to be depressed about the “failed interview,” and test me: “I’m sorry, I’m useless. I don’t deserve you.” And stupid me, fresh from delivering orders under the scorching sun, would comfort him softly. Julian played me like a fiddle. All for that one line: “I want to test how much she loves me.” I put the phone down, disgusted. Julian walked out of the bathroom in a towel. He scanned the room. “Babe, have you seen my watch?” I shook my head. He frowned, cursing under his breath. “Damn it, must have lost it outside.” Julian loved reading watch magazines. I used to look at them with him. Once, I pointed at the watch on his wrist and a Patek Philippe in the magazine worth $150,000. “These look so similar.” “Dummy, it’s a high-quality fake.” He tapped my nose, smiling sweetly. “If this was actually worth a hundred grand, I’d pawn it immediately.” “I’d pay for Mom’s surgery so you wouldn’t have to work.” It was a lie, but it sounded sweet at the time. Now, it was just a joke. Who knew the watch was actually worth $150,000? Wait. $150,000? My heart skipped a beat. The System chimed in right on time: [Host is clever! You guessed right.] [The System is law-abiding. We don’t print money.] [The money returned to your account is actually drained from Julian’s assets.] 5 Julian lost a $150,000 watch. But he just shrugged it off. “Whatever, it’s just a watch. I’ll buy another one later.” I froze. $150,000. That was my mother’s life. I worked 9-to-6, delivered food at night, and did odd jobs on weekends. Three jobs. Six hours of sleep. I worked myself to the bone, and I still couldn’t scrape together the surgery fee. To him, it was a toy he didn’t mind losing. I stared at his back and smiled bitterly. Julian, oh Julian. You love pretending to be poor and playing me like a monkey? Since you love acting so much, I don’t mind making you actually poor. I started treating Julian like a king. Whatever he mentioned, whatever he wanted. I bought it. The System had reminded me: [Only money spent on items Julian actively requests or mentions will trigger the 100x return.] Maybe I was too good to him. His eyes started to change. He would often stare at me and ask seriously, “Chloe, why are you so good to me?” I would cup his face, faking pure adoration. “Because I love you 100%. I’d do anything for you.” He didn’t even realize he was falling for me. When my earnings hit $5 Million, the System unlocked a reward: Remote Monitoring. I could now see and hear Julian whenever I wanted. In the private club, Julian was back in the VIP seat. His bros were staring at the new watch on his wrist. “Julian, I thought you wouldn’t wear anything less than a Patek?” “Don’t remind me. I lost that thing.” Julian glanced at his new watch—a $5,000 piece I bought him—and actually smiled. “But honestly, after wearing flashy stuff for so long, something simple isn’t bad.” His friends weren’t stupid. Julian would never buy a “cheap” $5,000 watch. Someone bought it for him. They started mocking him. “It’s a cheap watch. Don’t tell me you’re falling for the delivery girl over some small favors?” “Exactly. Buying you gifts isn’t a real test. You need a big test!” “Poor people value money over life. If she’s willing to give you her mom’s surgery money, that’s true love!” Some people felt uncomfortable. “Come on, that’s too much. She saved that money for years. You want to ruin her family?” “Joking about her mom’s life is low.” “Chill,” someone laughed. “Does Julian need her pennies? It’s just a test. He’ll give it back.” “Yeah, if she passes, maybe Julian will actually reward her.” Julian twisted the watch on his wrist and smirked. “Fine. If she passes this test, I’ll reward her by making her my official girlfriend.” He scanned the room, his tone turning sharp. “And you’ll all have to call her Sister-in-law.” “If I hear anyone call her ‘delivery girl’ again, I’ll cut out your tongues.” Silence filled the room. When Julian left to pick me up from work, they started whispering again. “Julian is actually catching feelings for the delivery girl.” “He’s been living in a rental with her for two years instead of his mansion. It’s obvious.” “Maybe the hillbilly really will become Mrs. Sterling.” I laughed. Mrs. Sterling? If Julian keeps this up, he won’t be inheriting an empire. He’ll be inheriting an electric scooter to deliver noodles.

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1 It was the fifth year since I’d cut all ties with my family. I saw them again at the prison gates. They were there for my sister’s first day of work as a corrections officer. I was there because I was an inmate being released. When they saw me, my parents froze, a wave of awkwardness washing over them. After a tense silence, my mother spoke first. “Luna… when we asked you to take the fall for your sister, we truly had no other choice.” “We never thought you’d actually cut us off, that you wouldn’t even call us once from inside…” I sidestepped her outstretched hand, grabbed the last of my things, and turned to leave. As I passed, my father grabbed my sleeve, his eyes red. “Luna! It’s been five years! Are you going to hold onto this forever? Is this how you treat your parents and your sister?” “Whatever you have to say, you can say it at home. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go…” What was there to say? I was no longer that desperate little girl, starved for her parents’ affection. Besides… My gaze shifted to a car parked a short distance away. I pulled my arm free. “I have somewhere to go. My family is waiting for me.” … When I pulled away, my father’s temper flared. “Luna Reed! Did five years in prison rot your brain? You won’t even acknowledge your own mother and father?!” “Still as stubborn as ever! You’re not half as likable as Stella!” His voice was so loud that a few of the officers glanced our way, the atmosphere turning thick with embarrassment. My mother quickly patted his arm, urging him to calm down. “Quiet down. You’ll make a bad impression on Stella’s colleagues.” She turned back to me, forcing a smile, her voice laced with a careful, placating tone. “Luna, you know your father’s temper. Don’t take it to heart.” “You haven’t contacted us all these years… did you really think we were going to let you go to prison?” “You’re our daughter too, silly girl. If you had just answered our calls instead of choosing prison, we