Category: English

I’ve been a ghost for ten years. A streamer found the photo I cherished most and launched a viral campaign across the internet: “#FindLiam.” When I saw him again, he was about to get married. I wanted to disappear so badly… But once I really did vanish, he ended up living a life of solitude until the bitter end. When he died, he was still clutching that half-burnt photo. 1 I died the night the psychiatric hospital caught fire. Because the building was a labyrinth, a lot of patients couldn’t make it out. We died in the flames. Since then, I’ve been haunting the hospital. At first, I had some company. Other ghosts stuck here. Later, they all faded away. I was the only one left guarding the ruins. I couldn’t stray far from the grounds, so I spent my days sitting by the window, killing time. I watched the sunset more times than I could count. Way more than forty-four times. Ten years passed like this. The hospital turned into a ruin. Weeds grew tall, thorns wrapped around the broken walls, and wild roses bloomed over the wreckage. The locals said the place was haunted. They told kids there was a female ghost who ate children, warning them to stay away or she’d snatch them. Total BS! I’ve never eaten anyone! And I definitely wouldn’t kidnap a kid! … One day, a girl showed up talking to her phone. “Hey guys, it’s your girl Chloe here. We’re at the legendary Whispering Hill Asylum. It’s been abandoned for a decade after a massive fire killed twenty-seven people. Rumor has it the youngest victim was only eighteen. The director went to jail for it. Tonight, we’re gonna see if the ghosts are real.” I leaned on her shoulder, peering at her phone. I realized what she was doing. She was livestreaming! Locals did this sometimes to make money. She shivered dramatically. “Even after ten years, you can see how intense the fire was. The walls are still black…” She walked and talked until she reached my old room. After scanning the pitch-black room, her eyes landed on a corner of the wall. Chloe crouched down and pulled a blackened tin box out of a hole in the plaster. I was stomping my feet next to her. 2 “That’s mine!” “It’s mine!” “Don’t touch it!” But she couldn’t hear me. She even opened the box. “Ah!” My secret was exposed just like that. She was the worst! She picked up the photo inside, which had been burned in half. She held it to the camera: “Look, guys! The girl in this photo is so pretty. She looks super young. I wonder if she was even eighteen.” I huffed angrily. “Don’t think calling me pretty will make me forgive you! And I was eighteen! I was an adult!” I even had a boyfriend! The comments floated across the screen: Is she the eighteen-year-old victim? Don’t touch the dead’s belongings, especially if they died young. That’s bad luck! So sad. Dying that young. I heard that hospital was run like a prison. That’s why so many didn’t escape. Wait, there’s a shoulder next to her in the photo. Black shirt. Looks like a guy. Maybe the person she liked? Psychos have crushes? Imagine being liked by a crazy person. Creepy. Seeing the comments made me sad. I wasn’t a psycho. I just… I had autism. My dad said if I stuck to the treatment, I’d get better and I could date. I could like people. I wasn’t crazy. Chloe frowned at her phone. “If you can’t speak human, get out of my stream. Calling people ‘crazy’—you look in the mirror lately? You’re the weirdos.” I decided Chloe might not be that bad. She flipped the photo over. Two words were written on the back. “Liam Ford.” Liam was my first love. Because I refused to go to school, he became my home tutor starting my junior year. He was nineteen then. My dad said he was brilliant. We went to the same high school. He was the city’s top scholar, an Ivy League student, skipped grades, and secured a spot in a top tech grad program by his junior year of college. “Let him tutor you, okay?” 3 I didn’t speak. Whether I agreed or not, he was going to be my tutor. My dad had hired many tutors before Liam. But during class, I liked to do other things—drawing or woodcarving, lost in my own world. Those tutors always quit. When Liam first arrived, I ignored him too. I assumed he’d badmouth me behind my back. Give me weird nicknames. People thought I was stupid because I didn’t talk or tattle. That’s what they all did. But he just kept lecturing in my ear, not caring if I listened. Actually, I understood most of it. After class, he pulled out some worksheets. “These cover today’s lesson. Do them if you have time. I’ll go over them tomorrow.” I didn’t do them. Not interested. I doodled all over his test paper. He said, “That’s a pretty nice frog.” It was clearly a monster! How could it be a frog?! So annoying. “Did I say something wrong?” I ignored him. He lowered his eyes and started teaching. Liam had long eyelashes. When he blinked, they looked like butterfly wings. Liam was always calm. He didn’t seem to care if I ignored him. “Did you understand this question? If not, tell me, and I’ll explain it again.” He tapped the desk with his fingertip. I ignored him. “Since you understood, let’s move to the next one.” When I didn’t understand, I’d turn my head and look at him, and he’d explain it again. I thought it was fun, so I deliberately looked at him again after he finished explaining. After five times, Liam was still chill. Weird. Didn’t he ever get mad? A month later, I spoke my first sentence to him. 4 “What is a little monster?” Why did my classmates call me that? Liam paused, then asked, “Who said that?” I didn’t tell him. “Did someone call you that?” I nodded. Then he drew a picture for me. He asked, “What is this?” “A snake eating an elephant.” Liam smiled faintly. “But most people think it’s a hat.” How silly. He said, “People always reject views that are different from their own. They think you’re different from them, so they’re prejudiced. The prejudice is the monster, not you.” “But I am different from normal people.” “You’re just… very unique. Everyone is different. It’s no big deal.” No one had ever told me these things. He asked, “Want to know the story behind this drawing?” I nodded. “Finish this worksheet, and I’ll tell you.” Fine. Liam brought me The Little Prince. I felt like I was as unique as the Little Prince. Liam was even more unique. The Little Prince lived on a planet where he could see the sunset forty-four times a day. “Liam, I want to see the sunset forty-four times a day too.” “If you get into Stanford, I’ll take you to see it.” I hesitated. I didn’t like school, and I didn’t like the people out there. But if Liam was there, maybe the outside world wouldn’t be so hateful. 5 After I got into Stanford, Liam took me there. In the school auditorium, I saw forty-four sunsets. Liam coded the program and projected it with models. He said he wouldn’t be tutoring me anymore. “Why?” “You graduated.” “Liam, I like you.” High school was over, but my like wasn’t. “You’re still young. You haven’t seen the outside world.” I understood. Liam didn’t like little monsters either. “Liam, I’m not stupid. If you don’t like me, just say it. Don’t invalidate my feelings.” I rarely spoke such long sentences. Just because I didn’t like talking didn’t mean I didn’t have my own thoughts. Liam froze. I knew a lot of people liked Liam. I could read that look in their eyes. But Liam didn’t understand my like. He didn’t know that he was the only one I let into my world. If he didn’t want to come in, then fine. I stopped talking to Liam. No matter what he said, I wouldn’t listen. If I wanted to, I could block out all external sounds and live only in my own world. When I was little, I couldn’t understand what others said, and I couldn’t come out of my world. I didn’t understand why my mom cried over me. When she left, I didn’t feel anything special. 6 Later, after long-term therapy, I learned how to step out of my world. Although I still didn’t understand complex emotions most of the time. But I knew tears meant sadness. And my mom didn’t abandon me because she didn’t want me. After meeting Liam, I learned what “like” meant. Liking meant wanting to share my world with him, wanting to be with him, doing nothing and still being happy. When I told Liam my weird thoughts, he would think seriously before responding. Even if it wasn’t the answer I wanted, I liked Liam’s answers. After Liam rejected me, when he dropped me off at my door, he asked, “Are you never going to talk to me again?” He didn’t like me anyway, so why care what I thought? But I nodded honestly. “Can’t we still be friends?” “But I like you. You don’t like me. I’ll be sad.” “If you like someone else, if you’re with someone else, I’ll be sad too.” “So, I can’t be friends with you.” Liam was silent. Just as I was about to leave, Liam grabbed my wrist. He said, “I don’t want you to be sad.” So Liam and I got together. He was the same as before, texting me every day, calling me, telling stories, taking me out to play. We rode the Ferris wheel and watched dolphins. When I was scared, he held my hand. But my dad found out and forbade me from seeing him. My dad said he was poor and dating me to scam our family’s money. I didn’t know how to explain, I just kept repeating: “No, no, no…” Liam wasn’t that kind of person. “He likes me, and I like him.” My dad said, “Do you know what like is? How could a normal person like him actually like you! He just sees you’re easy to trick! I never should have hired him as your tutor!”

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Five years in Hollywood, and I was still a nobody. Despite the resources thrown my way, I had zero heat. I was the definition of a flop. Defeated, I had no choice but to bow to my parents’ wishes and go home for an arranged marriage. My fiancé hated me. He refused to show up for the wedding rehearsal and called me instead to lay down the law. “Hello. Listen, I have someone I like. Don’t waste your time on me.” “You can go find whoever you want. I won’t interfere.” “This marriage is strictly a transaction. We divorce in one year. Get your head right, and don’t come crying to me when it’s time to sign the papers.” He laid out his rules and hung up immediately. I stood outside his study, deep in thought. Why? Because inside his study, the walls were covered in my merch. 1 I changed my name to break into the industry on my own, grinding for five years. But due to my “cold” constitution—or maybe just bad luck—I never popped off. So, I had to compromise. I agreed to the family merger. The guy was Liam Sterling. The eldest son of the Sterling empire. Cold, ruthless, a shark in a suit. My friends warned me. They said Liam had the face of a siren—dangerously attractive, making you let your guard down—but inside, he was ice. He only cared about profit. “Faye, honestly, everyone feels bad for you,” my friend said over the phone. “Marrying a heartless robot like that? You’re in for a miserable life.” I gripped my phone, silent for a long moment, before letting out a bitter laugh. After hanging up, I opened my social media backend. I went to the drafts folder and finally hit “Post” on the retirement statement I’d prepared months ago. 2 Even though I was D-list, I had a few die-hard fans. As soon as the retirement post went up, the familiar IDs flooded my DMs. Among the wall of text, a user named “Q” stood out. I knew this guy. Too well. For the past five years, every time I posted, he was the first to like and comment. He was my OG stan. He had top-tier gear, too. Every candid photo he took of me was 4K quality. He dropped serious cash on my promo campaigns, so the other dozen fans affectionately called him “Sugar Daddy Q.” I clicked on his profile. His pinned post was a fan-cam edit of me, and a video of him trying to learn my hand-dance choreography. He never showed his face, but his movements were serious, bordering on clumsy. It was cute. But what stuck with me were his comments. No flowery poetry, no cringe pick-up lines. Just one simple, stubborn sentence, every single time: I hope you’re happy today. But today, he broke character. The text box was filled with a massive paragraph. He wrote about how he stumbled upon my videos during the darkest time of his life. How a random sentence I said helped him survive a sleepless night. How his hands shook with excitement every time he saw a notification from me. In the end, he used every ounce of his courage to say: “I’m sorry if this is overstepping.” “But I want to tell you that to me, you are a light. You are the straw that saved a drowning man. You are the reason I kept going.” “For the past five years, knowing you existed made me happy.” “Nina, you are as important to me as my own life.” (Note: Nina was my stage name). I stared at the screen. I noticed typos. He must have been typing frantically, his fingers trembling, maybe even breaking down as he hit the keys. I read his essay, my eyes stinging. I typed back a genuine reply: “Thank you for five years of support and love. I hope you stay happy too. Maybe our paths will cross one day.” 3 After replying to every DM, I took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in my throat, and got ready to deactivate the account. That’s when I saw my fiancé’s name trending at #1. #LiamSterlingCryingInCar Curious, I clicked the hashtag. A ten-second video auto-played. The dim streetlights illuminated Liam’s chiseled profile. His lashes were lowered, his shoulders shaking. Tears were visibly streaming down his face. He radiated a shattering, desperate heartbreak. The comments section was in shambles. “OMG, the Demon CEO is crying? Did the sun rise in the west?” “LMAO, I thought he was possessed. That looked painful.” “Whatever possessed Mr. Sterling, please leave his body immediately…” “But seriously, what could make a cold-blooded capitalist cry like that?” People started guessing. Some said the forced marriage broke him. Some said work stress. I didn’t care. I scrolled past, disinterested, and went to deal with my agent. 4 At 2 AM, I dragged my exhausted body home. I checked my phone and saw a friend request. It was the crying man from the trending topic. The verification message was two words: “Liam Sterling.” I hesitated, checked his profile. Black avatar. Blank bio. Username “Z.” He gave off strong “do not approach” energy. Rubbing my temples, I accepted. Liam immediately sent a voice note. His tone was icy, distant. Like he was dealing with a pest he couldn’t exterminate, barely maintaining basic manners. “Miss Faye, hello. I am your fiancé, Liam Sterling.” I hate voice notes. I typed back: “Hello.” Liam didn’t care for small talk. He went straight for the jugular. “I have someone I love. I will only ever love her. So, after we marry, do not waste your time on me.” “Our marriage is a business deal. I’m fine with an open marriage. You can find whoever you want. I won’t interfere, and you won’t interfere with me.” “Faye, I heard from your father that you have a first love who is currently abroad. I travel often. I don’t mind taking you with me to create opportunities for you two to meet.” I paused. Was he serious? “You mean… you’ll be my wingman? So I can cheat on you with my ex?” Liam: “Yes. Exactly.” “I don’t want you clinging to me. It’s safer for me if you’re obsessed with someone else.” “…” I didn’t know what to say. “Okay, keep going. What else?” Liam: “Remember, this marriage lasts one year.” “One year, then we divorce. Don’t make a scene. Don’t cry and refuse to sign. It’ll be embarrassing for both families.” Me: “Sure. Don’t worry, I won’t.” Hearing my guarantee, Liam seemed to exhale. “By the way, Faye.” “We don’t need a wedding ceremony. And obviously, no marital duties in the bedroom.” “We don’t need to announce the marriage publicly. Keeping it low-key is better for both of us.” I had no objections. After listing his demands, Liam went silent for a long time. Probably checking if he missed anything. Fifteen minutes later: “That’s all for now.” “Sorry, Faye. I’m a businessman. I don’t trust verbal agreements.” “To prevent you from backing out, I’m drafting a contract. We sign it. Okay?” “It covers assets, the one-year limit, the no-sex clause, and my assistance in helping you see your ex.” Me: “Sure, Liam. Send it over.” Liam: “I’ll have it ready by tomorrow morning.” I thought for a second. “Should we meet before we get the marriage license?” Liam rejected me instantly. “No need. Waste of time. We have nothing to say to each other. See you in three days at City Hall.” Fine by me. “Okay. Sounds good.” 5 Liam was terrified I’d change my mind, so he was efficient. He emailed the digital draft at 4 AM. Then, shockingly, at 6 AM, he personally delivered the hard copy to my house. While my dad made small talk with him in the living room, my mom dragged me out of bed to brush my teeth. I hid at the top of the stairs, toothbrush in mouth, peeking at Liam. He looked exactly like my friend described. Sitting on the leather sofa, legs crossed, wearing a tailored black suit that screamed money. He had that aesthetic bone structure—cold, abstinence-vibes sexy. I could see why my dad picked him. But then, I spotted it. Peeking out from under his expensive cuff was a cheap, braided pink wristband. Electric Pink was my fandom color. So, the top-tier alpha CEO likes wearing cute pink accessories? Interesting.

