Category: English

During the earthquake, my husband and his secretary were kissing under the debris. My hands were raw, bleeding from digging to save him. Their kiss, however, was splashed across the media, hailed as a testament to enduring love in the face of disaster. “Anya, Willow and I are trending as the ‘rubble romance’ couple. For the company’s sake, let’s get a fake divorce at the courthouse. Once this blows over, we’ll remarry.” Damon and I had kept our marriage a secret for seven years. He always said a single image was better for the company. “Clear your stuff out of the master bedroom. Willow’s moving in.” “Don’t worry, though, you can stay in the maid’s room.” I calmly packed my bags. He didn’t know this time, I was actually going to divorce him for real. At their wedding, I stepped into another man’s Maybach. “The reporters will be here any minute.” Damon frowned slightly. “Willow’s not familiar with the house, so you’ll act as a maid and look after her.” Willow gave me a playful smirk. “Oh, you’re too kind, Damon’s wife. But you’re dressed so nicely to serve me, you don’t really look like a maid, do you?” Hearing that, Damon’s eyes lingered on me. “Change your clothes.” “Take off that bracelet and give it to Willow.” The jade bracelet on my wrist was a gift from Mrs. Harrington the day Damon and I got married. She said it was a Harrington family heirloom, passed down to the daughter-in-law. I’d been abandoned at an orphanage as a child, and Mrs. Harrington took me home when I was nine. She cherished me like her own daughter, showering me with love, making up for the mom I never had. “Anya, don’t make me say it twice,” Damon said, his voice flat. I’d heard that tone before, at his birthday party. That day, Willow complimented my dress, and Damon ordered me to change. When I refused, he had someone forcibly remove my dress right there. The burn scars on my back, from saving him years ago, were exposed for everyone to see. He just covered Willow’s eyes and said blandly, “Don’t look, it’s disgusting.” I took off the bracelet and handed it to Willow. “This is a Harrington family jade heirloom, meant for the daughter-in-law. It’s only right for you to have it.” Damon seemed pleased with my obedience. His tone softened. “Anya, I’ll give it back to you after the interview.” The moment the bracelet touched Willow’s hand, she reacted as if stung, crying out that her wrist was hurting and itching. Damon immediately threw the bracelet to the ground, glaring at me furiously. “Anya, did you tamper with the bracelet on purpose?” I stared at the bracelet, now shattered into several pieces, and many memories in my heart began to crack as well. I mumbled, unable to utter a single word. Damon’s face darkened further. “I knew you wouldn’t say anything. Anya, no one needs to constantly babysit your emotions.” I used to love talking to him. But ever since Willow came into his life, I slowly stopped speaking. If he didn’t come home late at night and I asked about it, he’d complain I talked too much, that I was annoying, unlike Willow who could actually help him. When he drank too much and hurt his stomach, if I showed concern, he’d still complain I only gave hindsight warnings, unlike Willow who was more thoughtful. Even during intimacy in bed, he’d suddenly get a cold look, get up, and head straight for a cold shower, not forgetting to lecture me in between. Chapter 2 “You should watch some movies, learn a thing or two. Your moans are a total turn-off.” “Willow’s so much better at it than you.” I sat on the bed, shame creeping all over my body. “Alright, clean up the floor. The interviewers are arriving.” I picked up the shattered jade pieces and stood beside Willow. Willow and Damon sat together, a picture-perfect couple. After some routine questions, the reporter suddenly asked, “Miss Willow, when did you first fall for Mr. Harrington?” “Oh, I’m a bit embarrassed to say, with so many people watching,” Willow said, lowering her head shyly. Damon affectionately ruffled her hair. “Willow, I’m curious about that answer too.” Willow tilted her head, pondering. “Let me think… I guess it was New Year’s Day. I was working late at the office, and the power suddenly went out. I sent him a text saying I was scared, and ten minutes later, he appeared right in front of me!” Her eyes sparkled like stars. “Seeing him covered in snow, looking so worried, I knew right then and there he must love me.” The interviewing reporters couldn’t help but sigh about true love. Damon chimed in with some of their “love story memories.” I watched it all calmly, but my hands, hidden beneath my sleeves, were clenched into fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. On New Year’s Day, I had accompanied Damon back to his family estate for dinner. On the way home, after he took a call, he just left me by the roadside. No money, no phone. I walked for three hours in high heels and a thin evening gown. When I finally got home in the early hours, Damon whispered, “Willow was working late at the office today, and our house is too far away, so I let her stay overnight.” “Be quiet, she’s a light sleeper, and she just finally fell asleep.” I took off my heels, my frostbitten purple feet hitting the ground, each step feeling like walking on knives. The pain in my feet couldn’t mask the ache in my heart. While showering, I couldn’t help but let out muffled sobs, hidden by the running water. The interview ended. The director of the shoot suggested taking a few simple candid shots of Willow. Damon spoke up. “Anya, come here and assist my wife.” The director, standing nearby, then looked at me. “I never would have guessed Mr. Harrington’s maid could be so breathtakingly beautiful. I wonder if I could invite you to dinner after the shoot?” The director’s scrutinizing gaze lingered on me. I instinctively recoiled, trying to hide behind Damon. Willow smiled and answered for me. “Of course, no problem. Damon, the director worked so hard for our shoot today, why don’t we let Anya accompany them to dinner tonight? It’ll be our way of saying thanks.” Damon ignored my pleading gaze. After a moment’s thought, he nodded. My voice choked. “Damon, I don’t want to go.” His brows furrowed with irritation. “Anya, it’s just dinner.” “Can’t you see how that director was looking at me?” “Anya, if you carry yourself with dignity, no one can touch you.” Damon dropped a chilling statement. “Willow has already agreed. If you make her lose face, you know the consequences.” Damon and I used to visit the orphanage kids regularly every month. One time, Willow insisted on coming along. Chapter 3 The kids at the orphanage drew a picture for Damon and me, but left Willow out. Willow cried, saying the children didn’t like her and that she felt humiliated. That same day, Damon had the orphanage emptied, cutting off all food and water supplies, until I knelt and begged Willow, only then did he spare the children. My voice was hoarse. “Damon, let’s go get divorced right now.” He scoffed. “Anya, don’t pull that stunt with me.” Damon’s bodyguards tied me up and shoved me into the director’s car. In the private room, I was forced to drink glass after glass of alcohol until I completely blacked out. When I woke up, my stomach was churning with pain. I struggled to sit up, and Damon walked in, radiating anger. When he saw me, he paused slightly. “Why do you look so pale?” I gave a bitter smile. “Isn’t this all thanks to you?” Damon’s flicker of concern vanished, his eyes gradually hardening into a layer of ice. “Hah, I must have been overthinking it. After all, you had quite a fun time last night.” I shot back, “What are you talking about?” He threw a stack of photos in front of me. “Anya, does any man make you just throw yourself at him?” I flipped through the photos, one by one. They were all of me in different men’s arms. Memories flashed back with the pictures, and I couldn’t help but dry heave. Remembering Willow’s and the director’s glances from yesterday, I suddenly understood everything. “You should ask Willow where these photos came from.” Damon pinched my chin. “Anya, when did you become so cunning?” I struggled free from his grip. “Damon, you know perfectly well I can’t drink a single drop of alcohol.” “If you know you can’t drink, then why did you drink?” I gave a bitter laugh, tears streaming down my face. “Then why did you force me to go?” Damon’s hand, which he had extended towards me, retreated behind his back. “If you had begged me a few more times, maybe I wouldn’t have let you go.” I curled up inside the covers, muffling a quiet plea. “Just go, I’m tired.” Damon’s voice came through the blanket. “Anya, tomorrow we’ll go to the courthouse to sign the divorce papers. Willow’s worked hard cooperating with me lately. I asked her what she wanted as a reward, and that silly girl only wants a wedding.” “It’s her only wish, I can’t refuse.” Under the covers, I bit my lip tightly. The wedding I had pleaded for, time and time again, he now casually gave to someone else. After hearing Damon’s footsteps fade away, I dialled a number with trembling hands. “I want to leave.”

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For ten years, my husband, Leo, was obsessed with “charity.” The first year, he offered late-night “psychological counseling” to a depressed female netizen, Skylar. Our SnapChat records showed 547 nude photos, all labeled as “Proof of Medical Improvement.” The second year, his infertile friend, Mike, begged him on his knees to “help his wife get pregnant.” Leo personally stepped in and even recorded a video, archiving it as an “Excellent Genetic Donation.” The tenth year, on our wedding anniversary, a bombshell message blew up in his charity SnapChat group: “Eight months pregnant, urgently seeking a man to take over and give the baby a complete family!” Leo immediately transferred $52,000 for prenatal care and charitable funds. His eyes red, he knelt on the ground, pleading with me, “Anya, I can’t just stand by and watch that poor girl get torn apart by gossip! Let’s get a temporary divorce for a year. Once the baby is born and settled, I’ll come right back to you!” This time, I didn’t stop him. Feigning understanding, I agreed, “Fine. Coincidentally, I have a charity project of my own to do.”

Leo looked overjoyed. “That’s great, Anya! I knew you’d always support my cause!” He smiled brightly and casually asked, “What charity are you doing, darling?” As I rummaged for our marriage certificate, I replied, “The male college student I sponsor has late-stage cancer. His last wish is to marry a rich woman for good luck.” At my words, Leo’s face immediately fell. He lectured me with a righteous air, “Anya, how can you just marry anyone?” “Are you upset? Don’t worry, it’s just a charity marriage. I’m only marrying her so she and the child won’t be gossiped about. I absolutely won’t be intimate with her! You know me, Anya, I can’t stand to see others suffer.” I scoffed. “Oh, I know.” Especially when it comes to beautiful young women between 18 and 28. After ten years of marriage, I knew Leo’s “charity sickness” all too well. The first year, he met a depressed girl named Skylar on a psychological help forum. Initially, it was just online chats, but it quickly escalated to daily, unfailing in-person “counseling sessions.” I stumbled upon their chat history once. “Leo, if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead by now.” “Silly girl, I’ll always be there for you.” Beyond that, there were hundreds of nude photos. Leo’s explanation for them was, “The therapist said that a person’s body best reflects their psychological state. I’m just helping her heal.” I just figured he was flirting online to get his kicks and didn’t take it too seriously. But that winter, Leo, who usually hated moving, went out almost every night, claiming he was “walking and talking” with Skylar to clear her mind. On the coldest day, I personally saw them embracing and kissing at the community gate, completely oblivious to others. Skylar was practically plastered against him, and he was stroking her back with movements so fluid, it looked like they’d practiced a thousand times. When I angrily confronted him, he looked innocent. “Anya, Skylar said my embrace and lips reminded her of her ex-boyfriend’s. She missed him so much… she was on the verge of suicide! I was saving her life!” Later, Skylar’s condition “improved,” and she moved out of town. Leo was gloomy and dispirited for an entire month, even forgetting our wedding anniversary. The second year, Leo’s infertile friend, Mike, cried to him about wanting a child for so many years of marriage. Leo immediately offered to help without a second thought. I still remember his expression when he came home that day; he looked as if he’d just saved the world. He excitedly grabbed my hand. “Anya, Mike and his wife are truly pathetic. We should help them if we can.” I was happy then, foolishly thinking he’d just donated money for them to go to the hospital. It wasn’t until three months later that Mike’s wife showed up at our door, visibly pregnant. She grabbed my hand, sobbing with gratitude. “Sister-in-law, it’s all thanks to Leo! If it weren’t for him, I’d still be suffering from Mike’s abuse… But sister-in-law, you’re truly blessed to have a husband as capable and doting as Leo.” Mike’s wife even wanted to show me a video of Leo’s “excellent genetic donation” process. I was trembling with anger. The third year, he was “personally deflowering pure young college girls.” The fourth year, he was “giving intimate massages to young married women.” … And now, on our tenth wedding anniversary, he was going to be a “savior” for a beautiful pregnant woman he’d never even met. Leo noticed I was upset and quickly explained, “Anya, I’m doing all this for you! I’ve already talked to her; once the baby is born, I’ll give her some money, and the child will be ours to raise.” “That way, Mom won’t yell at you anymore. I pity you, Anya!” Leo sounded completely convincing. I looked at him skeptically. “Really?” After so many years of marriage, I still hadn’t had a child. This had indeed been a persistent heartache for both of us. Leo immediately nodded. “Of course! You’re my wife! Oh, by the way, the divorce agreement is ready. You should sign it.”