would have hired the best lawyers to get you out of it.” Her eyes welled up, and she looked like a heartbroken, helpless mother. She seemed to have forgotten that I hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place. The crime was a lie they had fabricated to protect my sister, Stella. I took a step back, my voice calm and even. “Don’t trouble yourselves. The day you asked me to take the blame for Stella, we stopped being a family.” My words made my father’s face darken. “Look at her! Just look at that miserable face! How did we raise such an ungrateful child?!” He raised his hand to strike me, but the ringing of his phone cut him off. He answered it immediately. Stella’s lazy voice drifted from the speaker. “Dad, I’m done with my paperwork. Bring the car around to the West Gate. The main entrance is too far, I can’t be bothered to walk.” “Okay, okay, we’re on our way.” My mother tried to smooth things over. “You see, Luna? Stella is still so lazy…” “Come with us to pick up your sister. It’s her first day, she’s so excited.” “We’re family, there’s no grudge we can’t get over, right? Come on, come home with us…” “Enough!” I couldn’t stand another second of their family drama. I turned to leave. But she grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. I was only ninety pounds now, and the force of her pull sent me stumbling to the ground. My mother stared down at me, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. Even my father was stunned by my gaunt appearance. “Were you a picky eater in there? How did you get so thin…?” A picky eater? What a joke. In their eyes, Stella, with her bipolar disorder, was a fragile porcelain doll. I, the healthy daughter, was supposed to be tough as nails. So every time Stella made a mistake, I was the one who took the punishment. Stella put a bug in the principal’s water bottle. They were afraid the punishment would trigger an episode, so I was the one publicly reprimanded in front of the whole school. Stella’s bullying almost got another student killed. I took the fall, became the ringleader, and lost every friend I had. Until the last time, when Stella committed the ultimate crime… That was the first time I refused to take the blame for her. My reward was a sharp slap from my father. The blow ruptured my eardrum. To this day, I can’t hear a thing out of that ear. Five years had passed. Stella had graduated from the police academy with flying colors. A bright future ahead of her. How nice. I looked at them coldly. “Go back with you? And then what? You really want me back as your daughter?” “If people find out Stella has a convicted felon for a sister, your precious daughter’s career might be over before it even begins.” Their faces went pale. Stella called again, her voice growing more impatient. They looked torn, but in the end, they got in the car and left. After picking her up, their familiar black sedan drove past the main gate again. As they passed, I could hear their cheerful laughter drifting out of the window. A friendly officer I knew walked over. “Our new colleague’s family seems so close,” he said. “Last time her parents were here, they treated us all to dinner and bought her new clothes, just to make sure we’d look out for her.” “By the way,” he added, “I saw you talking to them for a while. Do you know them?” I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I do.” “Once upon a time, I was their child, too.” The officer’s eyes widened. He probably couldn’t comprehend how two children from the same family could end up on opposite sides of the law—one a criminal, the other an officer. A long, long time ago, I was also cherished by that man and woman. Every day after work, my father would go out of his way to wait in line at a bakery on the other side of town. He would carefully tuck the still-warm cake inside his coat, afraid it would get cold on the way home. Every night, my mother would sit by my bed and whisper stories until I fell asleep. Her phone’s photo album was filled with pictures of me—every smile, every tear. In every photo, the three of us were huddled together, with me safely in the middle, as they told me over and over again: “Luna will always be Mommy and Daddy’s most precious baby!” Even after my sister was born, their love for me never wavered. But Stella was a handful from the start. One day she’d be hitting other kids, the next she’d be getting hit herself. My parents were constantly cleaning up her messes, but they were also worried I would feel neglected. To keep things “fair,” every time they had to focus on Stella, they would buy me a gift. Then, when Stella was seven, she jumped from a second-story window at her school without any warning. It happened on the day my parents missed picking her up because they had come to my parent-teacher conference instead. My mother, her eyes red from crying, told me, “Your sister is sick. From now on, we have to spend more time watching her. Otherwise, something terrible will happen. Luna, you’re the older sister. Can you understand?” My father’s voice was hoarse. “Luna, you’re her big sister. You need to help us take care of her.” I wanted to help them, to ease their burden. I nodded without hesitation. “I’ll take good care of my sister!” I was too young then. I didn’t know what bipolar disorder was, and I didn’t understand the weight of the words “take care of your sister.” I never imagined that those few simple words would completely shatter my life. At first, “taking care of her” just meant giving up my own toys when Stella started hitting other kids to get what she wanted, and then apologizing on her behalf. But soon, she learned to use her illness as a weapon. Whenever she wanted something, she would throw things, hit people, or, in more extreme cases, threaten to hurt herself or jump off buildings. My role shifted from apologizing for her to taking the blame for her, to taking the fall for her crimes. My life became expendable in the face of hers. My parents’ attention shifted almost entirely to Stella. Then came my birthday. I used the first paycheck from my part-time college job to buy a cake and had carefully chosen gifts for them. I lit the candles and waited. The candles burned down. Midnight came and went. My phone remained silent. I drifted off to sleep on the sofa. The sound of the door opening woke me. I forced a smile, ready to