Category: English

On my 28th birthday, I cooked a feast, but my family only had complaints. My mother criticized the ribs, my father pushed the dish away, and my sister Stella fake-smiled, claiming a stomach ache but suddenly craving mango sticky rice from our childhood Thai place. Without asking, my husband Ethan told me to go buy it for her. I returned an hour later to an empty house. The food was cold, and everyone was gone. A social media post revealed the truth: my parents, sister, husband, and even her dog had left on a spontaneous trip to the snowy Alps. They’d all gone without me. I liked the family photo, put down the dessert, and texted Ethan: “Let’s get a divorce.” 1 After receiving my text, Ethan and the other three, dog in tow, drove through the night to get back. “Anna! Have you lost your mind?!” Ethan slammed his phone down on the coffee table, his voice thick with incredulous rage. “Just because we decided to take a trip for a day, you want a divorce? Can you stop making such a big deal out of nothing?!” I sat on the sofa, watching him with an unnerving calm. He called this making a big deal out of nothing. A small laugh escaped my lips, but it couldn’t mask the sharp, needle-like pain piercing my heart. We had a plan. We were supposed to leave together after my twenty-eighth birthday to finally see the snow-capped mountains of the Swiss Alps. It was a promise we’d made to each other when we were first falling in love. But on my birthday, he had taken everyone and left without a word. My mother yanked me to my feet, her finger jabbing towards my face. “Anna, why are you becoming so thoughtless! Your sister has been under so much stress at work. She finally wanted to get away and relax. We just wanted to leave a little early to beat the holiday traffic. What’s so wrong with that?” “Do you have to throw this whole family into chaos?!” My father’s face was grim, his voice laced with disappointment. “Your sister’s health is fragile. We should take extra care of her. As her younger sister, not only do you lack any empathy, you’re throwing a tantrum. You’re breaking our hearts!” There it was again. Ever since we were children, no matter what happened, I was always the one in the wrong. My sister, Stella, was always the one who needed to be protected, to be understood. She was vibrant and charming, a master of wheedling and winning our parents’ affection. She was the daughter they bragged about. I was quiet and introverted, the perpetual background scenery they barely noticed. Stella walked over, her eyes red-rimmed. She took my hand, her touch as light and fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Her voice was a choked whisper. “Anna, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault…” “I just didn’t want to be stuck in traffic with everyone else. I thought if we left early, our family trip would be more… perfect. I assumed Ethan would have told you…” As she spoke, she cast a timid, wounded glance at Ethan. His brow furrowed instantly, his gaze landing on me like a physical weight. “Look at your sister! She’s only thinking of everyone else. And you?” he accused. “Stella is a travel blogger! Leaving early to get some content is part of her job! If you can’t understand that, fine, but to demand a divorce? You’re pushing her to the edge!” “Exactly, Anna!” my mother chimed in, her voice sharp. “Why can’t you be more like your sister? So considerate, always thinking of others! Look at you, with that cold, stony face all the time. Who could possibly be happy looking at that?” I looked at the family before me and felt a dizzying sense of absurdity. There was a time when Ethan was the only one in this house who saw through the charade. He would hold me tight and whisper, “Anna, they don’t see how wonderful you are, but it’s okay. I see it. From now on, I’ll be the one to protect you.” But now, he had become one of them. His face was just as grotesque as theirs. A dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips, and the corners of my eyes grew damp. “Anna, what are you laughing at?” My laughter seemed to sting him, and he growled, his voice low with humiliation and anger. “I’m laughing at how stupid I was.” I looked directly at him, my voice steady and clear. “To ever believe you would be any different from them.” “You—!” Whatever Ethan was about to say was cut short by a sudden gasp. 2 Stella suddenly clutched her chest, her face draining of all color as she swayed on her feet. “I… I feel so dizzy. My chest hurts… I can’t breathe…” “Stella!” In an instant, the room erupted into chaos. My parents rushed to support her while Ethan anxiously rubbed her back. “Quick! To the hospital! It must be her depression acting up again!” my mother shrieked. They bustled around her, a frantic whirlwind of concern. No one spared me a second glance. As Ethan passed me, he paused, his eyes burning with disgust. “Anna, if anything happens to Stella, I swear to God, you and I are done.” Without looking back, he rushed out the door after them. I was alone in the vast, empty living room. I walked to the window and watched their car speed away, disappearing into the flow of traffic. A faint tremor ran through my heart, and then, a smile spread across my face. I took out my phone and dialed the number for a moving company. “Hello, yes… I need movers now. As soon as possible. The address is…” This apartment was mine. I had made the down payment myself, before I was married. Its prime downtown location made it convenient for everything. Ever since Stella’s divorce, my parents had moved in with her, using the excuse that it was “easier for Stella to get to her doctor’s appointments.” They moved in as if it were their right. They said it was nice for the whole family to be together. But I knew the truth. They simply despised their old house in the suburbs and coveted the comfort and convenience of my place. Stella, especially, made herself at home. My walk-in closet became hers. My vanity was overrun with her expensive collection of lotions and perfumes. She had a sense of entitlement to everything that was mine. At first, I thought it was just my things she wanted. I later realized she wanted my husband, too. She would flit around in front of Ethan wearing my new silk nightgown. When he came home late from work, she’d be the one to greet him with a bowl of homemade soup, cooing at him to take care of himself. Her performance was more convincing, more doting, than that of the actual wife. She even had the audacity to scold me for being thoughtless whenever Ethan and I had a small argument. And Ethan? He soaked it all up. He reveled in the adoration and dependence of another woman, thriving on the thrill of that ambiguous, morally grey line. His indulgence was the fuel for Stella’s audacity. His silent permission was the knife that dealt the most fatal blow to my heart. The moving company was remarkably efficient. In less than two hours, every trace of their existence had been scrubbed clean from my home. When it was all done, I felt the massive stone that had been lodged in my chest for years finally begin to shift. Suddenly, my phone shrieked. It was Ethan. I answered, and his roar assaulted my ear. “Anna, you vicious bitch! Stella was already in a fragile state, and after the scene you caused, she’s on the roof of the hospital, threatening to jump! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!” In the background, I could hear my mother’s wails and my father’s furious curses. Ethan’s voice trembled with rage. “Get to the hospital roof right now and apologize to your sister!” A cold smile touched my lips. The same old trick. Ever since we were kids, whenever Stella didn’t get what she wanted, she would put on a show. Hunger strikes, self-harm, running away from home… and now, she had graduated to threatening suicide. I clicked the livestream link Ethan had sent me. On the screen, Stella sat on the edge of the rooftop, her legs dangling over the side, her long hair whipping wildly in the wind. She was crying for the camera, a perfect, tragic damsel in distress. “I’m just so tired… I don’t know what the point of living is anymore…” “All I wanted was for our family to be happy together. Why is that so hard?” “I know my sister has always felt that our parents favor me… but… they love us both. How could they not love her? It’s my fault. I’m the sick one. I’m the burden on everyone, and it’s made my sister misunderstand me so deeply…” She never once blamed me directly, but every word painted me as the villain. The jealous, ungrateful sister who was destroying the family’s harmony. The comments in the live chat scrolled by in a frenzy. OMG her poor sister! This Anna person is pure evil! That sister is a monster! Don’t you know how to treat a family member with depression? Go apologize to your sister! What if she really jumps?! Public opinion had swung completely to her side. I shut off the livestream, grabbed my car keys, and walked out the door. 3 The moment I stepped onto the hospital roof, Ethan lunged at me, grabbing my arm. “You’re finally here! Quick, go apologize to your sister! Tell her you were wrong, that you’ll never argue with her again!” My mother threw herself at me, sobbing as she clung to my other arm. “Anna, I’m begging you! Just give in this once!” “If your sister is gone, I don’t want to live either!” My father, who had been silent until now, stormed over, his face contorted with fury as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “Look what you’ve done! You have dragged our family’s name through the mud today!” “Is this what you wanted? To push your sister to this, to make a public spectacle of us for everyone to laugh at?!” They were using their own lives, the family’s honor, to exert one final, crushing wave of pressure. When Stella saw me, her crying intensified. She wailed at the camera, her voice thick with despair. “Sister, don’t come any closer… I know you don’t want to see me. It’s my fault, I’m an eyesore to you…” “I’ll go. I’ll go right now, and then you’ll be happy… and I’ll finally be free…” As she spoke, she leaned forward slightly, feigning a lurch towards the edge. The live chat exploded. The evil sister is here! Is she going to push her?! Look at her face! So cold! Not an ounce of guilt! Someone call the police! Arrest this woman! She’s a murderer! I stood in the eye of the storm, letting their accusations and pleas wash over me. I watched them quietly, as if observing a farcical play that had nothing to do with me. My silence made Ethan even more frantic. “Anna! Are you mute?!” he roared, shaking my arm violently. “I told you to apologize!” I pried his fingers off my arm, one by one. I lifted my gaze to meet his. “Apologize? Should I apologize for not receiving a single ‘happy birthday’ yesterday? Or should I apologize for being abandoned and forgotten in an empty house?” The color drained from Ethan’s face. A crimson heat bled into the corners of my eyes, and my voice began to tremble. I fought back the tears and turned to my mother. “Mom, are you really going to threaten me with your life?” “Stella has used that trick since we were kids, and it’s worked every single time. Are you going to start now, too?” My mother was stunned into silence. The desperate grip on my arm slackened. Finally, my eyes settled on Stella. I walked, step by step, to the edge of the roof, stopping a few feet away from her. The wind was strong, whipping my hair and clothes around me. I looked at her and spoke, my voice soft and clear. “Sister, why haven’t you jumped yet?” The words hung in the air. Everyone stared at me in stunned disbelief. The mask of sorrow on Stella’s face shattered. She forgot to cry, forgot her performance. She just stared at me, dumbfounded. Ethan’s eyes were wide with shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. I continued, my voice perfectly calm. “You said you were tired of living, didn’t you? You said I was your burden, didn’t you? Just jump. It will be a relief for everyone.” “Look at all the people watching you down there. What a spectacular exit.” “What… what did you say?” Stella’s voice was a terrified whisper. I smiled. “I said, you should just die.”