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1 After I traded my luck to my brother, he was no longer the slow, simple boy I grew up with. He became sharp, clever—the respected Mr. Aston, CEO of our family’s company. And I, once the gifted child, was left with the mind of a seven-year-old, so clumsy I could barely walk without stumbling. It pained him to see me fall and hurt myself, so he brought our housekeeper’s daughter, Maya, to live with us. “You’re the same age,” he told me, a gentle smile on his face. “I know you’ll be the best of friends.” I was so happy. I ran to get my favorite teddy bear to show her. But instead of a smile, she gave me a slap that sent me sprawling to the floor. “Are you an idiot?” she hissed, her face twisted in contempt. “You have all this jewelry, and you offer me a stupid toy? Are you trying to insult me?” She snatched the bear and, with a pair of scissors, sliced it open. The soft cotton stuffing spilled onto the carpet like snow. I burst into tears and called my brother, but I’d caught him at the worst possible time. His voice was cold, sharp with stress. “I’m exhausted, Monica. It’s a stupid bear. I’ll buy you another one. Can you please just stop making a scene?” The line went dead. I stood there, lost and confused. Had he forgotten? That little bear was the vessel, the very thing that held our traded luck. … Footsteps echoed behind me. A hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back. Maya’s teeth were clenched. “You dare sneak off and call Mr. Aston? You’re asking for it!” A sharp pain exploded in my chest as her foot connected with my ribs, sending me flying into the wardrobe. My head swam. Through a haze of pain, I saw the ruined teddy bear lying beside me. I ignored everything else and scrambled to gather the tattered fabric. The bear couldn’t be broken. It couldn’t. The next second, a heavy weight crushed my hand. The pain was so intense, a scream tore from my throat. Maya ground her heel into my fingers, looking down at me with disdain. “Give me all your jewelry. A moron like you doesn’t deserve to wear it anyway.” Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I beat at her foot with my free hand, but my body was weak. To her, it was like a fly buzzing around her ankle. Just as I was about to pass out, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, grabbed Maya’s arm. “Honey, you can’t go too far! What if Mr. Aston finds out?” “He dotes on this stupid sister of his. If he finds out, we’ll both be in hot water!” Maya scowled but reluctantly lifted her foot. Then, she turned her anger on my arm, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I can’t stand her,” she spat, her face contorted with rage. “Why is her life so much better than mine? Did she really think she could fob me off with a stupid toy? No way in hell!” My face was pale with pain. I wanted to tell her the bear wasn’t a gift—it was just something to show her. My brother, Julian, had already bought her a present, an expensive designer necklace. I just hadn’t had a chance to give it to her yet. Before I could speak, Mrs. Gable was already soothing her daughter. “I know where the little idiot keeps her jewelry. I’ll get it for you, sweetie.” Maya’s eyes lit up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Show me!” She let go of me and eagerly followed her mother to my jewelry box. I lay on the floor, tears of pain streaming down my face, but I never loosened my grip on the bear’s tattered remains. Its once-plump belly was now flat and empty. Its neck was torn. The only things intact were its two shiny black button eyes. I crawled to my feet and frantically tried to stuff the cotton back inside. It can’t be broken, I thought. If the bear is broken, Julian’s luck will run out… But no matter how hard I tried, the stuffing kept falling out. It was hopeless. I hugged the ruined bear to my chest, my tears falling faster. I didn’t understand. One minute, Maya was promising to take care of me; the next, she was a monster. And I didn’t understand how my brother could have forgotten something so important. I don’t know how long I lay there. Maya, satisfied with her haul of jewels, was watching TV. Mrs. Gable came in and swept up the scattered cotton, her voice a low warning. “Not a word of this to your brother.” I was already terrified of her. I shrank back, climbed onto my bed, and hid the bear under my pillow. I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep, when I heard Julian’s tired voice from downstairs. “Monica said Maya was bullying her. Mrs. Gable, what’s going on?” He was home! I shot upright in bed. I couldn’t hear what Mrs. Gable said, but a moment later, my bedroom door opened, and Julian walked in. He had come to see me. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and frustration, but beneath it, I could see the familiar ache of concern. He sat on the edge of my bed and stroked my hair. “Monica,” he said softly, “Mrs. Gable said you were lying. That you were just lonely and missed me.” “I’m home now. Are you happy?” I grabbed his hand, biting my lip. I had to tell him about the bear. “I wasn’t lying. Maya… she took the bear and…” “Enough!” His voice was a whip crack. He yanked his hand away, his face darkening. “The bear, the bear! Who would be so childish as to cut up a stupid toy?” “Monica, are you trying to remind me that everything I have is because of you?” “I haven’t forgotten! Not for a single second! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is running this company? Have you ever heard me complain?” “I’ve already decided to hand the company over to you one day! And I’m going to find a way to fix you! You don’t need to keep reminding me!” I stared at him, my mouth agape. “That’s not what I meant, Julian…” “Do you think I wanted to trade with you? If the company hadn’t been on the verge of collapse, I never would have done it!” “If I had known it would be this exhausting, this relentless, I would have never agreed to it! I would rather have been the one to become an idiot!” His voice was shaking, his eyes red-rimmed with emotion. But I only heard one thing. Julian hadn’t forgotten. He just thought being the idiot was the better deal. He regretted it. He didn’t want to be CEO anymore. … My mind may be that of a seven-year-old, but I still remembered one very important thing. Years ago, our parents died in a car crash, leaving Julian and me alone. The company was in its infancy, and no matter how hard Julian worked, he couldn’t stop the bleeding. We were losing money, fast. One New Year’s, he took me to a temple on a mountain to pray. There, we met a strange old mystic. He told us that the Aston family’s luck was concentrated entirely in me, but I was too young to handle such a burden. He offered to perform a ritual to swap our fates. The price would be my intellect; I would slowly regress, becoming a child again. Julian, of course, refused. He yelled at the old man, grabbed my hand, and took me home. But the company continued to fail. One night, he held me and cried. “Monica, I dreamed of Dad. He called me a failure.” “What do I do? What am I supposed to do? I’m too stupid, I’m not good enough…” His last words to me that night were, “I’m sorry.” After that, the teddy bear appeared in my hands. And Julian, miraculously, turned the company around. He became a titan in the business world, a force to be reckoned with. He had warned me then, “You can lose anything, Monica, but not that bear. If anything happens to it, our family is finished.” From that day on, I never let it out of my sight. But now, he didn’t seem to care anymore. He regretted his choice. If the bear was broken… wouldn’t that be a good thing? If he wanted his old life back… then maybe I shouldn’t say anything about the bear at all. I quietly pulled my hand out from under the pillow. “Monica, you’re a child. You don’t have to worry about anything,” Julian’s voice cut through my thoughts. “But do you have any idea how tired I am? How much pressure I’m under every single day?” He was struggling to keep his emotions in check. His voice was almost a plea. “I’m only twenty-five. I can’t do everything. Please, can you just not cause any more trouble for me?” Looking at the exhaustion etched on his face, my heart ached. “I’m sorry, Julian. I won’t bother you with little things anymore.” His lips tightened, and for a moment, he looked relieved. He took my hand. Then his expression changed. He pushed up my sleeve, his eyes locking onto the dark bruises on my arm. “What is this? Who did this to you?” Before I could answer, Maya burst into the room. She snatched my hand, holding up a first-aid kit with a look of theatrical concern. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Aston. I wasn’t watching Monica closely enough today. She insisted on playing outside and took a tumble. I was just about to put some ointment on her bruises.” Julian frowned, his gaze shifting to me. “Is that true?” I sighed internally. In the past, when Mrs. Gable had hit me, I had told Julian many times. He never believed me. He always said she had been with our family for over a decade and would never do such a thing. Eventually, I just stopped trying. Besides, I really didn’t want to add to his burdens. So I nodded. “Yes. I fell.” Maya let out a sigh of relief. “Let me put some medicine on that for you, Monica.” Julian stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Take care of Monica,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “The study abroad program I promised you depends on it.” “And I have security cameras installed in the house. I check them regularly.” He was lying. I knew he never checked the cameras. If he had, he would have known long ago that Mrs. Gable was abusing me. But I didn’t call him out on it. He was so busy; it was normal for him to overlook things. But his words terrified Maya. The next morning, after Julian left for work, she and her mother tore the house apart, desperate to find the cameras. My clothes were thrown on the floor and trampled. Julian’s priceless antique vase was shattered. I huddled in a corner, my heart pounding. “Do you know where they are?” Maya snarled, glaring at me. I shook my head frantically. “No!” She didn’t believe me. She slapped me across the face. “You little bitch. You know, don’t you? You’re just waiting to tattle to Mr. Aston.” “Tell me where they are, damn it!” I fell, and the ruined bear tumbled out from where I’d hidden it in my shirt. Its two black eyes stared up at me. I reached for it, but Mrs. Gable grabbed my arm. Her smile was chilling. “Miss Monica, just tell me where the cameras are. I promise I’ll never hit you again.” She’d made that promise a hundred times before. I didn’t believe her for a second. I struggled. “I don’t know! Ask Julian!” CRACK! Another slap, so hard my head spun. Mrs. Gable’s hands were large and strong. The blow left a red mark on my neck, and my cheek began to swell. A flash of regret crossed her face—she’d hit me too hard. Julian would notice. She vented her frustration by kicking me hard in the stomach. “If Mr. Aston finds out, Maya and I are done for! And you won’t have it easy either!” She kicked me again and again, until the world went black. When I woke up, the house was spotless. I instinctively looked at my hand. The bear was still clutched in my fist. I hadn’t lost it. But looking at the tattered rag and two black buttons that used to be my round, plump teddy bear, the relief I felt was quickly swamped by a wave of despair. What was the point? The bear was already broken. Even if I protected it, it was too late. My lip trembled. I tossed the bear aside, not caring where it landed. I ran upstairs, a sharp pain in my chest, the taste of iron in my mouth. This time, Mrs. Gable had been especially vicious. In my room, I automatically reached for my phone to call Julian. But I stopped. I had promised him I wouldn’t bother him with little things anymore. He was so