give them their gifts. But before I could speak, my father, his face etched with frustration, cut me off. “What time is it?! Your sister is in serious trouble, and you’re at home eating cake?!” He swiped his arm across the table, sending the cake crashing to the floor. Seeing the ruined cake, my mother broke down, sobbing. “What are we going to do? Stella has bipolar disorder! She’ll kill herself if she’s away from us! She’s still so young…” Suddenly, her eyes landed on me. “Luna, Mom is begging you. Please, help your sister one last time.” “What is it?” A sense of dread washed over me, my voice trembling. “Take the blame for your sister…” My mother glanced at my father. Stella peeked out from behind him, crying harder than I had ever seen her, her body shaking uncontrollably. My mind went blank. “What… what did she do?” “Stella… her homeroom teacher said a few words to her, and she… she pushed the teacher down,” my mother stammered. “And then what?” My father closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The teacher was eight months pregnant… She and the baby… they both died.” A roar filled my ears. I swayed on my feet, struggling to find my voice. “So… what do you want me to do?” My mother gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Luna, will you take the blame for her? Please?” “We’ve already looked into it. The lightest sentence for something like this is juvenile detention. Stella’s condition is severe. She’ll die in a place like that! Her life is just beginning!” “As for college, we’ll help you file for withdrawal later. And don’t worry, we’ll spend every last penny to get you the best lawyer. We’ll get you out.” I stared at her in disbelief, my legs weak. “And what about me? I worked so hard to get into my dream university! Is my life just disposable?!” “How could you think that?” My mother looked wounded. “Your sister is sick! You’re her older sister, isn’t it your duty to take care of her? You can forget about college. We’ll support you for the rest of your life! Once this is over, it won’t affect your life at all!” I stared at her, my eyes burning, and screamed, “This is one thing I can’t help you with!” Stella burst into tears. My father rushed forward and slapped me across the face. The force of the blow knocked me to the ground. A warm, wet sensation filled my ear. I touched it. My hand came away covered in blood. Seeing my defiance, Stella’s eyes darted around, and she ran for the balcony, wailing. “My sister won’t even help me! I don’t want to live anymore! My life is over anyway!” My parents, thinking she was having an episode, panicked and rushed to grab her, swearing they would fix everything. “Stella, don’t be scared! Mommy and Daddy will take care of it! We’ll solve this!” I watched them frantically console her, and I mumbled, “So in this family, all you have to do is threaten suicide to get what you want? What if I kill myself? What would you do then?” The answer came in the form of a water glass flying at my head and my father’s impatient roar. “Your sister is sick! What are you comparing yourself to her for?! The only reason she got this illness is because we spent all our time focusing on you and neglected her!” The glass shattered against my head. Liquid and blood streamed down my face. And with that, the last shred of hope I had for them died. They locked me in my room and took my phone. Through the door, I could hear them cooing over Stella. My head was splitting open. Everything I touched was slick with blood. The blood from my head, from my ear, smeared all over my face. I pounded on the door, crying for help, but my pleas were drowned out by Stella’s hysterics. I could only watch as the light under the door went out, as silence fell, as my consciousness faded into darkness. When I woke up again, the media had already branded me a killer. The university had sent my official notice of expulsion. The day I was expelled was also Stella’s birthday. My parents said that Stella’s birthday only comes once a year and couldn’t be missed. Meanwhile, I was curled up in my room, clutching my deafened ear, as I read the news of my conviction and expulsion. I tried to defend myself. But the online comments crushed any hope I had. “She pushed a pregnant teacher and now she’s trying to frame her own sister to get out of it?” “A murderer is a murderer.” They had even paid off the victim’s family and the witnesses. Everyone told the same story, all pointing their fingers at me. In my darkest moment, I saw their post on social media, celebrating Stella’s birthday. In the photo, my father was peeling shrimp for her. Everyone was smiling. Like a ghost, I liked the post. My phone rang instantly. It was my father, shouting. “It’s Stella’s birthday! Did you have to ruin it?!” Years of pent-up grief and anger exploded. “What did I ever do wrong?” I sobbed. “Why are you doing this to me?!” The only answer I got was the sound of Stella in the background, demanding her presents as they cut the cake. “Stella’s been in a bad mood lately. It’s her birthday, so you better get her a gift, and fast. Otherwise, she won’t forgive you.” That was all they said before hanging up. A moment later, my phone was flooded with calls from unknown numbers. “Go die, you bitch!” “An animal like you deserves to pay with your life!” The news online kept updating. “Even after all this, her parents are still trying to protect her. They’ve hired multiple lawyers to try and reduce her sentence.” “That ungrateful monster doesn’t deserve such a good family.” As I finished my story, the air in the prison yard grew still. The officer’s face was a mask of disbelief. “Are there really parents like that in the world? That’s not something a family does!” I nodded, my voice devoid of emotion. “That’s why I cut ties with them. I’ve already gathered all the evidence to overturn my case. Once my name is cleared, I can go back to college and…” Splat. A piece of cake flew through the air and hit me square in the face. I wiped the cream from my eyes, my hand now sticky and messy, just like my life. My father, his eyes blazing red, rushed toward me and slapped me again, his voice a furious roar. “And here I was, feeling guilty about your birthday, thinking I’d make it up to you with a cake.” “Luna Reed! How did we raise such a monster?! Are you determined to drive your sister to her death?!”