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1 I’ve been paralyzed for ten years. My daughter, Chloe, has taken care of me for ten years. She works three jobs to pay my medical bills. I’ve seen her collapse from exhaustion more than once. Her husband finally gave her an ultimatum: “If you keep taking care of that woman, we’re done.” Chloe divorced him without a second thought. Her devotion went viral. She was voted “America’s Most Devoted Daughter” in an online poll. The whole country envied me. Then, the wrongful death settlement from my husband’s accident finally came through: eight million dollars. I transferred every penny to my son, Leo—a good-for-nothing burnout who does nothing but party. The entire internet turned on me. “She’s a monster.” “She values that deadbeat son over the daughter who saved her life.” A reporter found me. “You’ve been paralyzed for a decade. Your daughter sacrificed her marriage, her health, and her youth for you. She’s drowning in debt for you. Why would you give that money to him? Why not give her a single dollar?” I looked at the reporter, my voice flat. “Put hidden cameras in my house. Stream it all, live, for three days. You’ll have your answer.” 2 The cameras went live. That evening, Chloe came home, dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. She came to my bedside to clean me. Seeing the mess I’d made, she showed no disgust. Only guilt. “Mom, did you have an upset stomach last night?” she whispered, gently brushing my gray hair back. “I’m so sorry. I’ve just been so tired from work, I must have slept too deeply. I forgot to check if you were covered. You must have gotten chilled. I’m so sorry, Mom…” I just stared at her. The live chat was already flooding with comments: “My God. She comes home to that, and her first reaction is to apologize?” “I’d be gagging. She’s a literal saint.” “This is why she won the award. I’m actually crying.” Chloe didn’t know about the stream. She just started the long, difficult process of lifting me, trying to get me into the shower chair. She was so tired, her arms were shaking. She couldn’t get the leverage. Just then, Leo, my son, sauntered in from a day out. “Leo!” Chloe called out, straining. “Can you give me a hand? I need to get Mom in the shower.” Leo glanced over, his face twisting in disgust. “Ugh. It stinks like shit in here. I’m not touching her.” Chloe’s brow furrowed. “Leo, Mom just gave you eight million dollars. You can’t just party all day. The least you can do is help me lift her.” He scoffed. “She gave it to me. It’s mine. I can do whatever I want. Are you trying to guilt-trip me?” Chloe sighed. “I respect Mom’s decision. She gave you that money so you could finally settle down, maybe find a nice girl, and build a life. I just… I just wish you wouldn’t disappoint her.” “Disappoint her?” Leo laughed. “Sis, she’s a paralyzed old woman. Why do you even bother? You wipe her ass, you feed her… you’re a mess, and frankly, it’s pathetic to watch.” “She’d be better off dead.” The live chat exploded. “WHAT DID HE JUST SAY???” “He’s a demon. And she gave HIM the money?” “This is the most disgusting family I’ve ever seen. That poor, sweet daughter.” “She’s not just a bad mother, she’s an idiot. She deserves to be paralyzed for enabling that monster!” 3 Leo never helped. It took Chloe over an hour to get me cleaned, changed, and settled into my wheelchair. She was sweating and pale, but she just gently arranged my clothes. “Mom, you must be hungry. I’ll go make dinner.” She almost fainted on the way to the kitchen, grabbing the doorframe to steady herself. She just stood there for a moment, breathing, then pushed on. A little while later, she came back with a tray: steamed fish, roasted chicken, sautéed greens, and a bowl of steaming soup. She placed the tray on my lap table, carefully blew on a spoonful of soup, and held it to my lips. “Mom, I went to the farmer’s market and got a fresh organic chicken for this. It’s your favorite. Please try.” I turned my head. “Don’t want it.” Her eyes filled with worry. “Mom, you need to eat something. Your stomach is already upset. You’ll get sick.” I looked past her, my voice cold. “I’m not hungry.” Then, I looked at Leo, who was lounging on the sofa playing a video game. My voice softened. “Leo, honey. Could you bring me a piece of that cake from the counter?” Leo didn’t even look up. “That’s mine. If you want some, get it yourself.” Chloe shot him a glare, then turned back to me, forcing a smile. “Mom, please, eat your dinner first. After dinner, I’ll go buy you your own cake, okay? A fresh one.” I just shook my head, stubborn. The chat was a waterfall of rage. “This old woman is pure evil. She refuses her daughter’s food but begs her asshole son for scraps?” “I thought she was just blind, but she’s actively cruel.” “That daughter needs to RUN. Today.” “This is the most toxic thing I’ve ever watched. I can’t look away.” 4 The first day’s stream ended. I was the most hated woman in America. The next day, Chloe came home a little early. In her hand was a small, pink bakery box. “Mom! Look what I got you.” She opened it. A slice of strawberry cheesecake. “You wanted cake yesterday, so I left work early to go to your favorite bakery. Please, try it.” She held it out to me, her eyes shining with hope. I glanced at it. “I don’t want it anymore.” The light in her eyes died. It was a physical thing. But she recovered. “Okay. That’s okay. What… what can I make you for dinner, then?” I looked at her, my voice like ice. “Nothing you make.” I turned my wheelchair to head to the patio. Just as I cleared the doorway, Leo burst out of his room, phone in hand. We collided. His phone flew out of his hand and clattered to the tile floor. “GODDAMMIT!” he roared. “That was a ranked match, you old bitch! You made me lose!” He retrieved his phone and, in a blind rage, kicked my wheelchair. Hard. The chair spun and tipped. “MOM!” Chloe screamed and dove. She threw her body between me and the floor, her arm taking the full, crushing weight of the chair and me. She let out a strangled cry. When she pushed the chair upright, there was a gash on her forearm so deep I could see the white of the bone. Blood was pouring out. She ignored it. “LEO!” she shrieked, her voice shaking with a fury I’d never heard. “You could have killed her!” Leo just rolled his eyes. “She’s paralyzed. It’s not like she can feel it. God, you two are so dramatic.” He stomped back into his room and slammed the door. Chloe was breathing hard, her whole body shaking. She checked me from head to toe, asking “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Only after she was sure I was fine did she even look at her own arm. She just grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it, tight. Then she saw the wheel on my chair was bent. She got the toolbox and, with her one good hand, blood seeping through the towel, she began to fix it. She worked late into the night. The live chat was beyond fury. It was a collective breakdown. “She is bleeding out. SHE IS BLEEDING OUT and she is fixing a goddamn WHEELCHAIR.” “This isn’t devotion. This is a sickness. That mother is a parasite.” “I’m calling 911. This is caregiver abuse. But the daughter is the victim!” “That son needs to be in jail. The mother needs to be in a ditch.” The reporter called me, his voice shaking. “Do you have any idea what’s happening? They’re calling you a monster. A demon. This is destroying your daughter! What are you doing?!” I looked at Chloe, who was asleep in a chair, her head on the kitchen table, her bandaged arm resting near her. “One more day,” I said. “Tomorrow, you’ll have your story.”