I looked at the divorce agreement, and my eyes immediately caught the glaring words: “Leave empty-handed.” My lingering doubts vanished. I slapped the divorce agreement onto his face. “Leo, are you taking me for a fool?! Leave empty-handed?!” Leo panicked. “Why are you so materialistic now? It’s not a real divorce. Bianca is about to give birth; I’m just in a hurry, okay? You’re being so unreasonable!” “Calculating assets takes time. This way, we can get it done quickly. It’ll also be easier to remarry later.” I took a deep breath. “Leo, have you ever considered that for the past ten years, I’ve been your biggest charity project?” Leo froze, clearly not expecting me to say that. “Anya, how can you think that? I genuinely love you.” I sneered. “Love? Your love is constantly pushing me aside to ‘save’ those who ‘need help more’?” Leo frantically explained, “This time it’s really different. Bianca is truly pitiful, she—” Leo’s ears turned red. I knew that was his tell when he was lying. Bianca had sent a selfie along with her message in the group chat. Aside from her eight-month pregnant belly, she had large breasts, a slender waist, long legs, and a pretty face. Her voice was incredibly sweet too. He was clearly just after her looks. Leo continued to argue, “Anya, you have to believe me, this is purely a charitable act! I swear to you, as soon as Bianca gives birth and recovers, I’ll remarry you immediately!” I looked at him, this man I had loved deeply for ten years. Fine lines were starting to appear around his eyes, and his hair was thinning, but the fanaticism for “charity” in his eyes, the obsession with playing the savior, had never changed. I asked softly, “What if I don’t agree? What if I say that if we divorce, we’ll never remarry?” Just then, Leo’s phone rang. A delicate voice on the other end cried out in pain, “Leo, my stomach hurts so much, can you come see me?” Leo rushed out, not even stopping to grab his jacket. “Don’t overthink it. I’ll go check on Bianca first.” I sat at the dining table, looking at the meal I’d cooked myself. Leo hadn’t touched a bite. After much deliberation, I dialed my lawyer’s number. Before I could call, Leo called me. A tiny flicker of hope ignited in my heart. Leo’s voice was anxious. “Anya, Bianca’s stomach isn’t feeling well, and she wants chicken soup. Your chicken soup is the best; quickly make some and bring it over. Oh, and by the way, Bianca is allergic to mushrooms, so don’t put any in.” Leo hung up immediately after saying that. His social media updated with a photo of him hugging a woman’s pregnant belly: “Wishing a smooth delivery.” Uninformed mutual friends specifically congratulated me, “Anya, you’re so far along and didn’t even tell us, that’s so unfair! But still, congratulations!” I looked at the congratulatory messages, finding them utterly ironic. When I arrived at the hospital with the chicken soup and the newly drafted divorce agreement, I saw Leo “caring” for his new wife. “What are you doing?!” The scene before me stung my eyes. I angrily threw the chicken soup onto the table. “Leo, we’re not even divorced yet, and you’re doing this with her?!” The hospital room door wasn’t even closed. In broad daylight, Bianca lay on the hospital bed, legs wide open, enjoying Leo’s caresses. Seeing me, Leo quickly withdrew his hand and smiled, explaining, “Anya, don’t misunderstand. The doctor just came to check and said Bianca has a slight breech presentation, causing uterine pain. I was helping her massage her uterus to correct the position.” Leo pulled his hand away so quickly that Bianca didn’t have time to react. She was still trembling on the bed, in the lingering afterglow of Leo’s “massage.” “Leo, I feel much better after your massage. I think the baby’s position is even correcting itself. Can you massage me again?” Bianca’s face was flushed. Leo, without a shred of shame, immediately agreed in front of me, even self-righteously stating, “For the baby’s safety, of course!” Leo, in front of me, reached his hand between Bianca’s legs again. “Anya, you want a healthy baby too, don’t you?” Before I could speak, Bianca cried out in pleasure, “Leo, you’re so good at this! You’ll definitely be a great dad…” “I’m a little hungry. Could you please ask Anya to feed me some chicken soup?”

I was speechless, utterly shocked by Bianca’s shamelessness. She was enjoying my husband’s caresses and then had the audacity to ask me to feed her chicken soup! I clutched the divorce agreement tightly, swallowing my anger, and shoved it into my bag. There was no way we could discuss anything like this today. “How are you going to drink lying like that?” I merely asked roughly, and Bianca’s eyes immediately reddened. She bit her lower lip and clutched Leo’s hand, looking pitiful. “Leo, did I make Anya upset? But if you don’t massage me, my stomach really hurts… Listen, the baby is crying from hunger…” Leo leaned close to Bianca’s belly, listened for a moment, and then clicked his tongue. “If Bianca is hungry, just feed her. You’re going to be a mother yourself someday; can’t you be a little more patient?” I laughed. “Me, impatient? Can’t she do one thing at a time instead of making both of us wait on her hand and foot?” Even adopting a child properly wouldn’t involve this kind of servitude. Leo said earnestly, “You’ve never been pregnant; how could you know how hard it is? Bianca’s stomach hurts and she’s hungry; why can’t you…” “You feed her! I’m not serving you!” I slammed the door shut, the lingering, unpleasant stench still in my nostrils. The divorce agreement remained unresolved until three days later, when Leo returned home. He smiled at me, discussing, “Anya, it’s too unsafe for Bianca, a pregnant woman, to live alone outside. How about she moves into our house?” Before I could agree, someone was already moving Bianca’s belongings in, even into the master bedroom. I slapped the divorce agreement onto the table. “Fine. But sign this first.” Leo glanced at it and said, “That can wait.” Bianca followed closely behind. As soon as she entered, she pointed at my dog. “Oh my! What a huge dog! You scared me to death… Leo, I’m so scared…” Leo blurted out, “Get rid of the dog immediately!” I quickly shielded my dog. “Don’t you dare!” “You handle your business. I’ll take the dog myself.” I stormed out with my dog, heading to a hotel. At the hotel entrance, I ran into Liam, the male college student I sponsored. It was over ninety degrees, and he was sweating profusely, handing out flyers at the hotel entrance. Liam looked incredibly surprised to see me and quickly ran over. “Sister Anya! Why are you out in this heat?” I wasn’t in the mood to explain, so I just hedged. “Just out walking Rusty. I’m tired and want to rest for a bit.” “Why are you… carrying luggage while walking your dog? Are you staying at a hotel? Let me help you with Rusty.” Liam enthusiastically pulled Rusty and accompanied me to check in. At the room door, I stopped Liam. “You can stop here. Thank you for your trouble. How’s school lately? Do you have enough for living expenses? If not, I can give you more…” As I spoke, I took a wad of cash from my bag, but Liam smiled and interrupted me. “I have enough. I make enough money working part-time. Sister Anya, can I come in and take a shower?” I hesitated, then looked at him again. Liam’s clothes were soaked and smelled of dog urine. I smiled awkwardly at him. “Come on in.” Liam was in the bathroom showering. I had just sat down to rest when Leo burst in. I looked at him in confusion. “Why are you here?” Leo stormed in furiously. Just then, Liam emerged from the bathroom. He was shirtless, young and vibrant. Leo instantly exploded. “What are you two doing?!”

For four years, my wife Victoria, who rarely posted on SnapChat, suddenly updated her feed: [Whose clumsy little puppy is this who loves to play?] The picture showed a guy in a white shirt and jeans, pouting and hugging a puppy plushie while sitting in a gaming chair. It was Finn, a new idol from her company. I was staring, lost in thought, when a mutual friend commented below: “Girl, you forgot to switch accounts!” A few seconds later, Victoria’s post vanished completely. But not long after, it reappeared on Finn’s Ins profile. Victoria called me immediately. In the past, I’d have already screenshotted it, been absolutely livid, and rushed to confront Victoria, raising hell until the whole house shook. But this time, I just quietly watched the screen, waiting for the call to disconnect itself. When Victoria got home, I was sitting on the couch watching a movie. She tossed her car keys onto the entryway table, then bent down to kick off her shoes. “Nothing to do, yet you didn’t answer your phone?” Victoria never probed unless she had a guilty conscience. I didn’t even take my eyes off the TV screen. I casually replied, “The movie was too good. Didn’t notice my phone.” “The work dinner dragged on forever, that’s why I’m late. You don’t need to sit here waiting for me every day. Nobody wants to see you making yourself so pathetic.” Back then, I would’ve painstakingly explained that this was all a display of my love for her. But today, I suddenly couldn’t be bothered to say anything more. Victoria sauntered over to me and casually handed me a luxury brand paper bag. Today was the big premiere of Victoria’s company’s new show. To celebrate and wish for great ratings, I had, as usual, left work early, cooked a nice meal with good wine, and invited a few mutual friends. We were all waiting for her to come home to watch the premiere together. But after four episodes of the series aired, my friends ate dinner in an awkward silence and left one by one. Victoria, who had promised to be home early, was nowhere to be seen. I pretended not to notice Victoria’s continuous ten hours of gaming history, took the shopping bag, and placed it on the carpet. I had seen this bag once before, not long ago, when Victoria missed our wedding anniversary. Even the shape and size were identical. Victoria looked down at me for a moment, her brow furrowing, her voice turning cold: “Liam, can you stop throwing a fit?” Buying me gifts was Victoria’s most common way of apologizing. If I accepted the gift, she’d assume whatever unpleasantness had passed. If I brought it up again, I’d be accused of “dragging things on endlessly.” Now that I wasn’t making it easy for her, she was clearly annoyed. “I’ll open it for you.” Before I could even speak, she ripped open the packaging herself, pulled out a new watch, and handed it to me: “The sales associate said this watch was really hard to get. You’ll definitely love it.” I lifted my gaze. Victoria followed my eyes to the watch I had casually taken off and placed on the coffee table while rushing to prepare the big meal – it was identical to the one in her hand. The atmosphere instantly froze. “It’s late. Let’s clean up and get to bed. We have work tomorrow.” I said, neither warm nor cold, and stood up to go to the bedroom. “Tomorrow, I’ll have my assistant pick you up. You can go pick out a new one.” Victoria’s tone had a rare hint of caution. “No need.” I refused her without even turning my head. The next morning, perhaps sensing she had indeed gone too far, Victoria uncharacteristically offered to go to the office together. Still feeling exhausted, I nodded and agreed. She stood by her car, her face a mix of stifled anger and impatience. I don’t know when it started, but Victoria had begun constantly finding excuses not to let me ride in her car. She guarded her passenger seat like a treasure, absolutely forbidding me from laying a hand on it, forcing me to buy my own car. Whenever I asked about it, she’d raise her voice and scold me, saying I was losing my mind from too much internet, constantly causing a fuss over “passenger seat ownership,” and she didn’t have time for my inexplicable possessiveness. But now, her passenger seat had practically become Finn’s personal throne. Decorated with all sorts of puppy plush toys, plastered with cute puppy stickers. The passenger seat itself was custom-made, just to ensure Finn, with his height and long legs, could sit comfortably. Even the sun visor’s vanity mirror had been modified, just so Finn could check his flawless face anytime. Victoria glanced at me, then sighed audibly and opened the car door, moving all the various puppy plushies to the back seat. I watched her back and frowned slightly, saying, “Don’t bother. I’ll just drive myself to work.” Victoria buried her head, tidying the endless stream of puppy plushies: “I promised to go together. Finn’s young, he just likes cute things like these. Don’t take it to heart.” Even without the plushie decorations, the custom seat still looked garishly bright and clashed completely with the car’s overall style. Ultimately, I still didn’t get into Victoria’s car. No other reason, it just made my stomach churn.

I unlocked my car, but Victoria quickly strode over, pulled open the driver’s door first, and sat down: “I’ll drive. That way, we’re still going to work together.” I stood by the car window, speechless, and didn’t miss the flicker of awkwardness in her eyes. So, she *did* know how excessive it was to have the passenger seat look like that. Victoria was silent for a few seconds, seemingly trying to figure out how to smooth things over. Not wanting to hear any more nonsense, I quickly cut in: “We’re going to be late. Just drive.” She then closed her mouth and started the car. Barely ten minutes into the drive, her phone rang – “That Feeling, That Look I Can’t Escape,” Finn’s signature cheesy pop tune. A weak, pathetic voice came from the phone, making it hard not to feel protective: “Sister, my heart’s beating so fast. I think it’s because I stayed up too late playing games last night. Am I going to die, Sister? Boo-hoo, Sister, come save me! I need Sister to take me to the hospital.” After hanging up, Victoria didn’t say a single word, didn’t even glance my way. She just immediately pulled over and reached over to unbuckle my seatbelt. Her tone was strictly business: “My artist isn’t feeling well, I need to get there immediately. The office isn’t far from here, you can walk the rest of the way.” I got out of the car and had barely closed the door when Victoria eagerly started the car, leaving me with a pungent cloud of exhaust fumes. This was a prime location, a district where every inch of land was worth a fortune. No one here walked to work. A small scooter, probably not expecting anyone to be walking across the crosswalk, rounded the corner and collided head-on with me without slowing down. My forehead, palms, and knees all suffered varying degrees of soft tissue bruising. The nurse treated my wounds, taped sterile gauze pads with medical tape to prevent infection, and carefully instructed me: “Take off the gauze when you get home tonight to apply medicine. Make sure it doesn’t get wet before it scabs.” On the way to the office in a ride-share, the young female driver was juggling two phones—one for navigation, and the other streaming Finn’s live broadcast. Rows of comments scrolled by, all expressing concern for Finn’s health. “Thank you for your concern, everyone~ Don’t worry, little puppy Finn isn’t feeling so bad now, because Sister arrived like a superhero, and my heart feels stable again.” “No~ I didn’t confess to Sister. We’re not that kind of relationship, everyone, don’t spread rumors~ Sister is just so kind and so good to little puppy Finn~” Amidst the boy’s soft, whiny voice, two messages popped up on my screen. “Liam, my assistant said you missed the morning project planning meeting? Where did you go? Everything takes precedence over work, do I have to teach you that?!” “I told you to walk a bit, and you throw a tantrum and quit on me?! What are you trying to prove?!” The anger and impatience in her words practically leaped off the screen and slapped me in the face. I sometimes wondered if Victoria had a split personality; otherwise, she wouldn’t show such blatant favoritism. That evening, I changed my dressing in front of the mirror, then dragged my injured leg to the sofa to binge-watch a show. The sound of the fingerprint lock chimed at the door, followed by Victoria’s sarcastic voice: “I thought you’d finally gotten rid of that awful temper of yours. You’ve been so docile these past few days, turns out you were just saving up to drop a bombshell on me, huh?” Perhaps my motionless back enraged her, because Victoria stomped over to the TV and forcefully yanked out the power cord: “Liam, did your brain get eaten by a dog?! This is a film project aiming for awards! Do you have any idea how much money it costs to delay it by just one day?!” I still didn’t move or speak, just quietly watched as she suddenly froze. She suspiciously eyed the nasty wound on my forehead, and then my exposed elbow and knee, her brow furrowing: “What happened?” I met her gaze and replied blandly, “Minor issue. Just got hit by a car on the way to work.” Victoria blinked, suddenly reining in her aggression, and walked over to examine my injuries: “You had a car accident and didn’t even call me?” I pulled my hand away from hers and said lightly, “It’s just a minor injury. I’m not going to die. Besides, you were busy taking care of your artist’s health.” Typical empty words, as always. She could say all the sweet-sounding things she wanted, but how many times had I called her only to be met with a stream of scolding without any explanation? Victoria had long stopped caring if I ran into any danger. After being hurt so many times, if I still didn’t realize she wouldn’t come, I’d truly be beyond redemption. Victoria was particularly sensitive to that comment. She suddenly stood up, looked down at me, and sneered: “Do you have to use so many subtle digs, Liam? Was leaving you by the road some kind of heinous crime? You’re twenty-eight, not two point eight! You got hit by a car while walking, and you think you’re in the right? I think you deliberately got hurt to get back at me!” I watched her sudden outburst, speechless. What else was there to say? I’d only spoken one sentence, and she’d slapped a ridiculous stack of accusations on me. Too tired to argue, I stood up to go back to the bedroom. Seeing how difficult it was for me to move, Victoria put away her temper, sighed, and came over to support me: “I’ll sleep with you tonight. Just call me if you need anything.” Victoria hadn’t been back in our bedroom before 2 AM in a long time. That was because Finn needed to live stream every day to build his popularity, and he said that many female accounts would harass him during evening streams. He’d be scared without protection. So, Victoria always, without fail, locked herself in her study every night, dedicated to guarding Finn. She’d occasionally drop Super Chat donations to cheer him up, or engage in sweet interactions on stream, making sure everyone knew Finn was under her wing. I’d argued with her countless times, tried everything from soft persuasion to hard threats, but nothing changed her mind. She said it was just work. Eventually, she even threatened me with divorce. Although it left me speechless with a bitter taste in my mouth, I could only compromise. I looked into Victoria’s eyes. I didn’t refuse her offer, but when she reached out to embrace me, I said coldly: “Victoria, I agree to the divorce.” That sentence had a much greater impact than I’d expected. Victoria angrily snatched up her car keys and left the house on the spot, not showing her face for an entire week.

