Category: English

The day my acceptance letter to Harvard arrived, my sister jumped into the river, leaving behind a suicide note claiming she couldn’t handle the pressure. My parents were devastated. They tore my acceptance letter to shreds. Then, listening to a charlatan psychic, they locked me in a coffin for seven days without food or water to “purge my sister’s resentment,” all so her spirit would return on the seventh day. I screamed until my throat bled, scratched at the wood until my nails were gone. All I got in return was, “This is what you owe your sister.” I suffocated to death in that coffin. Seven days later, my sister returned, alive and well. And my parents? They lost their minds. 1 Slap. A heavy hand struck my face, instantly numbing one side. My ears rang so loudly I couldn’t hear anything for a second. My father’s face was twisted with rage, screaming as if he wanted to devour me. “How did I raise such a vain, selfish daughter? Would it kill you not to show off in front of your sister?” “Your sister jumped into the river! Are you happy now? Are you satisfied?” My mother clutched the suicide note my sister, Chloe, had left, crying as if her heart was being ripped out. The letter was full of lies. It claimed I fought with her for everything, showed off, belittled her, mocked her, humiliated her. She wrote that she was tired, that she couldn’t take my oppression anymore, so she chose to leave this world. I didn’t understand. What oppression? In this house, Chloe was the treasure. My parents believed everything she said unconditionally. They wanted to give her the best of everything. Meanwhile, I got whatever she didn’t want. We had two spare bedrooms. She took one to sleep in and the other for her walk-in closet. I was relegated to the damp, cramped storage room downstairs. In summer, I was covered in heat rash; in winter, my hands were full of chilblains. Mom always said that as the older sister, I stole too much nutrition in the womb, which made Chloe weak and sickly at birth. So I never complained. Even when my heart ached, I accommodated Chloe. But why? Just because Chloe failed her SATs, my acceptance to Harvard—earned through my own blood, sweat, and tears—became a sin? I looked at the acceptance letter, torn into confetti by my furious father, scattered like trash on the floor. It felt like a hole had been punched through my chest, cold and painful. I bent down, trying to pick up the pieces. Suddenly, Mom rushed at me like a madwoman, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me violently. “You jinx! You curse! You stole her nutrition in the womb, and now you bully her in life!” “Why wasn’t it you who died? Give me back my Chloe!” She shoved me to the floor. Through my blurred vision, I looked up at her, helpless. “Mom, I’m your daughter too.” Her eyes were bloodshot, glaring at me with pure hatred. “No, you’re not. My only daughter is Chloe. You are a disaster. I regret not strangling you at birth so you wouldn’t have the chance to harm my Chloe… my poor Chloe…” She sobbed uncontrollably, the disgust in her eyes as if I were something filthy. Dad walked over and kicked the paper scraps in front of me. “Ava, you are a murderer. You killed your sister, you killed my precious daughter. How do you have the face to go to such a good university? You should live in a garbage dump for the rest of your life to atone for your sins.” 2 They locked me in the storage room. The next day, dizzy from hunger, the door finally opened. Dad carried me out. Mom fed me seafood porridge, spoonful by spoonful. She even ran a bath for me and washed me herself, claiming I was too weak. “Mom spoke too harshly yesterday. Let me give you a good wash, then you go have a good sleep.” Her smile was stiff and forced. But my starved heart was moved. Tears streamed down my face. “Mom, I’ll be good. I’ll study hard and take care of you and Dad.” Mom murmured a vague response, looking preoccupied. After cleaning me up, she hurried me to bed. In the middle of the night, I slept fitfully. I heard faint noises, like chanting. Someone came into the room, picked me up, and placed me in a cramped space. The smell of sandalwood was overwhelming. Fear gripped me. I wanted to move, to call for Mom and Dad, but my limbs felt heavy, like I was paralyzed. Struggling with all my might, I finally opened my eyes. I met my parents’ cold gazes. And saw a wooden board sliding over my head. I looked around, realizing with horror that I was lying in a coffin. The board above me was the lid. Trembling, I tried to sit up, gripping the edge. But Dad pushed me back down by my shoulders. His eyes were manic. “The Master said Chloe left with resentment towards you. You are the cause. Only by locking you in a coffin for seven days without food or water can we purify her resentment. Only then will her soul return to see us on the seventh day.” I stared at him, unable to believe he would trust such insanity. “Dad, there are no ghosts! If Chloe is dead, she can’t come back!” Mom wiped her eyes, her tone softening. “Ava, be good. Your sister hasn’t even visited our dreams. She must be too angry with you. Just lie in the coffin for seven days. Once her soul returns to see us one last time, we’ll let you out. Mom will make it up to you.” “Mom!” I screamed, tears flowing. “Seven days without food or water? I’ll die!” “No, you won’t. I asked the Master. He cast a spell. It only purifies your soul and removes Chloe’s resentment. After seven days, you’ll be perfectly fine. Once we see Chloe one last time, fulfilling our wish, Mom will let you out immediately. I’ll make your favorite food. You can even have Chloe’s room, okay?” “Why waste breath on her? After Chloe’s seventh day, she’ll be the only one left. Everything will be hers. She’s probably laughing inside. We just ask her to lie in a coffin for seven days and she makes excuses. It’s not like we’re asking her to die. Selfish by nature. She can’t compare to Chloe.” Dad ignored me and started sliding the lid shut. I clawed at the wood, tears streaming. My limbs were weak from the sleeping pills they must have given me. The “care” they showed me earlier was all for this. All for Chloe. “No, Daddy, please! I’ll die!” The gap narrowed. Suffocating despair crushed me. “Mommy, save me! I’ll be good! Mommy…” Mom looked away, unable to watch. “Be good. Once we see your sister, Mom will make it up to you.” “A scourge lasts a thousand years. If your death could bring Chloe back, that would be your blessing,” Dad muttered. The lid slammed shut, sealing my fate. The air thinned instantly. The sleeping pills dragged me toward unconsciousness. I pushed weakly against the lid. The heavy wood didn’t budge. “Are you sure you asked the Master? Is it really safe?” Mom asked, worried. “Of course. He’s famous. It cost me twenty grand just for a few words. He guaranteed that as long as Ava stays in there for seven days, Chloe’s resentment will vanish. Her soul will return. And Ava won’t die; she’ll even be healthier.” Mom sighed in relief. “Thank God. My poor Chloe must come back.” Dad patted her shoulder. “She will. Chloe is so kind and filial. If Ava hadn’t pushed her, she wouldn’t have left us. It’s all Ava’s fault.” “Ava is narrow-minded and selfish. Letting her reflect in the coffin for seven days is good for her,” Mom agreed. I heard their voices, my heart numb with pain. The suffocating feeling in my lungs triggered a survival instinct. I slammed my head against the lid, desperate. Bang! Bang! “This damn girl still has strength after the pills. I need to get some nails.” Mom pressed down on the lid. “Hurry! If she breaks out, the spell will fail. We can’t delay Chloe’s return.” Their cold words pierced my heart like knives. I screamed, tearing my throat. “Mom, I can’t breathe! Help me!” “Stop acting, Ava! You drove your sister to death, and now you won’t even help her soul rest? It’s such a small request. How did I give birth to someone so heartless?” Dad returned with a hammer. The sound of nails being driven in echoed like a death knell. Bang. Bang. “Ava, you owe this to your sister. Behave. In seven days, you’ll be our only daughter. Everything will be yours. You won’t have to worry about Chloe stealing our love.” My voice cracked into a raspy whisper. Love? Did I ever have it? After nailing it shut, they patted the lid to ensure it was secure, then left satisfied. My tears mixed with the blood on my forehead. In the pitch-black coffin, I lost track of time. My ten fingernails broke as I scratched uselessly at the wood. I had no strength left to scream. My hands dropped. I died on the third day. My eyes were wide open. Tear tracks dried on my temples, mixed with blood. I looked like a monster. 3 That night, my parents came in. Hearing silence from the coffin, Dad scoffed. “Playing dead now? You think that will make us soft? Four more days until Chloe comes back. Behave yourself.” Mom scolded, “Ava, you committed an unforgivable sin. Seven days of reflection is a light punishment. Think about Chloe—she lost her life. You’re just lying there comfortably. Be grateful.” My spirit floated in the air, laughing bitterly. So, suffocating in a coffin is “comfort” to them. Over the next few days, they visited often. Seeing I wasn’t making noise, they relaxed. Mom smiled gently. “It’s good you thought it through. We love Chloe to make up for your bullying. You cut her clothes, broke her toys, tore her notebooks, made her fail her SATs. She only thought of suicide because you were too vicious.” I was speechless. Chloe did all those things to me. She twisted the truth, making herself the victim and me the villain. I looked down. Salty tears filled my mouth. They never believed me. Even when Chloe spread rumors about me sleeping around, hired thugs to bully me, or tried to destroy my exam ticket. I told them. But Chloe just had to cry and claim I was framing her. Then they would scream at me, beat me with hangers and belts, or lock me out in the rain all night. No matter what Chloe said, it was gospel. My explanations were lies. I endured, retreated, compromised. But I was always the outsider. Now, I was dead. Finally free from begging for their love. On the sixth day, a smell started to seep out. I sat on the coffin lid, watching my parents arrange paper effigies, game consoles, spirit money, and pretty dresses around the coffin. All Chloe’s favorite things. Mom cried, “I wonder where my Chloe is wandering. Is she cold? Hungry? Are other ghosts bullying her? She’s so delicate…” Dad hugged her. “Tomorrow is the seventh day. When she comes back, we’ll ask her what she needs and burn it for her immediately.” Mom wiped her eyes and glared at the coffin. “Ava, your sister is coming back tomorrow. Don’t make a sound. Don’t upset her.” I didn’t respond. Dad spat. “Ava, don’t be ungrateful. Playing dead? Seems you haven’t reflected enough. Fine, stay in there for half a month.” Just then, the doorbell rang. It was Mrs. Liang, the neighbor. “Hey, are you pickling something? It smells like something’s rotting. I can smell it from my house.” Dad froze, his face darkening. “There’s no smell. You’re imagining things.” He slammed the door. “What a dog nose. Saying my house smells like rot. Bad luck,” he muttered. Mom stared at the coffin, dazed. Suddenly, she got angry. “Ava, I know you’re silent on purpose to spite us. Fine. Tomorrow when we open it, let’s see if you can keep acting.” I laughed softly. Mom, I don’t need to act. I’m already dead. You’ll never have to see your disgusting daughter again. 4 In the summer heat, the smell grew worse. Neighbors hurried past holding their noses. Some knocked to ask, but my parents cursed them out. They seemed to have lost their sense of smell, joyfully awaiting Chloe’s soul. Day seven. My parents waited by the coffin early. I was curious too. How was this “Master” going to guide Chloe’s soul back? He said he’d come at midnight. But in broad daylight, the doorbell rang. Parents looked at each other and ran to open it. They froze. Standing there, biting her lip pitifully, was Chloe. The girl who supposedly jumped into a river. Seeing them, she flew into their arms like a bird returning to the nest. “Mom, Dad… I finally see you again.” Mom snapped out of her shock, face full of joy. “Chloe! Is it really you?” She touched her all over. “You’re not dead?” “Mom, it’s me. I jumped, but a kind person saved me. I was in a coma until two days ago. I came back as soon as I woke up because I knew you’d be worried.” She coughed weakly. “Mom, Dad, after coming back from death, I realized I can’t leave you. I’m so scared I won’t see you again. Don’t worry, I won’t do it again. Even if Ava bullies me, I’ll kneel and beg her, but I won’t do anything stupid.” Mom’s heart broke. She hugged Chloe like a precious jewel. “My poor daughter.” Dad wiped his eyes, comforting her while gritting his teeth. “I knew Ava was a jinx. So vicious at such a young age, driving her sister to death.” Chloe looked up with red eyes. “Where is Ava? Even though she did so many bad things, I don’t blame her. If she apologizes to me, I’ll forgive her.” Forgive? What did I do wrong to need forgiveness from a lying, vicious sister? I was suffocated in a coffin! Chloe came back alive and hopping. What about me? Did I deserve to die? She claimed she suffered, but her rosy cheeks didn’t look like someone recovering from a coma. She was lying. The suicide was just a ploy because she was jealous of my acceptance letter. Only my parents would believe her. I closed my eyes, tears falling on my ghostly hand. In this house, even my sadness was seen as dramatic. My parents exchanged a weird look. Mom hesitated. “We thought you died. A Master said if we locked Ava in a coffin for seven days to purge your resentment, your soul would return.” Chloe covered her mouth in feigned shock. “What? Then let her out! I’m back. Tomorrow is Mom’s birthday, let’s celebrate together.” Dad huffed. “She’s strong as an ox. Let her stay in there one more day. Wait until after your mom’s birthday. Don’t let her ruin the mood.” The last shred of hope in my heart vanished. I smiled bitterly. What was I expecting? Even when Chloe was “dead,” I was just a sacrifice. Now that she’s alive, I’m even less than nothing. My presence is just bad luck.