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Everyone noticed that I stopped chasing after Liam Vance. Including Liam himself. After school, he stopped me, his face cold. “I’m only going to explain what happened that day once. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” “Sarah got cornered by some drunk guys. I went to help her.” “I forgot to tell you. That was my bad.” That day was his birthday. He was off playing hero for Sarah, while I was left stranded at the amusement park for the entire day. Turns out, Liam thought I was just throwing a tantrum about it. I shook my head lightly. “It’s okay.” Then, under his darkening gaze, I quietly walked past him and left. He didn’t know that because he abandoned me again that day, the System declared my mission a failure. In one month, I will be “erased” and sent back to the real world. And this body will be returned to its original owner. 1 When the amusement park staff reminded me for the third time that they were closing, the System sighed. “Chloe, go home.” “Liam isn’t coming. He’s with Sarah right now. He’s completely forgotten that he promised to meet you here.” I stomped my aching feet, picked up the cake box, and turned to leave. “Okay.” The excitement I felt this morning had been ground down to nothing. All that was left was a strange calmness. Even when the System announced my failure. “One month from now, you will be in a car accident.” “This is the penalty for failing the mission.” “While you are critically injured and in a coma, I will send you back to your original world. As for this body, the original Chloe Hart will take over again.” The System vanished after delivering the news. I pulled out my phone to call an Uber, only to realize the battery was dead. A second later, the screen went black. I didn’t have any cash on me for a cab. Resigned, I started walking home along the highway. Even though failing the mission was expected, a profound exhaustion seeped into my bones. Every step felt incredibly heavy. 2 The walk from the amusement park to my house passed by the school. It was Saturday, so the campus should have been deserted. But on a bench near the school gates sat two people I knew all too well. Sarah was holding a Choco Pie with a single matchstick stuck in it. “I’m so sorry, Liam…” “I just found out it was your birthday. I didn’t have time to get a real cake.” “This is all I have. I hope you don’t mind…” The boy opposite her had fresh cuts on his cheek. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, partially hidden by his messy hair, giving him a rugged, bad-boy look. He didn’t seem to find the Choco Pie ridiculous. He even took out a lighter and lit the match for her. “No.” “I think it’s great.” Liam’s voice was cold as usual, but there was a hint of softness in it now. I couldn’t help but think back to yesterday evening. In the home ec room, I showed Liam the birthday cake I had perfected after several attempts. “Does it look good?” He leaned against the door, arms crossed. He glanced at the blisters on my hand from the oven and scoffed. “Looking at your hand is enough to kill my appetite.” I felt awkward and tried to hide my hand in my sleeve. Liam looked annoyed. He walked over and dragged me to the pharmacy. “Why hide it?” “Don’t you have a brain? Put some ointment on it.” Even though he looked impatient, his movements were gentle as he applied the medicine. I gathered my courage and asked again, “Liam, do you like the cake?” He stared at the blisters on my hand, frowning. “It’s ugly as hell.” At the time, the System comforted me: “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad because you hurt yourself making it. He says one thing but means another. He actually cares about you.” My thoughts returned to the present. I stood quietly across the street. Watching Liam comfort Sarah, telling her he didn’t mind the makeshift cake. I realized something. Even someone as twisted as Liam, when he truly likes someone, can be gentle. He softens his edges, protects her pride, and can’t bear to see her disappointed. I don’t know what Liam feels for me. But it definitely isn’t like. 3 I looked away, intending to leave. Sarah noticed me. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” Liam turned around. His gaze fell on the cake box in my hand, and he froze. It seemed he finally remembered his promise to me. Sarah saw the cake too and realized. “You were looking for Liam, right?” “I heard you were planning to celebrate his birthday at the amusement park today.” “I’m so sorry. Because of me, you got stood up.” Her apology was perfunctory. As if she was used to Liam ditching me for her countless times. And me? I never did anything about it. At most, I’d sulk for a day or two before chasing after him again like nothing happened. I shook my head, denying her first statement. “I was just passing by.” Liam stared at me, his expression tense. Sarah smiled brightly. Clearly, she thought I was just trying to save face. She didn’t press it, just said: “Well, since you brought the cake anyway.” “We can still celebrate.” I dodged her hand when she reached for the box and shook my head. “It’s gone bad. Can’t eat it.” I pressed my lips together and whispered a goodbye. “Um… it’s late. I’m going home.” “Bye.” Sarah was stunned. Usually, I would seize any opportunity to stick to Liam like glue. Now, I was voluntarily giving them space. I walked a few steps with the cake, then remembered something. I turned back and asked Sarah, embarrassed. “Can I borrow twenty bucks? My phone died, I can’t call an Uber.” “I’ll take you.” Liam spoke almost immediately after I finished. He spoke fast, his voice tight. I acted like I didn’t hear him. Sarah hesitated. “Sure…” She dug out the cash and handed it to me. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back on Monday.” I took the money and left. From start to finish, I didn’t look at Liam once. 4 Maybe because I knew I was going home soon, I dreamt of my old life that night. It was recess. I was crying while reading a novel. My desk mate was confused. “Aren’t you reading a rom-com?” I sobbed intermittently. “Not for the second male lead, Liam Vance.” “His life is just too tragic.” “He loved the heroine, Sarah, since high school. But because he was poor and insecure, he never confessed, even when he became a business tycoon in the end. He just silently protected her.” “The worst part is, he was bullied relentlessly in high school by the villainess, Chloe Hart.” My desk mate handed me a tissue. “You’re Chloe, she’s Chloe Hart. Similar names, huh?” I slammed the table indignantly. “It’s a disgrace to my name!” But that very night, I transmigrated into the body of Chloe Hart, the character I hated most. The System’s mission: Make Liam Vance fall in love with you. This year, Chloe was the person he hated most. Difficulty: SSS Class. The System watched me jumping for joy. “It’s hell mode difficulty, why are you so happy?” “Because I can change Liam’s tragic youth!” I jumped up and down, my bangs bouncing. “I’m going to give him the best of everything and make sure he never suffers again.” The System had no hope for my success. It said it was just waiting for the time limit to expire so it could send me back. I spent two years trying to melt Liam’s heart. Eventually, his affection level rose so high the System thought victory was in sight. But in the end, I failed. Honestly, I have no right to blame Liam. He loved Sarah. It was only natural for him to prioritize her and give her everything. I only realized this recently, after I stopped liking him. 5 I stood in the wind all day yesterday. Unsurprisingly, I woke up with a cold the next morning. After taking some medicine, I got a call from one of Liam’s friends. “Chloe, Liam is planning to make up for his birthday today.” “We’re at the amusement park you guys agreed on. You coming?” Liam never cared about birthdays. I understood this was his way of compensating me for yesterday. My voice was thick with congestion. “You guys have fun.” “I’m going to the library today.” The guy moved the phone away from his ear. “Liam, Chloe says she’s not coming.” A few seconds later. I heard a short, mocking laugh from the other end. “Whatever.” His attitude wasn’t unexpected. Liam never had much patience for me. This was already the maximum amount of softness he could offer. I couldn’t help but cough twice. The guy noticed and spoke into the phone again. “Chloe, are you sick?” “Well, if you’re not coming, you’re not coming.” “Rest up.” Before hanging up, I heard him ask: “Hey, where’s Liam going?” Someone answered: “Think he went to the pharmacy.” “What for? Didn’t he just change his bandages?” “Dunno.”