tired. The company was about to go public; he hadn’t been home for dinner in weeks. Perhaps it was a psychic connection. Just as I was thinking of him, he came home early. He was beaming, carrying a cake. The company had successfully gone public. “Monica, it’s all because of you,” he said, his eyes shining. “I never could have done this without you. I didn’t let Mom and Dad down. I finally made them proud.” I had never seen him so happy, not since our parents died. He cut the cake himself and gave me the piece with the biggest strawberry. “Monica, I’ll be able to spend more time with you now. Are you happy?” My eyes lit up. I took a big bite of cake. “Happy!” My enthusiasm made him smile even wider. He ruffled my hair affectionately. Across the room, Maya was clenching her fists, her jaw tight. She still hadn’t found the cameras, and it was eating away at her. But she told herself that if Julian had seen anything, he would have exploded by now. She forced a smile. “Congratulations, Mr. Aston. I guess you won’t be needing me anymore, now that you can be with Monica.” Julian cut her a slice of cake, his smile generous. “Of course we’ll still need you. You’re Mrs. Gable’s daughter. I hope you and Monica can become good friends.” In his joy, he missed the flash of mockery in her eyes. How could two people from such different worlds ever be friends? After the cake, Julian handed me a beautifully wrapped box. Inside was a stunning pearl necklace. “There’s a celebration gala tomorrow,” he said softly. “Everyone who’s anyone in this city will be there. I want you to come with me, Monica. None of this would have happened without you.” “Go pick out a new dress. Tomorrow, I’m going to introduce you to everyone.” I wrung my hands. All my new clothes had been taken by Mrs. Gable for Maya. The old ones had been cut up and thrown away. “Julian, you should go by yourself,” I said meekly. “I don’t know how to talk to people. They’ll laugh at me.” He smiled. “Who would dare laugh at you? You’re my sister.” I could feel it—Julian’s status had risen to a whole new level. Thinking of my own diminished state, a strange new emotion welled up inside me. “I don’t have any clothes! I’m not going!” I turned and ran upstairs, locking myself in my room. Downstairs, I could hear Julian’s voice drift up through the door. “What’s wrong with Monica? Where are all her clothes?” Maya’s voice was laced with false innocence. “She… she got them all dirty playing in the mud. My mom sent them to be cleaned.” Julian sighed. “I guess we’ll have to get her treatment started as soon as possible after tomorrow. She can’t go on like this.” I clamped my hands over my ears, not wanting to hear any more. The next day, Julian went to the gala by himself. Before he left, he turned on the TV to the local news channel. “Monica, I’m going to be on TV today. Since you don’t want to come, you can watch from home.” On a whim, I asked, “Julian, did you really install cameras in the house?” He glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Yes. They’re in your teddy bear’s eyes. Don’t tell anyone.” “I’ve been too busy to check them, but I will when I have time.” His assistant was calling him. He hurried out the door. After he left, I tore the house apart, but I couldn’t find the bear anywhere. I was starting to panic when Maya shoved me. “You little idiot, what are you doing? Now my mom has to clean up your mess!” I stumbled and hit the TV stand. My eyes met the two black, shiny eyes of the teddy bear, which was perched on top of the TV. I gasped with relief. I was about to grab it when Maya kicked me to the floor. Just then, Julian’s voice came from the TV. “My success today is all thanks to my sister. Even though she couldn’t be here, I’d like to dedicate this first toast to her.” I looked at the screen. Julian was raising his glass, a wide smile on his face. In front of him were countless reporters and business leaders, all fawning over him. “Mr. Aston, why isn’t your sister here today? We’d love to meet her!” someone called out. Julian’s smile faltered slightly. “She… she was injured saving my life when we were children. It affected her mind. She has the intellect of a seven-year-old and can’t handle large crowds.” “To thank her, I’ve purchased two estates in her name. I plan to live there with her and take care of her for the rest of her life.” At his words, Maya’s eyes turned red with envy. She threw herself on top of me and started slapping me, again and again. “You bitch! Why do you get to have such a good life? Why don’t I have a brother like that?” As her slaps rained down on me, someone on the TV shouted, “Mr. Aston, do you have a photo of your sister? Can you show us?” Julian’s good mood returned. He smiled. “Even better. Why don’t I turn on the security camera at home and let her say hello?” He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. The teddy bear’s eyes on top of the TV suddenly swiveled, focusing directly on me, and on Maya, who was still on top of me, slapping my face.

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I didn’t want to sit next to the school bully. But the bully’s mom begged me not to switch seats. She even held up five fingers to seal the deal. So, when the bully acted up, I slapped him. If he threw a tantrum? That was a one-way ticket to a beatdown. I literally slapped him into an Ivy League school. Then his mom wired me fifty thousand dollars. Me: “?” Wait, the hand signal meant money? I thought she was telling me to slap him five times a day. 1 I got stuck sitting next to Jax Sterling in junior year. Jax didn’t do uniforms. He had silver hair, diamond studs, and always smelled like expensive cigarettes. He was handsome, and he knew it. He was basically a walking, talking “greasy TikTok f-boy.” Absolute cringe. He rubbed his sharp jawline, puffing out his cheeks in a way he thought was cute. “Want a smoothie? Some freshman girl gave it to me. I don’t do strawberry.” I declined. “No thanks.” I was terrified that if I stuck a straw in it, I’d just suck up pure grease. I zoned out thinking about a calculus problem. Jax thought I was staring at his backpack. He immediately flicked the giant logo with his long fingers. “Gucci. Heh, nothing gets past you.” Me: “…” He made luxury brands look like knockoffs from a flea market. After gym class, he came back to his seat and deliberately lifted his shirt to wipe his sweat, flashing his eight-pack abs. Using my English textbook! I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran to the counselor’s office. The counselor practically cried. “Since Jax started sitting next to you, I haven’t lost my performance bonus once!” I didn’t care. “Ma’am, I’m here to study, not to babysit.” “Then you’ll have to talk to his parents yourself!” So, she called in Jax’s mom. 2 “It’s not that we haven’t tried talking to him, but boys that age are impossible to control. That’s why we’re counting on you!” Mrs. Sterling, a woman who clearly spent a fortune on skincare, gripped my hand. “Susie, please, you have to keep him.” She leaned into my ear, whispering pleadingly, “As long as you keep him, I’m okay with anything.” I looked down. I saw her secretly holding up five fingers. For real? I could get physical? I knew Jax came from big money, which was the only reason I’d been holding back. Now that I had a “get out of jail free” card, I wasn’t going to waste it. I gave a disclaimer: “I have a heavy hand. You won’t be heartbroken, will you?” Mrs. Sterling grinned from ear to ear. “Do whatever you see fit, Susie.” So. The next time Jax harassed me with that fake, deep ‘morning voice’— “Suuusie, want Jax to drive you home after study haaaall?” I didn’t hesitate. I raised my hand and slapped that frog voice right back down his throat. The whole class went dead silent. His minions almost jumped me. But what was I afraid of? I was licensed. I was under orders. “Clear the gravel out of your throat before you talk to me!” Jax clutched his red face. The corners of his eyes turned pink. He stared at me, stunned, for a long time. Poor little puppy. Slapped silly. I might look frail, but I can carry a propane tank up six flights of stairs without panting. When he spoke again, he was back to his normal, clean teenage voice. “Sorry, Susie. Is this better?” I gave a slap, now I had to give a treat. “You can drive me home after school.” “Okay, Susie.” Under the desk, Jax’s long legs were practically twisting into a pretzel with joy. Not just his minions, but the whole class was shook: The Dog Whisperer had entered the chat. 3 Jax never showed up for homeroom. He texted me: [Susie, do you want a King Crab feast or high tea at the Ritz?] I replied: [Breakfast burrito from the truck outside school.] That lady sold burritos at 5:30 AM and moved locations by 7:30 AM. Jax missed her completely the first day. When he showed up empty-handed during the first period, I slapped him. “I have low blood sugar, didn’t you know?” That scared Jax straight. He fixed his sleeping habits the very next day. Homeroom hadn’t even started, but at 6:30 AM, Jax was sitting at his desk waiting for me. When he saw me, he unzipped his jacket. The burrito was still warm from his body heat. I suppressed the urge to gag and ate it, looking at him yawning. “If you’re tired, forget it.” He swallowed half a yawn. “I’m not tired. I’ll buy you breakfast every day.” Since then, the school bully never missed homeroom again. 4 Jax always had to be special. On uniform days, he’d wear flashy Haute Couture. Relying on the fact that his family donated a building to the school, he acted untouchable. Jax bragged, “Susie, custom made by a master tailor. Handsome, right?” I slapped him. “It’s so ugly it hurts my eyes.” He started questioning his own taste. He changed outfits day after day. Finally, desperate, he wore the school uniform. I casually said, “Not bad.” After that, he wore that uniform until it faded, refusing to change it. I caught a cold and was coughing bad. Jax snuck out during the break to smoke. He came back smelling like an ashtray. It made me cough even harder. Next break, I followed him to the roof. I slapped the cigarette right out of his mouth. His posse was dumbfounded. “You think being Class Rep makes you a god? You dare hit the Boss?!” What was I scared of? His mom told me to do it. Jax lost face in front of his boys. But he didn’t get mad. He smiled, took the pack out of his pocket, and tossed it. As I walked downstairs alone, I heard Jax bragging to his friends: “Strict family discipline is for my own good. You guys with no one to care about you wouldn’t understand.” 5 Jax begged me to tutor him. I didn’t expect to have to start from The Big Bang. He didn’t even know middle school stuff. “How did you get into high school?” Jax was honest: “We bought my way in.” Rarely seeing him interested in learning, I took the time to make him a study guide. But he didn’t do a single problem. He bragged to his bros: “Studying is impossible. I’m just faking it to keep your sister-in-law happy.” I was so mad I rushed over and unleashed a combo of slaps! I beat him until he was red in the face, afraid to make a sound. His minions were practically kneeling: “Sister-in-law, easy! Don’t give Boss a concussion!!” I didn’t speak. I just kept slapping. I didn’t talk to Jax for the rest of the day. Jax panicked. He stayed up all night doing the problems. All wrong. Afraid of wasting my time, he hired private Ivy League tutors. He finally shot up from dead last to the middle of the pack. Only then did I look him in the eye. When he heard my goal was the local Top Tier University, Jax was curious. “You have the grades, why not shoot for an Ivy out of state?” “None of your business.” I couldn’t be bothered to tell him I was staying local to take care of my paralyzed mom. But Jax overthought it. “Is Wifey staying here for me?” He got himself all fired up. “I will work hard to get into the same college as Wifey!” Me: “…” Idiot.