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My philosophy is simple: scorched earth. When the golden boy of campus wanted to shove my face in a septic tank to fish out his girlfriend’s diamond ring, I blew the whole thing sky-high with a quarter stick of dynamite. When some rich prick cornered me on a rooftop, ready to play king of the hill, I wrapped my arms around him and took us both for a swan dive. After that little swan dive, I woke up here, inside the dog-eared pages of some old, tragic romance novel, cast as the long-suffering male lead. A System, buzzing in my head like a fluorescent light, told me all I had to do was play my part. Live through the story’s greatest hits of agony, let the female lead dig out my heart and my kidney for another man. Once her Regret Value hit 100% and she started down that long, groveling road of redemption, I’d get my life back. Plus a hundred-million-dollar bonus. The System’s voice oozed smarmy confidence in my ear. “Listen, kid. The others who came before you? They all tried to fight it. Tried to run. Every single one of them got erased by this world. I’m telling you, don’t be an idiot.” It paused, clearly expecting me to break down. Instead, a grin spread across my face. I couldn’t nod fast enough. “Don’t worry,” I said. “An offer this good? Why would I ever run?” After all, making people regret things? That’s my specialty. 1 So when the female lead, Victoria, demanded I give my kidney to her one true love, the ghost of her first love, I injected a vial of HIV into my own veins without a moment’s hesitation. Sure enough, just as they were wheeling me out of the OR, I heard Victoria’s furious roar echo down the hall. “Leo, are you insane? Why didn’t you tell me you were HIV-positive?” I glanced up. Floating over her head, a shimmering meter labeled REGRET spiked to 40%. I shot a wicked grin at the System. “Who ever said her regret had to be the romantic, I-miss-you-so-much kind?” I thought. “See? Right now, she definitely regrets asking for my kidney.” The System was practically having an aneurysm. “You’re supposed to be the one suffering, not her!” I ignored it, turning to the furious Victoria with a face full of manufactured sincerity. “You never asked,” I said simply. “What? Is Evan not happy with this one? I can give him the other one, too.” I made a show of trying to sit up. The next thing I knew, Victoria had me by the collar, pinning me to the bed. “Leo, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?” she seethed. “This is your pathetic way of getting back at him! Where did you get HIV? Were you cheating on me?” Ah. So, the idea of me being unfaithful was more infuriating than the fact that I’d just given her precious Evan a diseased organ. Good to know. Tears welled in my eyes on command. “Victoria, how could you say that? The only reason I have this… this disease… is from that time I sold plasma to pay for your medical bills. You can’t possibly question my loyalty to you.” The mention of her amnesia made her pause. Her expression flickered. According to the novel’s script, the original Leo had found a gravely ill Victoria with no memory and mountains of debt. To save her, he’d done everything—participated in shady medical trials, sold his plasma at those sketchy clinics down on the south side, nearly sold a kidney even back then. He was the picture of devotion. Remembering that time, Victoria’s grip on my collar slowly loosened, her brow furrowed in thought. “Even so, you should have told me. Evan’s health was already so fragile. Now he has this because of you. You need to go apologize to him.” I nodded immediately. “Okay. I’ll go.” Victoria looked taken aback, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. Before this, Evan and I were like oil and water. Every encounter was a barely-veiled declaration of war. Her face hardened. “You’d better mean it.” The moment she was gone, the System exploded in my head, screeching like a groundhog. It raged about me going off-script. I scoffed. “What do you mean, off-script? Did I give him the kidney? Yes. Does she regret it? Yes. Has the world erased me? No. So what, exactly, is your problem?” My logic seemed to stump it. The System had to admit that I hadn’t received any kind of warning or punishment. When I first got here, I’d asked what would happen if I didn’t follow the plot. The System had just laughed. Then, a massive jolt of electricity had coursed through my body. I convulsed, my heart feeling like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest. “If you deviate,” it had said, “the rules of this world will punish you. A hundred times worse than that.” Clutching my chest, I’d cursed the System out, but I knew I had to play within the rules. A slow smile spread across my face now as I got up and dressed. “No punishment means it’s allowed by the rules,” I said. “And if I remember correctly, the apology is a key scene, isn’t it?” The System was getting scared of me. “What are you going to do now?” My smile was pure poison. “She regrets making me donate the kidney. Now, it’s time to make her regret making me apologize.” When I pushed open the door to Evan’s private room, he was nestled in Victoria’s arms, sobbing quietly. The moment he saw me, his whole body trembled. “Victoria, get him out of here! I don’t want to see him…” Victoria rubbed his back, her voice softer and more tender than I had ever heard it. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “He’s here to apologize.” When she looked up at me, her gaze turned arctic. “Well? Get over here.” I walked forward and gave a perfunctory bow. “I’m sorry.” “That’s it? That’s his apology?” Evan lifted his head from her shoulder, his face a mask of indignation. “Victoria, he gave me this… this filthy disease. If this gets out, my acting career is over. I’ll never be a star. And all I get is a simple ‘I’m sorry’?” Victoria frowned. “Then what do you want…” “I’ll give you an apology you can be satisfied with,” I cut in. “Just give me two hours.” I turned and walked out before they could respond. Two hours later, the quiet hospital grounds turned into a circus. I’d brought with me a dozen protestors I hired off Craigslist, complete with a massive, bright red banner. In bold yellow letters, it read: 【I’M SORRY, EVAN PIERCE! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE DONATED MY HIV-INFECTED KIDNEY TO YOU! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!】 One of the women I hired, a pro with a bullhorn, aimed it directly at Evan’s hospital window and let loose. “MR. EVAN PIERCE! WE’RE SOOOOORRY!” “MR. LEO WANTS YOU TO KNOW HE WAS WROOOONG!” “YOU’RE A BIG MAN, A GENEROUS MAN! PLEASE FIND IT IN YOUR HEART TO FORGIVE HIM FOR GIVING YOU AN HIV-INFECTED KIDNEY!” “HE TOLD YOU HE DIDN’T WANT TO DONATE, BUT YOU INSISTED! HE FINALLY AGREED, SO PLEASE DON’T LET THIS UPSET YOU! THINK OF YOUR HEALTH!” All up and down the hospital wing, windows slid open. Curious faces peered out, their gazes zeroing in on Evan’s room. The System screamed again. “This is not how the apology was supposed to go!” “There are different types of apologies?” I sneered. “He got the words ‘I’m sorry,’ didn’t he?” Just then, Victoria stormed out of the building. She snatched the bullhorn and slammed it onto the pavement, her voice a low, furious hiss. “Leo, have you lost your mind? Evan’s an actor! Are you trying to destroy him?” I watched the Regret Value above her head climb to a neat 50%. I blinked innocently. “But I just wanted to show him the depths of my sincerity. If this isn’t enough… I can come back and do it again tomorrow?” Victoria lunged, grabbing my collar in a rage. “Leo, are you incapable of understanding English? How dare you pull a stunt like this? Do you want me to cut off your mother’s medical payments?” As the words left her mouth, her phone rang. She answered, and her face went ashen. After hanging up, she stared at me, her eyes burning. “What else did you do?” “Nothing much,” I said, smoothing the wrinkles she’d made in my shirt. “I just rented out the Jumbotron in the middle of the city. It’s looping my apology video 24/7.” Seeing the veins throbbing in her temples, I added helpfully, “If Evan’s still not satisfied, I could always contact a few TV networks, set up an exclusive interview…” “You—!” Victoria raised her hand to slap me, but she was interrupted by a nurse sprinting towards us. “Ms. Blackwood! It’s terrible! Mr. Pierce… he’s slit his wrists!” Victoria’s hand froze in mid-air. She immediately turned and ran back toward the hospital. Halfway there, she spun around to glare at me. “If anything happens to Evan, I’ll make you pay with your life!” A grim smile touched my lips. “Look, we’re at 60%,” I mused to the System. “Think I can get it to 100% by tonight?” “And you know, most people take three, five years to complete this mission. Do I get a bonus for speed?” The System sounded like it had a migraine. “A bonus? Evan is trying to kill himself! That never happened in the book! The plot is completely off the rails!” “Relax.” I yawned, turning to head back to my own room. “He doesn’t have the guts to die.” The System was still panicking. “Aren’t you afraid Victoria will just kill you herself in a fit of rage?” My face was blank, but my voice was cold. “If she tries, that just makes things simpler. We die together.” “But I don’t think,” I added, “that Victoria will have time for me.” Just as I predicted, Victoria was insanely busy for the next two months. My apology video went viral. #EvanPierceHIV #EvanPierceScandal Both hashtags were trending worldwide within thirty minutes. Victoria threw a fortune at PR firms to kill the stories and scrub the search results, but it only backfired. People started digging. They found traces of her long, ambiguous relationship with Evan. And then the bombshell dropped: the story of how she forced her own husband to donate a kidney to save her old flame. The moment that news broke, Blackwood Industries’ stock took a nosedive. To save the company’s image, Victoria had to make a choice. She sacrificed Evan. She released a public statement claiming they were just friends and expertly redirected most of the ensuing blame onto him. Evan’s career was incinerated. To make it up to him, Victoria brought him to our home. She gave him total control over the household finances, making him the de facto house manager. The System was stunned. “The… the plot point where he gets control of the finances… that just happened five years ahead of schedule!” In the original novel, Evan took over the money, but only after years of his own self-destructive behavior had ruined his career. Victoria gave him the responsibility to try and help him get back on his feet. Somehow, I’d managed to fast-track the whole damn thing. “No, it wasn’t an accident!” the System declared, a newfound respect in its tone. “You planned this from the start, didn’t you?” I just smiled and said nothing. Once in power, Evan began to make my life a living hell. He moved my mother to the worst ward in her nursing home, citing budget cuts. He cancelled my driver and gave me a ten-dollar daily allowance, calling it a “real-life experience.” I accepted it all without a word of protest. Even when he deliberately withheld the payment for my mother’s life-saving medication, I just smiled and said, “As you wish.” The System finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Host, have you had a personality transplant? You’re just going to let him do this?” I was calm. “What’s the rush? Have you forgotten the most critical turning point in this book?” The System thought for a moment. “It’s when Evan, in charge of the finances, arranges for your mother to be in an accident. Then he refuses to pay the medical bills, she dies, and you, heartbroken, finally leave. That’s when Victoria’s regret kicks in and the redemption arc begins!” I nodded. “Should be any day now.” The System was speechless. “You don’t mean…” “That’s right.” I smiled. “I’ve already built the stage. Now we just have to see if Evan will play his part.” And how could he not? He was desperate to get me out of the Blackwood family. So, two days later, the call came from the hospital. “What?” I gasped into the phone, my voice filled with panic. “A car accident? How? I’ll be right there with the money.” I hung up and sprinted to find Evan, my voice trembling. “Evan! There’s been a car accident! A family emergency! They’re in the ER, they need money for the surgery right now, can you give me some?” “Sure.” Evan coolly pulled a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and pressed it into my hand. “You’d better hurry. Don’t want to keep them waiting.” I stared at the ten dollars. “This is it? You’re only giving me ten dollars?” Evan smirked. “Ten dollars a day. That’s the rule. You want more, you can come back tomorrow.” He was doing this on purpose. I knew it. No more words. I dropped to my knees in front of him. “Evan, please, this isn’t a joke. The hospital said they won’t operate without payment. Please, just give me more. You don’t understand, the one in the accident is…” He cut me off before I could finish. “It’s the same procedure for everyone. The Blackwood fortune wasn’t built on handouts. If I make an exception for you, how will I ever manage this household?” I figured he wouldn’t budge, so I pulled out my phone and dialed Victoria. “Victoria, Mom’s been in a car accident! She’s at the hospital waiting for money to save her life, and Evan won’t give it to me! Please, just talk to him, tell him to give me something! It’s life or death!” There was a few seconds of silence on her end before she told me to put Evan on the phone. I quickly handed the phone over. His tone immediately softened. “Victoria, darling, it’s not that I’m being unreasonable. It’s just, if I break the rules so soon after they’re set, the staff will never respect my authority. I know you feel for him, but I need to establish my position.” I couldn’t hear what Victoria said, but a triumphant smirk spread across Evan’s face. He handed the phone back to me. “Victoria wants to talk to you.” I took it. Her voice was sharp with impatience. “Leo, a house has rules, just like a country has laws. Evan just took over the finances; he needs to establish his authority. If he makes an exception for you now, how will he ever stand on his own two feet in this house? As for your mother, it’s fine if the money is a little late. The hospital won’t actually let her die.” “A little late?” My voice shot up an octave. “Victoria, are you insane? It’s emergency surgery! A single minute could be the difference between life and death! Are you telling me you’re just going to do nothing? You are going to regret this!” “Regret it?” A cold laugh came through the phone. “Leo, I still haven’t settled the score with you for that disaster you created at the hospital. This time, just let Evan have his way. Once he’s calmed down, the money will be sent. Just behave yourself and stop making trouble.” The line went dead. I shot Evan a murderous glare, spat out the word “bastard,” and left. Of course, I went straight to the hospital. No money, and Evan had clearly given them instructions. It wasn’t long after I arrived that they handed me the death certificate. Looking at the paper, my lips trembled slightly. I knew these were just characters in a book, but still… Just then, the System whispered, “Try to keep your laughter down.” I tried. I really did. I failed. “Sorry,” I choked out. “I just can’t help it when I think about what’s coming next.” The System was completely immune to my antics by now. “So, what’s the plan?” I clutched the death certificate and hailed a cab. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to settle the score with those two scumbags.” The second I walked into the Blackwood mansion, I went straight for Evan. I slapped him hard across the face, twice, before he could even react. “You son of a bitch, Evan! It’s all because of you! She didn’t make it! She’s dead! Are you happy now?” The commotion brought Victoria through the door. She had just gotten home. She ran over and shielded Evan with her own body, pointing a finger at my nose. “Leo, who do you think you are, hitting him? It’s not Evan’s fault your mother died! If you have to blame someone, blame her for being too weak! We were about to send the money. It’s not our fault she couldn’t hold on! Who can you blame for that?” Her words lit a fire in me. Without thinking, I blurted it out. “Victoria, are you even human?” “And besides, it wasn’t my mom who died. It was yours!”