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After the memory-erasure procedure, I forgot my boyfriend of ten years. I forgot the sister I’d raised with my own hands, only to be stabbed in the back by her. I forgot everything about Sterling City… I went south, alone, and opened a small flower shop. Everyone thought I was just throwing a tantrum, that I’d be back before long. Until a strange customer walked into my shop one day and asked in surprise, “After all these years, why have you never contacted Peter Ford? Do you have any idea he’s been waiting for you for five whole years?” I answered, completely lost. “I’m sorry, I had a memory-erasure procedure. Who’s Peter Ford?” The words hung in the air, followed by a dead silence. A sudden, baseless panic seized my heart. I subconsciously turned to look. Outside the window, framed by the sunken, heavy darkness of the night, a man stood staring at me, his eyes rimmed with red. … In the tenth year of our relationship, Peter cheated on me. With the sister I had practically raised myself. The moment I saw them kissing, I slapped Peter across the face without hesitation. The next thing I knew, my sister, Beth, had pushed me down the stairs. As I tumbled down, a sickening, familiar certainty washed over me. Everyone I cared about would eventually be stolen by Beth. Beth was my father’s illegitimate daughter. When she was thirteen, my mother, in the throes of a severe bipolar episode after discovering the affair, had a catastrophic breakdown. She was institutionalized and passed away not long after, leaving me, at twenty, as Beth’s sole guardian. My work was demanding, so I had no choice but to bring her to the office with me. She was a bright, effervescent girl, a little ball of sunshine. My friends and colleagues, initially wary, slowly fell under her spell. “Your sister is so much more charming than you are,” was something I heard more than once. Now, even the man I had loved for a decade thought so too. When I woke up in the hospital, Peter was sitting by my bed. “That kiss,” he said, “it was a mistake. An accident. It won’t happen again… As for Beth, she’s your sister, and she’s so young. Don’t hold it against her, okay?” I looked down and let out a soft, bitter laugh. “You’re saying all this because you’re afraid I’ll kick her out, aren’t you?” He flinched, then tightened his grip on my hand. “Sera, I know you’re still angry. It’s okay. I’ll stay with you until you’re not.” I pulled my hand away and turned my back to him. I heard him sigh behind me, as if I were a petulant child. His phone rang. I could clearly hear Beth’s voice, small and trembling. “Peter, I’m so scared all alone at home. Can you come back and stay with me?” He murmured a few comforting words to her, then said to me, “There’s an emergency at the office. I’ll be right back.” He rushed out the door before I could even answer. He never came back that night. I lay there, staring blankly at a hospital brochure on the nightstand. New Memory-Erasure Procedure: Forget 99% of Your Troubles. I’ve always been decisive. When something is spoiled, I throw it out. So, Peter, our ten years together… I was done with it all. Coming out of the operating room, my mind was a thick fog. The past was shrouded in mist, and I felt like a detached observer, calm and rational. Following the address on my hospital file, I went home. I opened the door to a chorus of cheers. “Happy birthday, Beth!” I walked into the living room. Everyone was gathered around Beth, singing. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged Peter tightly, a picture of surprised delight. A friend spotted me and cleared her throat. The room fell silent. After a moment, a slightly awkward Peter asked, “Sera, you’re out of the hospital already? Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.” I sidestepped his attempt to take my bag. “The hospital wasn’t exactly peaceful. I figured I’d be better off at home.” His words hung in the air, and a wave of discomfort washed over the guests. My best friend of many years, Leah, stepped forward to smooth things over. “Sera, you’re just in time! It’s Beth’s birthday. We all chipped in for a gift. Since you’re her sister, you should be the one to give it to her.” An exquisite little box was pressed into my hands. I stood frozen for a second before taking it and holding it out to Beth. I had been her sister for years. This gift would be a final closing of that chapter. As I offered it, Beth reached out, but somehow it slipped and fell to the floor. The box burst open, and a beautiful Murano glass bracelet inside shattered into pieces. Beth’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Sister, you still can’t forgive me? That was an accident, I swear! I’ve been so worried about you while you were in the hospital…” Seeing her cry, everyone rushed to comfort her, their eyes turning on me with reproach. “Sera, seriously, you’re her older sister. Are you still going to be mad at her?” “It’s her birthday! Can’t you just let her be happy for one day?” I looked at the faces accusing me. In the center of them all, looking at me with profound disappointment, was the man I had loved for ten years. A roaring filled my ears. My vision blurred, and I swayed on my feet. “Alright, everyone, don’t blame Sera. She just got out of the hospital,” Peter said, stepping to my side. His voice was gentle. “Don’t be hard on Beth. She’s just a kid.” He picked up the broken pieces and the box, trying to hand them back to me. “She just fumbled it by accident. Just give it to her again… you two need to get along from now on.” His voice was soft, but the hand on my shoulder was pressing down, a silent command. I took a deep breath, stepped away from his touch, and said quietly, “There’s no need. She and I… we probably won’t be living together anymore.” “I actually came back today to pack my things.” The moment I finished speaking, Beth burst into loud, wrenching sobs. “Sister, are you… are you kicking me out?” She looked helplessly at Peter. “Peter, what do I do? You promised me…” Peter patted her head soothingly before turning to me, his brow furrowed with impatience. Before I could explain, the accusations started again. “Sera! That’s going too far!” “If you kick Beth out, where will she go?” “What if something happens to her out there all alone? Do you have a heart?” Leah looked at me with pity, pleading Beth’s case. “Come on, Sera. Look how upset she is. She’s so young…” I stared at Leah, a desolate emptiness spreading through my chest. When she’d been scammed out of her life savings, I had given her every penny I had to help her get back on her feet. She had hugged me then, tears of gratitude in her eyes, calling me her best friend in the world. Now, she stood against me, rebuking me for the sake of the sister who had kissed my fiancé. “Leah, no matter how close we are, this is my family’s business… Besides, I’m the one moving out. This house…” Peter cut me off. “That’s enough, Sera. Leah is just trying to stand up for Beth. Beth is your sister. This house belongs to her too.” He comforted Beth with one hand while glaring at me. “At the end of the day, you’re still holding a grudge about what happened. But she’s just a kid. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t take it out on her.” The words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat, choked off by their accusations. Beth timidly approached, taking my hand. “Sister, please don’t be mad at me. I promise I won’t say a single word to Peter ever again. You’re the only family I have left…” I didn’t speak, but a sharp pain shot through my hand. I felt a sharp sting, like a needle prick. Instinctively, I yanked my hand away. The force sent Beth stumbling backward, and she fell to the floor. I reached out to help her up, but Peter shoved me aside. “Don’t you touch her!” I had never seen him so furious. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. “Peter, my ankle… I think I twisted it…” Beth whimpered. Peter swept her up into his arms and glared at me. “I’m taking her out of here. You need some time to cool off and think about what you’ve done.” His jaw tightened. “Sera, you have really, truly disappointed me.” My hand twitched almost imperceptibly. I sniffled quietly, trying to fight back the burning in my eyes. No one else said a word, but their condemning gazes were enough. They decided to go with Beth to the hospital, to celebrate her birthday elsewhere. As they were leaving, a boy who’d been pursuing Beth for a while said loudly, “If it wasn’t for Beth, I wouldn’t even come to this dump.” “Someone’s just jealous that Beth’s more popular than her! An old hag trying to compete with a young girl, it’s disgusting.” Peter’s shoulders tensed for a moment, but he didn’t turn back. He just carried Beth away in silence. After they left, I immediately called a real estate agent to sell the house. The agent was puzzled. The location was prime, the value was only going to increase. He advised me not to rush. I just smiled and shook my head. After he left, I sat on the sofa and murmured to the empty room, “Grandma, I’m leaving. I couldn’t keep the house. Please don’t be mad at me.” My phone buzzed. A message from Peter. You left your necklace at my place. When are you coming to get it? He had attached a picture. It was the gift he’d given me for our tenth anniversary. A custom Chaumet piece, with a fiery ruby at its center. It was beautiful, but it stirred nothing in me. I replied flatly: Just keep it for now. We’ll figure it out later. After sending the message, I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, Peter was sitting by my bed. His voice was hoarse. “You’re awake? I came to check on you and bring you the necklace.” I didn’t get up. I just took the necklace from him and placed it on the table. “Thanks. You didn’t have to bring it over so late.” He shook his head. “This necklace is important.” “Looking at it reminds me of everything we’ve been through… all