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I transmigrated into a spicy romance novel as the hot, young stepmom. I didn’t expect my sworn enemy to transmigrate too. He ended up as my sleeping husband. The thought of cuckolding my enemy thrilled me. That night, I leaned against the doorframe in a silk slip dress: “Hubby, I’m going to tuck the kid into bed. Don’t wait up.” My enemy shot up in bed: “Don’t you dare!” 1 “Dad.” The male lead, Roman, walked in wearing his varsity jacket and slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He greeted Ryan with a voice like ice. Ryan sat in the living room, his face even darker than Roman’s. I was the only one in the room grinning. I bent slightly to pour tea, using the opportunity to check out Roman as he changed his shoes in the entryway. Tall, long legs, full of youthful energy, and devastatingly handsome. The corners of my mouth crept higher and higher. Roman seemed to sense my gaze, his deep, dark eyes turning toward me. Ryan suddenly stood up, blocking the line of sight between us. “What are you looking at your mother for? Go to your room and do your homework!” Roman didn’t speak, just stared at him coldly. If this were a cultivation novel, I’m pretty sure they’d be shooting eye-daggers at each other. After a tense standoff, Roman let out a low laugh. “Fine.” He went up to the second floor but didn’t go straight to his room. Instead, he leaned against the railing, looking down at me. “Stepmom.” His tone carried a hint of teasing flirtation. “Bring me a glass of milk later, okay?” “Huh?” Being addressed by the male lead for the first time made me nervous. “Sure, I’ll bring it up in a bit.” Ryan looked even more pissed off. “Mom is Mom! What the hell is ‘Stepmom’? Where did you learn that sleazy way of addressing her? Call her Mom!” Roman ignored him and sauntered back to his bedroom with that lazy, arrogant swagger. “Pfft—hahahaha.” I clutched my stomach, laughing so hard I almost fell over. “There is justice in this world! Ryan, I never thought I’d see the day you’d be this helplessly furious! Hahahaha!” 2 Ryan is my sworn enemy. We transmigrated into this book together. He aged ten years, now 37, and gained a 17-year-old son. Great son, really. Very filial. Prays for his dad to die every day. I, on the other hand, am his young, beautiful wife. The kid’s stepmom. According to the plot, Ryan is responsible for being on business trips all year round, working hard to support the family. When he comes home, he’s exhausted, collapses into bed, and snores away. Roman and I could be cooking in the kitchen, the living room, or right next to him, cooking until we don’t know which way is up, and he wouldn’t wake up. Currently, since the male lead is still a minor, we are just in the “secret crushing” phase. 3 I was curled up on the sofa, clutching my stomach and gasping for air from laughing so hard. Ryan walked over with a face like thunder, reaching out to pull the strap of my slip dress back onto my shoulder. “Can’t you pay attention to your image in front of the kid?” “How am I not paying attention to my image?” I retorted. “Did you have to wear this silk slip? When you bent over to pour tea, your chest was…” He stammered for a while, his own face turning red first. “Couldn’t you at least… wear a bra?” “…Dammit, I did!” I stood up, grabbed his arm, and dragged him toward the bedroom. “What are you doing?” Ryan struggled symbolically, his words stiff. “You really think of yourself as my wife? Seduction won’t work on me. I’m not fulfilling any marital duties with you!” That’s what he said, but his feet were moving faster than mine. I dragged him into the walk-in closet, flung open all the wardrobe doors, turned to him and asked, “You tell me, which one is appropriate?” The closet was filled exclusively with low-cut, super-short silk slip dresses. The occasional “outdoor” outfits were all skin-tight, low-cut numbers with garter belts. Basically, clothes no normal person would wear outside. Pure sleaze. Ryan froze, his face turning crimson. I wasn’t done with him. I yanked open a drawer, grabbed a handful of colorful fabric scraps, and threw them at his face like confetti. He examined one puzzledly. Narrow front, wide back, just a few strings. You couldn’t even tell what shape it was supposed to be. “What are these?” He picked up a pendant that looked like an earring. “Underwear! Didn’t you say I wasn’t wearing any?” I grabbed another handful and threw it at his head. “The house is full of this stuff that’s basically wearing nothing. What do you want me to do, huh?” “You wear this kind?” “Ugh—” He dropped the fabric like it burned him. He slammed a hand over his nose and spun around, turning his back to me. His voice was thick when he spoke. “I… I get it. I’ll buy you new ones tomorrow. Just don’t go out for now.” I picked up a piece of fabric from the floor and handed it to him. “Here.” He turned his body further away, hiding his face. “What for?” “Your nosebleed is dripping on the floor. Plug it.” 4 “Tilt your head back a bit.” Ryan sat on the bed while I stood next to him holding tissues, wiping his nosebleed. But the more I wiped, the more it bled. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. The blood flowed backward… “Please stop wiping. If you keep going, I’m going to die of blood loss. Can you just stay away from me?” he groaned, sounding broken. “Like I want to wipe it.” I tossed the tissue onto the bed and turned to heat up milk for Roman. 5 “Roman?” I knocked on the bedroom door. “Come in.” Roman’s voice sounded breathless from inside. I pushed the door open gently. Roman was leaning against the headboard smoking, looking satisfied. The room smelled… post-coital. There were wads of tissues next to his hand, and a few scraps of fabric similar to what I’d just thrown at Ryan’s face. He was making sure I knew exactly what he’d just been doing. “Stepmom.” Our eyes met, and he gave me a predatory smile. Even with my usual boldness, this was overwhelming. I felt a little awkward. “I… I brought your milk.” “Thanks, Stepmom.” He took the glass from me, his cool fingertips brushing against the back of my hand. “No problem. Go to sleep early.” I turned to leave. “Wait.” “Hmm?” I looked back. He downed a mouthful of milk. My gaze involuntarily drifted to his bobbing Adam’s apple. “I can’t finish it. Help me drink it, Stepmom?” “Huh? I don’t really want to…” Before I could say “drink,” he pressed the glass against my lips. “Be good. Drink it.” His voice was hypnotic. “…” If I hadn’t just brought this glass in myself, I’d really suspect there was something weird in it. He poured too fast, and milk trickled down the corner of my mouth onto my chest. I protested mumbled, “Mmh, no more, it’s spilling…” BANG! The bedroom door was kicked open. Ryan stormed in, holding a down jacket, and roared at us: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!” “…” “What’s wrong, Dad?” Roman looked completely unbothered. “Stepmom is drinking my milk.” He looked down at me, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Is it good, Stepmom?” I wiped the milk from my chest and mouth, mumbling, “It’s okay.” With a question that loaded, how else was I supposed to answer? “Good my ass.” Ryan grabbed me, wrapped me in the down jacket. “Pour your own damn milk from now on. Stop ordering your mother around!” He pushed me out of the bedroom and slammed the door. We walked a few steps, then he seemed to remember something and stopped. “Wait here.” He rushed back into Roman’s room. When he came out, he was clutching a ball of fabric scraps, shoving them into my hand with a red face. “Keep your… stuff safe.” “…” I took it and stuffed it into the pocket of the down jacket. “You’re the one who should keep your son safe.” He slapped away my hand as I tried to take off the jacket. “Anyway, you are not allowed in his room alone from now on.” “?” I looked at him, baffled. “Bro, it’s summer. It’s like 100 degrees outside. You can’t expect me to wear this all the time?” “Isn’t the AC on?” He sounded self-righteous. He glanced nervously behind him. “Take it off when you get back to our bedroom. Tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll buy you new clothes.” “…?” I stared at him suspiciously, a thought suddenly popping into my head. “Ryan, you big dummy, you’re so nervous… do you like me?” “??” Ryan’s eyes widened instantly, like a cat whose tail got stepped on. “Summer Lin, what kind of fever dream are you having? “Me, like you? If I liked you, I’d be…” “Be what?” I pressed. He held it in for a long time before barking out, “I’d be your son!” I clearly didn’t believe him, pointing at the heavy jacket. “Then what’s this about?” “I just don’t want you distracting my son from his studies,” he said. “Do you even believe that yourself?” He was silent for a few seconds. “Fine, fine. I just don’t want to be cuckolded by my own son. Is that wrong?” “Let me tell you, Summer Lin,” he said with a stern face. “No one puts a green hat on me.” “NO! ONE!”

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The day Andy Blackwood tried to force me into a divorce for that actress—again—I finally gave in. His hand, holding a cigarette, paused mid-air. A half-smile, mocking and cold, played on his lips. “What’s this? So compliant this time?” he drawled. “Realized throwing tantrums gets you nowhere? Trying a new tactic, are we?” I slid the wedding band from my finger and placed it on the table between us. My voice was steady. “No. I’m just done fighting.” 1 A long silence stretched between us before Andy stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray. Leaning back against the wall, he spoke with a lazy, calculated drawl. “You know, there’s no real rush. It’s just… Lily’s career is taking off right now. And your constant harassment is becoming a real nuisance.” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I picked up the pen and, with deliberate, steady strokes, signed my name on the divorce papers. Only then did I look up. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.” Andy’s posture tensed for a fraction of a second, his thoughts hidden behind that cool facade. After a moment, he pushed himself off the wall, a new, barely perceptible edge of irritation in his voice. “Good. See that it doesn’t. Otherwise… you know the consequences.” An involuntary shiver ran down my spine. The last time he’d pushed for a divorce, I’d completely shattered. In a fit of rage and despair, I’d leaked the explicit photos Lily had sent to taunt me. But Andy had turned the tables, suing me for defamation. His fans had doxxed me, forcing me into a humiliating public apology. I remembered standing in the courtroom, listening to the verdict in his favor. Andy had watched my breakdown with the detached amusement of a spectator at a show. Then, with a raised eyebrow, he’d leaned in and whispered, “Darling, are you satisfied with the outcome?” It’s strange. The memory used to suffocate me, a crushing weight of pain and humiliation. But now, thinking back on it, I felt nothing but a cold, distant irony. As I walked out of the mansion with my suitcase in hand, I glanced down at the plane ticket. It was only then that the full weight of it hit me. I was finally letting go of the love that had brought me to my knees. 2 On a massive billboard towering over the city square, Lily was the face of a luxury lipstick brand, her smile confident and dazzling. The image merged with the memory of the spiteful girl who had clawed her way into my life, flashing her victory in my face. Andy had been right about one thing: Lily’s career was skyrocketing. The scandal with the explicit photos hadn’t hurt her. If anything, it had helped. Fans praised her for her ‘brazen honesty,’ hailing her as some kind of modern, empowered icon. But the first time I discovered Andy’s affair, it wasn’t from the tabloids. It was from Lily herself, a deliberate, vicious provocation. I had raised hell, making sure the entire Blackwood clan knew about his sordid affair. In those days, the other society wives, my supposed friends, all offered the same advice. Be gracious. Forgive and forget. Turn a blind eye. But I couldn’t. The hate was a poison in my veins. I hated Andy for his betrayal, but I hated him even more for turning me into this hysterical, screaming madwoman, while he paraded his mistress around town without a care in the world. I refused to give in. I refused to let them win. Then the paparazzi caught them checking into a hotel. The story exploded. To protect Lily’s reputation and career, Andy made a calculated move: he went public with their relationship. The tabloids splashed their fairytale romance all over the headlines: ‘The Tycoon’s Heir and the Silver Screen Starlet.’ The story broke me. I stormed into Andy’s corporate office, a woman possessed. He tried to get Lily out of there before the scene got ugly, but that only fueled my rage. I snatched an ashtray and hurled it at him, splitting his forehead open. Blood streamed down his face as I screamed that he was scum, filth from the gutter. When it was all over, his face was a cold mask. “You’re right!” he finally spat out. “I am scum! I did cheat! If you can’t handle it, then divorce me!” The word hung in the air between us, stunning us both into silence. But I was the one who broke it, my voice rising to a new, wilder pitch. “Why should I divorce you?!” I shrieked, more unhinged than ever before. “Why should I make it easy for you and that little tramp?! No, Andy. You and she can live with the titles you’ve earned: adulterer and mistress. Forever.” 