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I used a rock to smash a car window, saving my uncle who had driven his car into a river. But instead of thanking me, he blamed me for accidentally scratching his paint job and demanded my family pay him $20,000 in repair fees. My grandma chimed in with even more shocking logic: “All he had to do was open the door and swim out! Who told you to go smashing windows? If you ask me, your family owes your uncle a brand-new car!” My mom snapped back on the spot. “If it weren’t for Jane saving him, he’d be fish food by now. Forget twenty grand—I’d burn a hundred cars for him at his funeral!” Denied his compensation, my uncle flew into a rage. He drove his truck and rammed our family car off a bridge and into the river. “Won’t pay? Fine! Let’s see how you like having your car wrecked!” My parents died instantly. I ended up in the ICU. But Grandma took the money meant for my life-saving surgery and gave it to my uncle. “Even if your parents are dead, a debt is a debt! He needs a new car!” As I died filled with hatred in that hospital bed, my uncle was happily picking up a new car at the dealership. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the riverbank, watching the car sink rapidly into the water. This time, I’d like to see how my unconscious uncle plans to just “open the door” and swim out. 1 I was awakened by the loud crash of my uncle’s car hitting the water. I opened my eyes to see the vehicle already drifting toward the center of the river. The water was swallowing the car at an alarming rate, seeping into the cabin and submerging most of the seats in seconds. Even though the water was up to his legs, Uncle Rick was slumped over the airbag in the driver’s seat, motionless. Without rescue, an unconscious Rick would sink to the bottom of the river with his car within five minutes. In my past life, seeing this, I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed a rock from the bridge and smashed the window. I knew that once a car is submerged, the water pressure makes opening doors impossible. Smashing the window is the only way out. I never expected that this common-sense act of survival would bring total destruction upon my family. After escaping through the window I broke, Rick didn’t offer a single word of thanks. Instead, he blamed me for scratching his paint job with the rock, leaving three coin-sized dents. I explained that the car was drifting in the current, making it hard to aim. But he wouldn’t let it go. “I just bought this BMW! Your daughter smashed it up. Family or not, business is business. You owe me twenty grand!” My parents called him ungrateful. But Rick insisted he would have survived without me. “There are plenty of ways to escape! Who said you have to break the window? Someone else might have saved me without damaging my car!” “Your daughter just had to play hero and ruin my window. Now I have to spend an extra grand fixing it. I’m being generous not asking for that too!” Hearing that Rick had to pay for the window, Grandma turned on me. “You little brat, can’t keep your hands to yourself! Opening the door is easy! Who told you to smash the car?” Then she demanded my mom buy Rick a whole new car. “Your brother’s nice car is ruined because of your daughter. If you don’t pay him back, don’t call me your mother anymore!” 2 Usually, Mom gave in to Rick and Grandma’s demands. But seeing their greed grow out of control, she finally woke up and firmly refused. “Jane did nothing wrong. We won’t pay a single cent!” Rejected, Rick locked the gate, trapping us, and threatened violence. This infuriated my parents. They warned him that if he didn’t let us go, they’d report his drunk driving to the police and sue him for the $15,000 he’d borrowed over the years. Hearing “police,” Rick reluctantly let us leave. But as we drove onto a nearby bridge, Rick chased us down in his truck and rammed our car into the river. “Won’t pay? Fine! Let’s see how you like having your car wrecked!” My parents drowned. I suffered severe brain damage and was rushed to the ICU. Friends and coworkers pooled money for my surgery. Grandma promised them she’d do everything to save me. Then she turned around, signed a “Do Not Resuscitate” order, and gave the money to Rick to buy a new car. She cremated my parents and told everyone they died due to drunk driving. While I lay dying in agony, Grandma comforted Rick. “Don’t blame yourself! Their deaths have nothing to do with you. It’s their own fault for being bad people!” “Look! You both drove into the river, but you’re fine and they’re dead! If that’s not karma, what is?” Karma. I clenched my fists tight. I hope that in this life, when Grandma sees Rick’s corpse, she can still casually call it karma. The crash naturally attracted the villagers. But it took nearly a minute for anyone to actually walk to the riverbank. Several elderly voices rang out. “Did I hear that right? Sounds like a car went in the water?” “Let me put on my glasses… Oh my! It really is a car. We should call 911!” “Huh? Where’s my phone?” Watching the old folks slowly patting their pockets for phones, I almost laughed. In my past life, when Rick woke up on the shore, the police and fire department had already arrived, leading him to believe plenty of people could have saved him. He didn’t know that the only reason a kid like me had to smash the window was that the first responders on the scene were geriatrics and toddlers. 3 In Grandma’s village, most young adults had moved to the city for work. The place was populated almost entirely by the elderly and children left behind. Though there were many people, almost none had the ability to save Rick. As the crowd on the riverbank grew, I squinted, scanning the faces. Soon, the person I was waiting for appeared. Grandma squeezed her way to the front of the crowd of old ladies with surprising agility, craning her neck toward the center of the river. I pricked up my ears, waiting for her reaction. But to my surprise, upon seeing the car, Grandma put her hands on her hips and laughed out loud. “Haha! Serves him right! Driving like a maniac in the village! Hope you drown, you bastard!” I was stunned. The onlookers were stunned too. “Martha, why would you say that? Do you have a grudge against the driver?” “Yeah! Do you know whose car that is?” Seeing that the villagers didn’t recognize the car, I remembered. Rick had bragged about “just picking up” the BMW in my past life. I thought he meant he bought it recently, but now I realized this was the first time he’d driven it back to the village. Even his own mother didn’t know it was his car. Grandma said angrily to the villagers: “I don’t know him! But this car almost hit me on the road just now. If I hadn’t dodged fast, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you!” She pointed at her clothes. “Look! I had to roll on the ground to dodge him. Look at my new clothes!” Grandma was wearing the new outfit my mom brought her today. It was a light blue jacket, now covered in mud, looking almost brown. Looking at Grandma’s clothes, I slapped my forehead. I remembered something else. In my past life, after waking up, Rick said he was going to settle the score with an old lady in blue. He claimed he drove into the river because that old lady suddenly jumped in front of his car, causing him to panic and swerve. Well, well, well! So the person Rick almost hit was Grandma. I was so focused on saving him last time that I missed the drama on the shore! I was getting more and more curious about Grandma’s expression when she realized the person in the car was her son. Strangely, despite hearing Grandma’s near-death experience, none of the other elderly people responded to her. Another minute passed. The kids finally managed to find two middle-aged men. As soon as they saw the car, they started discussing rescue plans and asking the elderly folks for help. “Did anyone call 911?” “Quick, take a picture and send it to the village group chat. Let’s see whose car this is! Get their family here!” “Who has tools? We need something to break the window!” 4 With someone taking charge, the elderly folks finally mobilized, taking pictures, making calls, and hobbling home to find tools. Seeing the villagers ignoring her and obeying the newcomers, Grandma unhappily tried to make her presence known. “What’s the rush! Wait until you drag the body out, then call the family to identify it!” Grandma’s mouth was always venomous, and after nearly getting hit, she was in full curse mode. “Martha, the man isn’t dead yet! Save your breath for prayers!” “Exactly! They’re going to save him!” Grandma got riled up and started arguing. “Driving like that, even if he doesn’t drown today, he’ll crash eventually! He didn’t hit me this time, but what if he hits someone else later? You’re saving a murderer!” I don’t know how others felt hearing this, but a chill ran down my spine. However, the villagers were much busier than me. They had no time to argue with Grandma. The two middle-aged men had stripped down and jumped into the water. The elderly folks were handing them tools. “See if this works for the window!” “Take this inner tube! Be safe!” In the bustling crowd, only Grandma was as idle as I was. She sat on a stone bench, crossed her legs, and started pouring cold water on the rescue efforts. “Ooh! You guys really aren’t afraid of death. So many people have drowned in this river. Aren’t you afraid of the water ghosts pulling you down instead of saving anyone?” This made a few teenagers who wanted to help hesitate. The river currents were strong, and there were whirlpools. People really had drowned here. Plus, it was Ghost Month. The mention of “water ghosts” scared the superstitious elders into holding their grandkids back. “Go home! This isn’t for you!” Seeing Grandma discouraging everyone, Mrs. Lee from the east side of the village couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you stop talking! It’s a human life! Are you going to watch him drown? Your Rick drives too. If this happened to him, would you want everyone to just stand by?” Hearing this, Grandma jumped three feet in the air and grabbed Mrs. Lee’s hair. “You old hag! How dare you curse my Rick to drown? I’ll throw you in the river right now!” Mrs. Lee’s son was one of the men in the water. He had already swum out a few meters. Hearing the commotion, he looked back to see Grandma shoving his mother toward the water. He had to turn back immediately. Seeing the rescuer return to shore, others who planned to help stopped. “What’s wrong? Is there something in the water?” The momentum to save the person deflated significantly.

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For three years, I was the perfect girlfriend to Julian. I never checked his phone, never cared how many “female friends” he entertained, and never fought with him no matter how late he stayed out partying. Julian was proud of this. He bragged to his boys about how much I loved him. Until one day, he accidentally stumbled upon an old, private social media account dedicated to my first love. Back then, I was petty, jealous, and completely emotionally unstable. In one video, my first love laughed helplessly and asked: “Why do you have such a temper?” I answered righteously: “I only get mad because I love you. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t give a damn.” Julian froze. 1. When I bumped into Julian at the club, a girl in a spaghetti strap top and hot pants was sitting on his lap. Her pale, slender arms were wrapped around his neck, and her lips, coated in glittery gloss, were curved into a flirtatious smile as she leaned in close. The married guys in the VIP booth were already standing up, apologizing to Julian with awkward smiles. “Sorry, Julian, gotta bounce. The wife’s on patrol tonight. She’s called like five times already. If I don’t get home now, I’m sleeping on the couch.” Julian let the girl pluck the cigarette from his mouth and put it in her own. He scoffed. “Useless. All of you, whipped by women.” The single guys started jeering. “That’s why Julian’s the king. Doesn’t matter what time he gets home, the wifey never checks up on him. Teach us your ways, bro! How do you train them like that?” The girl in his arms giggled, pressing her chest against him. “Yeah, Julian. Aren’t you afraid your girlfriend will see us like this and get mad?” Julian played with her hair, a smug look crossing his face. “She loves me to death. Whatever I say goes. We’ve been together three years, and she hasn’t started a single fight.” “Damn! Legend!” The guys laughed, envious. “Julian plays around all these years and she doesn’t say a word? That’s a real man right there—” His sentence cut off abruptly. He saw me standing nearby, expressionless. Julian saw me too. He didn’t look flustered at all. He just pushed the girl off his lap, raised an eyebrow, and waved me over. “When did you get here?” I paused, then walked over. My voice was calm. “Just got here. With friends.” The girl who was pushed away looked sour. She looked me up and down and forced a smile. “Hi, Chloe.” Only when I got closer did I recognize her. It was Mia, the new secretary at Julian’s company. Just a fresh grad from a state college. Julian had personally hired her after seeing her photo on her resume. Didn’t think he’d get his hands on her this fast. I ignored her. Julian looked like he’d had quite a few. His beautiful peach-blossom eyes were watery and dangerously attractive under the dim lights. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. “Didn’t even tell me you were coming out. Give me a kiss.” He leaned toward the corner of my mouth. I instinctively dodged. I didn’t know if he’d kissed Mia just now. I felt gross. Julian’s expression changed. The smile vanished from his lips. Even though he was the one sitting, he looked at me with a gaze that felt condescending. “Chloe, what’s that mean?” I turned my head slightly and said softly, “You’re drunk.” “You disgusted by me?” Maybe because I embarrassed him in front of his friends, Julian’s eyes turned cold. He suddenly grabbed Mia, pulled her back onto his lap, and pressed his hand against the back of her head. Mia looked delighted and accepted his kiss obediently. Just like that, right in front of me, they exchanged a wet, deep kiss. When Mia pulled away gasping ten seconds later, a thin silver thread of saliva connected their lips. She looked at me, a triumphant smirk on her face. Julian looked at me provocatively. His friends went silent, their eyes fixed on me. No woman could tolerate her boyfriend making out with another woman right in front of her. They probably thought I was finally going to snap. I just looked Julian in the eye and said indifferently, “You’re drunk. I’m leaving.” As I walked away, I heard his friends gasping in amazement. “Damn, Chloe is so chill. She’s not even mad!” “Julian really has her trained. She’s probably terrified of getting dumped.” “That’s true love right there. I heard she chased Julian for a whole year back in the day. Obedient as a dog. Deeply in love!” Julian laughed, a sound full of contempt. “She can’t leave me. She doesn’t dare get mad.” The winter air was sharp as a knife. It had started snowing outside without me noticing. The flakes drifted down, dyed red by taillights one moment, yellow by streetlamps the next. I tightened my scarf, leaned against a wall, and lit a cigarette. The menthol smoke mixed with the cold air, stinging my lungs as I inhaled. This was my first love’s favorite brand. Back when we were together, I used to pester him to let me try. He’d scold me every time: “Chloe, are you crazy? If I catch you smoking, I’ll break your legs!” The day we broke up, I bought a pack myself. I coughed while I smoked. After that, no one was there to stop me, so I learned. I rarely smoke these years. But sometimes, when the emotions hit, I can’t control it. Watching Julian kiss someone else didn’t make me angry. Because I don’t love him at all. 2. Getting together with Julian started with me chasing him. The first time I saw Julian was at the opening of a new bar. He was there as an investor. The table in front of him was full of expensive bottles, and the beauties around him were giggling at his jokes. That face attracted the gaze of every girl in the room. I remember a lot of people went to ask for his WeChat. I went too. Lots of people liked Julian, but I was the one who persisted the longest. For a year, I was at his beck and call. One word from him, and I’d appear in front of him no matter how far away I was. Julian’s playboy reputation was legendary in our circle. He never had a shortage of women. Even if he had just finished hooking up with someone else, I’d pick him up with a single phone call. I asked nothing, said nothing, just made him hangover soup. Everyone thought I loved him to the bone. They said the Zhong family was embarrassing—going bankrupt was bad enough, but their only daughter was so bewitched by the He family’s youngest son that she was willing to be his doormat. The catalyst for us getting together was a night we both got drunk and confusedly rolled into the same bed. I only remember Julian was very rough that night. I cried a lot, holding onto him and sobbing. The next morning, Julian looked at the marks on my body and my swollen eyes. Maybe he felt a rare pang of softness. He lit a cigarette and asked casually: “Do you want to be with me?” “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, biting the cigarette filter. “Don’t try to control me. I hate women who manage me.” I stared at the duvet on my chest for a while, then said: “Okay.” Julian always thought I was crying tears of joy that night. He didn’t know that day was my first love’s birthday. His profile looked so much like him. At the party earlier, I spotted him in the crowd instantly. In the dim light that night, for a moment, I felt like he had returned to me. … I was with Xavier from the time I was seventeen until we broke up when I was twenty-five. Almost ten years. He was the only scholarship student at our private high school, recruited for his grades. I heard his family used to be well-off, but his father was backstabbed by a business partner. After going bankrupt, his father couldn’t take the blow and committed suicide. His mother, already in poor health, died of depression soon after. Overnight, he went from a pampered young master to a destitute orphan. But Xavier bounced back fast. He was never humble nor arrogant. Even in a private school full of rich kids, he maintained the top grades and was voted Student Council President. Who wouldn’t like someone like him? I confessed to him many times and got rejected every time. But I never gave up. I kept liking him. Many girls liked him, but they all gave up after his rejections. Only I persevered. Finally, on the eve of graduation, when I confessed for the sixth time, Xavier sighed helplessly and asked: “What exactly do you like about me?” My face flushed. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him stubbornly. I didn’t know if I was angry or sad. I just knew I liked Xavier. There was no why. Sometimes, liking someone doesn’t need a reason. “I just like you! I like everything about you!” Xavier looked complicated. After a long time, he whispered: “But I have nothing. I can’t give you anything. Do you still like me like that?” I shouted: “Yes! Xavier, even though I like you, I have limits too! If you don’t say yes this time, I’m never asking you again!” Xavier looked at me for a long time, then let out a long breath, like he was resigned, or maybe surrendering. After a while, he gently hugged me. “What a dummy.” My eyes widened. My heart skipped a beat, then started pounding violently. That was the first time I knew what euphoria felt like. It turns out when people are happy, fireworks really do go off in their hearts. After that, Xavier and I were together. He had great grades; mine weren’t as good. To be with me, he skipped two major questions on the college entrance exam just to get into the same university as me. When I found out, I cried like a baby. He just held me and laughed. “Dummy, why are you crying? College is college. Don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer in the future.” He didn’t make empty promises. Xavier started his own business in his sophomore year. He opened a company with friends and made his first bucket of gold. By graduation, he had already bought a large flat in the city center, decorated in my favorite style, intending it to be our marital home. Everything was going smoothly. Our future plans only included each other. Neither of us doubted we would make it to the end. Until after graduation, when I took him home to meet my parents. Then I saw my dad’s face change dramatically. Xavier swayed on his feet, his face turning pale inch by inch. Later I learned that my dad was the partner who backstabbed Xavier’s father, causing his family’s ruin. Life is absurd like that. Because my dad was always away on business, Xavier had never seen him before. None of us predicted this possibility. That day, my dad asked my mom and me to leave the room so he could talk to Xavier alone. Not long after, Xavier left without saying goodbye. He went abroad. He didn’t leave me a single word. The person who would cross half of China just because I said I missed him, who promised to love me forever, who knelt on one knee with red eyes asking me to marry him, saying he finally had a home with me… he abandoned me just like that. And I couldn’t even hate him. Because my dad ruined him. Who wouldn’t hate that? If it were me, I’d hate it too. Maybe it was karma. After that, my dad’s investments failed, he committed suicide, and my family went bankrupt. But Xavier thrived abroad. He had a great eye for investment and rode the wave. In just a few years, his company rang the bell at Nasdaq, and he became a famous tech mogul. The tables turned. We had no contact. And we couldn’t possibly have any contact. So when I saw Julian, I felt my dead heart beat again after a long time. For me, does it matter who I’m with? Julian looks so much like Xavier. For me, that’s already a gift from heaven. For that face, I was obedient to him for years, always on call. I was always there when he needed me. No matter how late he was out, one call and I’d get out of bed to pick him up from another woman. He didn’t remember my birthday or our anniversary. Even on my birthday, he didn’t come home, playing around outside with new girls. Julian was a famous playboy. He knew how to play and loved to play. He changed women faster than clothes. I knew his reputation before my family went bankrupt. After getting together with me, he didn’t restrain himself at all. Several times, girls came directly to me to cause trouble. I could tell he wanted to break up with me several times, using these incidents as an excuse, but I never got jealous, never made a scene. Over time, he got used to my presence. He and his friends thought I loved him to the bone, loved him too humbly. Actually, I really just didn’t care. I just wanted to see that face in my dreams occasionally. Imagining Xavier was still by my side. Relying on this, I could keep going. 3. It was Julian’s friend’s birthday. He called everyone in the circle for dinner. Everyone brought a plus-one, so Julian brought me. But I didn’t expect Mia to be there too. She naturally sat next to Julian. And she asked me: “Chloe, you don’t mind if I sit here, right?” Julian looked at me. I didn’t make a sound. His smile faded. He sneered and put his arm around Mia. Mia seemed to really like Julian. Throughout the meal, she toasted him frequently, whispering things to him, occasionally laughing at his jokes and leaning on him. I wasn’t angry at all. I sat quietly on the side, eating. One of Julian’s friends tsk-tsked enviously and said to his girlfriend: “Look how generous she is. Unlike you, getting jealous over every little thing. Learn from her!” His girlfriend was drunk. She scoffed: “I care because I like you! If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t give a damn!” Maybe it was a coincidence, but after she said that, the whole room went quiet. Julian clearly heard it too. The smile was still on his face, but the hand holding his glass tightened until his veins popped. His friend froze, then quickly apologized with a smile: “My girl drank too much. Sorry, Julian, she didn’t mean it.” His girlfriend started apologizing too. Julian didn’t say anything. His gaze fell on me. I turned my head, avoiding his eyes. He suddenly asked me: “You aren’t angry at all?” “What is there to be angry about?” I was confused. “Isn’t this the freedom you wanted?” I get to see this face all the time. And he gets the freedom he wants. Each takes what they need. What’s wrong with that? After all, when Julian agreed to be with me, he warned me not to control him. He’s never stopped seeing women all these years. I thought this was the dynamic he liked. Julian seemed unhappy. He got closer to Mia. She was practically sitting on his lap. They French-kissed right in front of me. Completely disregarding me, his girlfriend. Others were used to it. A few looked at me with pity. I scrolled through my phone photos to kill time, waiting for it to end so I could go home. After a few rounds of drinks, Mia got bold. Maybe she finally couldn’t resist wanting to take the main spot. She looked me over and nitpicked: “Using an iPhone 12 in this day and age? How retro.” I ignored her, but she got more excited. “I forgot what an iPhone 12 looked like. It’s an antique, right? I’m actually curious. Sister, show me your phone?” “No.” I gripped my phone tight. “Julian~ Let me see Chloe’s phone. It’s just a phone, what’s there to hide?” Seeing I didn’t speak, Julian frowned: “She wants to see it, just show her.” “No.” I refused again. “Julian~” Mia acted coquettish, holding his arm. Maybe feeling embarrassed by my rejection, Julian’s face went cold. He reached out his hand: “Phone.” I didn’t say a word. “What’s in the phone?” Mia added fuel to the fire. “Something shameful?” Julian’s eyes darkened. He came over to grab my phone directly. “What are you doing?!” I was startled. In the struggle, the phone fell. I instinctively pushed Julian away to catch it. His lower back hit the corner of the table. He grunted in pain and cursed me: “Are you crazy, Chloe?! It’s just a broken phone. If it breaks, I’ll buy you a new one—” The next second, he looked at the video playing on the screen, and all his words stopped abruptly. The video I had just been watching was playing again. It was from when I was still with Xavier. I was lying on his back. I didn’t know he was recording me. I was pouting and scolding him. “Why did you talk so much to that girl today?!” Xavier laughed helplessly: “She’s the Vice President of the Student Council. We were talking about business. You, seriously, how are you such a vinegar jar (jealous person) every day?” I got angrier: “I get jealous because I like you! If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t care if you died!” Xavier laughed and hoisted me up higher. “Okay, okay, you like me. I should be happy, right?” I poked him while lying on his back: “From now on, you’re not allowed to talk to other women, not allowed to add other women on WeChat, not allowed to like anyone else!” “Okay, I’ll listen to you. Where did you get such a bad temper…” The video continued. I picked up the phone and turned it off. Julian held his pose, motionless. No one expected things to develop like this. It went quiet. Eyes fell on us. The next second, Julian suddenly snatched the phone and smashed it onto the ground! Crack! Instinctively, I slapped Julian across the face and bent down frantically to pick up the phone. This was the last memory Xavier left me. The phone was shattered beyond recognition. The screen went completely black. I grabbed the phone, then realized what happened. I turned to look at Julian. That slap wasn’t very hard. But Julian froze. He didn’t even cover his face. He just stood there staring at me blankly, looking confused, like he didn’t know me anymore. Everyone was shocked. No one dared to make a sound. You could hear a pin drop. I regretted it a little, but inexplicably felt relieved. Actually, I didn’t mean to hit Julian. It was just a reflex. At this point, I knew it was impossible with Julian. I picked up my bag and left. As I walked out the door, I sent Julian one last message. “Let’s break up.” 4. I walked aimlessly on the street, but suddenly saw a familiar back at the corner! In that instant, the sound of traffic vanished. I only heard my heart stop for a beat, then thunder in my chest! That back looked so much like Xavier. But when I rushed over, he had disappeared into the crowd, nowhere to be found. I stood there lost for a while, until a car honked behind me, urging me to move. I turned away blankly. This winter seemed to have an unusual amount of snow. After sitting in the park for a while, I felt a slight coolness on my eyelashes. I realized belatedly that everything around me was white. I curled up slowly, not wanting to leave. I didn’t know where to go. After my dad died, my mom remarried quickly and went abroad. I had no home. Xavier once gave me a home, then left me alone. With Julian? That wasn’t a home. I had places to stay, but no home to return to. Wetness streamed down my cheeks. I wiped it gently and was about to get up when a shadow fell over me. I thought Julian had come out to find me. But when I looked up, my breath stopped instantly. The face that had appeared in my dreams countless times crossed the boundary between fantasy and reality, appearing right before my eyes. And I couldn’t tell dream from reality. My fingers trembled, but I didn’t dare touch him. Xavier had snow in his eyes, slowly melting. For a moment, I thought the him from my memories, the one who loved me, had returned. He said gently: “I’m back.” … I forgot how I got back to Xavier’s place. I only remember I kept crying, clinging to him tightly, refusing to come down. Until he helplessly held me on the bed, patting my back. “Stop crying. I’m not running away. You’ll get a headache if you cry anymore.” I couldn’t even speak properly. I looked up, sobbing intermittently: “When did you come back?” “A few months ago.” I paused, then cried louder: “Then why did you only find me now?!” Xavier lowered his eyes. There was a complexity in them I couldn’t understand. “I heard you were in a relationship. I didn’t know if I should disturb you.” “Then why did you come?” “Couldn’t help it.” He seemed to finally admit defeat: “I can’t forget you, Chloe. I can’t let you go. “I missed you so much it hurt. I surrender. I have no choice.” My hand paused. I sat up. Xavier leaned down. In the cold winter night, with snow falling heavily, this long-overdue kiss was scorching hot. Neither of us spoke again. We had been together too long; even our tacit understanding was too perfect. No one needed to say anything more. We didn’t even have a moment of unfamiliarity. We knew each other’s bodies too well. It had nothing to do with lust, only longing and possession. When I frowned, I held him almost in panic, afraid this was just a dream. Then I found he held me even tighter. In the trembling that bordered on pain, we finally confirmed each other’s existence again. When I woke up, the sky was bright. Snow was still falling outside the window. Dark clouds pressed low, making everything hazy. The bed beside me was empty. I was startled. I clutched my chest and stumbled up. Just as I was about to go out, I bumped into Xavier coming back. The light in the room was dim. His sculpted features were shadowed. Maybe because the exercise was too intense, his M-shaped lips were flushed red, impossibly handsome. I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed his forearm. “I thought…” Thought I was dreaming. In the years apart, I had too many dreams about him. But the happier the dream, the more lost I felt upon waking. Leaning into his arms for a long time, I finally summoned the courage: “Are you leaving again this time? About my dad…” Xavier rested his chin on my head. After a long silence, he finally spoke: “Back then, I couldn’t accept it immediately. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know what to do. I really hated him, and consequently, I couldn’t help but hate you too. All these years abroad, I hated you while loving you. I was going crazy. I saw a psychiatrist, but I couldn’t help it. “I kept dreaming of you,” he held my hand, his voice soft. “I dreamed of you crying and asking me, ‘Xavier, why don’t you want me anymore?’ My heart hurt so much. I’d wake up and smoke all night. I didn’t know what to do. Chloe, what could I do?” “Later, I slowly figured it out. Your dad is your dad, you are you. What your dad did has nothing to do with you. And now your dad is gone too. I’m willing to let it go. Let’s start over, okay?” He slowly tightened his embrace: “I’m not leaving. Never leaving again. That old apartment was bad memories. I bought a new house. Let’s decorate it from scratch, okay?” My vision blurred with tears. I hugged his arm tight. “Okay.” The sun broke through the clouds. The snow stopped sometime ago. My sky finally brightened.