the storms we’ve weathered. And now we’re fighting over something so small… it’s not worth it.” I thought of the past, too. The time he drove through the night in a storm to bring me medicine when I had a fever, nearly getting into a car accident. The time a monk at a temple predicted a life of loneliness for me. He had insisted on prostrating himself with every single step up the mountain, his forehead bruised and his knees bleeding, praying with his eyes squeezed shut, “I wish Sera a life of peace, fulfillment, and happiness.” When I was diagnosed with uterine cancer and told I could never have children, he got a vasectomy, making his stance clear to his disapproving mother. It was so good back then… I held out my hand, the bruises and pinpricks from the IV still visible on the back. He ignored them. “Beth is having a rough time at the hotel. She got food poisoning from takeout and had to go to the hospital. Let’s go pick her up together, okay?” I asked calmly, “Pick her up and bring her where? Peter, I told you, I’m selling the house.” His brow furrowed. “When did you decide that? Why would you sell the house?” I sighed. “The day of Beth’s birthday. I told you then, I’m moving out.” His lips pressed into a thin line. After a moment, he stood up. “Well, you get some rest. I’m going to the hospital to check on Beth. She shouldn’t be alone when she’s sick.” After I heard the door click shut, I waited a few minutes, then got up and deleted his fingerprint from the smart lock. I lay back down and closed my eyes. I didn’t sleep at all. The next morning, a wave of dizziness hit me as I got out of bed, and I stumbled into the nightstand. The necklace fell to the floor. Worried it might be damaged and I’d have to pay for it, I picked it up to inspect it. That’s when I saw the inscription on the inside of the clasp: “LOVE C”. C for Beth. There was no question who this necklace was really for. I got up, opened my safe, and there it was—my necklace, lying safely inside, engraved with “SERA”. I stared at it for a long time, and then I started to laugh. I laughed until my eyes burned with tears. So, my anniversary with Peter was also his anniversary with Beth. The agent quickly found a buyer for the house. With the money in my account, I moved into a hotel. My days were simple: medical treatments and long walks. Peter and Beth seemed to have faded from my life. For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of peace. Until Peter called. “Get to the hospital! Now! Immediately!” I didn’t want to go, but the thought that we hadn’t officially broken up made me get up and go. When I arrived, everyone was crowded into a hospital room. Peter looked at me, the disappointment in his eyes so thick it was practically spilling over. “Tell me, why would you do this to Beth!” “Beth has always had depression, and you hired people to go to her hotel and terrorize her! What is wrong with you?!” His grip on my shoulders was excruciating. I tried to pull away, but he was deaf to my protests. The others just watched, indifferent. Among them was the best friend to whom I had given my life savings, the subordinate I had helped mentor. All of them looked at me with hatred. “It wasn’t me! I haven’t even seen her! And I had no idea she had depression until today.” Leah couldn’t hold back. “You’re still denying it? If you didn’t know, how did you use your status as her legal guardian to stop the doctors from giving her medication?!” “If Beth had been taking her medicine, she wouldn’t have been triggered like this! She’s on the verge of death, and you’re still lying!” Only then did I see Beth, cowering behind Peter, trembling. “Beth? What’s wrong?” At the sound of my voice, she flinched violently, then went still, her head bowed. I stepped closer, trying to see what was happening to her. Suddenly, Beth shrieked, “Stay away from me!” and started frantically grabbing whatever was nearby and throwing it at me. I had no time to dodge. Something heavy struck my forehead. A sharp, searing pain, and then warm blood was streaming down my face. Peter immediately shielded Beth, roaring at me, “Get out! Don’t you come near her!” I took a deep breath, pressed a hand to the gushing wound, and walked out of the room. Through the glass window, I saw Peter gently applying ointment to Beth’s hands. The others were comforting her, telling her the “bad woman” was gone. I turned away and found a nurse, asking for bandages. Seeing the blood covering my face, she was horrified and rushed me to get stitches. While my wound was being treated, Peter found me. He froze for a second when he saw the gauze on my forehead. “Beth’s not stable. She didn’t mean it. Don’t take it to heart.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m not going to argue with a patient. You, on the other hand… it must be exhausting taking care of her.” He blinked, thrown off. He had clearly been prepared for a fight. Now, he was speechless. “You… it’s good that you understand. Does it still hurt? Is it bad?” He reached out to check the wound, but I flinched back, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air, then fell limply to his side. Before he could speak, I said, “What happened to Beth, it wasn’t my doing.” He immediately shot back, “The thugs who harassed her identified you! Who else could it be? Are you saying she scared herself?” I was silent. “If that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can do.” “I came here because I need to talk to you. We need to break…” Before I could finish, Leah ran up, panting. “It’s bad! Beth woke up, and when she didn’t see you, she had a complete breakdown!” Without a moment’s hesitation, without another word, Peter turned and sprinted back toward Beth’s room. I watched him go, and in my heart, I said goodbye. In nine days, I would have my final memory-erasure treatment. Then I would forget everything. I turned and walked away, leaving behind a decade of my life, leaving behind all the pain and turmoil. But I hadn’t even made it out of the hospital when someone grabbed me from behind. Before I could struggle, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my head, and everything went dark.

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In the third year of my marriage to Audrey, my uncle came home. He was, and perhaps always had been, the one that got away. I saw the current that still flowed between them, saw the way Audrey’s eyes clung to him when she thought no one was looking. This time, I decided to let go. The marriage between the Prescotts and her family was only ever on the table because my uncle, Grayson, didn’t want it. It fell to me. I packed my bags, erased my presence from our home, and chose a bright, clear day to leave. Audrey called. “Ethan, once I’m done showing your uncle around, I’ll be home to celebrate your birthday.” I watched the white contrail of a jet score the blue sky and said softly, “Don’t worry about it. I’m not really celebrating this year.” 1. The Prescott family has a standing dinner every month. My wife, Audrey, is a busy woman, and she rarely attended with me. When I showed up alone at the family estate, I was an easy target for their casual disdain. After years of the same remarks, you build a kind of immunity. So when my Aunt Carol started in again about my lack of ambition, about my inability to hold Audrey’s interest, I simply let my mind drift, outlining the next chapter of my novel. “Well, it’s one thing for you to be useless,” she said, her voice cutting through my thoughts, “but thank God Grayson is back today. He and Audrey were always so close. From now on, we should just let him spend more time with her.” Let Grayson do what with Audrey? My focus snapped back to the dining room. I felt a surge of disbelief. “Aunt Carol, Audrey is my wife. What are you trying to say?” She set down her fork with an impatient clatter. “What do you think I mean? They were good together. If Grayson hadn’t been so stubborn about going abroad for his doctorate, you never would have had the chance to pick up the scraps.” “Audrey is my wife,” I repeated, my voice tight. “We’ve been married for three years.” I pushed myself up, gripping the edge of the heavy mahogany table. The sudden emotion brought on a wracking cough, a familiar betrayal by my own body. Every eye at the table turned to me, their expressions dripping with contempt. I clenched my fists at my sides. I’ve always been the invisible Prescott son. Frail and prone to illness since childhood, I spent more time in bed than out of it, easily overlooked. When my mother was alive, she watched over me, even from her own sickbed. But after she died, I became a ghost in my own home, trailing behind my cousins, taking whatever they didn’t want. It wasn’t until I started earning my own money as a writer that I found any semblance of peace. Their scorn, their dismissal of me—I could live with that. But Audrey, my wife… that was the one thing I couldn’t concede. I couldn’t just play deaf and dumb while they plotted to push the woman I loved into another man’s arms. Why in God’s name should my uncle be the one to “spend time” with my wife? “I’ve lost my appetite. Please, enjoy the rest of your meal. Excuse me.” I turned to leave. “You stop right there! Who taught you to speak to your elders that way? Have you no manners?” My father’s voice boomed, his palm slamming the table. “It would make sense if I didn’t,” I said, turning back to face him, my gaze unflinching. “After all, you never taught me any.” The standoff was broken by a voice I hadn’t heard in three years. “Ethan, what’s all the fuss? Don’t ruin a perfectly good family dinner.” It was my uncle, Grayson. He sounded the same as ever—his words feigning concern while every syllable dripped with condescension, painting me as the petulant child. He hadn’t been in the house for five minutes, knew nothing of the situation, and had already laid the blame at my feet. I turned, an irritable retort on my lips, but