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The third time I underwent chemotherapy, Asher Vance was at the airport, picking up Willow Sterling from her return. The side effects of chemo were pure torture, making me feel like I was living death. Even my doctor had gently hinted that late-stage treatment probably wouldn’t do much good. “You’ll be in immense pain, and it won’t prolong your life.” He was urging me to consider a dignified exit. I thought about it too. But I couldn’t. My daughter, Stella, was only four years old. I couldn’t let her grow up without a mother, just like I did. Asher Vance and I grew up together in the same upscale neighborhood. Our families were equally well-off, we were close in age, and even our parents had been close friends for years. Mrs. Vance used to tease me more times than I could count. “Harper, darling, when you were still just a bump in your mom’s belly, I already decided you’d be my daughter-in-law!” It was a long-standing family joke. As a kid, I didn’t quite get it, but I knew I really, really liked Asher. In high school and college, he was the most popular guy on campus, the star athlete, the one everyone looked up to. And I was the most beloved girl, the one everyone seemed to adore. When it came to being likable, I was definitely Asher’s equal. But I wasn’t likable to *him*. In college, he plunged into a whirlwind campus romance. Not with me, but with his classmate, Willow Sterling. They did everything every campus couple does: grand romantic gestures with flowers, sharing intimate moments over a single drink, kissing, and eventually, spending nights together. I only met Willow once. Asher brought her back to the Vance family mansion, declaring he wanted to marry her. Mrs. Vance, furious, threw Willow out, Asher right along with her. It was the height of a hurricane. The rain was so heavy it felt like it could knock you down. I saw Asher tumble onto the wet ground. Without a second thought, I grabbed an umbrella and rushed out. The wet pavement was treacherous. I slipped, and the sharp gravel tore into my knee. Blood mixed with the rain, streaming down my leg. But in that moment, I felt no pain. My eyes were fixed solely on Asher, slumped on the ground in the pouring rain. “Ash…” As I got closer, I finally saw Willow. She was drenched, her developed figure clearly outlined beneath her wet clothes. Her beautiful long hair plastered to her face, and her right hand was clutched tightly in Asher’s. “This is because of you, isn’t it? My mom disapproves because of you?” Asher looked at the umbrella I was holding over his head, but those were the only words he spoke to me. I stood there, stunned, watching him snatch the umbrella from my hand and, with Willow, slowly walk away. The hurricane raged. That day, Asher never once looked back. A year later, Asher and I got married. Three years into our marriage, I gave birth to our daughter, Stella. Seven years later, I was diagnosed with cancer. And Willow Sterling, who had vanished for seven years, returned to the country. In a SnapChat message from Willow, she called it karma. She was the only one who knew about my illness, besides my doctor. Because I begged her. “Just fifteen more days. After fifteen days, I’ll give Asher back to you, completely. Can you just…” “Can you let Stella think you’re her mother?”

The first thing I did after every chemo session was adjust my wig. It was too painful; lying in that hospital bed, I was far from presentable. But to the outside world, I was Mrs. Vance. Within my family, I was the sole heiress of the Reid fortune. Everything I learned from childhood was about maintaining composure and dignity. It was no different now. After fixing my wig and clothes, I didn’t look like a patient at all. I looked like a wealthy socialite just popping in for a routine check-up. “I just want a little more time. Time where I can still be myself.” “Mrs. Vance… Ms. Reid, based on human willpower, I’d say you have about fifteen days before you’ll need to be admitted. The pain management medication can only be administered in a special ward.” I knew exactly what he meant by “special medication”—something illegal outside of a hospital. Expensive, dangerous, and a way to lessen the agonizing pain at the very end. “Alright, I’ll be there.” Dr. Evans was a scholarship student my family had sponsored. He always treated me differently than he would a regular patient. “Ms. Reid, are you really not going to tell Mr. Vance? For this illness, family involvement…” “He’s not a doctor. What good would it do for him to know?” I forced a smile, the corners of my mouth stretching the skin on my face, bringing a faint sting, like a tiny blood vessel had burst. I instinctively touched my cheek. My phone buzzed just then. It was Asher. “Where are you?” “At the spa. Why?” I adjusted my voice, trying to make my lie sound more convincing. I heard Asher’s cold snort from the other end. “What kind of mother are you?! The nanny is calling *me*? Do I have to come home and deal with our kid?!” “Is there a problem with you handling our child?” I felt nothing, just answered him mechanically. “You know what’s going on with that child, deep down!” Asher hung up, tossing that line out like trash. I heard the roar of a plane engine and a cacophony of voices on his end. He was at the airport. Because right after he hung up, a SnapChat message from Willow popped up on my phone. The picture showed her and Asher intimately cuddled together, fingers intertwined, like they were already husband and wife. “Ms. Reid, I’ve arrived.” Where would Asher take her today? To the penthouse suite of a luxurious five-star hotel? A carefully arranged suburban villa? Or perhaps that cozy little cabin where they once found ecstasy? I imagined them tangled together, and a wave of nausea surged through me. *Ugh*. When I got out of the car, I couldn’t help but gag at the front door. The door swung open, and a tiny ball of fluff, my little Stella, rushed out and hugged my leg. “Mommy! Stella missed you so much! Boo hoo hoo!” Her adorable little face was streaked with tears and snot, wiping all over my dress. I forced down the discomfort in my body and picked her up. “My poor little Stella, why are you crying so sadly? Mommy will wipe it away.” My munchkin clung to my back, whimpering miserably. “Stella woke up and didn’t see Mommy! I called Daddy, and Daddy was mean to Stella! Mommy, I’m scared.” “Don’t be scared, Mommy went to buy Stella a present.” I pulled out the Frozen Queen hair clip I’d prepared earlier and tucked it into her hand. Little girls are easily pleased; she stopped crying instantly. “Mommy, look! Stella looks pretty!” “Yes, Stella looks beautiful.” A four-year-old wasn’t heavy, but for my current state, it was still a struggle. Before I even made it through the front door, a cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. My little girl noticed immediately and panicked, clumsily trying to wipe the sweat from my brow, clamoring to be put down. I was overjoyed when Stella was born. Besides being Asher’s and my child, her eyes and brows resembled Asher so much. But as she grew, I realized she was more like me. Good. She was more like me. My munchkin ordered dinner, and I, for a rare change, managed to get into the kitchen. As the scent of apples steamed through the air, the villa door opened. Asher Vance. Willow Sterling. And a boy. The boy’s hand was clasped in Asher’s.

“Why are *you* cooking?” Asher walked into the kitchen, first glaring at Maria, then letting his gaze fall on my hands. I didn’t stop stirring with the spatula, but he grabbed my hand abruptly. “Needle marks? I thought you went to the spa?” They were needle marks from IVs. My veins were difficult to find, and nurses often had to try several spots, leaving behind some noticeable traces. “Yeah, new treatment.” I tugged my sleeve down, lowering my gaze to the steaming pot. Asher’s mind was always so sharp. That’s what I used to love most about him. He could spot the subtle unhappiness in my childhood when classmates bullied me, and he could find hidden traps in complex business contracts. “You’d better not be messing with anything illegal.” Asher walked out of the kitchen. “After all, your parents…” “Enough.” I cut him off, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Are you going to bring up my parents in front of your mistress and her child?” I had never spoken to Asher like that before. His surprise was plastered all over his face, that handsome face I’d been obsessed with for years, shifting from shock to pure fury. He slammed the kitchen door shut and stared at me, his eyes burning. “How can you talk about Willow like that?!” “Oh? I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to call her that. Isn’t that what she is?” I scooped the apple pork chops onto a plate. This used to be Asher’s favorite dish. To perfectly suit his taste, I spent an entire summer cooped up in the kitchen, replacing my perfume scent with the smell of cooking oil. He used to say he didn’t like pampered rich girls, so I learned to do everything. My only moments of true indulgence were when I was with my parents. He always believed that even after marrying him, I remained willful and innocent. That’s why, before they died, my parents entrusted everything to Asher. They only asked one promise from him: never to divorce me, and to take care of me for life. And Asher kept his word. That was the most agonizing part. He wasn’t a complete monster. He had just enough decency, just that tiny bit of sincerity, to string me along year after year, day after day. Stringing me along as I watched him fly to the States again and again, watching him have a son with Willow. But we wouldn’t get a divorce. “Is that Harper cooking? It smells so good!” Willow invited herself in, breaking the tense silence between Asher and me. “I just got back with my son, Asher. I really didn’t know where else to stay, so I just followed him back to crash for a couple of days. I didn’t have your contact info, so I couldn’t tell you beforehand. So sorry about that!” Didn’t have my contact info? I remembered those scandalous photos she’d sent me and just found it amusing. I carried the plate out. Stella sat at the dining table, looking at me with a puzzled expression. “Mommy, who are this lady and this boy?” “This is… Daddy’s friend.” I wanted to use something truly vicious to describe her, but a sharp pain shot through my arm at that exact moment, like a clock chiming, jolting me awake from any illusion of happiness. Just like Willow’s uninvited presence, the pain reminded me. I only had fifteen days left.

Asher settled Willow and her son in the guest bedroom, which was very close to the master suite—the room he used to sleep in. After Stella was born, Asher and I started sleeping separately. When we first got married, I tried so hard to make him love me. We’d grown up together; I thought I knew his preferences. But day after day, I started to understand. I was just the villainess in some rich-girl-loves-the-wrong-guy novel, and Willow was his true love, his ‘white moonlight’. Nothing I did mattered. Asher said it himself. When he was drunk, he’d stare at me with bloodshot eyes and demand, “Do you really think I’ll love you just because you drove her away?” “Never. Don’t even dream of it!” I stopped dreaming. For the next seven years, I didn’t dream anymore. I just clung to that fifteen-year-old Asher, curled up, slowly living my own life. Too bad fate wasn’t on my side. I had just tucked Stella into bed when I found Willow waiting. She had dropped the humble act she put on for Asher and stood proudly in front of me. I heard she hadn’t left her career in these years and had become quite successful. She certainly exuded a sharp, professional edge that I lacked. When I was very young, I once imagined becoming someone like that. “How’s your health?” Willow asked, which made me raise an eyebrow. “Not good.” “I can tell.” A faint smile played on her lips. “You know, when Asher was making my bed earlier, he mentioned you. He said you’ve lost a lot of weight these past six months.” I was somewhat bewildered, wondering why Asher would say such a thing, and even more so why Willow was telling me this. Willow grabbed the hand with the needle marks and pressed down hard. The sharp pain snapped me back to reality. She leaned in close, almost whispering in my ear. “Your daughter… she’s too much like you. What you asked me to do, I need to think about it.” “What do you want?” “I’m not a bad person, and I have no interest in tormenting a child. The Vance family has a ridiculous amount of money; they can certainly afford one child. But, for the time you have left, you need to prove something to me.” “Prove that Asher doesn’t love you.” I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. The laughter grew, turning into a roaring, tear-inducing fit, so loud it even drew Asher out of the guest room. He stood in the doorway, watching me from a distance. This was something that needed to be proven? And *I* had to prove it? “Alright, Ms. Sterling, I’ll prove it to you.” With that, I raised my hand and swung, delivering a resounding slap across Willow’s face. The blow was so hard and crisp that her frameless glasses fell to the floor. I used almost all my strength. After the slap, I could barely stand. Willow was clearly stunned, looking at me with disbelief. And Asher, who had been standing at the guest room doorway, instinctively lunged forward, returning the slap to me.

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Julian Grayson’s first love, the woman he’d always adored, just gave birth to their third child. For our tenth anniversary, he paraded his *third* child by her in front of me, his voice strangely calm: “Serena’s children are the future of the Grayson legacy. As my wife, it’s your duty to raise them right.” I didn’t scream or break down like before. I just quietly took the baby. Loud, mocking laughter erupted, filling the ballroom. “I heard she used to throw terrible tantrums,” someone snickered. “Guess she finally learned her lesson.” “The Reynolds are bankrupt anyway,” someone whispered, “she knows fighting is pointless. No kids of her own, she’ll be tossed out eventually.” Julian simply watched, letting their snide remarks and humiliating stares wash over me. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth, then forced a small smile. “Julian, I want a divorce.” Julian looked like I’d just told the funniest joke. He sneered, “Aurora Reynolds, if you can cough up a billion dollars right now, I’ll sign the papers immediately. Otherwise, stop this pathetic act!” I didn’t say a word. I just dialled an unfamiliar number. “I accept your terms.” The man on the other end chuckled softly, his voice cultured and smooth. “A mere billion dollars. I can have it wired to you anytime.”