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My gambling-addicted father pushed me off a balcony, and I landed right on top of my grandmother, who was returning from grocery shopping. We both died instantly. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a hospital bed, getting an ultrasound. Two little girls were standing beside me, looking up with wide eyes and calling me “Mom!” I had been reborn as my own grandmother! So the baby in my belly was… my dad?! The doctor smiled, holding the ultrasound report. “The baby is very healthy. Four months along.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Good, there’s still time. “Doctor, I want an abortion.” 1 Everyone gasped at my words. My “husband”—that is, my grandfather from my previous life—grabbed my hair and started slapping me right there in the hospital. “Sir! This is a hospital! If you touch her again, we’ll call the police!” Doctors and nurses rushed to stop him. I was grateful, but part of me wished they hadn’t intervened. Let him beat me until I miscarry. Save me the trouble of birthing that monster. My in-laws—my great-grandparents—quickly stepped in. “Lana! Don’t talk nonsense! It’s a boy! You can’t abort a boy!” “Exactly! Let’s just take her home and talk some sense into her!” And so, I was dragged home. The whole way back, I kept chanting to myself: [I am Lana Zhang. Lana Zhang is me. Jane Qi is gone. I am gone…] When we got home, I realized “talking sense” meant tying me up. I was tied to the bed for over three months. Eating, sleeping, and relieving myself all in one room. My great-grandparents came in once a week to empty the chamber pot. As for my “husband,” I never saw him. They tried to persuade me: “Lana! Don’t blame us. You kept shouting about abortion. We can’t let that happen. It’s a boy! You’ve already had two girls; this one must be born!” I was emaciated and sore all over. Yet, my great-grandmother still complained: “Eats like a pig. You’ve already gone through thirteen pumpkins…” I did the math. Even though this was my third pregnancy, I was only twenty. I had my first daughter at sixteen. Turns out my grandmother suffered like this in her youth. But that didn’t stop her from abusing me and my mom later on. It was hell, but I knew it would end soon. Because my husband—my grandfather from my previous life—was about to kick the bucket. 2 In my past life, Grandma told me this story. When she was seven months pregnant with my dad, the village was doing roadwork, digging pits everywhere. Grandpa was often away working in the city and didn’t know about it. One night, he was going to a buddy’s house to play cards. Grandma specifically warned him about a pit on his route, so he avoided it. She always bragged about saving his life. This time, I wasn’t going to say a word. Great-grandpa and Great-grandma went to bed at dusk, so they wouldn’t know he went out. Finally, the day arrived. A villager shouted from outside: “Lana Zhang! Come out quick! Your man fell in a ditch!” My in-laws stumbled out half-asleep. As for me, I was still tied up, unable to move. It wasn’t until they were wailing over the body that someone asked about me. “Where’s Lana? Her husband’s dead and she won’t even come out?” A moment later. “Oh my god! The Qi family are animals! Tying a pregnant woman to the bed!” When the villagers carried me out, my legs wouldn’t even bend. Seeing my grandfather’s body covered with a white sheet in the yard, I let out a fake wail. “Oh, my husband! Why did you leave me?!” I buried my face in my knees to hide my laughter. In my past life, he lived into his sixties and tormented us endlessly. He gambled away the family money and even bought a house for a mistress in his old age, causing my eldest aunt to cut ties with the family. Once, he even touched my mom inappropriately with his dirty hands! Now he’s gone early. My life should be much easier. Two months later, I gave birth. It really was a boy. He looked exactly like my dad. Bad luck. I didn’t even want to breastfeed him. My in-laws couldn’t do anything to me now. Since the neighbors knew they tied me up, they checked on me frequently. The old couple didn’t dare try anything extreme again. But then, another wave hit. My husband’s younger brother—my Second Grandpa—came to take the house. 3 “Lana, don’t blame us for being heartless. My brother is dead, and you two never legally married. You have no right to live in his house.” I turned to my in-laws: “Mom, Dad, what do you mean? You’re kicking me out too?” They looked away guiltily but sided with their second son. After all, they relied on him for their old age. “Lana, just go peacefully. Take the two girls with you.” “No. I gave birth to three. If I go, they all go!” “You can’t take the boy! He’s the eldest grandson!” My in-laws exploded. “Screw that! Who said he’s yours? I named him Qi Xin!” Right after my confinement month, I was kicked out with my bags. Before leaving, I extorted a good sum of money from them. I threatened to roll on the ground and scream if they didn’t pay. “Neighbors! Come look! I gave them a grandson, and now they want us dead!” Second Grandpa wanted to settle things quietly and paid up. Besides, he had his own son and didn’t want to raise his brother’s kids. So he let me take all three. I walked out, holding my four-year-old eldest daughter’s hand on the left, my two-year-old second daughter’s hand on the right, and carrying my not-yet-one-month-old dad on my back. We marched toward the county town. On the way, we hitched rides on donkey carts or walked. By the time we reached the town, we weren’t hungry, and we actually had more food than we started with. Kind villagers along the way stuffed food into my arms. “Lana, you’ve had it hard!” “Not hard. My good days are ahead!” Leaving the crazy Qi family, my good life was just beginning. 4 In town, I got busy renting a place, setting up a stall, and stocking goods. My four-year-old eldest daughter, Big Girl, was busy at home. She cooked for Second Girl, fed milk to my dad (Little Fatty), and brought me meals at the stall with her little legs. Watching her tiny, three-foot frame carrying a lunch box through the streets… once she tripped in her hurry. I jumped up, but she scrambled to her feet quickly. “I’m okay, Mom! The food didn’t spill!” “Silly child, I was worried about you breaking, not the food!” “Don’t worry, Mom! I’m a tough kid. The ground was just joking with me.” I wiped the dirt off her face. Just as I was about to hug her, she ran off. “Mom, I gotta go! Little brother and sister are at home!” Watching her small back disappear, my nose stung. I shoveled a few mouthfuls of rice. Such a good kid. If only she doesn’t fall for a punk later. In my past life, Big Girl was tricked by a blonde punk. She eventually divorced him, but lost everything in the process. This time, I’m going to watch her like a hawk… Six or seven years passed. My business grew from a street stall to a shop. I even bought a three-bedroom apartment in town. Life was getting better every day. Just when I was happiest, my dad started acting up… Over the months, I noticed money missing from the piggy bank. After searching the girls’ drawers, I locked my gaze on my dad. “Yes! I stole it!” “Grandma and Grandpa found me. They said I’m a Qi, and I’ll have to go back to the village eventually. I should spend the money now.” I didn’t hesitate. I slapped him so hard he flew two meters. “How much did you steal?” “Not… not much…” He teared up. “Mom, why hit me? You spent hundreds on Big Sis and Second Sis for school. Can’t I steal a few tens?” “No! You can’t! Steal a needle today, steal gold tomorrow!” I pulled out a clothes hanger and whipped him until he cried for his ancestors… 5 When I got tired, I handed the hanger to Big Girl. “Your turn.” “Mom, I don’t need this.” Big Girl took off her slipper and charged. After that, money never went missing again. But peace didn’t last. A neighbor came knocking. He said his puppy’s leg was broken. My dad stepped on it. I grabbed the hanger again and pointed it at my dad’s face. “Why did you hurt the neighbor’s dog?” “I just thought it was ugly! Called ‘Teddy’ or whatever, hideous!” “Even if it’s ugly, you can’t break its leg!” The neighbor, standing by, muttered, “Actually, he’s not ugly…” After another beating, my dad behaved for a few days. But I underestimated his creativity. Because of the dog incident, he held a grudge against the neighbor next door. When no one was looking, he scooped all their goldfish out of the tank and smashed them on the floor. This was too much! I finally understood the power of genetics. Even though I took him away from that toxic environment, the rot in his bones was hard to cure. He was becoming more like my grandfather every day—selfish and violent. This time, I didn’t beat him. I called the police. The officer looked at the seven-year-old boy, troubled. “Um, ma’am, this is a family matter.” “Intentional destruction of property is a crime!” “It’s not that serious…” “I don’t care! Arrest him! I can’t handle him anymore!” Maybe the uniform scared him, or maybe he really thought I didn’t want him anymore. He refused to leave. He knelt and apologized to me, then to the neighbor, and finally even kowtowed to the policeman. He was truly scared.