it died when I saw who was standing beside him. A person who was supposed to be working late at her firm. “Audrey? What are you doing here?” 2. I hurried over to Audrey, my feet carrying me before my mind caught up. By the time I reached her, the reason for her presence was painfully obvious. Grayson explained with a wide, charming smile. “Today’s the family dinner, isn’t it? I was worried I wouldn’t make it in time from the airport, so I mentioned it to Audrey. Next thing I know, she’s insisting on picking me up herself.” I heard a quiet snicker from the dinner table. Before the meal, my father had asked why Audrey was absent again. I’d told them she was swamped with work. Yet one word from Grayson had her racing across the city to the airport and then all the way out to the family estate. The hierarchy was crystal clear. I forced a smile, looking at Grayson. “Uncle, if you needed a ride, you could have called a car service. You didn’t have to bother Audrey.” “We’re old friends from school,” Grayson said, draping an arm around Audrey’s shoulders in a theatrically familiar gesture. “What’s the big deal if she comes to get me? Right, Audrey?” Audrey slipped off her scarf and coat with practiced ease and handed them to me. “Ethan, don’t overthink it. Let’s just sit down and eat. Your uncle is finally back. It’s a reunion for everyone.” A sudden sting filled my eyes. She had already turned away from me, finding a seat next to Grayson. They sat shoulder to shoulder, their heads bent toward each other in conversation, looking for all the world like the high school sweethearts they once were. Anyone would say they were a perfect match. After all these years, it was like no time had passed for them. And me? After three years of marriage, was I just her convenient valet? A bitter smile touched my lips. Leaving now would only cause a bigger scene. I retreated to my original seat, directly across from them. Grayson’s presence lit up the room. He handled the relatives’ questions with the effortless grace he’d always possessed. For as long as I could remember, he was the center of attention, the golden child. I had once admired him, even tried to emulate him. Then, I grew to despise him. And Audrey… she still watched him with that same unwavering focus. My heart seized. I knew that look. It was the exact same way she used to watch him in high school. She was forever the salutatorian to his valedictorian. While Grayson worked on problem sets, Audrey would rest her chin on her desk and just stare at him, completely captivated. It never surprised me that she fell for him. Grayson was perfection on the surface. Before we were married, I had even wished them well. But now we were married. If she still held a flame for him, what did that make me, her husband? I picked at my food, the taste of it lost on me. On the drive home, Audrey said she was tired and asked me to drive. She sat in the passenger seat, eyes closed. I decided to test the waters. “Audrey, you do know that we’re married, right?” She frowned, her eyes still shut. “If you’re ever unsure, you can always look at the certificate in the filing cabinet.” I let out a breath, laughing at my own paranoia. But her next sentence plunged me right back into the ice. “By the way, Grayson’s just getting resettled. There’s a lot he’s not up to speed on here. I’m going to spend the next few days showing him the ropes.” 3. Audrey took Grayson to a corporate gala. When I said I wanted to go, she waved me off while selecting a gown. “I don’t need you there. One escort is enough. You should stay home and work on your novel.” Before I could ask why she was taking him instead of me, her husband, she offered a placating smile. “You can come pick me up when it’s over.” So I swallowed the words that might have started a fight and simply said, “Okay.” I didn’t want to fight with Audrey. Around eight o’clock, guessing the event was winding down, I packed a thermos of the ginger tea I’d brewed for her—it always helped settle her stomach after drinking—and grabbed a cashmere wrap in case she got cold. I parked near the hotel entrance, rolling down my window so I wouldn’t miss her, and waited, a sense of hopeful anticipation fluttering in my chest. At nine, she and Grayson emerged, arm in arm, and were immediately swarmed by a throng of reporters and photographers. I got out of the car and started pushing through the crowd, wanting to get her out of there quickly. She always hated the noise and flashing lights after a few glasses of champagne. But before I could reach her, I heard a reporter’s question cut through the din. “Ms. Hale, you’ve never made a public appearance with a date since your marriage. Is the gentleman with you tonight your husband?” I froze, looking up at Audrey from the edge of the crowd. She leaned into Grayson’s embrace, giggling at the question. “This is… this is the man I’ve loved for years.” In that moment, Grayson, perfectly sober, met my eyes over the heads of the press. After the reporters dispersed, Grayson and I helped a stumbling Audrey into the back seat of my car. “She’s had a bit too much to drink,” he began, a lecture forming on his lips. “Remember to get some of that tea into her when you get home. Take good care of her, Ethan, her tolerance isn’t what it used to be, you’ll have to be patient…” “Are you finished?” I cut him off. He looked at me, surprised, then clapped me on the shoulder with a reassuring, patronizing smile. “Ethan, I know they say ‘in vino veritas,’ but don’t take it to heart. Don’t fight with Audrey over this.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “She said she loved me for years. Past tense. She didn’t say she still does.” “Is that right? You really think so? That’s great. I was worried you might get the wrong idea.” The night air was cool, but a hot, frustrated anger burned in my chest. From the back seat, Audrey mumbled. “Ethan… I think I’m gonna be sick…” I shot Grayson a glare and drove home.

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In the end, they both lost their memories. Forgot each other completely. Started new lives, clean slates. And the heroine? She met me. A nobody. A background character. We fell in love, got married, had a son. Six years passed. Then, on a day no different from any other, my wife remembered everything. Shimmering text, like a glitch in the very air before my eyes, flickered into existence: 【OH MY GOD, THEY WROTE A BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS ANGST-FEST?】 【YES! THE LEADS FINALLY HAVE THEIR MEMORIES BACK! ARE WE GETTING A HAPPY ENDING?!】 【But wait, they’re both married to other people now. How is this going to work?】 【Easy. They each divorce their stand-in spouses and get back together! Duh!】 That evening, I walked the city streets, hollowed out and lost. My gaze met that of another woman, her face a mirror of my own despair. A cigarette was pinched between her fingers as she spoke into her phone, her voice tight. The person on the other end asked, loud enough for me to hear: “Ma’am, he’s saying something about his memory returning. He wants a divorce to go find his first love. Are you going to agree to this?” My feet froze to the pavement. 1 I’d only just learned it from the shimmering text, the impossible truth: I am a side character in a tragic romance novel. A placeholder. After the hero and heroine both suffered from amnesia, the heroine—my wife—met me. We fell in love. We built a life. And the hero? He married the second female lead. The evening streets were a blur of nameless faces coming and going. I stared at the phantom words hovering in the air, my mind a complete blank. I walked without direction, without purpose, until I nearly collided with her—the woman with the same broken look in her eyes. She was smoking, talking on the phone. As I passed, the voice on the other end cut through the city noise, sharp and clear. “Ma’am,” the voice said, hesitant. “He’s saying something about his memory returning. That he needs to find his first love. That this marriage of convenience is over.” A pause. “Are you going to agree to the divorce?” The woman stood in the deepening shadows of an alley, the cherry of her cigarette glowing and fading, obscuring her expression in the twilight. My steps faltered. This was too much of a coincidence. It had to be her. The woman the text described as the hero’s wife. I found myself looking at her, a strange kinship pulling at me. I didn’t want her to see me staring, so I ducked behind the corner of the brick building, my heart pounding. I had to hear her answer. If she refused the divorce, then the hero couldn’t come for my wife, for Lila. And if he couldn’t come for her… maybe Lila would stay with me. Maybe our life could go on. A fragile, desperate hope took root in my chest. I waited. The silence stretched. No answer came. Confused, I risked a peek around the corner. The next thing I saw was a pair of impossibly high heels planted directly in front of me. The woman was holding her phone, a wry, humorless smile playing on her lips as she looked down at me. “Having fun back there, pal?” she asked, her voice laced with ice. I flinched. The voice on her phone was still babbling, oblivious. “…Ma’am, if the matriarch finds out she’s not getting a grandchild and you’re getting a divorce, she’ll have another episode, I just know it…” The woman’s brow furrowed in annoyance. She ended the call without a word. I was frozen, unsure of what to say. “Sorry,” I managed to stammer out. She studied me for a second, then her gaze went distant. It was clear she was dismissing me, ready to walk away. I hadn’t heard her answer. Panic flared in my gut, and without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her sleeve. She stopped, turning to look at me with cold indifference. I knew this was insane, that I was crossing a line, but I couldn’t help it. “So,” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, “are you going to divorce him?” The woman was silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable. She seemed to be trying to figure out why a complete stranger would be this invested. She pulled her arm from my grasp and let out a short, sharp laugh. “Mister, you have a serious problem with boundaries.” And with that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the evening crowd. 