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There is a specific kind of intimacy in sharing a bathroom, a forced vulnerability that I have never gotten used to. But there are boundaries. And then, there is the violation of my prescription pH-balancing wash. It kept disappearing. When I asked my roommates, they feigned ignorance. Becca and Chloe just shrugged, eyes glued to their phones. But Sienna? Sienna laughed. “Maybe you just use a lot of it,” she sneered, applying a layer of gloss. “Or maybe you just have a lot of… problems down there that need fixing. You know, from being loose.” She implied I was dirty. That I carried something contagious. I didn’t scream. I didn’t fight. I just felt a cold, hard knot tighten in my stomach. I took the bottle, emptied the expensive medicinal liquid down the sink, and filled it with industrial-strength adhesive. That night, the dormitory was awakened not by a nightmare, but by a scream so raw it sounded like fabric tearing. 1 Let me back up. My luck had been rotting for weeks. First, the infection. A persistent, burning itch that kept me awake until the sun bled through the blinds. The campus clinic doctor prescribed a specialized, expensive wash. “Use sparingly,” she said. “This stuff isn’t covered by basic insurance.” I treated that bottle like liquid gold. But a month’s supply vanished in a week. At first, I thought I was crazy. I bought another one—seventy dollars I didn’t have—and marked the level with a Sharpie. Two days later, the line had dropped by three inches. Getting to the specialist required three bus transfers and a half-day missed of classes. The copay alone was half my grocery budget for the month. I felt every penny leaving my account like a physical blow. But it wasn’t just the money. It was the thought of someone else’s hands—someone else’s body—touching the nozzle that touched me. It made my skin crawl. I confronted them again. “Not me,” Becca said. “Gross, no,” Chloe added. Sienna was at her vanity, perfecting her eyebrows. She saw the bottle in my hand, snatched it, and held it up like a trophy. “Oh, look. It’s the coochie medicine,” she announced, her voice pitching up so the girls in the hallway could hear. “Maybe if someone wasn’t sleeping around with randoms, she wouldn’t need prescription-grade disinfectant. Careful, girls, don’t breathe too deep. You might catch whatever she has.” Becca and Chloe actually recoiled, pressing their backs against their bunks, looking at me like I was a biohazard. 02 “It’s just a bacterial imbalance,” I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I have the lab results from the Medical Center. Look…” Sienna didn’t look. She just crossed her arms and smirked. “Save the act. I saw you last Sunday,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Getting out of that black Mercedes G-Wagon. That guy was old enough to be your dad. Disgusting.” “That is the father of the kid I tutor!” My voice cracked. “It was pouring rain. He offered me a ride back to the dorms—” “Bullshit.” Sienna cut me off, her gaze dropping pointedly to my chest. “You smell like desperation. You’re hopping into old men’s cars and then coming back here acting like a saint?” I was shaking. Not from fear, but from a rage so pure it felt electric. Before I could speak, Sienna tossed the bottle. Clatter. It hit the trash can rim and fell in amongst the used makeup wipes. “Who knows what kind of diseases are on that plastic?” She grabbed a can of Lysol and began spraying the air around me aggressively. “So unlucky. I heard you can catch that stuff just from breathing the same air.” The panic was contagious. “Sienna, spray my side too!” Becca squealed. “I think I touched her curtain earlier, oh my god,” Chloe whined. “And she picked up my Uber Eats order today… I feel sick.” Sienna smiled, a predatory baring of teeth, and linked arms with them. “Come on, babes. We’re going to Target. We need bleach. Tonight, we scrub this room. Anything she touched gets boiled or trashed.” They left in a cloud of performative giggles. A second later, the door flew open. Sienna marched back in, aimed the Lysol directly at my face, and held the trigger. “The thing that needs sanitizing most is you,” she hissed. “Do us a favor and drop out. Stop infecting our lives.” I coughed, my eyes stinging from the chemical mist, tears streaming down my face. She slammed the door, leaving me in the silence. 03 I stood there, my chest heaving. Why? I was the one being stolen from. I was the victim. And now I was the pariah? My grandmother used to say, Swallow your anger and you’ll swallow poison. If I let this go, if I just bought a lockbox and hid my things, I would be admitting defeat. I would be accepting that I deserved this treatment. No. Fuck that. They didn’t deserve my grace. I pulled out my phone and opened Amazon. Industrial strength cyanoacrylate adhesive. Add to cart. Miniature wireless nanny cam. Add to cart. Overnight shipping. Two days later, the package arrived. When the room was empty, I tucked the camera onto the top shelf of my bookcase, hidden between two textbooks. Then, I poured the remaining medicinal wash into a travel bottle for myself. I filled the original prescription bottle with the glue. It was clear, odorless, and had the viscosity of gel. It looked exactly like the soap. But the reviews said it could bond steel to concrete. Finally, I took a label maker and printed a single word in bold, red letters: GLUE. I stuck it clearly on the bottle. I placed it at the very back of my desk, behind my laptop and a stack of notebooks. Hidden. Private. 04 That night. The scream tore through the darkness like a physical weapon. I bolted upright, heart hammering. Becca and Chloe were sitting up, silhouettes of confusion in the dim streetlights filtering through the window. We looked at Sienna’s bed. It was empty. My stomach dropped. No way. She didn’t actually… I scrambled down the ladder. The bottle on my desk was gone. From the bathroom down the hall, the screaming shifted into a guttural, animalistic sobbing. “It’s Sienna!” Becca realized, sprinting into the hallway. I followed, barefoot on the cold tile. Becca pounded on the bathroom door. “Sienna! What’s wrong? Open the door!” The only answer was a shriek of pure agony and the sound of something heavy thumping against the stall wall. The handle jiggled, but the lock held. The commotion summoned the Resident Advisor, a tired senior named Jessica, followed by a growing crowd of students in pajamas holding up their phones. “Move! Everyone back!” Jessica yelled, key in hand. She shoved the door open. The collective gasp sucked the air out of the hallway.

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My entire prestigious family can hear my thoughts. The day they brought me home, they sent their adopted son a casual thirty-thousand dollars for pocket money. They sent me two hundred. I grumbled to myself, Are you kidding me? Two hundred bucks? I make more than that turning wrenches on the line. Just as their faces curdled with disdain, waiting for me to grovel like a grateful dog, they heard the rest of my thought: So, a New York City powerhouse family gives their son a combined monthly allowance of thirty-thousand, two-hundred dollars. They couldn’t even afford a square meter of thermal shielding with that. What’s the point of fighting over this paltry inheritance? The Program is still behind on its thirty-rocket KPI for the year. Instead of wasting time on this family drama, I should be back building defenses against the alien invasion. 1. The moment my parents and I stepped through the mansion’s grand entrance, a boy threw himself to his knees in front of me. I flinched back, startled. He scrambled forward on his knees, his face streaked with tears. “It’s all my fault! I stole the life that should have been yours, brother! I’m on my knees begging for your forgiveness. If you can’t forgive me… I’ll voluntarily leave the Sterling family and go back to the slums! I’ll do anything, as long as it makes you happy!” In the opulent living room, my biological parents and three older sisters immediately rushed to his side. My mother helped the boy, Miles, to his feet, her tone sharp with disapproval. “Rob, that’s enough. How could you treat your brother like that?” My father’s face was grim, his eyes burning with condemnation. My eldest sister, Chloe, scoffed. “What do you expect from someone raised in the wilds? Besides herding cattle and turning wrenches, all he knows are these pathetic little tricks to get attention.” I was too busy gawking at the mansion’s interior to hear a word they were saying. The Sterlings really are a top-tier player in the advanced materials industry. Even their home is built with the best of the best. The anger in their eyes vanished, replaced by stunned confusion. They exchanged glances, then all stared at me. Good thing I listened to the Director and took leave to come home for this family reunion. With me as the inside man, the Program won’t have to worry about material suppliers anymore. My father’s brow furrowed slightly. Chloe let out a disgusted snort but said nothing. My second sister, Seraphina, shot me a look that was suddenly sharp and wary. My third sister, Ava, glared at me. “I’m warning you,” she said, her voice like ice, “we only have one brother, and that’s Miles. Don’t even think about competing with him for our affection, or for the company.” My father cleared his throat, addressing me in a patronizing tone. “Rob, you’ve been working on the factory floor for a long time. It must be difficult adjusting to the Sterling lifestyle here in the city.” He tapped a few times on his phone. A moment later, the ancient feature phone in my pocket blared a robotic, glitchy voice announcement: “Two hundred dollars received.” “Take this for now,” my father said. “Once you’ve settled in, I’ll send you more.” Then, he turned to a teary-eyed Miles, his voice softening with affection. “Miles, we raised you. You will always be a Sterling. That will never change. As compensation, I’m raising your monthly allowance to thirty thousand, starting now. I’ll send it over.” He immediately pulled out his phone to make the transfer. Miles’s tears vanished, replaced by a triumphant smile. He made a show of refusing, his gaze flickering smugly in my direction. “Oh, no, you can’t. You should give my allowance to my brother instead. He grew up poor in the countryside and worked in a factory. He needs the money more than I do.” The flaunting was obvious, but I just frowned. Are the Sterlings really this poor? Only thirty thousand a month for their son? My father’s thumb froze over his phone’s keypad. 2. Miles stared at him, confused. My eldest sister, Chloe, let out a cold laugh. “Thirty thousand? I bet you’ve never even seen ten thousand in your life. Do you even understand the concept of money?” I was disappointed. Is thirty thousand a lot? It wouldn’t even buy a square meter of thermal shielding. My workshop’s weekly budget is more than that. The smirk on Chloe’s face froze solid. Well, I guess being a little poor is fine. At least their family business is in advanced materials. I’ll ask Dad later if he can pull some strings, get his company to partner with our Program. They are my blood relatives, after all. Their products must be struggling to sell. Poor Sterlings, they need my help. After a long, awkward silence, the entire family—except for a clueless Miles—had strange expressions on their faces. My father finished the transfer to Miles and stalked out of the living room, his face dark. After dinner, my mother led me to a small suite next to the first-floor dining room. “Rob,” she said coolly, “none of the upstairs bedrooms are ready. You’ll have to make do and stay here for now.” Miles stood beside her, feigning concern. “Mom, this is the maid’s quarters. Is it really appropriate for my brother to stay here? Maybe he should just take my room.” Before I could say a word, my mother jumped in. “Absolutely not! This cramped little room is for the help. I can’t let you suffer in a place like this!” I had to laugh. This family is something else. The adopted son is too good for the maid’s room, but the biological son isn’t. A flash of embarrassment crossed my mother’s face. She shot me an angry glare before turning back to Miles. “Rob grew up in the country. He’s used to dirt floors and factory dorms with no plumbing. The maid’s room is a huge step up for him. But you’re different. You’ve been raised in luxury. You could never get used to a place like this.” Tears of pity welled up in her eyes. Miles put on a magnanimous smile. “It’s okay, Mom. My bedroom was always meant to be his anyway. I’ve been the usurper for over twenty years. It’s time I gave it back.” “Miles, don’t say that! No matter what, you’ll always be my precious son…” The two of them went back and forth, ending in a dramatic, tearful embrace. 3. I surveyed the room meant for “the help.” You know, for a maid’s room, it’s not bad. Great soundproofing. Those two are wailing their heads off, and I can barely hear them. Dad must be dead to the world out there. It is a bit small, though. I won’t be able to move my equipment from the facility here. Guess I’ll have to go back to the lab if I want to work overtime. What a pain. My mother’s crying stopped abruptly. Thinking about work made me anxious. I used my annual leave for this family reunion. I’ve got a mountain of work piling up. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have to pull a week of all-nighters. Otherwise, I’ll never hit my KPI for the year. My mother was staring at me, the tears drying on her cheeks. She looked around the small room, a flicker of regret in her eyes. The news that the Sterlings had found their real son spread like wildfire through the city’s elite circles. Everyone was watching me and Miles, hungry for a real-life soap opera. To show that the family treated both sons equally, my father decided to throw a grand party in my honor. The funny thing was, nobody told me about it. That evening, after a long, grueling day at the lab, I came home. I pushed open the door to find the living room filled with the city’s rich and famous, all of whom turned to stare at me with a mixture of shock, pity, and disgust. Miles’s voice boomed across the room. “Brother! Why would you come to a party dressed like that?” I looked at him. He was preened to perfection, every hair in place, wearing a bespoke suit that made him stand out even in this glamorous crowd. He walked over to me, his voice laced with false concern. “Didn’t you like the suit Mom and Dad picked out for you? You can borrow one from my closet if you want.” His words were caring, but his eyes were overflowing with malicious glee. As expected, the guests started whispering. “So that’s the real Sterling heir? He looks so… common.” “They threw this whole party for him, and he shows up dressed like that on purpose? Is he trying to embarrass them?” I glanced around. Ava, my actress sister, was chatting with guests, pretending not to know me. Seraphina stood nearby, watching the drama unfold with a detached amusement. Chloe walked over with my parents, her expression thunderous. “Rob,” my mother hissed, “what is wrong with you? Look at what you’re wearing to an important event like this!” 4. I looked down at myself. A standard-issue work shirt and a pair of durable cargo pants. Comfortable, practical. What was the problem? So tired. So sleepy. I didn’t work my ass off all day just to come home and play-act with these people. The aliens are about to invade, and they’re wasting time with high-society drama. I should have just stayed at the lab. With all the time they’re spending on this charade, I could have run another set of simulations. My father forced a smile for the guests. “This is my son, Rob. We just brought him back from the countryside. He’s still learning the ropes. Please forgive his… naivety.” Miles quickly jumped in to “defend” me. “It’s my brother’s first time at a party like this. He doesn’t have any experience, so please don’t mind him.” The condescension in the guests’ eyes only intensified. “I heard his adoptive parents were shepherds. He grew up with sheep. It certainly… shows.” “Not only that, I heard he’s a menial laborer at some factory. No culture, no education. Compared to him, Miles is much more of a ‘real’ heir.” My parents’ faces grew darker with every whisper. Miles shot me a secret smirk, then turned to our parents. “Today is about introducing my brother. Mom, Dad, you shouldn’t be angry with him.” Then he deliberately changed the subject. “By the way, brother, I heard you work at a big factory. Which one is it?” he asked, his tone deceptively innocent. “A lot of our family friends are here tonight. Maybe your boss is even in the room!” Another wave of snickers went through the crowd. “An electronics assembly plant is a ‘big factory’? Does he not know what a real corporation is?” “He’s from the country. It’s normal he can’t tell the difference.” “My company would never hire someone without even a high school diploma. It would ruin our image.” The mockery was relentless. My whole family was glaring at me, blaming me for their humiliation. Actually, Miles just gave me an idea. The Sterlings may be poor, but they’re well-connected. Satellite communications, remote sensing, new energy… if I could get the titans of these industries to partner with the Program, our production capacity would skyrocket. My KPI for the year would be saved. Our current planetary defense system isn’t robust enough. We need all the private sector support we can get. I looked around the hall, suddenly energized, and was about to introduce everyone to my work. 5. But Chloe rushed over, grabbing my arm. “Rob, stop making a fool of yourself,” she hissed. “Go change out of those disgusting clothes, now!” She practically dragged me toward the maid’s room, terrified I was about to further tarnish the family name. At the door, she let go, her voice a low warning. “You will stay in here and behave yourself. Don’t you dare do anything else to embarrass this family! I’m going into politics, and I cannot afford a single stain on my record. If you do anything to jeopardize my vetting process, I swear, Mom and Dad won’t be the only ones who make you pay!” I stared at her frantic expression. This sister of mine has been trying to get into public service for seven years. A tortoise could’ve made it by now. Are the Sterlings really so broke they can’t even afford to send her to a prep course? Chloe’s face went through several shades of red before she finally exploded. “You’re incorrigible! You know what? Just stay in here and think about what you’ve done. You’re not welcome at the party anymore!” She slammed the door and, to my surprise, locked it from the outside. I couldn’t figure out what had made her so angry, but I wasn’t complaining. It gave me the perfect opportunity to review the day’s test data. But Miles, it seemed, wasn’t done with his games. A few minutes later, I heard the lock click. He stepped inside, a saccharine smile on his face. “Brother, aren’t you changed yet? The guests are all waiting for you.” With no one else around, the cunning in his eyes was on full display. He saw the data sheets on my desk. I instinctively tensed, covering the documents with my hands. This was classified information. Even a small leak could have catastrophic consequences. “What’s all this, brother?” he asked, reaching for the papers. I pressed them firmly to the desk. “You’re being so secretive. Is it something you don’t want people to see?” Miles glanced toward the door, confirming something, and then his entire demeanor shifted. The mask fell away. He lunged across the desk. “Give them to me!” I reacted instantly, slamming my hands down on the stack of papers. He grabbed them, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. The papers crumpled in his grip, and I felt a pang of fury. “Miles, are you insane?!” He was about to rip the documents from my grasp. I didn’t hesitate. I kicked out, aiming for his chest. But then he did something strange. He let go of the papers and allowed my kick to send him flying backward. I didn’t miss the twisted, triumphant smile that flashed across his lips. “Miles!” The moment I heard my mother’s shriek, I knew exactly what his plan had been. Chloe, my parents, and a crowd of guests arrived just in time to see Miles sailing through the air. Chloe screamed, “Rob! What are you doing?!” 6. I looked up. She was yelling at me, but her face held the faintest hint of a victorious smirk. My father’s eyes were filled with profound disappointment. My mother rushed to Miles’s side, cradling him. He leaned against her, tears streaming down his face. “Mom, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to look at my brother’s things. Don’t blame him.” The guests who had followed them stared at me with open disgust. “Just as I thought. A savage from the backwoods. He’s barely been back a week and he’s already resorting to violence.” “Growing up in poverty like that, it’s no wonder his personality is so warped.” “He’s probably been jealous of Miles from the start. He wants to drive him out.” Miles, sobbing, added fuel to the fire. “It’s because I stole his life that he’s so unhappy. If he doesn’t want me in this family, I’ll just leave…” My mother looked up at me, her face contorted with hatred, as if I were some monster, not her son. “Rob! You’ve gone too far this time! Apologize to Miles, right now!” I scoffed internally. Chloe locks me in the room, and then Miles shows up with a key to steal my work. This brother-sister act is worthy of an Oscar. If Miles went into acting, our sister Ava might have some serious competition for her Best Actress award. Across the room, Ava choked on a cough. The fury on my mother’s face wavered. She unconsciously loosened her grip on Miles. My father’s gaze shifted to Chloe, who nervously wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Miles was oblivious, still deep in his performance. “I was just worried he was going to do something to harm the family! I saw his papers, they had all this stuff about alloys and data I didn’t understand. I just wanted to see what it was, but he reacted so violently. He didn’t even graduate high school, how could he possibly know about this stuff? And our family company develops advanced materials, I was just worried he was…” His words all but spelled out that I was a corporate spy. Under the weight of his accusations, my father’s expression grew grim. He walked toward me, his hand outstretched. “Give me those documents.” I clutched them tighter, wary. His patience snapped. He lunged for them. Thankfully, I was ready and pulled them out of his reach. Like father, like son—a bunch of thieves. You must have a hankering for a prison sentence. Daring to grab a state secret. Is Chloe really sure she still wants to get into politics after this? Chloe’s face went white. She quickly stepped between us. “What is this stuff?” she demanded. “If you don’t give us an explanation, you are not leaving this house ever again!” 7. I was silent for a moment. That’s not going to work. I have to be at the lab early tomorrow to turn some more wrenches. If someone has to go to prison, I’m voting for Miles. I pulled him out of my mother’s arms, held up one of the data sheets, and pointed to a specific line. “Read this.” He was reluctant at first, but with everyone watching, he stumbled through the words.

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I was taking a walk with my grandma when I spotted a devastatingly handsome guy. Grandma caught my vibe instantly. “You want his number?” I nodded sheepishly. “I want it, but I don’t have the guts.” Grandma told me to wait and marched straight up to him. A few minutes later, my phone rang. A deep, magnetic voice came through the speaker. “Hi, your grandma got lost. Could you come pick her up at the intersection?” “…” 1 It was a lazy weekend afternoon, and I was strolling with Grandma, chatting about nothing in particular. Suddenly, I saw him. He was standing outside a convenience store, smoking. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that looked sculpted by the gods. His profile was sharp, his demeanor effortlessly cool. He looked like a model straight out of a cologne ad. I stared so hard I almost tripped over my own feet. “Lily, what’s wrong?” Grandma steadied me. “Nothing, nothing,” I mumbled, too embarrassed to admit I was ogling a stranger. Grandma knows me too well. She didn’t buy it. She followed my gaze and landed on the guy. “Oh~ I get it,” she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You want his number, don’t you?” I shook my head violently, then nodded pathetically. “I do, but I’m too scared.” Grandma scoffed. “Coward. Wait here. Grandma’s got this.” Before I could stop her, she was already shuffling toward him. I froze. Grandma, please don’t just ask for his number. That would be mortifying. 2 I watched as Grandma approached him. The guy noticed her immediately. He put out his cigarette and straightened up, his lazy demeanor shifting to something respectful. He seemed to be asking if she needed help. Grandma said something to him. He looked surprised for a second, then nodded. He pulled out his phone and started typing. I stood there, sweating from secondhand embarrassment. Thirty seconds later, my phone rang. An unknown number. I answered hesitantly. “Hello? Is this Lily? Your grandma seems to have lost her way,” a voice said. It was deep, smooth, and incredibly attractive. “Could you come pick her up?” “…” I gripped my phone, stammering, “Yes… yes, of course.” He chuckled softly. “Great. Meet us at the intersection of Main and 4th.” “Okay, I’m nearby. I’ll be right there.” I hung up, my heart pounding. Grandma, you are a genius. Claiming to be lost? It was brilliant. Efficient and deniable. I saved the number immediately, fixed my hair, smoothed my dress, and walked toward the intersection. Under the shade of a large oak tree, my crush was standing with one hand in his pocket, holding my grandma’s hand with the other. Grandma looked like a kid who just stole a cookie jar. “Grandma!” I called out. Grandma winked at me, then turned to the guy with an innocent face. “Ethan, my granddaughter is here.” I stopped in front of them. Up close, he was even more devastatingly handsome. My face burned. He extended a hand, smiling lazily. “Hi, I’m Ethan.” Even his name was hot. “I’m Lily,” I said, shaking his hand. His palm was warm and dry, his grip firm. “Thank you for helping my grandma.” “No problem.” Grandma clapped her hands. “Oh, Ethan, I don’t know what I would have done without you. I wanted to treat you to dinner as a thank you, but you said you were busy. Such a shame.” Ethan looked at me, his eyes twinkling. “Actually, Grandma,” he drawled, “I think my schedule just cleared up.” 3 Fifteen minutes later, the three of us were sitting in a private booth at a nice restaurant. Ethan excused himself to wash his hands. Watching his back as he walked away, I sighed internally. So handsome. Just then, a greasy, familiar voice drifted from the next table. “Lily!” I turned. It was my former boss, Frank. He was smiling, but it looked like a layer of oil floating on water. “What a coincidence,” he said, walking over. His eyes gleamed unpleasantly. “I’ve been calling you since you quit. Why didn’t you answer? I asked everyone where you went, but no one knew. I even went to your old apartment, but the neighbors said you moved. Why are you hiding from me?” I ignored him, staring at the menu. Grandma’s face hardened. Frank had harassed me relentlessly at my old job. He even threatened Grandma when she tried to intervene. I quit the moment he went on a business trip. I didn’t think he’d still be stalking me. “I wasn’t trying to touch your leg that night,” Frank continued, his voice dripping with fake sincerity. “I was just drunk. You overreacted. Lily, why aren’t you talking? Still mad?” He stepped closer, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. Just as I was about to stand up and kick him, a bottle of ice-cold soda flew through the air and smashed into his hand. “Argh!” Frank screamed, clutching his hand. His face turned purple. “Who did that?!” Ethan stood in front of me, rolling up his sleeves. His voice was calm and cold. “Your daddy.” 4 Frank pointed a trembling finger at him. “You dare hit me? Do you know who I am?” Ethan looked unimpressed. “Don’t care. Just know you need a beating.” “I work for the Far East Group! The richest family in the city! You better watch your back, kid.” Ethan paused, then let out a scoff. “Hey, buddy. Come here. Let me whisper something to you. I promise I won’t hit you.” Frank leaned in suspiciously. Ethan whispered something in his ear. Frank’s face drained of all color. He stumbled back, staring at Ethan with wide, terrified eyes. His arrogance vanished instantly. I could see his legs shaking. “You… you…” Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking bored. “Shut up. And get lost.” Frank scrambled away like his life depended on it. Ethan sat down calmly. “Thanks,” I said, still stunned. “Don’t mention it.” Grandma handed him the menu, her eyes misty. “Ethan, order whatever you want. Thank goodness we met you today.” Ethan smiled at me. “It’s fine. He won’t bother you again. Lily, what do you like to eat?” The sudden shift in topic threw me. “Uh, sweet and sour ribs, spicy pork… why?” “Just asking,” he said softly. He checked off both dishes on the menu. I scratched my cheek, feeling shy but curious. “Ethan, what did you say to him? He looked like he saw a ghost.” Ethan grinned mischievously. “I told him I saw him in one of Red’s VIP videos. Holding a gallon of cooking oil. Told him if he didn’t want to be famous on the internet, he should behave.” “…” I was shocked. What a disgusting man Frank was. Thank god I quit.