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Is your childhood memory actually real? Some people swear Tom and Jerry had a banned episode where they ended it all on train tracks. Others insist they saw a version of SpongeBob where the sky turned red and the audio cut to screaming. There are even threads discussing a sequel to Beetlejuice that never existed. I never believed in that Mandela Effect nonsense. Until last month, when someone asked me: “Do you remember the twisted version of the Thunder Titan?” In an instant, the terrifying memories of that summer came flooding back. 1 It was 2005. I was in the third grade. Back then, entertainment was scarce. For my neighbor Sam and me, our only escape was the daily after-school broadcast of the cartoon Thunder Titans. The plot was cliché—heroes beating up villains—but for us boys, it was everything. Especially for Sam. He was born with a clubfoot and spent his life wishing he could run like a superhero. That day, we were glued to the TV set as usual. We tore open a bag of Hot Cheetos, bouncing on the couch, screaming the theme song: “Thunder Titans, charge! Doom to the villains!” But right then, the screen started to glitch. Static hissed, accompanied by a screeching, dissonant noise. The familiar opening sequence didn’t play. Instead, a row of distorted text flashed on the screen: [Thunder Titans: Special Edition] I looked at Sam, confused. “Wasn’t today supposed to be the ‘Space Adventure’ episode?” “Why is it a special edition?” Sam shook his head. “Maybe they changed the schedule last minute? Who cares! Special editions are usually cooler!” The screen lit up again, but the scene was incredibly dark. The Thunder Titan appeared, but… something was wrong. He looked like he’d just been in a brutal fight. His suit was stained dark red, slick with what looked like blood. The plot was weird, too. Instead of going to space, he was walking into a dense, dark forest. His helmet was cracked. Blood-red tears were streaming from his eyes, and low, guttural sobbing came from the speakers. The antenna on his back was flashing a red warning light. He was crying. The Thunder Titan is a robot. How can a robot cry? The whole vibe was deeply unsettling. “This art style is so weird…” I whispered to Sam. Sam grabbed my arm, his grip tight. He pointed at the screen. “Look at his body!” I looked closer. The Thunder Titan’s body was beginning to twist. His limbs bent at impossible angles, contorting like a writhing worm. The camera zoomed in for a close-up! “That’s not right!” “That’s not the Thunder Titan!” “Luke, change the channel!” Sam was scared now. He grabbed the remote. But just then, the Thunder Titan on TV made a sickening crack sound. His head rotated 180 degrees, looking straight at us. His mouth split open, stretching into a horrifying, ear-to-ear grin. “Join us…” “Come play with us…” The voice wasn’t his usual heroic baritone. It was heavy, raspy, and seemed to float towards us from every corner of the room. Then, he reached out a twisted hand, walking toward the screen. The TV speakers filled with mournful wailing. Sam and I screamed at the same time. Sam mashed the power button, killing the TV. 2 The screen went black. The “wrong” Thunder Titan was gone. Sam was shaking. “What the hell was that?” “Why did the Thunder Titan look like that?” I shook my head. “maybe the station played the wrong tape? Like a horror movie by mistake?” Building up our courage, we turned the TV back on to check. Thunder Titans was over. It was just commercials now. Sam said, “That was too scary. Tomorrow at school, let’s ask the others. Someone else must have seen this ‘Special Episode’.” I nodded. Seeing the sky getting dark, I grabbed my backpack and went home. The next morning, as soon as we got to school, we asked every kid we knew. But what sent a chill down my spine was their answer. No one had seen a “Special Edition.” Yesterday’s episode was the Space Adventure, just like the schedule said. “You guys probably tuned into the wrong channel. Since when is Thunder Titans a horror show?” My desk mate, Leo, laughed at us. Sam and I looked at each other, unable to explain it. After the second period, we went to the corner store near the school to look at the Thunder Titans sticker album. Inside, the hero was posing in his sleek armor, smiling confidently. “See, that’s the real Thunder Titan.” “What we saw yesterday must have been fake.” I relaxed a little, thinking maybe we really had just imagined it or seen a glitch. However, things were far from that simple. 3 That night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt I was standing in a pitch-black forest. In the distance, a dark figure stood with its back to me. I walked closer, and it suddenly turned around. It was the Thunder Titan. He had no facial features, just two bleeding hollows for eyes. I woke up screaming, drenched in cold sweat. The next morning, I waited in the stairwell for Sam to walk to school. But it was getting late, and he hadn’t come down. I went upstairs to knock on his door. His mom answered. She told me Sam was sick and couldn’t go to school today. “He was crying all night, talking nonsense,” she said, looking exhausted. “He kept saying the ‘Thunder Titan’ was outside the window, inviting him to play.” My heart sank. I suffered through the school day, unable to focus. My mind was filled with that nightmare and Sam’s condition. After school, I ran to check on him. Sam was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. I leaned in. “Sam, I heard you were sick. I came to see you.” Sam didn’t ignore me. He just kept staring. The TV wasn’t on. The black screen reflected his dull, lifeless face. I asked, “Sam, what are you looking at?” Sam whispered, “I saw the Thunder Titan.” “He invited me to go play inside the TV.” I interrupted him, terrified. “Sam, you had a nightmare. There is no Thunder Titan. Just rest and stop thinking crazy stuff.” Suddenly, Sam started laughing. It was a bizarre laugh. The corners of his mouth stretched almost to his ears. “He found me.” “He found me…” Terrified, I backed away. For a second, his face looked exactly like the twisted Thunder Titan on TV. “Sam, get some rest. I’ll come back tomorrow.” I grabbed my bag and ran downstairs. 