“But, are you sure you want to bind yourself to me for a man who’s not worth it?” The guests’ whispers sliced through me like knives. “I heard the Reynolds are drowning in debt. They’re only surviving because Mr. Grayson throws them scraps.” “Like a stray dog. If she leaves him, she’ll be living on the streets by tomorrow, won’t she?” I looked at the baby in my arms, a child that wasn’t mine, and felt a familiar ache in my heart. Ten years of marriage. Ten years of Julian and Serena, his childhood sweetheart and the woman who helped him build his empire, having three children and giving them to me to raise. Six years ago, I cried and raged, refusing them, utterly broken. Julian showed no mercy. He used the very survival of my family, the Reynolds, to force me into submission. Three years ago, I rebelled again. Julian, without a word, confiscated my cards and threw me out. I remember freezing in the winter cold, my mind hazy with despair, until I finally returned, weeping, begging Julian for forgiveness. We fell in love young. At his most devoted, he even shielded me from an enemy’s bullet. But now, we’d grown to despise the sight of each other. It was time to end this. “I’m sure.” The man let out a pleased laugh. “Three days from now, everything will be as you wish.” The call ended. I stood in silence for a long time. Seeing my red eyes and my quiet refusal to speak, Julian’s mocking expression softened slightly. “Aurora, raising Serena’s children well is what truly matters. As long as you’re obedient, the position of Mrs. Grayson is yours forever. No more drama, okay?” He was actually *coaxing* me, a rare occurrence, but it was all for her. I had no strength left to fight. Clutching the baby, I turned and walked away. As soon as I stepped back into the Grayson mansion, a picture book slammed into my forehead. The pain was so sharp I almost dropped the baby. Six-year-old Leo, their first child, was glaring at me, his face a mask of fury. “Why didn’t you warm up my milk?!” I winced, glancing at the two nannies nearby. One was filing her nails, the other scrolling on her phone, rolling her eyes. “Mr. Grayson said it’s *your* job to look after the young master. Don’t blame us for your laziness, Mrs. Grayson.” Right… Julian had arranged all of this. Julian deliberately made me care for his and Serena’s children, under the guise of “a wife’s duty.” I remembered when Leo had a high fever, how I stayed awake for three days and nights, nursing him, a weak premature baby. When he had chickenpox, I covered myself in ointment and quarantined with him. Despite the mess between Julian and Serena, the children were innocent… Yet, the children I poured my heart into raising were now staring at me like I was their enemy. Blood truly ran thicker than water. In their eyes, I was nothing more than a glorified nanny, to be ordered around. I warmed his milk, but as I handed it to him, he violently knocked it over. “Can’t you even take care of a child properly?” Julian was back. His cold voice came from behind me. He shoved me away. “What if you burned Leo?!” My throat tightened. I’d tested the milk. It wasn’t hot enough to burn anyone, and besides… I was the one who got splashed. Leo made a smug face at me, then burrowed into Julian’s arms. “Daddy, Mommy is clumsy. When are you taking me out to play?!” Julian ruffled his hair fondly. “In three days, we’ll all go out with Serena, and bring your brother and sister.” Serena’s smile stiffened when she heard him say her name, but she clutched Julian’s arm even tighter. I noticed an emerald ring on her finger – a precious heirloom my mother had entrusted to Julian before she died. My marriage to Julian was a billion-dollar deal. Thirteen years ago, when Julian wasn’t yet the head of the Grayson Empire, we were deeply in love. Then, I was accidentally misdiagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. To avoid burdening him and jeopardizing his fight for the family business, I faked family opposition and broke up with him. Later, when my family, the Reynolds, faced bankruptcy, Julian appeared with a billion dollars. He said if I married him, he’d use the money to save my family. I was so naive back then. I thought he loved me too much to let me go, that I was getting a second chance at our shattered love. I never imagined he came back filled with hatred. On her deathbed, my mother entrusted him with that ring. He promised, with tears in his eyes, he’d treat me well. Now, that ring sat on Serena’s hand, a bitter mockery of everything. “Aurora,” she purred, noticing my gaze, “Julian said this looks beautiful on me.” She playfully wiggled her hand. “He said you’re always focused on the kids, why bother with appearances? It’s just a waste on you.” Julian casually added, “It was just sitting there, collecting dust anyway.” My heart felt a complicated, inexpressible bitterness. I just wanted to turn and leave. “Oh!” Serena suddenly shrieked. The ring slipped from her finger, shattering into pieces on the floor. My instinct was to bend down and pick it up, but then everything went black as I crashed into the coffee table. As blood streamed down my temple, I caught a glimpse of Julian’s momentary panic. He frowned, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady me. But then Serena suddenly cried out in pain, clutching her ankle. He instantly pulled his hand back, sweeping Serena into his arms with anxious concern. I fell to the floor with a thud.

“Oh, Aurora, how clumsy can you be?” Serena leaned into Julian’s embrace, her voice sickly sweet. “Julian, should we call a doctor to check on her?” Julian frowned, glancing at me. After a moment of hesitation, his tone grew impatient. “It’s just a scratch. Don’t be so dramatic.” He turned and carried Serena and their children upstairs to rest. I walked alone to my small, forgotten annex. Behind me, the nannies’ sneers were unconcealed. “Still putting on her ‘lady of the house’ act, huh? Hope she breaks her neck!” I curled up on my narrow bed, sleeping until midnight. The wound on my forehead still throbbed. Footsteps approached outside the door, followed by Julian’s cold voice. “Grandfather’s eightieth birthday gala is tomorrow. You’d better behave yourself.” I didn’t respond. The door was abruptly shoved open. Julian’s tall figure stood in the doorway, a first-aid kit in his hand. Before I could react, he roughly pulled me up, his grip so strong it made me wince. “You know it hurts, so why didn’t you put on some medicine?” He stared at my wound, a cold smirk on his face, but skillfully took out an alcohol wipe. “You’re not trying to let Grandfather see you looking like this tomorrow so he’ll take your side, are you?” “Julian,” I asked softly, “why did you marry me?” His movements paused for a beat, then he mockingly pinched my chin. “Because you needed the Grayson family’s billion dollars.” In the darkness, I silently laughed, tears streaming down my face. I should have known. He didn’t marry me out of love. For ten years, he’d resented my parents for tearing us apart, unaware that I left him because I was misdiagnosed with cancer. By the time I wanted to tell him the truth, he hated me to his core. I pulled the divorce papers from my bag and placed them on the bed. Over the years, I’d suggested divorce a few times, but it never worked. The Reynolds were bankrupt, and Julian had me confined to the house, taking care of the children. I had no way to come up with a billion dollars for my freedom, as he’d demanded. He knew it too, never taking my requests seriously. He sounded impatient. “Aurora, are you ever going to stop this drama?” “This time, it’s real.” My voice was soft, yet firm. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. Even if you don’t believe me, my feelings for you…” Serena’s sweet, whiny voice drifted down from upstairs. “Julian~ Where did you put my pink lingerie~?” Julian immediately let go of me, crumpling the divorce papers and tossing them into the trash. “Alright, you’ve squandered every last dime you ever had. Besides me, who else would give you a billion dollars?” The door slammed shut. The next day, I forced myself to apply makeup, covering the wound on my forehead, and arrived at the birthday gala. Julian’s assistant, however, seated me in the very last row, in a corner, at the same table as the Grayson family’s drivers and nannies. “Well, isn’t that Mrs. Grayson?” A socialite passed by, covering her mouth with a delicate laugh. “What are you doing sitting here?” I sat down in silence, whispers drifting from behind me. “I heard Mr. Grayson brought another child back. Miss Hayes is so fertile, so blessed with children. No wonder he adores her.” “Right? And his legitimate wife is stuck at the staff tables. So embarrassing.” I gripped my napkin, my knuckles white. A moment later, Julian strode over, Serena trailing behind him. “Who told you to sit here?” The assistant stammered, “Miss Hayes said you wanted Mrs. Grayson to sit here.” Serena’s face instantly paled with feigned panic. But Julian merely frowned, saying nothing. Her triumphant smile returned. I followed Julian to greet Grandfather. After a few kind words and some loving concern for me, Grandfather turned to Serena, his expression displeased. “The Grayson family threshold isn’t for just anyone to cross. Next time, don’t bring strays.” Serena’s face went chalk-white. Just then, Leo and Mia suddenly rushed to her, sweetly calling her ‘Serena’. Serena’s expression softened considerably. After all, she had given Julian three children. Even if Grandfather disliked her, he would still give her face for the children’s sake. Grandfather snorted and called Julian away. I was about to stand up and leave when Serena, with a cold smile, suddenly pressed down on my shoulder. “Aurora, let’s play a game.”

Serena pulled a thermos from her handbag. In a blind spot, hidden from most eyes, she suddenly grabbed Mia’s wrist. “Good girl,” she cooed, covering the child’s eyes. “Mommy’s going to do a magic trick for you.” “No!” I lunged forward to stop her, but she shoved me away. The next second, a piercing scream echoed through the grand hall. Mia’s fair arm instantly swelled and blistered. Serena, quick as a flash, shoved the thermos into my hand. “Help me!” Serena knelt, clutching a wailing, heartbroken Mia. “Aurora, if you have a problem with me, come at me! Why would you scald Mia with boiling water?! She’s just a child!” I froze, stunned. I couldn’t believe she would do something so twisted and heartless just to frame me, even hurting her own child! Julian rushed over, saw Mia’s injuries, and without a second thought, kicked me to the ground. He roared, “How could you lay a hand on such a small child?! Are you even human?!” Julian called the family doctor to treat Mia’s burns. Leo suddenly burst into tears. I lay on the ground, struggling to push myself up. My trembling hand reached out to Leo. “Leo, baby, don’t be scared… tell Daddy… who it was just now…” Before I could finish, Leo recoiled in terror, hiding behind Julian, sobbing. “It was Mommy! She threw hot water on Mia! I’m so scared!” I instantly froze, my outstretched hand falling limply. “Just because I brought Serena to one party, you’re jealous to this extent? They’re the children you raised with your own hands!” I opened my mouth, a metallic taste of blood growing stronger in my throat. It finally coalesced into a barely audible, bitter laugh. I looked into Julian’s furious eyes. “Julian, do you really believe that?” “He’s only six! Can he lie?!” The surrounding guests buzzed with chatter. Someone pointed at me, calling me “vicious.” Someone else whispered, “No wonder she can’t have children, her heart is so cruel.” The tide of accusations washed over me, drowning me. What hurt more was Julian’s hateful gaze, like a knife twisting in my heart. In his mind, I was just a jealous, wicked woman. Serena nestled against Julian, her eyes red. “Aurora, if you’re sick, you need help. How could you do something so cruel?” Leo’s crying grew louder, saying he was scared of me. Julian pointed at me, roaring, “Aurora, get out! Get out of our sight!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, shakily stood up, and pulled the divorce papers, which had never left my bag, from my purse. I offered a desolate smile. “Yes, I should go… Sign the papers, and I’ll obediently disappear.” Julian’s anger flared. He stood up abruptly, ripped the divorce papers to shreds, and threw them in my face. “Without a billion dollars, don’t even *think* about divorce! You, Aurora Reynolds, will be my wife for life!” Outside, the rain poured down. I stumbled into the deluge, the cold raindrops mixing with my tears, washing over me. Ten years of marriage, of genuine love and unspoken endurance. Tomorrow, when I got that money, it would all be over, right? The next second, my vision went black, and I tumbled down the stairs. I braced for impact, expecting to hit the bottom, but instead, I fell into a warm, strong embrace. “Just a little late, and you’ve already managed to get yourself into such a mess, hmm?” When I next woke, I was in a hospital bed. The man before me had handsome, striking features. He was Caspian Thorne, the current head of the powerful Monarch Group. I was about to speak when I noticed a familiar diamond cufflink on his suit sleeve. It was the gift I’d given a lifesaver on my eighteenth birthday. “Finally recognized me? My unrequited love for you for over a decade hasn’t been in vain.” Caspian leaned closer, his voice deep and magnetic. Memories flooded back. When I was eighteen, I was kidnapped. A boy risked his life to save me. As he left, I pressed my most precious birthday gift into his hand… “It’s… you…” My voice trembled. I instinctively tried to sit up. He quickly held me, his expression suddenly tense. “Careful. The doctor said you’re pregnant. Eight weeks.” My entire body stiffened. The timing was exactly when Julian last touched me. He’d been completely drunk that night, mistaking me for Serena. Caspian sneered. “Interesting. Julian Grayson kicks you out, but has no idea his wife is carrying his child.” Then he smirked, his gaze burning as he stared at me. “But not for long.” I was so overwhelmed by the rapid succession of news, I couldn’t process it. “What?” Caspian chuckled. “The billion dollars has already been transferred. He’ll sign whether he wants to or not.” At that moment, Julian was sitting in the villa garden, watching Serena and the two children play on the lawn. “Aurora didn’t come back all night. How can she be so stubborn with you, darling? The baby cried all night, it broke my heart.” Julian was about to respond with a cold laugh when his phone vibrated. He casually checked the message, still thinking about how he’d teach me a lesson when I returned. But the message on his screen made his smile freeze instantly— [Your account has received a transfer of $1,000,000,000.00. Memo: Divorce Redemption]