2 I took a deep breath outside our front door, trying to piece myself back together before going in. When I opened it, my son, Finn, came barreling toward me, wrapping his small arms around my leg. “Daddy, you’re home!” Lila emerged from the kitchen carrying a casserole dish, a familiar, easy smile on her face. “There you are. Go wash up, dinner’s ready.” Her expression was normal. Everything was normal. Finn darted over to his mom. “Mommy, I can help!” Lila smiled and crouched down to his level, shaking her head. “That’s okay, sweetie. Why don’t you take Daddy to wash his hands?” He chirped a yes and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the bathroom. Nothing in our home had changed. Lila had picked up our son from school, she had cooked my favorite meal. Later that night, everything was the same as well. She curled up against me in bed, her body fitting perfectly against mine, and we whispered our good nights. It was just another ordinary, mundane day. She was still the wife who loved me, not the heroine of some tragic novel. The text appeared again, a chorus of despair. 【This is brutal… The heroine and hero saw each other on the street today. The second their eyes met, they both remembered everything.】 【And yet… they just looked away. Went back to their separate lives. So calm.】 【Well, yeah… It’s been six years. They both have families now.】 【I don’t believe for a second they’re over each other. Not after a love like theirs. It was epic.】 【But the heroine seems so serene… Maybe she loves the placeholder husband more now. He’s been with her for six years, after all.】 I held Lila in my arms, her steady breathing a familiar comfort, and a single thought echoed in my mind: Does she really love me more? I didn’t know. All I knew was that Lila had forgotten. Today was our sixth wedding anniversary. 3 Sleep didn’t come easily. When it finally did, it was a restless, shallow thing. I woke in the middle of the night, reaching for the warmth beside me out of instinct. My hand met empty, cool sheets. My eyes flew open. I was instantly awake. She was gone. The text flared, buzzing with excitement. 【YESSSSSS! I KNEW IT! THEY CAN’T STAY AWAY FROM EACH OTHER!】 【Rhys is still the bold one, going right to her house!】 【God, the tension, the forbidden longing… this is what I live for.】 The air was chilly; autumn had settled in. A light rain was falling outside. I went to the window and looked down at the street below. And there he was. The hero, Rhys, soaked to the bone, staring up at Lila with a look of stubborn, desperate pain. I couldn’t hear their words, but the text provided a live broadcast. Tears, or maybe just rain, streamed down his face as he asked her, his voice thick with emotion, “Lila… is this really it for us? Is this how it ends?” My wife just stood there in silence. His composure broke. He grabbed her hands. “It should have been me! I should be the one married to you, sleeping next to you, having children with you! It should have been me!” His voice cracked. “He stole my place… Lila, this is all wrong. We were never supposed to end up like this…” Lila’s back was to me, hiding her face. After a long moment, she slowly reached up and gently touched his cheek. All she said was, “You’ll catch a cold.” His hand froze on hers. He stared at her for a second, his eyes searching hers. Then, throwing all caution to the wind, he leaned in and kissed her. Lila seemed to resist at first, her hands coming up to his chest. But he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His wet lips met hers in a kiss filled with the bitter taste of tears and regret. He was crying, his eyes red-rimmed as he murmured against her mouth, “We used to do this all the time… Are you really going to push me away?” Lila went still. And in the end, she didn’t push. She didn’t run. 【Oh, my heart… it’s breaking. Can’t they just get back together already? For my sake!】 【This is so tragic. They were once the closest people in the world, torn apart by amnesia, missing out on so many years.】 【My ultimate star-crossed lovers. Please, universe, just give them a break. Please.】 I stood at the window, watching my wife kiss another man. Their story was a tragedy, no doubt. But as I stood there, a numb, hollow question formed in my mind. What about me? From twenty-two to twenty-eight. Six years of my life. The entire youth I spent with Lila. What was I supposed to do with that? 4 Just then, a mechanical voice echoed not in the room, but inside my head. It introduced itself as the System. It got straight to the point. 【Greetings, Host. I am the System that governs this world.】 【Would you be willing to accept a mission? Successful completion will result in a substantial financial reward.】 I blinked, stunned. “What mission?” I thought, not daring to speak aloud. The System replied: 【In order to satisfy reader demand, you must facilitate the happy ending between the male and female leads.】 【You will need to complete a series of tasks to ensure the hero and heroine end up together.】 The absurdity of it hit me like a physical blow. “You mean… you want me to personally push my own wife into the arms of another man?” “Don’t you think that’s a little messed up?” The System was silent for a long moment. Then, with a mental flick, a torrent of information flooded my brain. My head swam for a few seconds. I was seeing their entire history. Lila and Rhys. From their first meeting to their passionate, all-consuming love affair. It was exactly like a novel—dramatic, thrilling, epic. They fought their families, they fought the world, they overcame every obstacle just to be together. The System’s voice was cool and clinical in my ear. 【No one could ever forget a love that profound. They were always meant to be together.】 I understood. Its logic was brutal and flawless. Their love story was so powerful, so foundational, that even if I did nothing, Lila would leave me eventually. It was inevitable. My role was simply to make it happen sooner. The System added another incentive. 【Upon successful completion of the mission, you will be rewarded with fifty million dollars. Enough for you and your son to live comfortably for the rest of your lives.】 【So. Have you made your decision?】 I looked down at the two figures on the street, still clinging to each other. I thought about the last six years. Six years of marriage. Lila’s meticulous care for me, the clumsy way she learned to mix formula for Finn, how she knew all of my favorite foods and Finn’s little quirks. But when I replayed those six years in my mind, a highlight reel of our life together… it only took five minutes. She had been a wonderful wife. An amazing partner. But that was before she remembered. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Tell me what I have to do.” The System immediately issued the first task. 【Convince the second female lead to divorce the hero.】 5 The next day was Saturday, so Finn was home from kindergarten. He was in a clingy mood, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. I ended up taking him with me to complete the mission. Following the System’s directions, I found the hero’s wife’s home. My plan was to feel out her attitude first. My timing, however, was terrible. A butler showed me into a lavish living room where the woman from the street, Seraphina, was slouched elegantly in an armchair, being lectured by an elderly woman. “Twenty-nine years old, and you haven’t even given me a great-grandchild. I’m asking you, will I get to hold one before I die?” Finn, shy in the unfamiliar environment, clutched my pant leg and peeked out from behind me, his eyes wide and curious. Before I could say a word, the old woman’s eyes lit up. Her stooped back straightened, her shuffle became a surprisingly brisk walk, and she headed straight for us. She bent down, her face beaming with affection. “Oh, my goodness! My sweet great-grandson, look how handsome you are!” She reached out to pick Finn up. It all happened so fast that no one reacted. It was Seraphina who moved first, stepping between them and gently prying the old woman’s hands away. “Grandma,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind, “this isn’t your great-grandson.” “Nonsense!” the old woman retorted. “I’d know him anywhere! Give me back my great-grandson!” Seraphina turned to me with an apologetic sigh. “She gets confused sometimes. My apologies.” Then, she narrowed her eyes at me. “However—Mr. Ethan Cole, husband of my husband’s first love,” she said, her tone dripping with irony. “To what, exactly, do I owe the pleasure?” I wasn’t surprised she knew who I was; of course she’d have done her research on Lila and her family. Looking at her, I felt a strange sense of camaraderie. We were in the same impossible, miserable boat. I chose my words carefully. “It seems your husband doesn’t love you.” Seraphina gave me a deadpan look. “Tell me something I don’t know.” I was at a loss. “…” “So… can you divorce him?” She seemed genuinely surprised by my directness. “Are you sure about that? After I divorce him, he’s going to come for your wife.” She smirked. “What is this? Are you so in love with your wife that you’re willing to set her free for her own happiness?” I was stuck. I couldn’t mention the System. That was the only plausible explanation left. So I went with it. I looked her in the eye, my expression pleading. “Yes. So, will you help them? Will you set them both free?” This time, Seraphina was silent for a full thirty seconds. “Fine. I’ll grant the divorce. But I have one condition.” “What is it?” “You have to be my boyfriend.” I stared at her, confused. “Why?” She gestured toward her grandmother, who was now trying to coax Finn into playing with her pearls, and shrugged helplessly. “You see how it is. The old dear isn’t well. She obsesses over a great-grandchild.” “After the divorce, I’ll need someone new to play the part of my husband. And my child.” Her words clicked with the information the System had given me. Seraphina had married Rhys as part of a family business merger, but also to give her ailing grandmother peace of mind. I thought about it. “Okay,” I said, nodding. “I can do that. I can pretend for your grandmother. Just call me when you need me.” “It will also require a certain level of public affection in her presence,” she added. I clenched my jaw. “Fine.” A slow, genuine smile spread across Seraphina’s face. “It’s a deal then, my dear pretend-boyfriend.” 