4 Sam didn’t come to school for several days. His mental state was deteriorating, but the doctors couldn’t find anything physically wrong. The old ladies in the building whispered that the boy was possessed. Our homeroom teacher, Mrs. Higgins, was concerned. Knowing we were neighbors, she asked me to visit him every day after school and write a journal about it for extra credit. I didn’t care about extra credit. I just didn’t want my best friend to die. He looked worse every day, muttering nonsense in his room. At night, unable to sleep, I’d press my ear against the wall to listen to the apartment upstairs. I could hear Sam crying faintly, then laughing, then talking as if chatting with someone. I distinctly heard him say: “I’ll come find you tonight.” “Wait for me.” I don’t know when I fell asleep. In a daze, I heard the faint sound of a TV coming from my living room. I looked at the clock. 2:47 AM. “Dad, are you still up?” I called out. No answer. I put on my slippers and opened my bedroom door. The living room lights were off, and the couch was empty. But the TV was on, emitting a blinding white light. The screen was filled with jumping static, making a harsh hissing noise. A figure stood in front of the TV, back to me. It looked like Sam. I called out tentatively: “Sam?” Weird. Why would Sam be in my apartment in the middle of the night? Sam didn’t respond. His body was trembling slightly. I took a step forward and realized it wasn’t trembling. It was a weird, rhythmic twitching. Like something was controlling him. Just then, the static on the TV changed. It wasn’t random white noise anymore. It formed a face. Twisted features, hollow eye sockets, a mouth grinning to the ears. It was looking right at Sam. It was that creepy Thunder Titan! A chill shot straight to my brain. The face seemed to be laughing—a soundless, hysterical laugh. “Luke…” Sam spoke, his voice monotone. “Listen, he’s calling me to go.” He raised his arm toward the TV. His fingertips touched the screen, and the glass rippled like water. “I’m coming.” I watched in horror as his hand went into the screen, followed by his arm. The TV had become a portal, swallowing Sam whole. “Sam! Stop!” I screamed. This time, he finally reacted. He slowly turned his head. I almost threw up. Sam’s eyes had turned into two bottomless black holes. The corners of his mouth lifted, mimicking the horrific smile on the screen. “Luke…” His voice came from the TV speakers now, distorted and glitchy. “You come too. It’s nice in here…” I fell backward onto the floor, my heart hammering against my ribs. The next second, a red light flooded in from the window. I turned to look. A giant Thunder Titan, with glowing red eyes, was staring dead at me through the living room window. That thing could come out of the TV!

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The Holt family’s monthly dinner was a private affair. No outsiders allowed. Yet Ethan’s young secretary, Hope, was always the exception. I’d tolerated her presence before, when she was just a quiet shadow in the background. But tonight, my own son, Leo, handed her the menu and asked her to order. In that instant, everything felt… pointless. When we got home, I slapped the divorce papers on the table in front of Ethan. He gripped the edge of the paper, a cold sneer on his face. “All this because Hope ordered a dish? Are you serious?” “I’m serious. Sign it.” 1. “Leah, if you’re determined to make a scene, can we at least talk about the timing? I have to work late. Can’t you wait until I get back tomorrow to fight with me? I’m exhausted tonight.” Ethan sank into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. Hope stood by the door, clutching a folder, her expression a careful mask of professional neutrality. Outside, the low rumble of the Maybach’s engine was a constant hum. The house staff moved silently, cleaning, their eyes fixed on their tasks. Everything was in its proper place, running like a well-oiled machine. The only thing out of place was me, standing before Ethan, coiled and ready to strike. After a long silence, he finally opened his eyes and looked at me. “Just let it go for tonight, Leah. Please.” The moment the words left his mouth, I heard a soft, contemptuous scoff from somewhere in the villa. I knew it was one of the maids, looking down on me. I had a history of picking fights over trivial things, desperate for any proof that I mattered to him. Now, his weary concession just made me look like a shrew. A fire ignited in my chest. I grabbed the spare copy of the divorce agreement and threw it down in front of him again. “No. Sign it. Now.” Ethan’s eyes met mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths—frustration, fatigue, as if my relentless pressure was wearing him down to nothing. “Leah, if you’re angry about the ordering, I can promise you it will never happen again. And as for Leo hurting your feelings, I’ll have him apologize to you the second he wakes up tomorrow. I’ll drag him to you myself. Will that be enough to satisfy you?” Ethan never compromised. But after a quick, subtle glance from Hope, his tone had softened. A bitter laugh escaped my lips, a wave of desolation washing over me. The proud, untouchable Ethan Holt was taking cues from his secretary. We were supposed to be the perfect match—childhood sweethearts from families of equal standing. I had wanted to marry him, but his heart belonged to someone else. In the end, he couldn’t fight his family’s demands and married me. His first love left for America, heartbroken. Then fate dealt me another blow. Shortly after our wedding, my parents died, leaving me an orphan. The Holts’ grand plan of merging our families to dominate the city’s business landscape collapsed before it ever began. And for that, they resented me. I wasn’t even allowed at their monthly family dinners until I was pregnant with Leo in our third year of marriage. And even then, with a child growing inside me, I was expected to serve the entire Holt clan like a maid. But I loved Ethan, so I endured it. I swallowed my pride and accepted it all. Things only improved slightly after Leo was born. But as my son grew, he absorbed their attitude towards me. He was never close to me. And tonight, at the family dinner, he had personally handed the menu to another woman. A woman who coveted his mother’s place. I could never forget the time I was suffering from morning