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After receiving the last message from my husband, Liam, before his supposed plane crash, I felt utterly hopeless. I leaped from the hospital rooftop, but death wouldn’t have me. The moment consciousness returned, a tear of despair traced a path down my cheek. *Why wouldn’t it let me die?* Then, I heard hushed whispers from the hallway outside my hospital room. “Didn’t Liam say he’d pass this ‘widow’ of his around for us to have some fun after he faked his death? I don’t want anything to do with a paralytic! What do we do now?” “Exactly! Aria got twenty-something fractures and still didn’t die from the fall. When they brought her in, she was twisted like a pretzel! How many scars is she going to have? I can’t get it up for a broken mess like that!” “Just wait it out! At least until she can pose in bed, right? Otherwise, what’s the difference between her and an inflatable doll?” “Didn’t the doctor say? Her spinal cord is damaged, she might be in a wheelchair for life. Liam, man, you tricked her so badly, don’t you feel even a little bit bad?” Liam’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “It’s Aria’s honor to make Chloe happy.” “To keep me tied down forever, he lied, saying my eye cornea was donated by his mom. Did he really think I didn’t know it was Chloe’s mom who donated it? He loves playing games so much, let him taste what it’s like to be truly deceived!” The moment I heard Liam’s voice, I thought I was in heaven. Now, I was in hell. … “Liam really knows how to train a woman!” “Seriously, all these years, she’s donated bone marrow for you, taken the fall for you, and done it all willingly! You gotta teach us how to find a wife that obedient!” Liam scoffed. “It’s easy, really. Find someone whose parents died young, who battles depression. Give them a few crumbs of kindness, and they’ll put you before their own life.” “Liam, if you mess with her like this, aren’t you afraid she’ll actually commit suicide from depression?” Chloe’s voice was dismissive. “Please, it’s clearly an act! Besides, if she’s so quick to kill herself, then she might as well. She’s just wasting space anyway!” A man’s gentle voice chimed in, “Chloe’s right. Even if I found some entertainment from someone who constantly has mental breakdowns, I’d only last a little while before rushing back to my little sunshine, Chloe, to recharge.” “If she’s going to die, it better not be because of me. That’s just bad luck!” My eyes widened in disbelief, my mind a blank slate. My dad passed away when I was very young. After my mom died, I lost my last remaining family. I spiraled into a severe depression, even attempting to end my life. It was Liam who pulled me back from the brink. He gave me hope, encouraged me to study, showed me the world, and guided me out of the darkness. I gave him my entire being, treating him as the new light in my life. But he saw me as nothing more than a toy for him and his true love, Chloe. Even my mom’s eye cornea, for some reason, was now credited to someone else. I desperately wanted to wipe away these damn tears from my face, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t even lift my arm. I didn’t even notice when Liam walked in. His voice was light. “Aria, why are you crying? I’m perfectly fine.” He followed my gaze to the corner of my eye, seeing the large wet patch on my pillow. His voice instantly tensed. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain somewhere?” Seeing that I said nothing, only staring, tears streaming uncontrollably, he panicked. He turned and roared at his friends, “Doctor! Go get a doctor, now!” “Aria, hang in there! The doctor will be here any second! You can’t let anything happen to you!” The doctor arrived and said I was fine, but Liam didn’t believe it. He forced the doctor to perform a full body scan. “The patient has severe fractures all over her body. We don’t recommend frequent movement because—” He cut him off, his voice firm. “Her body is most important. Do it now.” The doctor quickly added, “She just had casts and metal plates put in. No matter how careful we are, moving her will inevitably hurt her.” Liam’s brow furrowed, and he roared, “I said do it! Are you deaf?! If anything happens to my wife, can you take responsibility?!” With that, he scooped me up into a princess carry, and the doctors couldn’t stop him. My body groaned with sickening cracks, and I instantly burst into tears from the pain, unable to utter a single word. I could only shake my head frantically. His voice was gentle yet firm. “You’re uncomfortable, aren’t you? I’ll make sure they cure you!” Liam carried me through various departments, and everyone we passed gave me envious looks. One young girl even squealed, “She’s so lucky! Her husband must love her so much!” I was tossed and turned for a full check-up, only to find nothing wrong. But the newly placed metal plates had all been dislocated by his frantic movements. The doctors had no choice but to reopen my wounds and re-fix them. Liam finally relaxed, gently stroking my hair. “Good, I’m glad you’re okay.” “I know you must want to go home. I’ve arranged for the best medical team to care for you there.” “But I need to go to a therapy session. The plane crash was a huge trauma. Aria, you go home first. I’ll come take care of you after my treatment.” I was too numb from the pain to react. I let them transfer me to a wheelchair and hand me over to his assistant. But the moment we left the room, the assistant passed me off to someone else. I strained to turn my head, only catching sight of a strange man. A shiver of fear ran down my spine. 2 “What are you doing?!” “Ms. Chloe has a gift for you.” I was wheeled to the back door of a hospital room, and through the crack in the door, I could see the bed. Inside the room, two familiar figures were tangled together, locked in a passionate kiss. “I thought you were going to see your therapist? How did you end up here?” “Little minx, you’re the one who seduced me. You look so hot in that nurse’s uniform.” “Liam, your wife is still sick, you know.” Liam grumbled, “Don’t even get me started. She’s got fractures, and I have to wait on her. She tries to kill herself every other day, she’s a total psycho. Chloe, seeing how pathetic I am, you’ll have to spend more time with me.” Chloe giggled sweetly. “Okay, then let Nurse Chloe check what kind of illness you have?” “Lovesickness. It’s a good session of loving you that’ll cure it…” Their intimate whispers relentlessly pierced my ears. I struggled to lift my only uninjured limb, my left hand, and clamped it over my mouth, desperate to stifle my cries. I wanted to escape. The wheelchair brake was right in front of me. I frantically willed my right hand to move, but I couldn’t even lift it a millimeter. I thrashed wildly in despair, tumbling out of the wheelchair onto the floor. “What was that sound?!” Chloe casually glanced at me through the crack in the door, then cupped Liam’s face, preventing him from turning. “Someone’s outside, don’t worry about it.” I lay splayed on the floor like a ragdoll, gasping for breath, tears streaming. I don’t know how much time passed before the sounds from inside finally stopped. Chloe walked out, her face flushed, and looked down at me, sneering. “Sister, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.” She helped me back into the wheelchair and pushed me out. “Envious? Have you ever seen Liam so passionate? Do you know what positions he likes?” “Did you really think he loved you just because he married you? He was just obligated to repay a debt.” I screamed, indignant. “I don’t believe it! You have no idea what Liam and I went through together! You won’t trick me!” Chloe suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, pulled out her phone, and tossed it onto my lap. “Oh, you’re still proud, huh?” “You, you’re just a toy for our amusement.” The screen displayed a social media account’s record log. The username leaped out at me: **My Dog-Training Diary.** The earliest post was three years ago. “Tricking my love-struck girlfriend into believing I was accused of plagiarism. What will she do?” “Update: It was hilarious watching her kneel in the office and take the fall for me, hahaha, so stupid!” “She dropped out, and I got into a prestigious university with my research award!” Then, a year ago, our wedding. “What’s it like to ditch your fiancée on your wedding day?” “A little boring, I smoothed things over with a few words the next day.” “But, the first night with my true love was the best wedding gift.” Then, last month. “Tricking my devoted wife into believing my mom had leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant. Guess if she’ll donate?” “LOL, she was pregnant and took induction shots to donate cord blood for my mom. She miscarried with massive bleeding and still begged the doctors to draw more of her bone marrow!” Every single entry, over a hundred posts, he had documented in clear, precise detail. My fingertips whitened from pressing so hard, tears raining down like broken pearls onto the screen. Unbeknownst to me, Chloe had pushed me to the hospital rooftop. She bent down, helpfully scrolling to the latest post. “Tricking my devoted wife into believing I crashed. What will she do?” The latest reply was an hour ago: “So funny, she actually jumped off a building to kill herself! Good thing she didn’t die, otherwise, this account wouldn’t have any more content!” I had been so heartbroken for him that I wanted to die, still grieving even the moment I woke up, and I was just a fool. Chloe savored my expression, her voice mocking. “Aria, big sister, have you ever felt like your life has been particularly dramatic and exciting these past few years?” “Those were all my ideas!” Her smile slowly faded, replaced by a vicious snarl. “But why didn’t you die?! You should have just died cleanly!” “Now you’re still alive, looking like this ghost, and hogging Liam! Who are you trying to disgust?!” With that, she slowly pushed me closer to the edge of the rooftop. Seeing the height of several stories, I panicked and begged for mercy. “I was wrong! I’ll never appear before him again, please don’t kill me! Please!” A sinister voice echoed behind me. “Too late.” She raised her hand, shoved me hard, and then jumped herself. Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed hold of us both. 3 It was Liam! His eyes were filled only with me, his anxious voice trembling. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Why did you come back up here to try and die again? I told you I’d cure you, don’t do anything reckless!” My voice trembled. “It wasn’t me, it was Chlo—” Chloe suddenly burst into loud sobs. “Sister Aria, I don’t know why she invited me to the rooftop, but when I saw her, she was already at the edge. She forced me to jump, saying why should I be able to run around happily, and if I didn’t jump, she’d throw herself down again! I had no choice but to jump, but I didn’t expect her to lose her balance and fall too!” Liam’s gaze instantly turned cold. “Aria, when did you become so malicious?!” “No! I didn’t…” Chloe continued to wail, “Liam, you can’t hold both of us by yourself! Sister Aria is already like this, if she falls again, she’ll die!” “Let go of me, save Sister Aria!” Liam looked at me, then at Chloe. After only a few seconds of hesitation, I felt the hand holding me slowly loosen. “Aria, you already have fractures. Another fall won’t make things much worse. But Chloe isn’t injured yet, and I simply can’t bear for both of you to be stuck in bed.” “Besides, this time it’s your own doing, consider it a lesson learned. I won’t hold it against you after this.” He pursed his lips and sighed. “Aria, protect your head, okay?” “Close your eyes if you’re scared, the pain will pass quickly. I’ll come right down to get you.” With that, he released my hand. I kept my eyes wide open. Liam’s expression showed sadness, anger, worry—I couldn’t read it. Perhaps, in all these years, I had never truly understood him. The hospital was only four stories high. I was momentarily caught by a crooked tree in mid-air, and when I hit the ground, I didn’t even lose consciousness. But it hurt so much, like my entire body had been shattered into countless pieces, scattered across the ground. This time, Liam hadn’t lied to me. Before the concrete beneath me had even warmed, he arrived, holding Chloe in his arms. About fifteen meters away, Chloe struggled out of Liam’s embrace with a look of worry, then jogged towards me. She knelt on the ground and helped me up, crying loudly, but not a single tear fell from her face. Instead, she smiled mockingly. “Aria, what do you have to fight me with?” “Whether I’m right or wrong, Liam will always be on my side!” My body was flooded with adrenaline, and I instantly felt no pain. Gathering all my strength, I raised my left hand and slapped Chloe hard. “Aria! What are you doing?!” The warmth on Liam’s face froze, and he roared, rushing over to scoop Chloe up and shield her behind him. My head suddenly lost its support and hit the ground. Everything went black, and the sounds around me grew fainter. “I thought this would be enough to make you reflect, but I didn’t expect you to be so stubborn. I’ve been too soft on you!” He coldly dialed a number, telling the doctor not to bother coming. “I was worried you fell badly, but looking at how you just hit someone, you’re full of energy! You can just lie here yourself!” With that, he took Chloe’s hand and turned to leave. Chloe wasn’t satisfied. “Liam, are we just going to leave like this?” “Sister Aria clearly hasn’t realized her mistake. If we don’t punish her, what if she threatens me again next time?” Liam frowned slightly. “She’s unconscious. Isn’t leaving her for a day and a night enough?” Chloe deliberately showed him the side of her face that I had slapped red, looking wronged. “She framed me. Shouldn’t I decide how to teach her a lesson? Let me give her one more dare. Tell her that you have enemies looking for revenge, and the only way they’ll let you go is if she pleases a dozen men. Can we do that?” 4 Chloe’s voice grew softer and softer. “What man would want a woman who’s broken like this? I just want to scare her, teach her a lesson…” Liam looked at me, lying unconscious, and didn’t speak for a moment. After a long pause, he said in a low voice, “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Chloe burst into tears, covering her face, and ran off. “Fine, I’m just too petty! She’s your wife, I’m nothing to you! Anyway, you saved me, so whatever! Next time, just let me die!” The hesitation in Liam’s eyes vanished, and he immediately pulled her into a comforting embrace, his voice tender. “Don’t talk nonsense. I can’t even stand to see you get a small scratch. If you died, how would I live?” “Okay, I’ll do whatever you say.” My consciousness faded, tears welling in my eyes. When I woke up again, everything around me was dim, and I was lying on a bed. Liam was helping to secure the plaster splints on my body. He meticulously checked each connection for looseness, his movements gentle, as if afraid of hurting me. Seeing that I was awake, he lowered his gaze and gently stroked the corner of my eye. “Aria, I’m being targeted by my enemies. They want my life, unless you… go appease them…” “Will you help me? I won’t mind.” “From now on, you’ll be my lifesaver. I’ll love you forever.” He let go of my hand without waiting for my reply. Before leaving, he gave detailed instructions to the people outside the door. “I’ve already spoken with her, she’ll cooperate. Don’t hurt her, and don’t turn on the lights so she won’t remember.” With that, over a dozen men entered one after another, their eyes fixated on me with a greasy gaze. I spoke to the man standing closest to me. “Can I borrow your phone for a moment?” He sneered. “Calling for backup? Your husband already gave you to us to play with. Who else can save you?” My eyes were vacant, and I spoke as if my oil had run out and my lamp was dim. “Not to make a call. I just want to glance at a certain social media account.” “Just one look, please.” I got the phone as I wished and searched for the “Dog Training Log” account. I so hoped that everything I heard before I passed out was false, but the truth always stabbed me violently. “Tricking my wife, who just woke up from a suicide attempt, into believing enemies are after me and she needs to repay their debt with her body. Will she agree?” A new user commented below: “What happened to your wife? Why did she try to commit suicide?” “Oh, she has depression. Just typical behavior for her.” “Then why are you still messing with her like that?” “She’s going to die sooner or later anyway, so what’s wrong with getting some entertainment before she does? If you don’t like it, leave. Nobody’s forcing you to watch!” My left hand fell weakly onto the bed, my breathing becoming rapid. It felt like a wire had snapped in my brain. The severe depression I had suppressed for years finally erupted completely at that moment. Extreme somatic symptoms caused my whole body to tremble uncontrollably, like I was having a seizure. My vision blurred. I reached out and grabbed onto something, anything. “Kill me! I want to die so bad! Let me die! Just let me die!!” The men around me jumped in fright. “What the hell is wrong with her?! Didn’t he say she was just a paralytic with broken bones? Is she sick or something?! I don’t want to be involved in a death!” A man from the back pushed his way to the front, grumbling, “You guys are picky when there’s fun to be had. I love playing with psychos!” “She wants to die, doesn’t she? Guys, let’s play her to death, hahaha!” A cold sensation spread across my chest, and I closed my eyes in resignation. Suddenly, the room door was kicked open with a loud bang. A voice rang out: “How is it that you’re always either being tricked, or on your way to being tricked?” 5 With one punch, he knocked a man down. The remaining standing men fled in terror. He strode over, took off his jacket, and covered me with it.