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I was scrolling through social media when a video titled “The Cutest Couple at Comic-Con” popped up. The comments explained that the girl cosplaying the female lead was a recent graduate, an intern. The man with her was her boss, whom she’d dragged along to fill in. “How come other people’s bosses are so handsome and doting? I’m so jealous!” “Right? My boss is a bald, penny-pinching fossil who only knows how to exploit us!” I shook my head and chuckled, my thoughts drifting to my own husband. Arthur, a software engineer with a STEM background, was the very definition of a strict, demanding boss. His shirts were always meticulously buttoned to the top, and he showed no mercy to anyone. Even during the two years I worked as his assistant, the smallest mistake would earn me a public berating until I cried. His employees secretly called him “The Ice King.” Curiosity piqued, I zoomed in on the video. It felt like a lightning strike. The man in full cosplay makeup, his costume open to reveal a set of defined abs… The man spinning the young intern under a shower of confetti petals… It was my husband, Arthur. 1 I stared at the screen, my fingers digging into the back of my phone until they ached. I couldn’t believe the man on the screen, so transformed and carefree, was the same husband who approached every aspect of his life with rigid precision. My hand trembled as I looked up the date of the convention. Last Saturday. My birthday. The same day Arthur told me he had a work dinner and wouldn’t be home. I had never once doubted his word. In my mind, Arthur was more earnest and serious than anyone I knew; he didn’t have the capacity to lie. But this video was a vicious slap in the face. The front door clicked open. Arthur was home. My neck was stiff as I remained on the sofa, not getting up to greet him as I usually did. He walked a few steps into the living room, his brow slowly furrowing. “Is dinner not ready yet?” I blinked. The dry, perfunctory question, so typical of our married life, sounded especially jarring after watching the video. Forcing a smile, I stood and took the jacket he handed me. “I’ll… go get the food.” As he moved his arm, a pink crystal bracelet slipped out from under his cuff. My breath hitched. I instinctively grabbed his hand. “Where did this come from?” Arthur’s expression flickered with something unnatural when he saw my shocked gaze. But just as quickly, his face settled back into its usual cool indifference. “It’s a gift from an employee. She said it’s good for the company’s finances. What’s wrong?” Arthur, the man who only ever wore a single watch and sometimes found even his wedding ring too much of a hassle, suddenly believed in good luck charms? I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “It doesn’t suit you. Take it off.” “If you want financial luck, I got that charm from the temple, remember? I’ll go get it for you.” His brow tightened, and he shut me down with an impatient tone. “No need. I think the pink crystal is fine.” “I’m hungry. Can you serve dinner?” With that, he turned and walked to the dining table. I went into the kitchen, borrowed a friend’s account, and sent a friend request to the intern whose name I’d just looked up. Her most recent post was a picture of two wrists, one wearing the pink bracelet, intertwined. The caption read: “Hehe, bought matching bracelets with my first intern paycheck. My grumpy boss loves it! ;)” The phone slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the counter. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I scrolled through the intern’s profile—Chloe’s profile—like a form of self-torture. Traces of Arthur were everywhere in the vibrant life she documented. “Oopsie, spilled coffee on my grumpy boss’s files today! Luckily, a few pastries made everything better. He wasn’t even mad! Hehe!” “Told my grumpy boss if he didn’t go to Comic-Con with me as my cosplay partner, I was gonna quit. Hmph.” 2 Looking at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror, I made a decision. The next day at noon, I took the soup I’d prepared and went to Arthur’s office. As luck would have it, he was in a meeting. I waited in his office, my eyes idly scanning the stack of documents on his desk. A frown immediately creased my brow. The formatting was a mess, riddled with typos, and, to my astonishment, sprinkled with cutesy emoticons. Stunned, I immediately called for his assistant, Sean. “Who did this? How did this sloppy mess end up on Mr. Hayes’ desk?” “Get it out of here and have them redo it. Now.” I knew Arthur’s standards. If he saw this, he would explode and verbally tear the person responsible to shreds. But Sean looked incredibly uncomfortable. He stammered that it was fine, that Mr. Hayes wouldn’t mind. Frustrated, I grabbed the document and walked out of the office, demanding to know who had prepared it. Better for me to point out the mistake now so it could be fixed, rather than wait for Arthur’s inevitable wrath. Everyone exchanged strange, awkward glances. Then, a sweet, chirpy voice came from behind me. “I did it. What’s wrong with it? Why does it need to be changed?” I turned around to see a group of people emerging from the main conference room. Arthur was at the front. And pressed close to his side was Chloe. Arthur’s gaze fell on the document in my hand, and his brow furrowed slightly. My heart skipped a beat. So it was her. Well, she’d walked right into the line of fire. Arthur might be lenient about trivial matters, but when it came to his work, he was an absolute perfectionist. But his next words sent a chill through my veins. “Sean, didn’t I have you go over this with her three times? How is it still wrong?” Chloe, completely unafraid, stuck her tongue out playfully. “Oh, come on, Sean explains things so fast! I couldn’t keep up.” Arthur rubbed his temples. His expression was one of weary resignation, but there wasn’t a hint of anger. “Fine. Come to my office after work. I’ll teach you how to do it myself.” I looked up, my eyes wide with disbelief. In that moment, the man in front of me felt like a complete stranger. Not the Arthur I had loved for ten years and been married to for six. The stares from the surrounding employees felt like invisible slaps across my face. Some were amused, some were scornful, and some were tinged with pity. “Who is that woman? Acting so high and mighty. Doesn’t she know Chloe is special to the boss?” “Yeah, the Ice King only ever yells at us. Chloe could probably burn the building down and get away with it.” “Shh, keep it down. That’s his wife!” Just moments ago, I was the one laying down the law. Now, my face was burning with humiliation. Arthur, however, seemed completely oblivious to my discomfort. His tone was cool and detached. “What are you doing here?” My arm fell to my side, all my strength gone. “I made your favorite soup and brought it for you…” Before I could finish, Chloe let out another theatrical gasp. “Oh, Mr. Hayes, I ordered you fried chicken and coke for lunch! I even used two of my coupons for it.” A small smile touched Arthur’s lips, as if he found her antics charming. “Alright. We can’t let those coupons go to waste.” To me, he offered only a single, dismissive sentence. “Take the soup home. Stop acting like a damn housekeeper.” 3 By the time I got home, the soup was cold. So was my heart. Arthur had never been good at taking care of himself. He’d worked himself to the bone during the start-up phase of his company and developed serious stomach problems. I was the one who had quit my job to meticulously research healthy recipes and medicinal broths, nursing him back to health. All those small, detailed acts of love, in his eyes, were no different from what a housekeeper did. A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped me. In the ten years I’d been with Arthur, I never knew he was capable of such blatant favoritism. That evening, Arthur came home. As he walked in, he instinctively pressed a hand to his stomach. I knew the fried chicken and coke would have upset it. A bowl of warm, stomach-soothing soup was already on the table. When he saw it, his expression softened slightly. As he began to eat, his movements familiar and routine, I suddenly spoke. “Arthur, if you’ve had a change of heart, if you’re cheating on me, you can just tell me.” Arthur nearly choked. He wiped his mouth, his face flushing with irritation. “Chloe is just an intern. She’s young and a bit playful. Why are you making a big deal out of it?” “Besides,” he added, “she went to our university. She’s an underclassman. It’s only natural I’d look out for her a bit more.” Tears suddenly streamed down my face, a profound sadness washing over me. “I didn’t even say her name, and you’re already jumping to her defense.” And he had the audacity to claim there was nothing between them? Arthur was speechless. I pulled up the Comic-Con video, still trending, and showed it to him. Then I showed him Chloe’s social media posts. As he looked at the evidence, his expression slowly hardened, a cool disappointment filling his eyes. “Sarah, when did you become so… common?” “Snooping on people’s social media, showing up at my office to check on me… You had a comfortable life as Mrs. Hayes. Was that not enough? Did you have to stir up all this drama?” He slammed his bowl down on the table with a loud crack. A chip flew off the rim. I was so stunned I forgot to cry. “It’s just a young girl’s fantasies posted online. Am I supposed to police what my employees post on their personal accounts?” He insisted that nothing had crossed the line between him and Chloe. The only reason he was looking out for her, he claimed, was to maintain a good boss-employee relationship and retain a promising new hire. “If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing more I can say.” “Sarah, I expected you to mature with me, to grow. Not to regress into this foolish, paranoid woman. You’re disappointing me.” After that night, Arthur started staying at the office, using the excuse of being busy. Until our sixth wedding anniversary arrived. The doorbell rang. It was a delivery guy. “Mrs. Hayes, a cake from your husband.” A flicker of hope ignited within me. This was the first time Arthur had ever proactively arranged for an anniversary cake. Had he really matured? Had he learned how to show affection? I opened the box and froze. A large, mocking number “4” was formed by the candles. It pierced my heart. Arthur, the man who’d aced his college entrance exams, who could recall hundreds of data sets with perfect accuracy, couldn’t even remember how many years we’d been married. A strangled laugh escaped me, tears rolling down my cheeks as I did. My phone rang. It was Arthur, his voice as flat and robotic as ever. “Did you get the cake? Are you still upset?” I quietly wiped my tears away. “Will you see a movie with me tonight?” Animal Romance 2 was out. The first one had been released right after we got married. I had begged and pleaded for him to go with me. He had paused his typing, tapping his watch. “Do you have any idea how many lines of code I could write in the 120 minutes we’d waste at a movie theater?” “Sarah, time is valuable. I need your support.” I took a deep breath, pushing away the unpleasant memory. “Arthur, please. It’s my only request for our anniversary.” 4 His tone hardened with impatience. “How old are you? You still want me to watch that childish nonsense?” “I have a work dinner tonight. I won’t be home. Just eat the cake and go to bed early.” He hung up before I could say another word. I threw the cake in the trash and bought a single movie ticket. But at the theater, I saw two familiar figures. Chloe was clinging to Arthur’s arm, happily bouncing in line to collect the movie’s limited-edition couple’s merchandise. She playfully snapped a fox-ear headband onto Arthur’s head and put on a pair of bunny ears herself. They pressed their cheeks together for a selfie. I opened my phone. A new post had just appeared on my feed. “Yay! At Animal Romance with my grumpy boss! This is my reward for being such a hardworking little intern and helping him with his overtime! ;)” In that moment, all the patience and restraint I had mustered shattered. I stormed over and slammed the bucket of popcorn and the large soda down on both of their heads. Chloe let out a piercing scream. Arthur instinctively pulled her into his arms, shielding her. When he saw my face, his eyes blazed with anger. “Sarah, are you following me? When is this going to end?!” I slapped him hard across the face, my voice breaking as I screamed, “Being with me was a waste of your precious time, wasn’t it? You were never willing to compromise or change for me! But you can waste day after day with Chloe, going to conventions, wearing cheap matching bracelets?” “Arthur, do you even have a heart? Why are you being so cruel to me?!” A crowd gathered around us, phones out, recording everything. Chloe buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Realizing the situation was escalating, Arthur shoved me aside, threw his coat over Chloe, and rushed her out of the theater. But it was too late. The video went viral. “Isn’t that the ‘cutest couple’ from Comic-Con? Turns out the guy is married! Gross.” “An intern seducing her boss and then flaunting it online? The nerve of these young homewreckers.” “And he did it on his SIXTH wedding anniversary with his wife. I’m disgusted. I hope the cheater and the mistress both get what they deserve.” A few days later, Arthur, who hadn’t been home, video-called me, his face a mask of fury. “Chloe is being destroyed online. She’s too scared to even leave her apartment. The cyberbullying got so bad she tried to kill herself with sleeping pills!” “Are you happy now? You got what you wanted with your cheap, underhanded tricks, didn’t you?” Through the screen, the man I had loved for a decade looked terrifyingly alien. “I’m warning you, Sarah. You will record a video apologizing to Chloe. You will admit you were wrong and clarify that she is innocent in all of this!” I bit my lip, refusing. Arthur’s expression turned to ice. “Either you apologize, or we get a divorce. You have two choices.” There was a knock on the door. Just as he’d planned, a lawyer was there with divorce papers, already signed by Arthur. “I’m not forcing you, Sarah. You brought this on yourself. You dug your own grave.” His tone was calm, confident. He was handling this like a business negotiation, certain I would choose the first option. He gave me an ultimatum. A video of my apology had to be online before Chloe woke up. “Otherwise, wife or not, I will handle this professionally.” “You can expect a lawsuit from the company’s legal department.” With that final threat, he ended the call. The screen went dark, reflecting my determined face. An hour later, the lawyer’s phone rang right on schedule. “Well? Has she recorded the apology video?” “Mr. Hayes… Mrs. Hayes has signed the divorce papers.”