sickness and asked Ethan to order me something simple. The Holts had ridiculed me, their insults escalating until they were attacking my upbringing, calling me uncultured. Ethan saw it all but said nothing, just telling me to bear with it. When I tried to defend myself, he joined them, criticizing my every move. I’ve drafted and redrafted these divorce papers more times than I can count. Each disappointment was a drop in the bucket, and tonight, the bucket finally overflowed. I uncapped the pen, signed my name at the bottom, and shoved it into Ethan’s hand. “Enough talk. Sign it.” 2. His knuckles were white around the pen, as if he wanted to snap it in two. The fire in his eyes blazed hotter. “Leah, there’s a line you don’t cross. Pushing too hard always backfires. Do I really need to teach you that?” With a surge of anger, he hurled the pen. It smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces and splattering ink across the pristine paint. Hope cried out, dropping her files and covering her head. A tremor went through my own body. The temperature in the living room seemed to plummet. Shaken, Hope gathered the broken pieces of the pen and went to Ethan’s side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it gently. “Ethan, don’t be angry. It’s not good for you. Just talk to Leah.” Her soft, gentle voice seemed to instantly calm him. Before he could speak again, Leo came pattering down the stairs, barefoot and anxious. The nanny followed close behind, holding his dinosaur slippers. “Young Master, please put on your shoes. If you get sick, your mother will worry.” I watched as Leo ran right past me and straight to Hope. He circled her, checking her from head to toe before letting out a sigh of relief. “Auntie Hope, don’t be scared. I’ll protect you from now on. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Hope smiled warmly and ruffled his soft hair. “Okay, Leo. But shouldn’t you put your slippers on first? Your mommy will be worried if you get sick. Nanny, could you give me the slippers?” Only then did Leo’s gaze shift to me, his lip curling in disdain. The nanny stood awkwardly to the side, unsure how to act without offending someone. “I’ll take them,” I said, taking the slippers and crouching down in front of Leo. “Put on your shoes.” Instead, he started grabbing things off the coffee table and throwing them at me. “I don’t want you to do it!” The ashtray struck my forehead. Blood started to flow, warm and sticky. Hope rushed to find the first-aid kit, but Ethan just watched me with cold eyes. “Are you satisfied now that you’ve caused all this chaos?” He still thought I was just making a scene. And why wouldn’t he? They looked like the perfect family of three. I was the intruder. Eight years of my life, all for nothing. I calmly picked up the things he’d thrown and placed them back on the table. Ethan watched me in silence for a long time. Perhaps seeing me so defeated stirred some flicker of pity in him. He came over and tried to pull me up. “Leave it. The maids will clean it up. Just stop causing trouble.” I sat on the sofa and pushed the divorce agreement towards him again. “Can you sign it now?” “Leah!” Ethan’s voice was a raw cry of fury. He shot to his feet, glaring down at me. “You just won’t quit, will you? Fine! You want a divorce? You can forget about getting custody of Leo!” I almost died from blood loss giving birth to Leo five years ago. That’s why, no matter how cold he was to me, I poured all my love into him. When he was sick, I’d stay up all night, watching over him. Ethan knew how much Leo meant to me. He thought he could use him to control me. He was wrong. The moment Leo chose Hope, I had already let him go. “I relinquish my rights to custody. I’ll leave behind my dowry jewelry as his child support. You can rest assured, the moment this agreement is effective, I will disappear from Leo’s world completely and never return.” A dead silence fell over the room. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Leo scowled at me and shouted, “Good! I was sick of you being my mom anyway! I want Auntie Hope to be my mom!” He was only five. He couldn’t possibly understand the devastating power of those words. A dull ache spread through my chest. I doubled over, covering my face, forcing myself to swallow the grief. Ethan didn’t correct him. Instead, he turned his rage on me. “What the hell do you want, Leah? Are you happy now that you’ve torn this family apart, turning mother and son into enemies?” He swept the already cracked ashtray off the table again. After the loud crash, Leo burst into tears. He threw himself into Hope’s arms, sobbing. “Auntie Hope, I’m scared. Can you make Daddy stop being angry? He always listens to you…” Hope gently patted his back, soothing him. “Ethan, you promised me you wouldn’t get angry again. Please, just talk to her nicely.” Then she turned to me, her expression apologetic. “Ma’am, please don’t mind him. Mr. Holt is just upset. Tonight’s dinner was my fault. I shouldn’t have ordered anything. I promise I won’t attend any more of the Holt family dinners. Please, don’t fight with him anymore.” Her eyes were glistening with tears, her face a perfect portrait of someone trying to keep the peace. It made me want to vomit. My gaze shifted to Ethan. Though his anger was still simmering, he had indeed fallen silent. I suddenly started to laugh, a broken sound that was so close to a sob. “Miss Shaw, on what grounds, exactly, are you playing peacemaker between my husband and me?” “Ma’am, I—I—you’ve misunderstood! Mr. Holt and I are just colleagues! Please don’t be angry. If you don’t like me, I’ll leave the Holt family right now. I’ll quit the company. As long as you and Mr. Holt can be happy…” Ethan stared at her, his fists clenched. I saw the concern blazing in his eyes, so obvious he might as well have shouted it. I spoke deliberately. “You should know, Miss Shaw, that Ethan treats you as someone special. But if I don’t willingly give up my position as Mrs. Holt, you will never have it. If you keep interfering, I might just decide to stay. Are you sure that’s the outcome you want?” 3. In the end, amidst Hope’s choked sobs, Ethan signed the papers. I immediately called my lawyer to handle the rest. Ethan watched me, his face a cold, hard mask, as I made the arrangements. When I hung up, he couldn’t resist a final, cutting remark. “Remember this, Leah. You brought all of this on yourself today. And since I’ve signed, there’s no turning back. We have a prenup. Don’t even think about getting a single penny from me.” I carefully folded the agreement and nodded. “I understand.” Then I stood up. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to go pack.” My calm, almost gentle response seemed to smother his blazing anger, leaving it trapped and festering inside him. I knew the feeling. It was like having a ball of cotton stuck in your chest—suffocating, unbearable. For eight years, that was how he’d handled every conflict between us: with cold, silent withdrawal. As Ethan stewed, Hope cautiously approached and put a supportive hand on his arm. I pulled my gaze away and looked at Leo, his face streaked with tears. After a moment’s thought, I spoke to him. “I won’t be picking you up from school anymore. And I won’t be there to watch over you when you’re sick. You’re five years old now. It’s time you learned to tell the good people from the bad. Don’t go off with strangers just because they offer you a lollipop.” Six months ago, Ethan had an unexpected business trip and asked me to bring his luggage to the office. I’d been late once before and been harshly reprimanded for my poor choice of outfits, so the call immediately put me on edge. I carefully selected several outfits I knew he’d like and rushed them to his office as fast as I could. Because of that, I was late picking up Leo from kindergarten. He had wandered out of the school by himself and was found roaming the streets. A stranger offered him a lollipop, and he got into their car. Luckily, the person was just trying to take him to the police station. But in the time he was missing, I was frantic, searching for him like a madwoman. The Holts dispatched a legion of bodyguards. Ethan even canceled his trip and sped back from the airport. In the aftermath, I became the villain. Regardless of the facts, the entire Holt family directed their fury at me. I could have endured it—I was, after all, their designated punching bag. But from that day on, Leo began to treat me like an enemy. And that was when the last thread of my affection for him finally began to fray. “Leah, Leo is the future heir of the Holt Corporation. We don’t need an outsider like you worrying about him,” Ethan spat. “Or are you just saying all this because you’re hoping I’ll ask you to stay?” I just smiled and walked towards the bedroom without another word. I never thought that after eight years as a full-time housewife, something as simple as packing a suitcase would feel so foreign. I looked around the bedroom, at all the little touches I had personally added, and suddenly, it all seemed so dull. In the end, I only took a photo album from my vanity and two keys. Ethan was standing in the doorway, his eyes boring into me. As I walked past him, I said calmly, “Have the maids throw all my things out tomorrow.” “Don’t you dare regret this, Leah!” he roared at my back. I didn’t break my stride. I just kept walking, away from that cold, gilded cage. 4. A large part of why I loved Ethan so fiercely for so long was because he was once a beacon of light in my darkest, most insecure years. During puberty, my face was covered in acne. My parents took me to every doctor imaginable, but nothing stopped the relentless breakouts. I was already self-conscious, and the constant mockery from my classmates sent me spiraling toward depression. Ethan and I were in the same grade, but different classes. After every period, he would come to my classroom, a silent protector. If anyone dared to bully me, he’d roll up his sleeves and start a fight. He got into a lot of trouble for fighting those two years, but he never cared. He’d just clap me on the shoulder and say, “You’re my girl, Leah. I’m the only one who gets to tease you. If anyone else tries, I’ll beat them into submission.” The sound of a car horn behind me snapped me back to the present. I instinctively turned. Hope was getting out of the back of the Maybach, hurrying to catch up with me. “Ma’a—Leah. Ethan has to get back to the office for a meeting. Where are you headed? We can give you a ride.” I glanced toward the car. Ethan had rolled down the window, and our eyes met. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his lips a thin line. “Get in.” As it happened, my car was in the shop for maintenance. And while the garage was filled with luxury cars, none of them were mine. Our marital home was in the suburbs, and the only way back to the city was along a long, winding mountain road. Without much thought, I turned to get into the front passenger seat. But Hope was faster, sliding in before I could. She left the entire back seat for me and Ethan. I gave them an address and then fell silent. The atmosphere was frigid. But for the first time in a long time, he sat beside me without pulling out his phone or a file to work. I could feel his gaze on me, again and again. It wasn’t like him to hesitate. I let out a small, humorless laugh. Just before the car stopped, I finally broke the silence. “What is it you want to say, Ethan?” His brow was furrowed as he looked at the scabbed-over cut on my forehead. “Leah, if you would just admit you were wrong, I could let you see Leo once a week.” “No, thank you.” The reply was swift. I opened the door and got out. Ethan exploded. “You’re so ungrateful, Leah! The Suttons are all dead and gone! Let’s see how you survive on your own!” My greatest fear was being alone. He always knew exactly where to stick the knife. I slammed the car door and walked away quickly. But Hope chased after me, grabbing my arm. “Leah, Ethan’s just worried about you. That’s why he wanted to give you a ride. He cares about you, he really does…” Before she could finish, Ethan got out of the car, pulled her hand from my arm, and yanked her into his embrace. “Let her go!” “Ethan!” “I said, let her go!” I stood there and watched them struggle, not missing the flicker of triumph under Hope’s panicked facade. A wicked thought sparked in my mind, and I smiled. “Ethan, I’m just curious. Are you so taken with Hope because you’ve genuinely fallen for her, or is it because she’s a dead ringer for your first love, Ava?”

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