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The news hit me like a train wreck: my first love had died in a car crash. And then, at my own engagement party, my fiancée slit her wrists, giving up on everything. It was then, and only then, that I finally understood: her heart had always belonged to Julian. I was reborn, back to the very day of our engagement. But she never showed up. Instead, she booked a billion-dollar luxury yacht and married Julian. I watched their wedding trending across every major news headline, then turned and walked away. Six years later, I returned to the country with my wife. At an exclusive high-society gala, I unexpectedly ran into Chloe again. By now, she was the heiress to a massive business empire, celebrated as an outstanding female executive. She was clinging intimately to Julian, chatting with the guests, radiating success. When I pushed through the crowd, looking for someone, her brows furrowed in annoyance. “Six years, and you still haven’t given up on me? Even if you offered to be my assistant and polish my shoes, my feelings for you wouldn’t change.” I ignored her, reaching under a long table to pull out my daughter, who was secretly stuffing her face with cake. Suddenly, Chloe’s eyes widened, turning red. Her voice trembled as she accused me, “How could you marry someone else and have a child? Didn’t you say you’d only marry me?!”

I never thought I’d run into Chloe again, not at a gala on my very first day back in the country. She was dazzling, draped around Julian, her gaze soft and affectionate. Amidst the clinking glasses and flowing conversations, guests showered them with compliments. “Ms. Davies and her husband have been married for years, yet they seem even more in love than when they first tied the knot.” “Mr. Julian is truly blessed. Ms. Davies threw this party tonight to welcome the Princess Royal of the East Coast elite. Her business ventures are about to take off like a rocket!” Chloe smiled, looking tenderly at Julian. “Marrying Julian is the greatest blessing of my life. His touring art exhibition is coming up in a few days; I hope everyone can come show their support.” At the mention of the art exhibition, someone in the crowd asked, puzzled, “Ms. Davies, you’ve been married for six years, but why has Mr. Julian never held an exhibition before?” Julian cared so much about his art. How could he not have held an exhibition for six years? It was a question I’d always wondered myself. In my past life, Chloe loved Julian so fiercely she was willing to die for him. Even after I was reborn, she defied her powerful family, the Davies, just to marry him. Julian’s pleasant smile faltered instantly when he heard the question. “Painting is quite draining, and Chloe is simply worried I might strain my eyes.” The men in the room listened, both envious and praising Chloe as the perfect wife. In my past life, after I married Chloe, I wanted to hold a design exhibition. But Chloe’s mother scolded me, accusing me of trying to steal the spotlight. She constantly felt I wasn’t good enough for Chloe and repeatedly tried to get her to divorce me. After Chloe became the group heiress, her mother actually had a lawyer draft divorce papers. Now, Chloe handled Julian’s art exhibition entirely herself, with him not lifting a finger. It turned out, in my last life, I was the one who was never truly loved. I let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a figure beneath the long table, ready to follow them. But then I bumped into a waiter carrying a tray of red wine. Glass shattered everywhere, and wine splattered all over me. “Watch where you’re going! That was for the Princess Royal’s husband!” “If the gentleman complains, you’ll be out of a job!” The waiter’s loud scolding immediately drew everyone’s attention. I looked up and explained, “It’s fine, I didn’t really like that wine anyway.” Chloe looked over, startled. “Alex, what are you doing here?” Others quickly chimed in, “Who is this?” Chloe’s tone was dismissive. “Just a university classmate. He was totally obsessed with me back then; the whole school knew he wanted to marry me. After graduation, he still spent all his energy trying to chase me down.” “But my heart has always belonged only to Julian.” Hearing this, everyone’s gazes and voices filled with mocking amusement. Chloe gripped her wine glass, her voice stern. “Please, don’t spread rumors! I don’t want my husband to misunderstand!” Julian wrapped an arm around Chloe’s shoulders, his voice soft. “Oh, darling, don’t be upset. Mr. Alex must just be terribly infatuated to follow you all the way here.” Chloe’s brow furrowed. She turned to someone beside her. “Take him out. I’ll handle this.” With that, she leaned in and kissed Julian’s cheek, her eyes filled with sweet affection, not even sparing me a glance. “It’s only because Ms. Davies is so kind, otherwise, you’d be in serious trouble.” “Get out of here. This isn’t a place for someone like you.” I struggled to break free from their grip. “I’m here looking for someone.” The staff smirked, looking at my rough linen clothes with blatant disdain. “We’ve seen plenty of men like you, trying to win Ms. Davies’ favor with pathetic infatuation. Don’t waste your breath.” They finished speaking, then forcibly shoved me out the door. “Stop.” Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind me.

Chloe walked over, instructing the staff, “He’s here for me. You can go.” She approached me, her tone sharp with warning. “This is a reception for the Princess Royal of the East Coast elite. Don’t make a scene here!” “No matter how much you adore me, you shouldn’t be here.” “I’m going to make things perfectly clear to you today!” She leaned into Julian’s embrace, her eyes overflowing with tender affection for him, but when she faced me, her voice was ice cold. “In this lifetime, I only love Julian. No matter what you do, I will never like you. Just give up!” Julian’s face lit up with a smug grin. “Mr. Alex, I’ve seen desperate people, but I’ve never seen anyone as shameless as you.” “If word of your behavior gets out, what woman would ever agree to marry you?” He was practically oozing mockery. “Still, Chloe is so exceptional, I can understand why you can’t forget her. After all, she’s the heir to a huge conglomerate now, and there are always men trying to curry favor with her.” He glanced at my rough linen clothes, his expression even more contemptuous. “You’re thirty years old and still so unkempt. What woman would ever look at you?” With that, he took off the gold watch from his wrist and tossed it at me. “I’m a charitable man. Consider this watch my gift to you. Go buy some decent clothes.” I glanced down at my clothes. I’d rushed out of the house and hadn’t changed, but what I found comfortable and practical, they saw as a disgrace. Seeing my silence, Chloe’s brow furrowed. She then pulled off the ruby pendant from her neck, her voice laced with impatience and warning. “And this pendant, it should be enough for you to live on. Just stop coming to find me.” When I remained unmoved, her face instantly darkened, and her voice held a touch of anger. “Alex, what do you mean? You don’t want my things?” What a joke. I was already married. I shouldn’t accept anything from another woman, especially not jewelry. Besides, my wife was the Princess Royal of the East Coast elite. Taking these cheap trinkets from Chloe would be a direct slap in her face. I said calmly, “Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to take your things anymore?” Chloe’s face turned even colder. “You…” She pointed at me, but ultimately said nothing. I politely refused. “I don’t need any of these.” My refusal again made Chloe’s expression turn even worse. She gripped the pendant tightly in her hand, veins bulging. “If I wasn’t looking at you as an old university classmate, seeing you in such a pathetic state, do you think I’d bother with you?” “Alright, alright, don’t get angry.” Julian wrapped an arm around her waist, gently comforting her. “Darling, you’re just too sentimental. Since Mr. Alex is so ungrateful, just let him figure things out for himself.” “Look, Mr. Alex has a pretty face. I’m sure he’ll find a way to survive. We don’t need to worry about him.” Every word Julian spoke was meant to imply I was a frivolous man. But I remembered all his disgraceful past actions perfectly well.

In my previous life, Chloe didn’t marry Julian, not just because of family status, but because Julian used to be a kept man, supported by some rich socialite. Mr. Davies Sr. had declared that if Chloe insisted on marrying him, she would be stripped of her heir status and thrown out of the Davies family. Chloe was willing to give up everything for Julian. Her mother became so ill with rage she had to be hospitalized. But Julian wasn’t willing to live a life of poverty. He turned around and became the trophy husband of a wealthy foreign woman. Chloe was consumed by grief and illness. If I hadn’t stayed by her side, caring for her and helping her through those painful days, she probably would have died. Afterwards, she developed a habit of heavy drinking at social events, and I would always be there to help her finish glass after glass of hard liquor, which eventually ruined my stomach. She loved skiing, so I’d accompany her, even if it meant tumbling down snowy slopes and injuring myself; I’d always insist on staying by her side. Later, she said she was willing to marry me, swearing she would love me for a lifetime. I asked her if she still thought of Julian. After all, her home still contained all of Julian’s things, untouched. I’d seen her more than once, holed up in that room, drinking miserably. She looked at me, her voice firm. “Now, my heart is only for you. You are the one I want to marry. From the moment Julian trampled on my true feelings, we had no relationship whatsoever.” “I will love you well and stay by your side forever.” I thought my sincerity had won Chloe’s true heart. But after six years together, not only did I give up my beloved design career, I became a house husband. Chloe even kept delaying our wedding. I asked her repeatedly, only to be verbally abused by her mother, who claimed Chloe was at a critical stage in her career and that I wasn’t supporting her, constantly bringing up the wedding. Because of this, the entire East Coast elite circles laughed at me, saying I was nothing more than a glorified house husband in the Davies family. I got angry again and again. Chloe, just to calm me down, agreed to get engaged first. But at our engagement party, I accidentally overheard her conversation with her mother. That’s when I realized she didn’t want to marry me at all. Even the wedding suit she’d had designed was custom-tailored to Julian’s exact measurements. I had a huge fight with her. Right then, news broke that Julian had died in a car accident. Chloe stood there, stunned and silent, then eventually slit her wrists. Before dying, she calmly looked at me, weeping and kneeling before her. “From beginning to end, Julian was the only one in my heart. He was my truest love. Everything before was a lie.” “If he’s gone, I won’t live either.” Tears streamed down her face. “Julian, I’m coming to marry you now.” In that moment, my heart turned to ash. So, when I was reborn back to the engagement party, and Chloe didn’t show up, I wasn’t surprised at all. Media headlines reported that she’d spent a billion dollars on a luxury yacht to marry Julian, their wedding becoming a top trending topic. And I simply turned and walked away. I never thought I’d see her here, in this life. I was about to leave, but Julian still wanted to humiliate me further. “Mr. Alex, if you really don’t want these designer things, how about you come work as a security guard at our company?” “Our security guards get to see celebrities and important figures every day, it’s quite prestigious.” “If you give up trying to seduce Chloe, I might even promote you to head of security.” As soon as he finished speaking, people around him immediately chimed in. “A security guard job at Davies Group is a great gig! Why aren’t you kneeling and thanking Mr. Julian?” “Mr. Julian is truly benevolent. If anyone tried to seduce my wife, I’d tear them apart.” Seeing their taunts and sneers, a flicker of anger flashed in my eyes. “I’m already married, and I have absolutely no inappropriate thoughts about Chloe.” “Stop spreading fabricated rumors!” Chloe scoffed. “Alex, do you think saying that will make me regret anything?” “Using marriage to make me jealous? You’re not even worthy.” After leaving Chloe, I went abroad. I met the Princess Royal of the East Coast elite while rescuing a stray cat. Over time, she fell for me. She pursued me for two years before I finally agreed to be with her. After we married, I discovered she was the Princess Royal, a radiant beauty with countless admirers. But she earnestly and seriously told me that I was the only one she truly loved. When our daughter, Lily, was born, Chloe almost had a difficult labor. She immediately called her lawyer on the spot to change all beneficiaries of her assets to my name. The entire East Coast elite circles gossiped that the Princess Royal was madly in love with her husband. But to reduce unnecessary disruptions, most people hadn’t actually met me. Yet now Chloe thought I was using my marriage to make her jealous? She still believed I was in love with her. Since she didn’t believe me, I couldn’t be bothered to explain. After all, I had no one with me right now who could verify my identity. My daughter, Lily, heard there was cake at the party and secretly snuck out. I was so worried I didn’t even change, just rushed out in my comfortable linen clothes to find her. I tried to go around the crowd, but the previous waiter stopped me. “His clothes… they look like a luxury haute couture piece.” “Only two were ever released globally. One is owned by the British Royal Family, and the other belongs to the Princess Royal’s husband.” “What audacity! How dare you steal something belonging to the Princess Royal’s husband!” “These clothes are mine.” Julian scoffed when he heard me. “How could *you* afford haute couture? You didn’t steal those clothes, did you, just to come here and try to win Chloe’s favor?” Chloe looked at me, her face full of disdain. “Don’t dream! I only love Julian.”