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I took a job as a tutor, but the kid I was teaching, Leo, was obsessed with gossip. One day, he looked at me mysteriously and whispered: “My cousin is broken.” “Broken where?” I asked. “You know… down there. It’s been broken since he was little.” My jaw dropped. I felt a wave of sympathy for the poor guy. Just then, Leo shouted: “Cousin!” I turned around, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. “That’s your cousin?” “Yup.” Holy crap. That’s my crush. 01 Ethan was just as surprised as I was. He raised an eyebrow at me. “What a coincidence.” “My aunt said she found a tutor for Leo. I didn’t expect it to be you.” “Haha, yeah… small world,” I laughed dryly. Ethan walked over, ruffled Leo’s hair, and turned to me. “Are you done with the lesson? Heading back to campus? I can give you a ride.” “No thanks!” I rejected him instantly. My reaction was so intense I startled myself. Afraid he might misunderstand, I quickly added: “I… uh… dropped something on the way here. I was just going to walk back and look for it.” Before he could say anything else, I grabbed my backpack and fled. But ten minutes later. Ethan’s car pulled up beside me. He rolled down the window. “Did you find it?” “Not yet…” “Tell me what it is. I can help you look.” Ha. Haha. What was I looking for? An excuse. How was he supposed to help me find that? I shook my head miserably. “Really, it’s fine. You go ahead.” My mind was a mess. I had no idea how to face him now. 02 I hadn’t known Ethan long. We met last month at a board game cafe near campus. Ethan lost a game, and his dare was to get a girl’s number. Yes, he asked for mine. When I looked up and saw his objectively perfect face, my breath hitched. Heat crept up my neck. “Is that okay?” he asked again. I tried to act cool as I pulled out my phone for him to scan. My roommates saw right through me. They exchanged glances and immediately launched a full-scale offensive, enthusiastically inviting him to join our table. They kept creating opportunities for me. They claimed I knew palmistry and insisted I read Ethan’s palm. “Sure,” he said, extending his hand. I had no choice but to take his fingertips. I don’t know if it was his nervousness or mine, but our skin grew damp where we touched. I let go quickly and made something up: “Your palm lines… looks like you have a lot of romantic luck. Many suitors.” “Really?” His voice was soft, like a feather brushing my ear. I nodded solemnly. His smile deepened. Warmth spread from his eyes. “Are you one of them?” I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Before I could respond, he laughed. “Just kidding. Not offended, right?” I admit, I have double standards. If a guy I’m not interested in says “hello,” it’s harassment. But if I’m interested? That’s a different story. Since that day, we’ve been chatting on and off. It was getting more and more ambiguous… Just two days ago, he asked me to go for a walk on the track. Trying to look cute, I wore a miniskirt. He wore three layers and was sweating. We walked slowly around the track. It was freezing at night. I sneezed. Without missing a beat: “So cold.” “Thank god, you’re finally cold.” He took off his jacket and draped it over me. I realized something. “You wore so many layers just to give this to me?” “Yeah.” He looked at me calmly. His beautiful eyes didn’t waver. My face burned hotter. And yesterday, I asked him to help design a logo for a competition. He revised it over and over, working until late at night. Feeling guilty, I sent him a red packet (money transfer). [Sorry for the trouble.] He didn’t accept it. He replied: [Not trouble. I’m happy to be needed by you.] My desire to date him was at an all-time high. But who could have predicted— Life would slap me in the face today. Why? Why, God? I’ve been a good person all my life. Is this my karma? Falling in love with a eunuch? 03 Friday afternoon, I went back to tutor Leo. Ethan was already sitting in the living room. I awkwardly changed my shoes, tripping over my own feet. Ethan was as friendly as ever. Pouring me water, complimenting my outfit, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner. “Haha.” I laugh when I’m uncomfortable. I brushed him off and dove into Leo’s room. The little brat was ready, sitting primly at his desk. I wiped the small whiteboard and started the lesson. As usual, thirty minutes was his limit. Once the clock hit the half-hour mark, he melted onto the desk like a boneless chicken and started gossiping. “Teacher, did you know? The father and son upstairs are chasing the same girl.” “Oh, and my dad is dating again. He matched with one of his former students. Can you believe it?” “My mom seems to be dating someone too…” “Leo,” I interrupted. “Can we talk after the lesson?” “Please, Teacher! Let me finish this sentence or I’ll explode.” I took a deep breath. “Go ahead.” “I heard my mom on the phone yesterday. She said whoever wants to be her boyfriend has to solve two math problems first. And the guy agreed! He even wrote her a love poem. Want to hear it? I memorized it.” “No thanks.” I was speechless. No wonder his mom, a math teacher herself, hired a tutor for him. This kid was born in a gossip column. Finally, the lesson ended. I picked two questions from a test paper to check his progress. He finished quickly. I graded them. One right, one wrong. Okay, I guess. I told him to correct the mistake, but he went “Huh?” “But I wrote the same thing as the answer key.” “The answer key is wrong.” “Really?” Leo picked at his face, unconvinced. This kid is stubborn. I had to call Ethan in for backup. Ethan walked in and smiled immediately. “What? Are you going to test me with math problems too?” 04 I paused. Then I realized— He was sitting in the living room looking proper, but he was eavesdropping the whole time. A few days ago, my heart would have fluttered. Now, it felt like a herd of alpacas stampeding through my chest. Who understands my complex feelings? With Ethan and me double-checking, we confirmed the answer key was wrong. Leo finally accepted defeat and started correcting his work. I packed my bag to leave. Ethan stopped me. “Stay for dinner.” “No,” I refused instinctively. “I…” “Please,” he interrupted. “I started cooking before you arrived. If you say no, it’ll all go to waste.” The words caught in my throat. I heard myself say: “Okay then.” I have to admit, Ethan is a great cook. Handsome, can cook… major bonus points. But… My eyes drifted down to his jeans. He seemed to sense it and looked at me weirdly. I quickly looked up at the ceiling. “By the way—” “Big.” He blurted it out. I froze. Two seconds later, my face exploded with heat. What? What the hell?! Did he think I was making a dirty joke? “I meant—” “It’s our department’s turn for the physical fitness test next week. I saw your department already finished.” “I wanted to ask if it was strict. Can I slack off?” I was done. Done. This man’s mouth was harder than diamond. Even if the sky falls, his mouth will hold it up. It’s gone, and he says it’s big! Big ghost! Ethan stayed calm, quickly recovering. “Some groups are strict, some are okay. Try to get the short-haired female teacher.” “Okay.” Silence fell over the table. Suddenly, Leo reconnected to the conversation. “What’s big?” “This chicken leg.” I put a drumstick in his bowl. “Oh.” He looked skeptical. After dinner, Ethan offered to drive me back. Luckily, I anticipated this and called an Uber in advance. I greased my feet and ran faster than a rabbit.

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In the third year of my secret marriage to a movie star, a photo of us making out on the street went viral. Usually mild-mannered, my husband, Lucas Hale, flew into a rage. “Gather all the evidence! I’m suing! I’ll handle the situation with Claire myself!” Handle me? I drafted a divorce agreement and threw it in front of Lucas. But his eyes turned red, and he demanded: “Babe, am I that shameful to you?” “Just because I paid someone to expose our relationship, you want to divorce me?” Me: ? 1 I was having dinner when I got a call from Lucas’s assistant. His voice was frantic: “Claire, Lucas is drunk. He’s making a scene and demanding to see you. Can you come pick him up? It’ll look bad if he gets paparazzied.” Before I could answer, I heard Lucas’s deep voice in the background: “Babe, I feel sick.” I coaxed him gently: “Lucas, let your assistant drive you home. I’ll meet you there, okay?” “No! I’m waiting right here on the curb. Come pick me up, please?” At the same time, I heard his assistant let out a high-pitched screech of panic. When I rushed over, Lucas was sitting on the curb, collar undone, eyes rimmed with red. “Why are you actually sitting on the ground?” Hearing my voice, he looked up. His eyes were hazy with drunkenness, but he smiled. “Babe, you’re finally here. I waited so long.” He stumbled to his feet. His assistant tried to help, but Lucas pushed him away. “You can go. My wife is here.” As soon as I got close, he pulled me into a hug. The scent of wood and faint alcohol wrapped around me. He buried his face in my neck, his voice raspy and whining. “Babe, my head is spinning.” I rubbed his head. “Just sleep it off at home.” “Kiss me first. If you kiss me, I won’t feel bad anymore.” I looked around nervously. “Let’s go home first. What if someone takes a picture?” He pulled me into a nearby alley and lowered his voice. “There’s no one here. Is it okay now?” Before I could react, he cupped my face. A kiss laced with alcohol landed on my lips. My mind went blank, and my heart hammered. I spent the whole night worrying about paparazzi. He, on the other hand, slept peacefully with a smile on his face, holding me tight. 2 I was woken up by my phone ringing off the hook. Groggy, I answered, only to hear my agent, Jen, screaming. “Girl, what did you do last night? You broke the internet!” I opened Twitter with trembling hands. Breaking! #LucasHaleMysteryWomanKiss Breaking! #LucasHaleDating I clicked the hashtag. It was a video. Under the dim streetlights, Lucas, dressed in all black, had a woman wrapped in his trench coat. One arm was around her waist, the other shielding her face. The kiss was deep, lingering, and passionate. At the end of the video, Lucas looked up, his gaze locking straight onto the camera. I blushed watching it. I couldn’t believe we got caught. But the comments were… weird. My man hasn’t done a kiss scene in three years, and now he’s trending for making out on the street? Sister-in-law looks hot. My bro has taste. That body, that hair… it’s definitely his first love, Bella. Stop trying to make Bella happen. She’s been irrelevant for years. One user named @ClaireIsMyWife caught my eye. He was replying to almost every comment. @ClaireIsMyWife: Fun fact: Lucas Hale wakes up smiling because he sees his beautiful wife next to him. That silhouette is 100% Claire Shen. Bet they’re already married. Someone argued with him: Were you there? Stop making stuff up. @ClaireIsMyWife swore an oath: It is absolutely Claire Shen. If I’m wrong, I will eat sht on livestream.* I gulped. Isn’t that… a bit extreme?! 3 By the time I finished reading the comments, I realized Lucas was gone. I got up to discuss damage control, but I heard his furious voice coming from the study. “Contact the lawyers! Gather all evidence! Sue them at all costs!” He paused, his tone softening. “I’ll handle the situation with Claire. Don’t tell her about this.” I froze. He was going to “handle” me? Suddenly, the door opened. Seeing me, panic flashed in Lucas’s eyes. “Babe, when did you get here?” “Just… now.” He visibly relaxed and kissed my forehead. “Don’t worry about the trending topic. I’ll take care of it.” “Are you sure? Can I help?” “Everything is arranged. Just take bodyguards when you go out.” I let it go. But throughout the day, the rumors didn’t die down. In fact, they got worse. Wasn’t he handling it? Comments mentioning “Bella” were multiplying. Then, paparazzi shots of Bella returning to the country surfaced. Simultaneously, I got a text from Lucas: Dinner with a director tonight. Don’t wait up. 4 At 11 PM, a new hashtag appeared. #LucasAndBellaDating #BellaLucasDinnerDate My heart sank. Ten minutes ago, Bella posted a photo with the caption: Had a great dinner with someone special. In the corner of the photo was a man’s hand. I recognized it instantly. The bracelet on his wrist was one I braided for him. I tried to delude myself, thinking it was a coincidence. But internet sleuths found Lucas’s reflection in a spoon. My hope died. The CP (Couple Pairing) fans went wild. OMG, my ship has sailed! It’s been three years! This is an announcement! So the mystery woman last night was Bella? Some of you are delusional. Bella just landed today. Did she mail her lips over last night? Maybe she’s just chasing clout? (Just my opinion, don’t come for me.) Maybe Lucas is trying to win her back? Hence the dinner date. I gripped my phone tightly, debating whether to text him. Then I heard the front door open. I turned off my phone and pretended to sleep. 5 The bed dipped. Warm breath hit my face, carrying an unfamiliar perfume scent. I kept my eyes shut, my heart stinging. Was he with Bella all night? Did that scent rub off on him while they were intimate? A moment later, his phone vibrated. Lucas got up and left the room, closing the door softly. I didn’t move, straining my ears. Bella, delete the photo now. If my wife finds out… His voice faded, but I could guess the rest. I tossed and turned all night. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I sat up abruptly. Next to me, Lucas was sleeping soundly, a smile on his lips. Probably dreaming about Bella. Rage boiled over. Smack! I slapped him. Lucas grabbed my hand groggily, kissing my palm. “Babe, what’s wrong?” “Tell me, who were you with tonight? Why are you home so late?” He jolted awake, stammering. “Just a director. Do you know something?” Know what? That he was secretly dating Bella? Or that he was planning to “handle” me to get back with his first love? Tears welled up in my eyes. In the dark, only our breathing was audible. “Forget it. Sleep.” I yanked the blanket over myself. “Okay, let’s sleep.” He reached out to hug me. I elbowed him hard. He gasped in pain. “Ouch! Babe, what is it?” “You’re dirty,” I said, my voice trembling. Lucas looked confused. He sniffed his shirt. “But I showered.” Could a shower wash away the scent of Bella? His romance was exposed, and he rushed to announce it with his first love while planning to deal with me. The only option was divorce!

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