3 We were at a standoff after that. Andy stopped coming home altogether. The only glimpses I had of his life were through Lily’s smug Instagram posts, each one a perfectly curated new stab to my heart. Beaten down from every side, I made a desperate, last-ditch decision to burn it all to the ground. I posted our marriage certificate online, exposing their affair for the lie it was. But before the story could even gain traction, Andy struck back. He found my mother’s specialist, a renowned doctor, and paid him an exorbitant sum to cancel his trip from Europe, effectively holding her life-saving treatment hostage. Then he gave me an ultimatum: tell the world the marriage certificate was a fake, or my mother would pay the price. When I heard the news, the blood drained from my face. I was so stunned I didn’t even register the triumphant smirk on Lily’s face as she stood beside him. My voice was a ragged, broken cry. “Andy, you know her condition is critical! You know this could kill her! How could you be so cruel?” He remained unmoved, calmly lighting another cigarette. He waited until my sobs subsided and I was nothing more than a crumpled heap on the sofa. Only then did he extinguish the flame. “Darling,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. “Don’t ever expect me to go easy on you. Now, go and clear this up. Don’t ruin her.” In that moment, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. I was drowning, a fish gasping for air on dry land, suffocating in a world of absolute despair. I couldn’t believe the man standing before me was the same one I had once loved with my entire soul. That was the day I truly decided it was over. 4 But the humiliation was far from finished. My mother couldn’t wait. I had no choice but to surrender. I went online and confessed to the world that the marriage certificate was a fake, that I was a jealous, delusional liar. To this day, the comment section of that post is a cesspool of hatred. “Damn lady, are you that desperate for a man?!” “Psycho bitch. Dare to spread rumors that my goddess is a mistress. You’ve got no shame.” “Someone slap some sense into her.” “Crowdfunding it. I’ve got five bucks.” “I’ll put in ten.” … I walked through the following days in a haze, a zombie going through the motions. I escaped into the sterile quiet of the hospital, sitting by my mother’s bedside. Perhaps she sensed my despair. Even without seeing the news, she knew something was deeply wrong. One afternoon, she took my hand and, with a heavy sigh, began to talk about the past, about Andy and me. A young love, she called it, the purest kind. In high school, Andy had been so smitten with me, yet so insecure, he’d never dared to confess. He’d just follow me home from a distance every day, my silent protector. Then came the day a group of thugs cornered me. Andy threw himself between us without a second thought. They beat him mercilessly, breaking three of his ribs, but he never let go, shielding me with his own body. After that, we fell in love. It was as natural as breathing. Back then, Andy hadn’t been a Blackwood yet. He was just the poor kid who lived with his grandmother, the ‘charity case’ who never had enough to eat. It was my mother who helped him, who treated him like a son, who even paid his tuition fees. Now, my mother’s past kindness was the weapon he was using against her. She had no idea what her daughter was enduring. I looked at her face, growing more frail each day, and thought, Just let it be. At least I still have her. At least I’m not completely alone. But fate, it seems, takes a cruel pleasure in tormenting the unfortunate. 5 When the call came from the hospital—my mother was in critical condition—I ran, frantic. But I didn’t even make it off my street. Lily’s fans were waiting for me. They’d doxxed me, found my address, and now they surrounded me, a self-righteous mob demanding justice for their idol. I couldn’t break through. Panic clawed at my throat as I tried to explain, my words lost in their jeers. No one believed me. “Pathetic. Still living in your little fantasy world, aren’t you?” “You were so tough when you were slandering our goddess. Who are you crying for now?” In the chaos, someone shoved me hard. “Shameless bitch! Apologize now!” I stumbled and fell hard onto the pavement. Someone snickered. The sharp pain in my knee was nothing compared to the crushing defeat in my soul. I gave up. Like a marionette with its strings cut, I got to my knees and began to apologize to their phone cameras, over and over again. “It was my fault. I was delusional.” “I’m so sorry. I hurt Lily. I was wrong.” “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Their crusade won, the mob finally dispersed, laughing as they walked away. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” But by the time I scrambled into a cab and raced to the hospital, it was too late. For a dizzying second, I thought I was trapped in a long nightmare. A nightmare where I would wake up and still be a little girl, safe in my mother’s arms. Before Andy. Before my life had been trampled into dust. But reality delivered its final, fatal blow. I had chosen the wrong man, and in doing so, I had missed my mother’s last moments. 6 That day, I knelt beside her bed and cried until there were no tears left, just a hollow, aching void… The nurse who had cared for my mother told me her last words. “She kept calling your name at the end,” the nurse said gently. “She said that no matter why you didn’t make it, she didn’t blame you. She just wanted you to be happy, to live a good life with your husband.” I held my mother’s cold hand, sitting numbly on the floor, unable to speak for a long, long time. The days that followed are a blur. The flight back to my hometown, the cremation, the funeral. Finally, I was sitting alone in the quiet funeral parlor. I picked up my phone and made one last call to Andy. He should at least pay his respects to the woman who had thought of him, even on her deathbed. When he answered, I realized my voice was a raw, unrecognizable croak. “My mother passed away,” I managed to say. But the voice that answered wasn’t his. It was Lily, her tone bright and carefree. “Oh, congratulations!” she chirped. “But Andy’s a little busy right now. We’re at his ultrasound appointment.” In the background, I heard Andy’s muffled voice. “Who is it?” I hung up, my hand going numb. I sat there in the silent hall all night, watching the incense burn down to ash. Then, I calmly flew back to the city. I bought a plane ticket. Liquidated my assets. And I agreed to the divorce. 7 The past was finally in the past. Sitting in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight to board, I launched my final counterattack. I was never one to go down without a fight. I packaged up the corporate intel I’d gathered and sent it straight to Andy’s biggest competitor. A moment later, a notification confirmed a very large sum of money had been deposited into my offshore account. Only then did I feel a sense of peace. Online, the storm of hate against me was still raging. On any social media platform, you could find my face photoshopped into grotesque memes. And Lily’s post, the one playing the victim, was still pinned to the top of her profile, from the day I was forced to retract my story. “LilyOfficial: The truth will always come out. You can throw all the mud you want. I’ve never been afraid of a fight!” The comments below were a chorus of sympathy. “My heart breaks for you and Andy having to deal with this psycho.” “This is what a real, strong woman looks like! The ones who use dirty tricks to ruin a girl’s reputation don’t even deserve to be called women!” “Lily is too kind. I would have sued that bitch into oblivion.” A bitter, humorless smile touched my lips. 8 Next, I bundled up every taunting message and voicemail Lily had ever sent me and forwarded them to her biggest rival in the industry. A little outsourced revenge. Just as I was about to turn off my phone for good, it rang. It was Andy. “Forgot to mention, the mandatory 30-day cooling-off period is ticking. If you’re thinking of changing your mind… it’s not out of the question. But you’ll have to do something to make me happy.” His voice was the same as always—lazy, arrogant, utterly self-assured. So certain that I could never let him go. I glanced at the boarding time on my ticket. “Got it,” I said, my voice flat. Then I hung up on him and walked onto the plane. (Andy’s POV) That was the first time Ava had ever hung up on him. Five days had passed, and Andy was still stewing. He untangled himself from Lily’s limbs, got out of bed, and pulled on a coat. He was going home to check on things. Lily wrapped her arms around him from behind, draping herself over his back. “Andy, stay a little longer,” she purred. He turned his head slightly. “Don’t say anything to Ava about the pregnancy yet.” Lily pouted. “You’re already getting a divorce. What are you so afraid of?” A flicker of irritation crossed Andy’s face. “There are still twenty-five days left. That’s not a divorce.” He pushed her away, dressed, and drove back to the house he shared with Ava. He hadn’t been back in nearly a week, and the silence was unsettling. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest, growing worse when he saw the kitchen was pristine, completely untouched. He threw open the bedroom door and started rummaging through the closets. Finally, he found what he was looking for in the trash can. A wedding ring. The day they signed the papers, Ava had placed it on the table for him. He hadn’t taken it. Deep down, he never believed she would actually go through with it. Even if she signed, she’d come crawling back sooner or later. After all, Ava loved him. Andy picked up the ring, carefully wiping the dust from its surface. He’d bought this ring when he was nineteen, working three jobs—tutoring, construction, food delivery—for three straight months to afford it. It meant everything to him, and to her. She must have dropped it in the trash by accident. 9 Andy stood up and looked at the wedding portrait hanging on the wall. Ava was twenty-two in the photo, her smile as bright as the sun. Come to think of it, Lily was only in his life because of Ava. He could never forget the Ava who had dazzled him at eighteen, the girl who lit up his bleak world. Back then, he was poor, uncivilized, a nobody. Ava had been his entire world, his only source of warmth. Then the Blackwoods had found him. He shed the label of ‘bastard’ and was reborn as an heir, a man of power and influence. And he got the girl he’d always dreamed of. But Ava changed. She lost the carefree spirit of her youth and became just like all the other society wives—prim, proper, and painfully dull. He knew, logically, that she did it for him. She came from a simple background, and to marry him, she had to fit in, to not embarrass him. So, while he was disappointed, he still loved her. Until Lily appeared. She was so much like the old Ava, a vibrant echo of the girl he’d first fallen for. It was only natural that he’d be drawn to her. The first time he’d mentioned divorce, the words had just slipped out. He’d regretted them instantly. The other times he’d brought it up were just to scare her, to make her stop being so damn difficult. Compared to other men in his circle, he was practically a saint. He only had Lily. Ava’s histrionics were completely out of proportion. She was being ungrateful. Besides, he’d never really wanted to divorce her. As long as she behaved, showed a little more tolerance, he would eventually come back to her. He always did. Andy pulled out his phone, deciding to be the bigger person and call her. Maybe smooth things over. But the call wouldn’t connect. He’d been blocked. He frowned. That couldn’t be right. In all the years of his affair with Lily, through all their worst fights, Ava had never once blocked him. Before he could figure it out, his phone rang. It was Lily. “Andy, Ava leaked our stuff to my rival’s PR team! My socials are flooded with bots, and the narrative is starting to turn against me. What do I do, Andy? I’m so scared. How can she be so vicious? Does she really want to destroy me?” Listening to her frantic sobs, Andy’s brow furrowed in annoyance. Ava was pulling the same stupid stunts again. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? He remembered the look on her face last time—pale, defeated—as she asked him how he could be so cruel to her mother. A flicker of something stirred in his chest. He thought of her mother, the woman who had been so kind to him when he was a boy. The truth was, he had just been bluffing. Even if Ava had refused to retract the statement, he would never have let the woman die. But Ava had complied. She had been good. “I know. I’ll handle it.” He hung up, in no mood to comfort Lily. He decided he would go find Ava. If she agreed to fix this mess, he’d call off the divorce. He’d even take her on that trip she’d always wanted, the one he’d promised her for their honeymoon. He’d promised, but right after the wedding, he was too busy proving himself to his family, clawing his way to the top. By the time he finally had the freedom, their relationship was in shambles. He had gone on that trip, though. With Lily. She had found out about his promise to Ava and whined until he gave in. He remembered the look on Ava’s face when she found out. A terrible, broken thing, caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. A strange tightness gripped his chest. He tried to call Ava’s mother, but the line was disconnected. Annoyed, he called Ava’s best friend. A moment later, his face paled. “What do you mean, she sold everything and emigrated?!” 10 “Impossible! She would never leave me!” Andy roared into the phone, but then he forced himself to calm down. Ava’s mother was still in the hospital. She would never abandon her mother. He immediately called the doctor’s office, but the man on the other end sounded confused. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m already back in the States.” Fury surged through Andy. “You’re back in the States? Who’s taking care of my mother-in-law?” The doctor’s tone was even more confused. “But the patient passed away last month, didn’t she?”

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In the third year of my marriage to the stoic heir of a Beijing dynasty, I got pregnant. Just as I was planning to surprise him, I received a nude photo. “I slept with your best friend.” “Honestly, it was amazing.” Before I could even process it, a barrage of bullet comments (danmu) suddenly floated before my eyes. [He didn’t sleep with her. The male lead just wants to make you jealous, to make you love him more.] [Exactly. Who told you to care about work all day and ignore our crown prince? He just wants you to give up your career, rely on him, and be inseparable from him.] [Female lead, just coax him a little. Shed a few tears and say you’re jealous, and he’ll give you his life!] I didn’t want his life. Instead, I went to the hospital. “Doctor, I don’t want the baby anymore.” 1 The bullet comments that were just persuading me went crazy: [The child is innocent! The male lead didn’t make any principled mistakes; your move is too vicious!] [Is it necessary?! The male lead just used the wrong method because he loves you too much. Why take it out on an innocent little life? It won’t kill you to go soft on him!] [How did our poor male lead end up with such a female lead? She acts like a villainess.] [Saying it again: The male lead has only slept with you. He can only get hard for you.] I ignored the comments, crumpled the form in my hand, and threw it into the trash can. Adrian stopped right in front of me. “What are you doing at the hospital?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Didn’t sleep well last night, have a bit of a headache.” After receiving that photo and message on my phone, I sat withered in the living room all night, calling him countless times, but he didn’t answer. The comments said Adrian didn’t sleep either. He swirled his red wine, listening to the pleasant ringtone, waiting for it to ring and hang up automatically, repeatedly. He was enjoying my anxiety, my pain, my madness for him. As if only this could prove I loved him. Hearing my words, the corners of Adrian’s mouth curled up in pleasure. He spoke as if granting charity: “Alright, I promise you, I won’t stay out overnight anymore.” I didn’t speak, rubbing my slightly dizzy head. Just as I was about to leave, I found Adrian staring straight at me, as if expecting something. Comments: [Quick, shed some tears! Hug him with red, aggrieved eyes and say you’re jealous, that seeing him holding another woman hurts your heart to death.] [Look how bright the male lead’s eyes are; he’s practically begging you to say it.] [If the female lead says ‘I love you’ right now, the male lead will probably faint from happiness.] I took a deep breath, pretended not to see, and continued walking. Suddenly, Adrian grabbed my hand, his face looking a bit unwell. “Vivian, don’t you have anything to say to me?” I looked him in the eye and asked, “What do you want me to say?” He got angry. “Are you a block of wood? Sometimes I really want to rip open your heart and see what’s inside.” Comments: [Female lead, I advise you to say your heart is full of him right now. It might coax him well.] Expressionless, I took out my phone, pulled up their bed photo, and held it in front of his eyes. “Adrian, what are you trying to do?” He was stunned for a moment, then his eyebrows raised. “It was just a punishment for losing Truth or Dare. If you’re jealous, in the future…” “Have you considered my feelings?” I interrupted him, my heart sour. His mood improved, his voice tinged with pleasure. “It was a prank, just a joke. Is such a big reaction necessary?” 