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“On full-moon nights, my throat still oozes blood – that is the ‘hickey’ torn by the hands of my loved ones.” They took away my wolf howl, but they didn’t know that the silent mother wolf is the most dangerous. When I crawled back from the abyss with my broken vocal cords, I saw my fake sister crowning me with my war song – She wore my scars, my crown, and even imitated the trembling arc. “Dear sister…” “You said that when my claws scratched your throat -” “What kind of beautiful begging for mercy would you sing?” After being exposed for plagiarizing the adopted pup’s song, I was dragged into an abandoned factory by a dozen rogue wolves and brutally tortured. When I was rescued, a bloody hole had been torn into my throat, my vocal cords shredded by claws, and my fingers and legs twisted and broken—rendered useless. My parents, the revered Alpha and Luna of the Silvermoon Pack, used all their influence, vowing to hunt down those who had harmed me. My brother, the Pack’s Beta, frantically summoned the finest healers from across the territories to tend to my wounds. Outside the healing den, my mother’s hesitant voice drifted in, “Though it was wrong for Veyra to steal Ashbane’s song… is this punishment not too severe?” My father, Alpha Hendrix, growled low in his throat. “She brought this upon herself! Ten years ago, we took her in as a stray, and she repaid us by stealing Ashbane’s place in our hearts.” “But that wasn’t enough—she’s never satisfied, always trying to outshine Ashbane in everything. And now, she dares to claim Ashbane’s song as her own!” My brother, Beta Lucas, snarled in agreement. “She was given the Hendrix name, yet she uses it to crush Ashbane at every turn. This time, we make sure Ashbane wins the Howling Crown —the highest honor for our pack’s singers. As for Veyra… let her keep a mutt’s voice, if she must speak at all.” The agony of my wounds was nothing compared to the betrayal tearing through my chest. Tears burned down my face. They had promised to protect me—their own blood. Yet for the sake of a pup they’d adopted, they allowed me to be broken. It was Ashbane who had stolen my song. But they believed her lies and chose to ruin me instead. I no longer wanted this pack. At the entrance of the healing den, the pack’s lead healer spoke cautiously. “Alpha Hendrix, while Miss Veyra’s vocal cords are damaged, they can still be restored with a graft from a willing donor. And if her bones are not set soon… she may never walk or use her hands again.” “She is a singer,” the healer pressed. “Her voice and hands are her life. Should we not act quickly—?” My father cut him off with a sharp bark. “Delay it.” My mother hesitated. “My Alpha… Veyra has suffered enough. She cannot attend the Howling Crown ceremony now. She is still our blood. Must we let her become crippled?” Beta Lucas scoffed. “Good. If she can’t sing, she won’t overshadow Ashbane. If her legs never heal, she’ll stay where she belongs. And if her hands are ruined, she’ll never steal another song.” “The Hendrix Pack will feed and house her,” he sneered. “What more does she need? She made her choice when she betrayed Ashbane. The Howling Crown was always meant for Ashbane—she is the future Song Luna of our pack.” “And Veyra?” My brother’s voice was ice. “Let her keep a dog’s whimper. That’s all she deserves.” Chapter 2  My mother, Luna Hendrix, sighed and whispered to the pack healer, “Give my daughter the strongest pain-dulling herbs. As for her broken claws and legs… just keep the wounds from festering. My daughter has always feared pain.” Hearing those words, my body trembled violently, hot tears streaking through the dried blood on my face. So it wasn’t just rogue wolves who had done this—my own pack, my own blood, had allowed it. All because I stood in Ashbane’s way. They never questioned her lies. Never even asked for my side. A howl of agony threatened to tear from my throat, but my shredded vocal cords only let out a broken whimper. I stared at the den’s ceiling, my vision blurring. When Luna Hendrix stepped inside, her breath hitched at the sight of my mangled paws—still twitching, still bleeding. She let out a wounded sound, rushing to my side. “Veyra! My sweet pup, does it hurt? We’ll call the healers at once!” Beside her, my brother—Beta Lucas—snarled into his phone, his voice thick with false grief. “Find the finest throat graft for my sister. Her voice cannot be lost—not when she was meant to sing for our pack!” He turned to me, eyes glistening. “Sister, I swear on my fangs, I’ll hunt down every rogue who did this. They’ll know what it means to have their bones snapped, their howls ripped from their throats!” My father, Alpha Hendrix, gazed at me with wet eyes, his massive frame shaking. “Veyra, the best healers from the northern packs are coming. Just hold on.” His voice cracked. “When you heal… I’ll compose a hunt-song for you. We’ll sing it together under the full moon, and the whole pack will know—you are my greatest pride.” I watched their performance numbly. With trembling, bloodied palms, I dragged my phone closer and typed: [I didn’t steal Ashbane’s song.] The screen smeared crimson. Beta Lucas snatched the phone away before they could read it. “We know, little wolf,” he murmured, stroking my matted hair. “Just rest. Everything will be alright.” They nodded, their eyes darting away—unable to meet mine. I knew the truth. They didn’t believe me. They never would. This was the same brother who’d found me a decade ago, lost and starving at the edge of pack lands. He’d wept into my fur, vowing to spend his life making up for the years I’d suffered alone. Now, he’d shattered my dreams with his own claws—all so Ashbane, could shine. Tears burned. Through them, I couldn’t tell who was truly their blood anymore. I’d never measure up to Ashbane’s place in their hearts. In this pack… there was no room for me. The healer injected wolfsbane-laced painkillers into my veins, his gaze lingering on my ruined throat and twisted limbs. “Miss Hendrix,” he said gently, “the experts will arrive by moonrise. Endure a little longer.” But no herb could dull the betrayal carving through my chest. I choked back a sob, biting my lip until copper flooded my tongue. My parents’ eyes turned wolf-gold with distress. Beta Lucas pressed his forearm to my mouth. “Sister, if you must bite, sink your fangs into me. Don’t harm yourself further.” They looked at me like I was their most precious pup. And yet—I’d never felt so cold. When I woke again, the pale light of dawn seeped through the den’s entrance. Chapter 3  The pack healers had barely left when I caught the hushed conversation between Beta Lucas and Luna Hendrix outside my den. “Krevv,” my mother murmured, her voice laced with false concern, “Veyra has suffered enough. Must we truly send the pack chroniclers to expose her as a song-thief today? We have no proof.” My brother’s growl was ice. “It must be done. Her voice is already ruined—what does she have left to lose? But for Ashbane to win the Howling Crown*, she needs the judges’ pity.”* “Ashbane was raised under our moon,” he snarled. “She wouldn’t lie. Even without evidence, I’ll stand as her witness before the entire pack.” Alpha Hendrix’s command rumbled through the walls. “Don’t defend Veyra to the chroniclers. Let this humiliation teach her obedience.” “Yes, Alpha.” I lay on the furs, my claws digging into the pelts beneath me. No tears came—only the metallic taste of blood where I’d bitten through my lip. Ten years ago, Beta Lucas had tracked my scent to that orphanage after hearing my howl-song in a recording. They’d brought me home, a ragged stray welcomed into the Silvermoon Pack’s golden den. I’d worked twice as hard as Ashbane, earning my place at the Lunar Conservatory. My hunt-song, “Moon-Drowned”, had been nominated for the Howling Crown—until Ashbane claimed it as her own. And now… my own brother would lie before the pack to destroy me. The den’s entrance flew open with a crash. A dozen pack chroniclers surged in, cameras flashing like silver fangs in the dim light. Helpless, broken, I could only watch as they circled me. “Veyra Hendrix,” sneered a female chronicler, shoving a recording stone in my face, “is it true the rogues tore out your voice because you stole your sister’s howl?” Another laughed, yanking the pelt from my body to expose my twisted limbs. “Look at her! No claws left to scribble stolen songs, no legs to run from the truth!” The male beside her bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Perhaps she’ll learn to sing through her wounds instead. Wouldn’t that be… poetic?” Their laughter was a chorus of snapping bones. Flash after flash immortalized my shame—the broken Alpha’s daughter, reduced to a mute, twitching creature. Hot tears carved paths through the dirt and blood on my face. I should have stayed a stray. Chapter4  “Veyra,” the female chronicler sneered, shoving her recording stone closer, “still playing the wounded pup? Won’t you beg forgiveness from your sister?” Her claws clicked as she activated a pack-wide broadcast. “The disgraced howler Veyra Hendrix—mauled by rogues for stealing her sister Ashbane’s hunt-song!”

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On the day my ex-wife Natalie, a renowned perfumer, announced her engagement, we crossed paths again at an upscale club. Five years had passed. She had become a millionaire, while I, driven by desperate circumstances, had taken a job as a male escort at the club. Her fiancé, intent on humiliating me, dangled $200,000 as bait, challenging me to compete with a dog for food. Natalie watched as I bent down, her lips curling in disdain. “So, this is the ‘better future’ you spoke of when you left me? Becoming an escort for others’ amusement?” “Lucas, I should thank you for abandoning me. Looking at you now makes me sick to my stomach.” What she didn’t know was that I was in the final stages of uremia. Five years ago, when she was on the brink of death, I had given her my kidney. Now, as I swallowed my pride and allowed others to trample on me, it was only to secure a decent burial plot. As I woke up, I saw the blood-stained sheets and couldn’t hold back my tears. While I was clumsily trying to clean the bloodstains, my phone buzzed. It was a message from the cemetery manager: “Mr. Foster, the burial plot you’re interested in only needs another $200,000 to complete the transaction. If you’re certain, please make the payment soon.” This burial plot was the final resting place I had chosen for myself. After replying, I changed into my club uniform, preparing for work. A few days ago, I had been hired as a male escort at a high-end club. Although the job was far from respectable, I had no other choice if I wanted to quickly save up $200,000. Little did I know that as soon as I stepped into the club’s lobby, I’d hear a familiar voice. I looked up to see Natalie and her fiancé Simon standing not far away. My heart clenched, and I instinctively wanted to avoid them. But Simon deliberately called out loudly: “Isn’t that Lucas? So you work here now? Let me see your number tag.” I lowered my head, not wanting them to see the expression on my face. Simon, however, was relentless. He grabbed my arm and read out the number on my tag loudly: “250! What a fitting number.” Natalie’s face darkened. “Lucas, how did you end up like this?” I clenched my jaw, not wanting to appear weak in front of them. But Simon didn’t give me a moment’s respite: “Lucas, I hear being an escort here pays well. With your looks, you must make at least $50,000 a day, right?” The onlookers burst into laughter, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. But I knew I couldn’t cause a scene here. “Simon, what do you want?” He smiled slightly. “Nothing much, just want to give you an opportunity.” Saying this, he pulled out a check from his pocket and waved it in the air. “$200,000. It’s yours if you’re willing to compete with my pet dog for food.” My heart skipped a beat, and a wave of humiliation washed over me. But looking at that check, I felt torn. Natalie, standing nearby, had contempt in her eyes. “Lucas, are you really willing to give up your dignity for money?” My heart ached, but I turned to Simon and said, “Fine, I’ll do it.” Natalie looked at me, her eyes full of disappointment and disgust. “Lucas, you’re still as revolting as ever.” She turned and left. Simon dragged me to a private room and placed a dog bowl in front of me. Then he sneered, “Come on, eat up. Don’t disappoint me.” With trembling hands, I reached for the food in the bowl. At that moment, Simon suddenly grabbed my hair and shoved my face into the dog bowl. My face pressed against the bowl, humiliation and anger nearly made me lose my mind. “Hahaha, Lucas, you’re such a fucking loser.” Simon laughed out loud and released his grip. After a long while, I finally raised my head. Wiping the food residue from my face, I felt utterly hopeless. “What’s with that look? Not happy? Should I say sorry, big bro Lucas?” Simon exchanged glances with his friends, their faces filled with undisguised mockery. Natalie sat there with a dark expression, silently downing her drink. Seeing this, Simon’s eyes flashed with jealousy, and he stood up, intending to humiliate me further. But this time, Natalie stopped him. She grabbed my arm and coldly left the room.

A loud crash came from behind us, and I knew it was Simon venting his frustration. When we reached the end of the hallway, I quickly shook off Natalie’s hand. She let out a cold laugh, her tone full of disdain. “So this is the great future you spoke of?” “Lucas, you abandoned me when I was on the verge of death, all for the sake of becoming an escort? You really have foresight.” Five years ago, Natalie had fallen seriously ill, with both her kidneys infected by a virus. Without her knowledge, I had myself tested for compatibility and, surprisingly, was a match. I didn’t hesitate to make the exchange. But my body had a severe rejection reaction, and I lost ten pounds in just three days. The doctor said I wouldn’t last a year. To spare Natalie from experiencing the same pain as me, I staged a scenario to trick her into divorcing me. But I never expected to hold on for over five years. After being heartbroken by me, Natalie met a benefactor who helped her rise to become a top perfumer. She also established herself in the entertainment industry and fell in love with the superstar Simon. They had just announced their engagement yesterday. Coming back to my senses, I gave her a bright smile. “You’re right, the money comes fast. It suits a gold digger like me.” “Natalie, congratulations on your engagement to Simon. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.” As soon as I finished speaking, Natalie slapped me hard across the face. Her eyes were red, and the air around her became heavy. “This is for the me who once dreamed of growing old with you. Lucas, get lost. I never want to see you again.” I suppressed the urge to cough and used all my strength to stand up, but the medical report in my pocket accidentally fell out. Natalie picked it up first. After reading it, her brows furrowed. The next second, she slapped me again. “You knew I was coming today, so you deliberately prepared a fake medical report, didn’t you?” “Lucas, you’re wrong. Even if you died in front of me, I wouldn’t shed a single tear for someone like you.” Hearing Natalie’s words, my heart felt like it was being stabbed by countless needles, making it almost impossible to breathe. But in the end, I managed to nod, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. “It’s best if you think that way.” With that, I turned to leave. But before I could take more than a few steps, my vision suddenly went black, and I collapsed to the ground. In the last moment of consciousness, I vaguely thought that leaving like this wouldn’t be so bad. At least I wouldn’t have to see Natalie’s eyes filled with disgust anymore.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in a hospital bed, feeling a surge of panic. If Natalie were to find out about my condition, everything I had been holding onto would have been in vain. I tried to get up, but my body felt as heavy as lead. Just then, I saw Natalie come and sit down in the chair next to the bed, looking at me with a complex expression. The disgust and contempt were gone from her eyes, replaced by an indescribable complexity. “You’re awake,” Natalie said softly, with a hint of concern that was barely noticeable. I was stunned for a moment, then quickly recovered and managed a smile. “Yeah, I’m awake.” Natalie frowned slightly. “Why did you suddenly faint? The doctor said you have severe hypertension.” My heart tightened, but I quickly composed myself. “Oh, I might just be too tired lately, not getting enough rest.” But Natalie clearly didn’t believe me. She stared at me, her eyes full of inquiry. “Lucas, what are you hiding?” “Was that medical report really fake?” I panicked a bit but tried to maintain my composure as I explained, “Of course it was fake. What, don’t tell me you’re having old feelings resurface and want to get back together?” Just then, Natalie’s phone suddenly rang. She glanced at the caller ID, her brow furrowing slightly, but she still answered the call. Simon’s voice came from the other end of the line, with a hint of tears. “Natalie, where are you? Are you still choosing him?” Natalie looked at me, hesitation flashing in her eyes, but she quickly soothed Simon in a gentle voice, “No, don’t overthink it. I just came to check on him, after all, he was once my husband.” Simon on the other end of the line clearly didn’t believe her, his voice becoming more agitated. “Natalie, don’t lie to me. Just tell me, do you still love him?” Hearing this, Natalie was silent for a moment, then said, “Simon, I love you. Only you. Don’t overthink it, I’ll be back soon.” I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to hear her profess her love for Simon. After Natalie hung up the phone, she still didn’t leave. We stared at each other for a long time, neither of us saying anything. After a while, I was the first to look away. “What do you mean by this? Didn’t you say you were leaving? Why are you still sitting here?” “Lucas, have you ever regretted it in these five years?” Natalie stared at me calmly. “We were together for seven years. If it wasn’t for that illness, I never would have believed that you would be the kind of person to abandon me at a critical moment.” Back then, I had given my heart and soul to Natalie, so after our abrupt divorce, she fell into severe depression for a time. At this moment, my nails dug deep into my flesh, and only the intense pain allowed me to calm my nervous emotions. “I’ll never regret it, Natalie. When love is gone, it’s gone. Why are you so insistent on asking me for an answer?” She slapped me, her long, sharp nails leaving deep red marks on my face. Then she turned her back to me, tilting her head back to wipe away her tears.