2 On the third day after our unhappy parting, Adrian posted a photo on his Moments. My “best friend,” Mia, was pouting at him, while he looked at the camera making a peace sign. “Love a woman who gets jealous over me. Too cute.” I put down my phone and buried my head in work. After the surgery, I’d need at least two weeks of rest. I had to rush to complete these tasks. The comments were indignant: [Is the female lead sick? Still busy with work at a time like this? Does she not want her husband anymore for the sake of work?] [The male lead loves her so much, how can she be so plain? Feeling like the female lead doesn’t deserve the male lead.] [Actually, as long as the female lead admits her mistake, this will pass. Isn’t a happy family of three good? Is admitting jealousy that hard?] I nodded calmly. It is quite hard. Just then, one of Adrian’s bros called, sounding urgent. “Sister-in-law, come quick, something happened to Adrian!” Suddenly, a bottle smashed on the other end. He gasped, and the call cut off. I immediately drove to the location tagged in Adrian’s post. Just outside the private room, roaring laughter came from inside. “Adrian, it’s been so long. Will that workaholic sister-in-law really come?” “Sister-in-law simped for Adrian for twenty years before she got him. You think she won’t come?” “Well, she didn’t react to that post just now. Anyway, I don’t care. If Adrian loses, no backing out. You have to give me that East Suburb project.” The East Suburb project. I ran myself ragged for a year, going to the company even with an IV drip when I was sick with a fever, just to catch up on progress. He knew all this. Now, for a bet, he was giving it away. Through the crack in the door, Adrian sat with a dark face, staring dead at his phone, looking anxious. The moment I pushed the door open, everyone turned to look at me. Some disappointed, some surprised. Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. “You guys lost.” Keys to luxury cars, yachts, luxury watches, and more were placed on the table. A smile appeared on Adrian’s lips. “I have plenty of these things. Who cares?” “Yes, yes, you have a sister-in-law who loves you like life itself. We don’t.” “Look at you being cocky. Don’t drive sister-in-law away eventually.” Adrian’s face darkened slightly. Then, as if to prove something, he put his arm around Mia’s waist and hooked his finger at me. Comments: [Female lead, make a scene! Fight for the male lead with the supporting actress. That will give the male lead so much face in front of his bros.] [Honestly, don’t you guys think the male lead is going a bit too far? He’s married, and the female lead is pregnant.] [Upstairs, don’t talk nonsense if you don’t understand. Is this a hobby? If the female lead wasn’t so stubborn, the male lead wouldn’t use such extreme methods.] [Making our male lead pop his cherry for the first time, holding back for two months without getting the female lead.] Married for three years. Two months ago was the first time he touched me. One shot, one hit. Touching my slightly protruding belly, my hand tightened slightly. They looked at me provocatively, waiting for me to scream and go crazy, waiting for me to cry bitterly and beg him to come back. But I didn’t. I just looked at him quietly. “Adrian, how old are you? Can you stop being so childish?” 3 After half a month of cold war, as long as the client signed for this last project, the whole company’s year of work could be finalized. But on this day, Adrian brought Mia to the dinner. “Mia has already joined the company. She’s not an outsider. Let her practice with this project after it’s signed.” Mia smiled smugly at me. “Vivian, we can be besties again.” My brow throbbed. In college, Mia and I were best friends. But later I learned she approached me for Adrian. Three years into the marriage, she was a thorn between Adrian and me. Wherever she was, nothing good happened. Just as I was about to explode and tell Adrian to take her and get lost, the client arrived. I took a deep breath, put on a smiling face, and greeted the client. While drinking, I hinted for Adrian to block for me. He acted like he didn’t see, keeping a cold face the whole time. As if the client owed him money. Comments: [Ooh, the male lead is jealous. His wife smiling so happily at another man.] [Upstairs, don’t be ridiculous. That’s the client.] My expression didn’t change as I dealt with the client. Seeing I had capability and could lower my stance, the client drank two cups and said in high spirits: “President Zhou, your company’s designs this time are very innovative. I’m very optimistic. You are also a person of character. Our cooperation will make big money together this time!” I raised my glass, feeling it was secure. “Of course.” But the next second, with a gasp, Mia splashed wine on the client’s face. “I am a decent person, not an escort!” Finished, she swept her gaze over me, disdainful. I gritted my teeth hard, glared at Mia, and quickly bowed to apologize to the client, handing him tissues to wipe the stain on his face. But Adrian grabbed my hand, his face looking bad. “Vivian, you are a married woman. Don’t do such disgusting and cheap things.” The client was furious. “President Zhou, I think cooperation with your company is off.” Instantly, I felt like I fell into an ice cellar. The whole company’s busy work for a whole year, wasted. I slumped in the chair, and Mia was still making snide remarks. “Better that he left. I hate these smelly men the most. Besides, if I had a husband, I definitely wouldn’t come out to smile for others.” “Adrian, don’t be angry. Mia will always be with you.” Anger rushed to my head. I stood up and slapped Mia hard. “Get out!” Her face instantly swelled up, eyes watery, looking pitiful. “Adrian…” I went for a backhand slap, but Adrian caught my wrist. His expression softened a bit, looking straight at me. “Why hit her?” 4 After a long stare-down, I looked at him numbly. “Adrian, the project the whole company worked on for a year is gone. Seeing me go crazy, are you happy now?” He didn’t seem satisfied with my answer and asked again. “Did you hit her because of me or because of the company?” I shook off his hand, calmed my emotions, and spoke wearily. “Because of the company.” He got angry again, his voice cold. “Then spend the rest of your life with your work!” Mia came over to coax him. “Adrian, don’t be angry. It’s not worth getting sick over.” He looked at me for a long time. “Vivian, do you know why I’m close to Mia? Because she coaxes me, gets jealous for me. She relies on me like a little woman.” I just felt tired, my voice hoarse. “Then go live with her.” Adrian got even angrier, roaring: “Vivian!” I looked at him indifferently. “Adrian, what exactly do you want?” Comments scrolling: [He wants you to submit, to show weakness, to have your emotions fluctuate for him.] [Babe, he just loves you too much and feels insecure. Understand him a bit.] [The male lead looks strong but is actually fragile inside. Every day watching you stay up late working, he can only pull the covers and sulk: Why isn’t my baby coming to accompany me? Does she not love me anymore?] [Don’t you guys think the female lead is pitiful? Just because he’s insecure, he has to torture the female lead like this? Anyway, I couldn’t stand it.] Adrian looked at me, hesitating to speak, then said softly: “Think for yourself.” I ignored him, pondering. Love? Maybe before. Now I just want to escape. And whether he loves me or not, I don’t care anymore. Watching their retreating backs, I called my lawyer. “Draft a divorce agreement. I want a divorce.” “Division of property and all that, we’ll discuss in detail at the company tomorrow.”

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I hate socializing. I specifically moved to Solitude Town and bought the villa furthest back in the Solitude Estates. Number 111. But one day, the peace was broken. Many people arrived in Solitude Town. At the same time, I heard a mechanical, static-filled voice: [Solitude World Dungeon Mission: Gain Acceptance from the BOSS.] I don’t want a challenge! But the static voice returned: [Location: Solitude Estates, No. 111; Target: Aria Lane.] Wait, I’m the BOSS? 1 “Delivery!” Followed by urgent knocking. I thought I forgot to add the note “Don’t knock, just leave at the door” to my order. I checked my phone in distress. Confirmed the order again. The note “Don’t knock, just leave at the door” was written three times. I messaged the driver: [Please just leave it at the door.] The knocking didn’t stop. I reluctantly called the driver. A deep voice rang from the door and my phone simultaneously. “Ms. Lane, your delivery is here. Please come out and get it.” I tried to be polite, turning on the faucet to fake it. “I’m in the shower, just leave it at the door.” Water rushed, knocking stopped. Five minutes later, I opened the door and peeked out to grab the food. I saw a handsome guy with sharp brows and starry eyes, lean waist and long legs, leaning against a Mercedes G-Wagon. Seeing me, he flashed what he thought was a charming smile, his voice lowered like a bullfrog chorus on a summer night, which I hated. “Ms. Lane, your delivery.” Are delivery guy standards this high now? And he doesn’t understand English. While confused, a bullet screen (danmu) appeared before my eyes: [Player 8 is so hot! With that face and body, I don’t believe the BOSS won’t yield.] What hot? So annoying! I was rotting here comfortably alone, why come to conquer me? Why livestream my life? I looked at the big bag in “Player 8’s” hand with annoyance and said: “You got the wrong order. I only ordered spicy snail noodles.” Player 8 curled his lips: “Snail noodles aren’t healthy. I switched it to a seafood set for you. “There’s Australian lobster, King crab…” I rolled my eyes. The man in front of me spoke for almost 300 words without stopping, paused, then continued: “You need to take care of your body, can’t just eat junk food. I also brought some imported fruits and premium bird’s nest…” The bullet screen was going wild: [So thoughtful!] [I think he can definitely take down the big BOSS this time.] [This level is too easy.] [Ahhh! Please give me a boyfriend like this!] Ugh! What does junk food have to do with him? What kind of familiar, patronizing poser is this? People like this? Based on my good upbringing, I didn’t explode on the spot. I suppressed my anger, glancing at the big bag: “Thanks, but I’m allergic to seafood. Can’t eat it. “Is my snail noodles still there?” Player 8 wasn’t angry, continuing his oily gentle offensive: “Threw it away. Since you’re allergic to seafood, I’ll switch it to New Zealand lamb chops…” What lobster? What lamb chops? I don’t want them! I only care about my spicy snail noodles with extra fried egg and sausage that I waited an hour for! And my ice-cold Coke. Thrown away! I couldn’t pretend for another second. Slammed the door. Filed a complaint on the delivery app. The static sound buzzed again. [Player 8 failed to conquer, forcibly exited the game.] I opened the door, outside was clean, as if everything just now was a hallucination. But the complaint on the order was still there, and I was starving with no noodles. Can’t explain what happened. Don’t know how to handle it. Too lazy to handle it. Just hoping this was a hallucination from living alone too long. Sleep it off. 2 Peace had long been broken. Solitude Estates, with the lowest occupancy rate, was suddenly flooded with residents. Someone got a goose that honked all morning. The goose’s enthusiasm ignited the dogs. Geese honking, dogs barking. Driving people crazy. But I really didn’t have the energy to pick a new house. Thought I’d just endure it. I endured a long time when “Cream” first came home too. Cream is an energetic tuxedo cat. Speaking of cat. Where’s my cat? I searched the villa up and down twice, even the yard. Didn’t see Cream chasing his tail. Normally, with few people around, Cream would run out and come back himself. But the world is different now. The language of house cats is: if the owner isn’t around, treat as a stray. And the language of strays is: snooze, you lose. I forced myself to go out. There were so many people in the complex garden. They smiled at me, enthusiastically gave directions, and invited me to their homes. I was forced into social interaction. Bullet screen floated in the air again: [These players are disguising as neighbors to conquer?] [Maybe inspired by ‘distant relatives are not as good as near neighbors’.] [Doesn’t look good, look at the BOSS’s favorability, it’s negative.] [Need to look at favorability? The BOSS looks like she’s about to shatter.] [People who hate socializing see this, scalp tingling.] [Why hate socializing? I think communication between people is the most interesting.] [I say the gap between people is bigger than between people and dogs. You extroverts will never understand the pain of us introverts!] [First time seeing such a noob BOSS, kinda interesting.] This person talks trash. But luckily I found Cream. Cream, as a neutered male cat, couldn’t move his legs next to a calico. Called him, ignored. The “cat self-soothing plush balls” I hung on Cream trembled in the wind. Trembling for the calico. The calico’s owner was right there, watching everything gently. A sunny college boy. One look, full of vitality. Completely out of place with a low-energy person like me. Even so, the college boy spoke enthusiastically: “Sister, you raise this tuxedo cat so well. “So cute, plays super well with my Rue. “Sister, want to bring him to my place?” I looked down at the love-struck, 15-pound “semi-truck” Cream, and the overly beautiful calico written all over with rejection. Fell into thought. The college boy didn’t seem to notice. I think “Beyoncé’s” parents wouldn’t welcome a chubby otaku with designs on their daughter to play at their house. Unless there’s a catch. The bullet screen gossiped at this moment: [How does Player 13 have this god-tier item? Is it because he’s handsome?] [(Sweating emoji) This was exchanged with points from the last world.] [It’s in the bag, that’s a calico. BOSS can refuse, but BOSS’s cat can’t.] 3 They were right. I don’t want to interact with people. But Cream wants to interact with the calico. Even if he has no balls. Cream runs out every morning. And is brought back by the college boy at night. The college boy dressed increasingly skimpy. Return times got later and later. I looked at the boy’s clothes, the collar plunging to his navel. Speechless sigh. The boy didn’t notice, busy talking nonsense, while subtly showing off his abs. I wasn’t interested. Just felt he was squeezing my favorite time of lying in bed reading novels at night. Other players seeing the boy visit, also couldn’t wait to visit. Bringing all sorts of things. From morning to night! Even at 7 AM, someone knocked to bring me two steamed buns. No soy milk. Pure choking hazard. I looked out from the iron gate. Felt like I was in prison. And the opposite side was visiting hours. [Hahahaha, this is the most miserable BOSS I’ve ever seen.] [Empathized! Are we introverts just toys for you extroverts?] [This BOSS looks more ill-fated than me? Does she have any skills?] [None! That’s why this level is called “The Mildest Dungeon”.] Hints to leave were ignored time and again. And mocked by the bullet screen. I tried to reason with the instigator—the college boy. “Thank you for taking care of Cream these days. “Actually, you don’t need to trouble yourself bringing him back every day, he knows the way home.” The boy continued to flash his idol smile: “Sister, it’s no trouble, I’m happy.” Communication between people is sometimes difficult. Or maybe, he pretended not to understand. He kept coming. Lemon mint body wash. Like summer sunshine in novels. But I just want to crawl in the dark. And crawl some more. Don’t know whose beagle finally stopped howling at 2 AM. 4 AM, knocking again. The college boy calling me outside: “Let’s go, Sister, I’ll take you to see the sunrise. “Didn’t you post on Moments yesterday that you like this feeling of freedom the most?” Sunrise or sunset, under sudden passion, hitting it off with someone familiar, leaving immediately. Most beautiful. But I was lazy last night and didn’t shower, sporting a super greasy head. Plus sleep deprivation. Asking me to go out now? Flip the table! Impossible! Absolutely impossible! I’ve really had enough! But only dared to rage in my room. “They are so annoying! Can they all disappear!” The world went quiet instantly. Something’s wrong. I sneakily opened the door. Solitude Estates restored to solitude. Only the system voice remained: [BOSS resentment effective, players failed to conquer, forcibly exited the game.] The system read nearly two hundred numbers, until the electronic voice sounded tired. I couldn’t sleep, climbed onto the roof to watch the sunrise. The sun tore open the cage bit by bit. The world, finally clean. 4 So good. Sleeping now won’t be disturbed, right? I lived a few good days. But didn’t dare go out much. Humans nowadays have too big an imagination. Sure enough, went out today and a handsome guy feigned injury, lying at my door. I saw it was bad. Is security bad in Solitude Town? Or trying to trick me into a redemption arc heroine route? How many heroines in those stories end well? I won’t fall for this. Called the police immediately, let them handle this broken flower boy. When the police arrived, the bullet screen boiled over. [???] [No way, sir? Police in a horror game dungeon?] [Is this right?] [I’m laughing my head off.] [Please BOSS, don’t always be so unexpected.] System prompted again: [Player 250 failed to conquer, forcibly exited the game.] The bullet screen laughed even more rampantly: [Hahahahaha! What’s going on? The system treats our handsome player like this, I strongly demand a number change!] [Does it matter? Change what! He’s offline.] [You don’t understand. Live as a hero, die as a ghost hero. Die with a good reputation!] As for the later destitute young masters, handsome beggars, stray boys… I packed them all off to the police station. 5 Living alone, how can you not stay up late? Stayed up until the horizon turned white, finally felt sleepy. Finally wrapped in the quilt entering dreamland. Less than half an hour later, phone rang suddenly. Scary as the grim reaper calling. It was my distant aunt. Even less dare to answer. The thing I understand least in this life— Can’t you text on WeChat? Why must you call? After the third ring, I had to answer. My aunt’s always entitled voice came from the other side: “Aria, Auntie is coming to play in Solitude Town with your cousin recently. “Heard from your mom, you bought a house in Solitude Town. “We are family, there are so many empty rooms in the villa, let us stay for a few days.” Annoying! Why does my mom tell everyone everything! I covered the mic, muttering a wish: “Hope Auntie’s family changes their itinerary.” The bullet screen burst my bubble: [Player 26 and Player 27, those are the BOSS’s real relatives, damage immune.] [No way? Can play like this?] [Oh my god! Joker card! Is there any Asian who can refuse relatives?] [Me! I’d refuse directly! Fight and cut ties!] Envious of that personality! I want to do that too. But my mom would nag me to death! Although I hate socializing, I’ve always been a social pushover. Inexplicably becoming a BOSS felt more like a plaything of fate. I really didn’t want them to come, but didn’t dare refuse directly. Had to tell many lies. Lying requires psychological preparation. And a clear brain to ensure logic holds up. I twisted my fingers making excuses: “Auntie, really sorry, I have a business trip these days, I’ll book a hotel outside for you, it’s convenient.” Auntie scoffed: “Didn’t your mom say you don’t have a job?” Tsk, is that the point? I continued: “Just found one.” Auntie: “It’s okay, we’ll go stay first, can also help you take care of the plants in the villa, right, and your big fat cat.” [These two players are gods!] [Cream: Politeness, do you have it?] Cream’s face is a small matter now, refusing them entry is the most important. I continued finding excuses: “Cream is afraid of strangers. And it’s too remote here, transportation is inconvenient, I’ll book a hotel for you.” Auntie: “Afraid of what? Let it stay upstairs, we won’t bother it.” … Blah blah for twenty minutes. Every excuse, the other side countered. Pros at being relatives. I tried a last struggle: “But I might be on a business trip for a long time, really no one home.” Auntie: “Then you need someone to take care of the house even more.” Me: “Really no trouble, I already hired someone.” Auntie: “Why spend that money? We are family, I watched you grow up.” Here we go again. Classic rhetoric. Just watched me grow up. Occasional social exchanges, not close, but too embarrassed to fall out. Although the bullet screen was just text, I could see the schadenfreude behind it. [BOSS is anxious!] [This family card played the BOSS into a corner.] [Worthy of being relatives, shamelessness described so freshly.] [Didn’t expect to see such a realistic scene in a game stream one day!] [This dialogue is like me and my relatives, reasonably requesting to remove the camera in my room.]

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Eight years ago, they said I was a monster. A drunk driver who killed dozens of people. I tried to tell the truth, but my parents had already forged the evidence. They sacrificed me to protect my adoptive brother, Finn. In the ensuing public outrage, every gallery canceled my contracts. I begged my fiancée for help, but she refused to listen to a word of my explanation. She called me a butcher. She stood by and watched as the victims’ families severed the tendons in my right hand, ensuring I’d never hold a paintbrush again. Then, she, my parents, and my brother conspired to send me to prison for eight years. Now, I’m out. A ghost with a new name, working as a security guard in a quiet apartment complex. No one knows my past, and I’ve grown used to the calm. Until she appeared again. My former fiancée, Elara. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her jaw tight with accusation. “Noah, why did you disappear?” “Don’t you know your parents and I have been looking everywhere for you?” … I sat frozen in the security booth, my uniform a shield of anonymity. “Ma’am, I think you have the wrong person.” But Elara wouldn’t be dismissed. She lunged forward, grabbing my hand, trying to drag me out into the open. “You’re always so stubborn! It was your stubbornness eight years ago that got all those people killed! When are you going to stop?” Her voice was loud, sharp enough to cut, but it died in her throat the moment she saw my right hand. Her gaze dropped, fixing on the mangled limb. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the grotesque, crisscrossing scars. It’s been eight years. The pain is long gone. But her touch felt like a blade, threatening to slice open the old wounds. A cold sweat soaked through my shirt. The terror of that day, of the tendons being torn from my flesh, rushed back, and I began to shake uncontrollably. Elara’s voice was a raw whisper. “Noah… did it hurt?” “I’m sorry.” I didn’t answer her, but her commotion had already attracted the attention of my captain, Dave. He came running over, his face etched with concern. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Let go of him!” Before Dave could reach us, a group of students from the nearby arts university swarmed around Elara. “You’re Elara Vance, aren’t you? The most famous artist in the country right now! Could I please get your autograph?” Thanks to them, Elara let go of my hand. I scrambled back, putting as much distance between us as I could. Dave, finally understanding the scene, turned to me, his face a mask of shock. “Noah… these kids are saying you’re someone important. Who… who are you?” Before I could answer, one of the students piped up again. “I heard you’ve been looking for your fiancé, the one who went to prison. Don’t tell me it’s this security guard?” The student shot me a look of pure disdain. “Your fiancé was a genius painter. This guy is just some broken-down guard. A cripple. You must have the wrong person.” A bitter smile touched my lips. He was right. I couldn’t even hold a paintbrush anymore. I was nothing but a shadow of my former self. But Elara, who had been signing autographs, froze. Her face hardened. “Shut up,” she snapped. “This is between me and Noah. It’s none of your business.” She pushed through the crowd and walked back to me, holding out a gold-embossed invitation. I looked down. The words burned my eyes. 【Wedding Invitation: Finn & Elara】 Of course. She was marrying my adoptive brother. “Noah,” Elara’s face was a canvas of pain. “What you did eight years ago… it destroyed me. Finn was there for me through it all. He stayed by my side for eight years. I can’t let him down.” “You always said you wanted to see me in a wedding dress. I hope you’ll come.” I took the invitation and placed it on the counter beside me, turning away from it. I thought that would be the end of it. But that night, I got a call from the factory where I’d found a second job. “Noah, son. You’re a young man, a great painter once. This place is beneath you.” The old factory manager’s voice was trembling over the phone. “I’ll pay you a full month’s salary, three thousand. Just please… don’t come back.” I was stunned, but before I could ask what was happening, he had already blocked my number. A moment later, my phone rang again. It was Elara. “Noah,” her voice was heavy with exhaustion. “You shouldn’t be working as a security guard. I spoke to the factory. Come back. Your parents and I will take care of you. I have ways to get you back into the art world, you don’t have to…” I hung up. Who the hell did she think she was? Eight years ago, she refused to listen, so certain of my guilt that she let them destroy my hand as punishment. Now, without asking, without a single shred of trust or a single question about the truth, she was bulldozing her way back into my life, shattering the peace I’d fought so hard to build. Her words made me sick with anger. I sat on my dorm bed, breathing deeply, trying to calm the storm inside me. Dave saw my distress and brought me a cup of hot water. “Kid, what the hell is going on?” I knew he was bursting with questions. Dave had been good to me. When I first got out of prison, with nothing to my name and a useless hand, he’d taken pity on me and gotten me the security job. The pay was only a thousand a month, but it came with room and board. It was a lifeline. I wasn’t going to lie to him. I bought a rotisserie chicken and a bottle of cheap whiskey, and I told him everything. He listened in silence for a long time, then clapped a hand on my shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. “Forget the job. We’ll find another one. If you have nowhere to go, I’ve got a basement. It’s not much, but you can stay there for now.” The next day, as I was packing my things to move out, I found them waiting for me. The families of the victims. I don’t know how they found me, but they were blocking the entrance to the dorm. The moment they saw me, their rage ignited. “You animal! We finally found you!” “Our families are dead because of you! Why are you still alive?” They surged forward, surrounding me. I tried to speak, to explain, but a foot slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I curled into a ball on the ground, pain exploding through me as a storm of fists and clubs rained down. Warm blood seeped from my body, my few belongings scattering in the dirt. A single drop of rain hit my face. The sky, a bruised gray, finally broke, and the heavens opened up. Maybe they grew tired, or maybe it was the rain, but they eventually stopped. After a few final, spiteful kicks, they left. I lay there alone, unable to move, as the downpour washed the blood from my skin. I tried to push myself up, again and again, but each time I collapsed back into the mud. “Noah! Are you okay?” It was Dave, running toward me with an old umbrella. He helped me to my feet and loaded me onto his beat-up scooter, taking me to the hospital. But every clinic, every hospital, big or small, saw me and immediately refused to treat me. Finally, an old doctor took pity on me. He secretly slipped me a bottle of antiseptic. “Son, someone important has made some calls,” he whispered. “No one will dare treat you. Go home.” I laughed, a broken, bitter sound that turned into tears. Elara, is this your idea of helping me? It’s a cruel kind of help. Defeated, I returned to Dave’s basement. I had just collapsed onto the cot when there was a knock at the door. It was my parents, with Finn. He saw me and his eyes immediately welled up. “Brother, why are you living in a place like this? I know you still love Elara. You must be doing this to protest. Fine… I won’t marry her. I’ll give her back to you…” He trailed off, his voice catching in a sob, as if he were enduring some terrible sacrifice. It was his signature move. Anytime he wanted something from me, he’d pull this act. Because his parents had died in the car crash that saved my own, my parents felt an endless debt to him. Whenever he cried, they automatically assumed I was the bully. Sure enough, seeing his pitiful display, my father strode forward and slapped me across the face. “Stop embarrassing us! Do you think acting pathetic is going to make us feel sorry for you? Make Elara take