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I was the chaotic queen of trending topics, the infamous woman always breaking the internet. Every single day, I’d ditch my kid and parade around in crazy outfits, hawking goods on live streams. Everyone called me an unfit mother, said I was profiting from misery. But instead of listening, I’d pick fights with my son, right there on camera. Netizens would hurl insults, and my son would scream for me to just die. Yet, the overwhelming storm of hate couldn’t stop me from going live for even one day. After a hundred days, I vanished, just like they wanted. But then, their feeds flooded with messages: “Mom, come back!” **1.** It was peak summer. I was draped in a robe made from three bedsheets, a crown of toilet paper perched on my head. Sweat dripped constantly from my forehead, smudging my makeup, making me look utterly ridiculous. I didn’t care, though. I kept up my exaggerated expressions, pushing products. “Don’t miss out, fam! This dish soap has insane cleaning power…” This was day 49 of my live streams. Since I started acting crazy, playing dumb, and wearing wild clothes, my stream finally started gaining traction. But gradually, that wasn’t enough to satisfy people’s morbid curiosity. [Where’s your son, streamer?] [We wanna see your son! Call him over, and I’ll send a Carnival gift!] [Not yelling at your son today?] One time, I accidentally had an argument with my son during a stream. After that, the stream’s popularity surged. Plenty of bored folks would camp out in my live stream, intentionally egging me on to fight with my son. But the traffic was booming, and I was all for it. Seeing someone promise a Carnival gift, my heart soared. I rushed to drag my son from the next room into the camera’s view. “My son’s here! Oh, thank you, big bro, for the gift!” I grinned obsequiously, looking like a complete clown. But Leo pulled away reluctantly, yelling at me, “Aren’t you embarrassed?! I told you I don’t want to be on stream with you!” “Isn’t it enough for you to act crazy by yourself? Why do you have to drag me into it?” Leo shoved me hard. I stumbled up awkwardly, my toilet paper crown falling to the floor. He furiously picked it up, then slammed it back down. The crown was crushed to bits, Leo using it to vent his frustration. I didn’t back down either. For every yell he gave, I fired back with three: “You ungrateful brat! I feed you and clothe you every day, and you make such a fuss just for showing your face on camera?!” “I think you’re just bored and looking for trouble. Apologize to these big brothers right now!” “Do you know how hard it is for me to raise you? If it weren’t for these guys, we’d have starved long ago!” “You’re only ever this loud with me. If you put this much energy into your studies, you’d be successful by now!” Leo’s eyes welled up, but he stubbornly held back his tears, grinding his teeth. “Successful? How could I ever be successful with a mom like you?!” “I hate you! If you couldn’t afford to raise me, why did you even have me?!” A sharp smack cut off the confrontation. Leo clutched his face, glaring at me, hatred undisguised in his eyes. Rage boiled in me. I stormed into his room, grabbed all his comic books and novels, and violently threw them onto the floor. “I guess I’ve been too nice to you! I let you read all these useless books every day!” “They make you dense, with no real skills, just knowing how to argue with your mother!” Leo rushed to pick up the books, cradling them as if they were more precious than me standing before him. Seeing this, my anger flared even more. Without a second thought, I yanked him away and tossed all the books into the trash. Leo screamed, “No!” He charged at me like a feral beast, knocking over the phone I was using to stream. We instantly started wrestling. A mother and son fighting like cats and dogs isn’t a common sight, and it drew a swarm of onlookers. The live stream was instantly packed, with gifts showering in non-stop. The colorful lights of virtual gifts illuminated our faces as we screamed at each other, twisted into grotesque masks. [Oh my god, how can she hit her child?] [Love to see it.] [Subscribed to the streamer. Disobedient kids just need a beating.] [But forcing your kid to stream isn’t right, is it?] The footage of me hitting Leo that day was saved and went viral. People even made parody videos of it and posted them on every platform. In the videos, my viciousness when hitting him contrasted sharply with my fawning gratitude when thanking for gifts. Netizens mockingly called me “Face-Swap Mom.” Suddenly, terms like “Face-Swap Mom stream,” “Face-Swap Mom hits son,” and “Face-Swap Mom memes” shot up the trending topics. So, on the fiftieth day of streaming, I was officially famous. **2.** *“Ugly Acts for Attention, Publicly Assaults and Makes Child Cry.”* A news headline like that instantly ignited the curiosity of the melon-eating crowd, and I was thrust into the eye of the storm. Countless people came forward to condemn me, recounting similar experiences as if drinking poison to quench their thirst. They sympathized with my son, branding me the quintessential failed parent, relentlessly criticizing me. It was as if by defeating me, they could overcome the helpless pain they had to swallow in their own weak moments. I scrolled through their comments about me, then calmly put on a crown I’d woven from leaves. I put on an elf costume made from a long green dress, white plastic bags, and wildflowers, using heavy foundation to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Then I started another live stream. Huge numbers of netizens quickly flooded into the stream, the comments scrolling by so fast that all I could see was insults. But I showed no sign of remorse. Instead, I brazenly scoffed, “My son? That little leech is in the next room.” “Hmph, it’s only because I’m so kind that I’m still raising an ungrateful brat like him. Anyone else would have sent him to an orphanage.” “Thanks for the gifts, fam! Keep those Carnivals coming!” [You don’t deserve to be a mom.] [How can there be a mother like you?] [The child is so pathetic, you should just give him away.] “Pathetic? Have I not fed him or clothed him? Why don’t you pity me?” I rolled my eyes, but the next second, I became incredibly fawning when thanking for gifts. “If you pity him, then buy more stuff and send me more gifts.” “Let me tell you, yesterday I only gave him leftovers. Who told you to insult me? If I don’t sell well today, he won’t even get leftovers!” “Alright, alright, today we’re bringing you a set of dish soap again. It’s still that familiar brand, ten bottles for nine ninety-nine. Get on board!” … [Seriously, she has no shame. Still in the mood to sell stuff?] [If I had your mentality, I’d succeed at anything.] [Face-Swap Mom not hitting her kid today?] [Unfit mother!] [The way she raises her child…] [She’s crazy for money, acting silly every day.] I kept my smile strained, until one comment froze it on my face. [I hate people who abuse children like you the most. Just wait to be doxxed.] A moment later, our entire family’s personal information, from names to home address, was detailed right there on the public screen. It sent shockwaves! Netizens devoured the info, discussing it heatedly. [Turns out it’s a single-parent family. Seems tough.] [Being a single parent doesn’t mean you can hit your child randomly.] [Maybe that’s why her husband left her, she likes hitting people.] [Are you blind? Her husband’s dead!] [Could Face-Swap Mom have killed her husband?] [Y’all are ruthless above! Keep it coming, lol.] … As the comments grew more and more outrageous, I froze for a moment. But then, Leo suddenly burst into my room. “It’s all your fault! Now everyone knows it’s me! Are you happy now?!” I quickly regained my composure and snapped back, “What do you mean it’s all my fault! If you’d been more obedient, would this have happened?!” “You don’t study well day in and day out, and going live with your mom is too much for you? Seeing so many people defend you, you think you’re so tough now, don’t you?!” “If you’re so ashamed, then don’t spend a single cent of my money!” “I won’t! I’m ashamed of how you make your money!” Leo’s eyes widened in fury, his neck stiff as he confronted me. “You never cared about me, but when we argue, you bring up studying. When did you ever go to a parent-teacher conference? You don’t care about me at all, so what are you pretending to be here for?!” He stared at me, enunciating each word: “If only it had been you who died back then, instead of Dad.” I stood frozen, only the booming slam of his bedroom door echoing in my ears. [Fighting again in front of so many people.] [Can someone call the police?] [Doxxing is a bit much, isn’t it?] [Support the doxxer! It’d be a shame not to expose this kind of person.] [Clown, even your son can’t stand you.] [Face-Swap Mom, just die! Don’t drag your son down.] From that comment onward, the entire feed was filled with “Face-Swap Mom, just die.” But I didn’t care if they laughed at me, and I cared even less what they called me. Anyway, I made two hundred thousand dollars from that one live stream. That was money I couldn’t have saved in ten years of toil and struggle. **3.** On the fifty-third day of streaming, I enabled the co-streaming feature, charging an outrageous ten thousand dollars per call. People watching my stream cursed me, saying I was crazy for money, but at the same time, they scrambled to send me gifts for the publicity. The number of co-stream requests was countless, and my pockets were overflowing. [How dare you hit your child? Why do you force him to stream if it’s just your thing? Can’t you get a job with your own two hands and feet instead of making a spectacle? How will your child ever hold his head up at school?] Questions like these were repeated by almost everyone who called in. My answers didn’t disappoint them; I was utterly shameless and without boundaries. “He’s my son, I can do whatever I want with him.” “I haven’t starved him, and I haven’t stopped him from going to school. If you don’t discipline a child, they won’t amount to anything. I hit him for his own good.” “If you care about him so much, why don’t you send me more money? If I’m in a good mood, maybe I won’t hit him.” “Anyway, if you insult me, I’ll take it out on him. What are you going to do about it?” These co-stream clips were cut and reposted endlessly by various influencer accounts. “Face-Swap Mom” became even more infamous. An online frenzy of attacks against me swept through the internet. People, driven mad, tried to utterly destroy me. Takeout piled up outside my door, sent for my son, while wreaths for *me* clogged the hallway, blocking passage. My door and windows were pelted with rotten eggs and vegetable leaves. In the middle of the night, people would knock on my door, yelling insults. My front door was even vandalized with notices. These were all minor annoyances. My photos were Photoshopped into funeral portraits, and even my late husband’s tombstone, buried years ago, was found and splashed with paint. Reporters and busybodies camped outside my apartment building at all hours, everyone wanting to scrape off some profit while I was still trending. I curled up at home like a street rat everyone wanted to beat, and Leo couldn’t even go to school. But even then, I never missed a day of streaming. Yet, I seemed to have overestimated my own strength. The continuous worry and pressure eventually broke me. On day 79 of streaming, during a co-stream, just as I was about to open my mouth to answer a question, a metallic taste suddenly filled my throat. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t suppress it. Large mouthfuls of blood gushed out. I rushed off camera, but the blood sprayed from between my fingers, and I couldn’t stop it. The live stream was silent for only a second before comments started flooding in furiously. [Scared of being insulted, so now you’re going for the pity party persona, huh?] [If you knew this would happen, why did you do it in the first place?] [So scary, what happened to the streamer?] [If she’s really sick, she deserves it. Heaven has eyes and finally punishes the wicked.] [Just die already.] … For a moment, there was no one on screen, but my son’s voice and mine came from the next room. “Stop faking it, okay? If you’re really sick, just go die!” “What if I am faking it? You genuinely want to see your mom get insulted, don’t you?!” “If you hadn’t hit me back then, would it be like this now? You deserve it!” “You little brat, how dare you talk to your mom like that! You’re just like your dead father!” My furious shouts clearly reached everyone’s ears. [LOL, it’s really like a script.] [You have to admit, Face-Swap Mom’s blood pack looks pretty real. Quick, cut that part into a meme too!] [I was just starting to wonder if there was a hidden story, turns out she’s just pure trash.] [Type 1 to wish Face-Swap Mom a speedy death.] [1111] In the next room, I hastily wiped the blood from my hands and mouth, but the stains on my clothes wouldn’t come off. The co-streamer was urging me loudly, so I had to rush back and connect. [Remember me? I hate child abusers the most.] A male voice, distorted by a voice changer, spoke. I immediately realized it was the guy who had doxxed me. [You said you had no money to raise your child, but someone told me that’s not true.] [Your mother-in-law said you took all of her son’s bereavement pay, every single cent. Where did that money go?] I remained silent, my face turning even paler, a storm raging inside me. Seeing my silence, the person thought he had caught me and spoke even more agitatedly. [Putting aside you using your child as a tool to make money, you are shameless enough to hog your deceased husband’s bereavement pay? Have you thought about how your mother-in-law’s family is supposed to live?!] [How can you stomach profiting from misery like that?!] I didn’t respond, simply ending the live stream. But in everyone’s minds, this was as good as admitting guilt, further solidifying my wicked deeds. The anonymous person’s words were like a thunderclap, shaking up the “Face-Swap Mom” incident, which had started to fade with time. People’s attitudes towards me plummeted. The few who had spoken up for me before now turned their backs and joined the attacks. My mother-in-law, Brenda Reed, who had ignored us for eight years, suddenly appeared before various media outlets, tearfully accusing me of my wickedness. She claimed I had swallowed all the bereavement pay, forcing her, at nearly eighty, to pick up bottles just to get by. And now, I was heartless, abusing her son’s only child. In her description, I was a rotten-hearted ingrate, mean, harsh, and greedy—the absolute worst scum. Brenda’s assessment of me, coupled with my own son telling me to die on stream, seemed to confirm everything about me. As an undeniable villain, I deserved to be condemned. The online hate campaign against me intensified, yet I lay on my bed, laughing freely. I was very satisfied; everything was going according to my plan. **4.** On day 81 of streaming, my popularity surged. Brenda was still relentlessly attacking me, fabricating all sorts of nasty rumors: how I stirred up trouble between her and my son, how I disrespected her, how my husband and I had no love for each other… I knew telling blatant lies had always been her forte. But during my live streams, I never defended myself, not once. Not only did I calmly accept all the harsh criticisms, I actually felt their reactions weren’t extreme enough. So, I started actively seeking more trouble. I streamed leaning on a cane, hunched over and dressed like an old woman, but with thick white foundation and pink blush on my face, looking comically grotesque, like a clown from a street parade. Then, with that appearance, I deliberately mimicked Brenda’s actions during her interviews, giggling all the while. I also intentionally read out netizens’ comments about me during streams, then provocatively, sarcastically, mocked them back. I caused mayhem during the day, and at night, I was still busy. I used my main account to jump onto all sorts of platforms, arguing with Brenda, with netizens, with the world. Contrary to what the public expected—remorse and reform—I was trying to provoke public outrage. My chaotic behavior indeed attracted more attention. My popularity climbed steadily, but with it came an even more furious wave of online hate. But this was exactly what I wanted. I needed the popularity, I needed the money, the more the better. However, on day 99 of streaming, just when everyone expected me to make another fortune, I bowed deeply to the camera. Facing everyone watching the stream, I calmly said: “I admit, everything that happened before this was a script I planned myself. Tomorrow, I will tell everyone the truth.” After saying that, I ignored all the questions and quickly rushed to the bathroom, throwing up blood into the toilet. Leo had appeared behind me at some point, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears streaming down his face, he pleaded with me, his words threatening to shatter my resolve:

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