you back? Dream on!” My mother rushed to comfort Finn, her voice cold as she addressed me. “Alright, people have already found you. If you don’t come home with us, it will look like we’re mistreating you. We can’t have anyone getting suspicious and looking into what happened back then. Let’s go!” When I didn’t move, my father took it as a challenge to his authority. He kicked me, his foot landing squarely on one of my fresh wounds. Blood soaked through my shirt. My father raised his hand to strike me again, but froze. He stared at the spreading stain, and slowly, his hand dropped. My mother’s voice softened with a hint of concern. “Noah, what happened? Where did you get these injuries?” I clenched my jaw, my body trembling with pain. Finn’s eyes darted nervously. “Mom, Dad, he must have done it to himself! He’s probably so angry he’s self-harming, like in the movies!” He wiped away a fake tear and leaned close to me. “Brother, please don’t make them worry. Don’t hurt yourself like this.” His words were earnest, but then he leaned closer, his voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Why didn’t they just beat you to death? Useless.” He pulled back, adding a few more words of feigned concern for our parents’ benefit. They bought it, of course. My father snorted. “If he wants to hurt himself, let him. Finn, you’re too kind. Let’s go. Leave him.” They turned and left with Finn, never seeing the triumphant smirk he shot me over his shoulder. After they were gone, I locked the door and, gritting my teeth against the pain, re-bandaged my wounds. I had just finished when Dave knocked and came in. He was wringing his hands, his face a picture of misery. “Noah, kid…” He paused, struggling for words. “It’s not that I don’t want you here… it’s just… some important people from the city… they came by. My kids are still young, I just can’t…” I knew what he was trying to say. I didn’t blame him. He had done more than enough. I thanked him again, and not wanting to cause him any more trouble, I packed my things and left that same night. The moment I stepped outside, Elara was there with a moving truck. Seeing her confirmed my suspicions. I frowned. “Is this fun for you, Elara? Why are you threatening innocent people?” She avoided my gaze, glancing at Dave’s house. “I didn’t want to, Noah. You forced my hand. Just come back with me peacefully. I will help you get out of this rut. Why are you fighting this?” I didn’t answer. The ride back to the city was silent and suffocating. She took me to a small apartment where my parents were already waiting on the sofa. The moment I saw them, my instinct was to turn and run, but Elara slammed the door shut behind me. “Where do you think you’re going?” my father snapped. “Haven’t you caused enough shame?” “A murderer like you should be grateful we’re giving you a place to hide,” my mother added coldly. “We know you’re not over Elara marrying Finn, but look at yourself. Do you really think someone with your record deserves her? You will stay here until after the wedding. If you go out, you report to us first, and you wear a mask!” Their words were so absurd I almost laughed. “Me? A murderer? A shame?” I began, “You of all people know what really happened…” My mother’s hand flew out, cutting me off with a sharp slap. My father shot to his feet, his face contorted with panic and rage. “Shut your mouth! If you dare say another word, I will tear it off your face!” Elara looked confused, but just then, my father’s phone rang. It was the butler. “Sir, it’s terrible! The young master has a fever, he’s collapsed!” That was all it took. Elara’s confusion vanished, replaced by alarm. She and my parents rushed out, slamming the door behind them. As I watched their retreating backs, a familiar ache spread through my chest, but it was mixed with a profound sense of relief. My phone buzzed. A text from Finn. 【See, brother? All I have to do is say the word, and they all come running back to me.】 Attached was a photo: Elara in the kitchen making soup, my parents gently tending to him with a hot drink. I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone and lay back on the bed. I had given up on them long ago. I no longer cared who held the higher place in their hearts. I hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since Elara had reappeared in my life. I was asleep almost instantly. The next day, I woke up to a searing pain. My mother was dragging me out of bed by my hair. Before I could even cry out, she was screaming. “Noah, what the hell is wrong with you? Why did you post about your return online?!” I was bewildered. “What? I was asleep all day! I didn’t do anything!” My father threw his phone at my face. I picked it up. An account, claiming to be me, had posted a new status: 【I’m back, but my fiancée is about to marry someone else.】 The post had exploded. The comments were a torrent of hate. 【A murderer thinks he has the right to a good woman like her?】 【Take a look in the mirror, you piece of scum!】 【Just die already! Why didn’t you pay for your crimes with your life? Murderer!】 “You’re still lying!” my father seethed. “You can’t stand to see your brother happy, can you? He’s getting married tomorrow! After everything he’s done for you, why have you always been like this?” Elara’s face was a mask of disappointment. “Eight years, Noah, and you haven’t changed one bit. You disgust me.” Without another word, she grabbed my arm and dragged me into a small, dark storage closet. The door slammed shut, and I heard the lock click into place. [Paywall] “Noah, Finn has been crying all day, saying he’s sorry for hurting you,” Elara’s voice came from the other side of the door. “To make sure you don’t ruin the wedding, you’re going to stay in here. You’re not going anywhere.” I pounded on the door, my voice raw with panic. “No! No! I won’t go out tomorrow, I swear! Please, let me out! I can’t be in here!” But there was no answer. I heard the front door close, and then the apartment was silent, filled only with the echoing sound of my own desperate pleas. The closet was tiny, windowless, and pitch black. In prison, I’d been bullied, locked in a toilet stall for three days without food or water until I passed out. Ever since, I’ve had severe claustrophobia. I curled into a tight ball, the wounds on my body beginning to seep blood again. Pain, fear, and the suffocating darkness swam together, my consciousness starting to fade. But my survival instinct was a cruel master, refusing to let me slip away completely. I don’t know how much time passed. It might have been the next day. I could hear the faint, festive sound of a wedding procession outside. It must be time. Elara and Finn were getting married. I felt like I couldn’t hold on any longer. But just then, a thick, acrid smoke began to seep under the door. Fire.

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During a reality show, I was asked why I broke up with my first love. The A-list actor next to me, Liam Ford, scoffed coldly. “She said her husband didn’t approve, so she couldn’t take me as her fifth lover.” Me: “…” Did I really say something that ridiculous back then?! 1 During a break from filming, my manager shoved me into a slow-living reality show. Coincidentally, my ex-boyfriend, whom I dated secretly and broke up with three years ago, was also there. During the icebreaker segment, the juicy question came up: “Why did you break up with your first love?” I kept a straight face. “It was so long ago, I can’t remember.” Beside me, Liam Ford, the movie star, glanced at me expressionlessly and let out a cold laugh. “I remember it quite clearly.” “She told me she was a ‘System User’ who had targeted the wrong capture target, and if she kept dating me, the System would punish her.” The host: “?!” The other guests: “??!!” Me: “…” The room went dead silent. The host’s eyes widened, bold enough to ask, “And then?” Liam spoke slowly, deliberately. “And then…” I shivered, feeling a chill down my spine. He smirked lazily. “And then, I roleplayed eighteen different personas to date her online, and got dumped every single time.” “The reasons included, but were not limited to:” “Allergic to my body hair.” “She’s a Monkey, I’m a Dragon, so being together would give her a sore throat.” “Complained that I was over 25 and ‘expired before opening.’” “Suddenly realized she liked girls.” “And that her husband at home didn’t approve, so she couldn’t take me as her fifth lover…” ???!!! So that’s why I had all those thirst traps sliding into my DMs every day! The clingy puppy dog calling me “Noona,” the pale jock flashing his abs, the sugar daddy throwing cash, the gloomy emo boy dancing in sheer shirts! They had me blushing every day. Turns out it was all YOU?!!! 2 The other guests were trying not to laugh, their faces turning red. I coughed guiltily. “Is it really that exaggerated? No way…” Instantly, the chill on my back intensified. I shut up. The air was dead silent, except for the scrolling comments on the live stream. [Chloe is such a clout chaser because she’s not famous.] [Right? Why is she chiming in with that exaggerated, fake expression? She’s just trying to imply she has a connection with Liam Ford.] [She should look in the mirror. Does the movie star even know her?] [No wonder her only famous roles are villains. She’s just playing herself~] [Just trying to get attention, clown behavior.] [Hahaha, Liam was probably just making stuff up, and only Chloe took it seriously.] I looked everywhere but at him, trying to act like it had nothing to do with me. In reality, I was grinding my teeth. Damn you, Liam Ford! Did you leave the house with your head up your ass today?! Amidst the chaos, the popular starlet Sarah chimed in. She pursed her lips, looking shy. “As for me, things were going well with my first love.” “I was just young and immature. We had a small fight, and I made up an excuse to break up. I hope he can forgive me.” She lowered her head bashfully after speaking. Avoiding Liam’s gaze, her cheeks flushed pink. My eyes darted between them in horror. Are you two a thing now too?! 3 Sarah and Liam had just finished filming a tragic romance drama together. Right now, the big screen was completely taken over by their CP (couple) fans. [Ahhhh! Something’s going on between them!] [Get used to it, just a little couple secretly sprinkling sugar~] [I remember Liam was the last guest announced for this show? Damn, he must have heard his wife was here and came running.] [Definitely. That Chloe girl has no tact.] [Stupid and eager, trying to butt in and ruining our shipping moment!] Me: “…” Bullying me because I can’t afford bots, huh? Besides, who wants to be associated with them?! The host smiled and asked about the current status of our first loves. I steeled myself and blurted out. “Sadly, he… died.” “Yeah, cancer.” Liam looked over in disbelief. His jawline tightened. Tsk, I said you’re dead, so stay dead. Don’t talk! I ignored his dark gaze. Amidst everyone’s sympathetic looks, I added fuel to the fire. “I went to see him before he passed. He was skin and bones. Truly died too young…” I feigned grief, wiping away non-existent tears. Actually, I let out a huge sigh of relief. Now no one can accuse me of clout chasing or claiming to be Liam’s first love, right?! Using my ex-boyfriend’s death to clear my name. Worth it!!! 4 The guests stayed overnight at the villa prepared by the production team. I was assigned a double room. With Sarah. At midnight, she was tossing and turning in bed with a full face of makeup. “Chloe unnie, what should I do?” “Do you think that person will forgive me?” “Should I buy an apology gift~” “I really didn’t mean to hurt him.” “I didn’t expect him to love me so much, to go to such lengths for me…” I responded half-heartedly. My eyes were barely staying open. My head was pounding from the noise. Seeing my voice trailing off, she flashed her phone screen in my eyes. “Chloe unnie, are you asleep?” “Chloe unnie~” AHHHH! I rubbed my hair in frustration. Girl, it’s just the two of us now, you don’t need to act!!! [Sarah is about to cry, and Chloe has zero reaction. So cold.] [Lol, people who can’t empathize with others shouldn’t be actors.] [To the people above, I hope you meet a roommate who won’t sleep at midnight and insists on talking about her ex.] [Isn’t late-night chatting normal?] [Plus, Sarah really has a problem to solve. Who is Chloe showing that face to?] [People like her deserve their first love dying. She’s bad luck.] Oh, I forgot. To attract traffic, the show livestreams for 24 hours as a pilot before the main episodes. My haters are working hard, still at it at this hour! If only I could actually hex Liam to death! Save me from this torture!!! While Sarah went to the bathroom to touch up her makeup. I made a break for it. The living room was dim, only the small light in the hallway was on. Just as I was about to grab a bottle of cold water, a voice suddenly appeared right next to me. Exploding in the darkness. “Not sleeping?” “Thinking about where to bury your first love?” I whipped around. Liam was standing behind me like a ghost. He was wearing black pajamas, collar wide open regardless of the cameras, looking lazy. Must have just showered, smelling of warm woody fragrance. Wolves in front, tigers behind! No peace anywhere!!! I snapped. “Can’t I just have insomnia?” He nodded seriously. Leaned in close, his voice bewitching. “I turned off the camera in my room.” “If you can’t sleep, you can come find me.” “You’ll fall asleep when you’re tired…” ???!!! Microphone! The live microphone isn’t off!!!! 5 Heart skipped a beat, breath hitched. Blood rushed to my head, scrambling my senses. I frantically covered his mouth. Reached for the mic at my waist. The next second, my palm felt hot. Me: ???!!! Liam Ford, you pervert! Licking me at a time like this?!!! Ewwwwww! I wanted to cry but had no tears. I silently wiped my hand on his clothes… He was suddenly in a good mood. Retracting the arm hovering near my waist, he smirked. “Don’t worry, I already turned off your mic.” Damn, playing with me? Just because I dumped you 18 times, is this necessary?! “Psycho!!!” I swore and ran. Only to be hooked by the collar and spun around. “What do you want?!” “Weren’t you kept awake by the noise?” “I have a single room. Sleep in mine.” Huh? So kind? I looked him up and down suspiciously, “Then where do you sleep?” Liam’s grin widened. “Why, feeling sorry for me? Want to invite me to your bed?” Wow, who cares about you! Go sleep on the street!!! I angrily broke free. Marched upstairs unapologetically. Slammed his door, climbed into his bed, pulled his duvet over my head. Squatter’s rights. Silence at last. The hotel bedding carried a hint of Liam’s cologne, like his unique pheromones. Occasionally overpowering the ambient smell, rushing into my nose with every breath… … Slept deeply. The duvet was yanked off, cold air rushing in. For a moment, I thought I was back in my room. Sarah’s chirping voice hovered near my head. “Brother Liam, morning! Time to wake up for missions!!!” Consciousness lagging. I groggily opened my eyes and locked gazes with Sarah, who was holding a handheld camera… ???!!!

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