6 When I got home, Lila had dinner on the table, just like always. I had barely stepped inside when there was a knock on the door. It was a delivery guy from the dry cleaner’s. He handed me a garment bag. “Your order, sir.” I didn’t remember sending anything to be cleaned. I unzipped the bag. It was Lila’s overcoat. And even though it had just come from the cleaners, I could swear I smelled the faint, sharp scent of a man’s cologne. The scene from last night flashed in my mind. The rain, the kiss. Lila walked over from the kitchen. “What is it? Why are you just standing there…?” Her voice trailed off as she saw the coat in my hands. Our eyes met. For a split second, I wanted to scream at her. To demand to know why her coat smelled like him, why she forgot our anniversary, why she was tearing our lives apart. But under the warm lights of our home, Finn was watching me with his innocent eyes. On the table, a hot meal, cooked by my wife, was waiting. Everything looked so painfully, beautifully normal. It was a happiness so fragile that I lost all courage to shatter it. It felt as if, as long as I didn’t ask, as long as I didn’t say a word, I could keep this perfect, crumbling illusion intact just a little longer. I took a breath, folded the coat calmly, and handed it to her. “Your coat.” Lila watched me for a long moment before taking it in silence. As she did, something small and heavy slipped from the pocket and clattered onto the floor. I looked down. It was a small, velvet box. “Huh?” Finn said, pointing. “Mommy, you still haven’t given Daddy his present?” A present? I froze. Finn had been telling me for weeks, in that secretive way little kids have, that Mommy had a special surprise for me. This must have been it. The anniversary gift she had forgotten to give me. The box lay on the floor between us. It felt as if the fall had cracked the very foundation of the life we were pretending to live. Lila stared at the box, her expression momentarily blank, followed by a wave of panic. She finally remembered. The sixth anniversary she had let slip her mind. She quickly picked it up, her face a mask of apology. “Ethan… honey, I’m so sorry. Work has been so crazy, I completely forgot about our anniversary.” “This is for you. We’ll celebrate properly soon, I promise. Okay?” I looked up, studying her face, searching for a tell. This was the same pleading, cautious expression she always wore when she thought I was mad at her. It had always worked before. I’d never once doubted her sincerity. But this time, I stared into her eyes for a long, long time, trying to find a single shred of evidence that she still loved me. Seeing my silence, a flicker of fear crossed her face. She did what she always did. She stepped into my arms, tilted her head up, and peppered my face with soft, apologetic kisses. “Are you angry? It’s my fault. Please don’t be angry with me, honey.” Finn tugged on her sleeve, pouting. “I wanna kiss Daddy too!” Lila stroked his hair. “Daddy’s upset right now. Let Mommy make him feel better first, then he’s all yours.” Later, after dinner, she was all over me. For six years, she had been a perfect wife, a perfect mother. Whenever I was upset, regardless of whose fault it was, she was always the first to smooth things over. Comforting me seemed to be an instinct for her. She pulled me close, her lips finding mine with a familiar warmth. For a moment, I could almost believe she was back—the Lila who loved me, and only me. After the kiss, her breathing grew heavier. She slid her hand under my shirt, her palm flat against my stomach. “Honey,” she murmured, her voice husky, “let me take care of you tonight. Anything you want, as long as you’re not mad anymore.” When I didn’t respond, she took my hand and placed it on the firm muscles of her abdomen. “I’ve been working out,” she whispered, a little vulnerably. “Want to… check my progress?” Lila had always been a good partner. In every sense of the word. Finally, after a long silence, I lifted my arms. And wrapped them around her waist. … When I carried her to the bathroom later, she was so exhausted she could barely open her eyes. I cleaned her up, carried her back to bed, and held her as she fell asleep. I woke up sometime in the night. Lila was sleeping soundly beside me. Her phone on the nightstand lit up with a new message. I squinted, picking it up. The bright screen stung my eyes. On her lock screen, a single text message glowed in the dark. 【Let’s wear a tux and a gown, just once. Fulfill our promise from when we were eighteen. After that, we can go our separate ways. For good.】

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In my weakest year, Ryan, a scholarship student with the same rare blood type as me, became my walking blood bank. He was required to stay by my side constantly, and was even forced to marry me. I knew he hated me. Until I heard his inner thoughts. [Why can’t wifey just slap me for no reason? Then I could cuddle with her!] [Some people fall in love, some people watch the ocean, I’ve been awake all night missing my wife!] [Wait? Wifey looked at me! I should have worn that deep V-neck shirt!] [Is it too late to rip my shirt open now?] 1 I watched Ryan’s hands twitching restlessly. I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles, like I had a fishbone stuck in my throat. If he ripped his shirt open… I wouldn’t mind! But I suspected I was hallucinating. “What’s wrong?” Ryan looked up at me, his expression indifferent, like he was looking at a stranger. It was hard to imagine we’d lived together since we were twelve, and had been married for two years now. He was always aloof, a man of few words. But now, his voice was chattering non-stop in my ear. [Wifey looked at me again!] [Yesterday she was fangirling over some celebrity, so today I styled my hair the same way. Gotta win the male competition.] [Wifey’s lips look so soft, want to kiss.] [Wifey’s waist is so thin, want to feed her!] [Want to see wifey’s little tummy puff out, maybe even pinch it…] [Want to eat wifey up.] [Yes! New material for tonight’s dreams!] [When will my dreams come true! Am I not trying hard enough?] Me: “…” One thing was certain: I was hearing Ryan’s inner thoughts! Realizing this fact, the spoon in my hand dropped into the bowl, and my sleepy brain woke up completely. “Ouch~” A hand grabbed tissues faster than I could. The soup splashed on the back of my hand was gently wiped away, and Ryan carefully checked for burns. He frowned, looking like I owed him a million bucks: “Be careful.” [Oh my god! Which direction do I need to bow to for a chance to feed wifey?] [Wifey looks so cute when she’s confused, want to kiss, hug, and do things with wifey.] [So scared I might accidentally squeeze her to death.] 2 I quickly pulled my arm out of Ryan’s grasp. Just wanted to kiss me, now he wants to kill me? Psycho! Not daring to stay longer, I stood up. “I’m full.” Hearing this, Ryan frowned even harder, opened his mouth then closed it, and buried his head back in his food. But I could hear his thoughts. [She only ate two soup dumplings and half a bowl of porridge. A one-year-old eats more than her.] [When can I fatten her up?] [Is my cooking bad? Shouldn’t be, I specifically learned from the chef at the old house.] [Eat fast, later I’ll make wifey her favorite mango cupcakes.] I sat on the living room sofa, glancing at Ryan from the corner of my eye. He really did speed up his eating. He finished the rest of the food in a few bites, even pouring my leftover half bowl of porridge into his stomach. [Ate wifey’s leftovers again, this counts as an indirect kiss, right?] [I’m the happiest man in the world!] [Time to make cupcakes for wifey!] Noticing the fleeting besotted expression on Ryan’s face, I was shocked and hurriedly lowered my eyes. Wait! What was that? My gaze suddenly froze, then retracted like I’d been electrocuted. Ryan was wearing grey sweatpants today, sitting sideways to me. A very impressive shape, clearly visible. This… I touched my own flat stomach. It should fit, right? Though my experience was limited to the hundreds of romance novels I’d secretly read. 3 Ryan was busy in the kitchen making cupcakes. But why was his shirt gone? Long, tight muscles clung to his shoulder blades, apron strings tied around a waist with zero fat, dipping into a narrow lower back. Truly blinding! Better than those comic book male leads you can only read at night! I ungracefully tilted my head back and pinched my nose. [Wifey look at me!] [Books say inadvertent seduction is the deadliest!] [Did wifey look at me? Can she pretend to inadvertently look back to check?] [I’m just wifey’s childhood betrothed, plain face, plain body, plain abilities.] [Such a plain me, wifey won’t cherish once she has me. I have to keep wifey hooked forever, be the man she can’t have!] Hmph, go be a pure love protagonist somewhere else! This channel isn’t for you! I was so mad I wanted to throw an apple at him, when Ryan turned around. “Face so red, feeling sick?” He walked over quickly, placing honey water and cupcakes in front of me, the back of his cool hand touching my forehead. A brief touch. [No fever, scared me to death.] [No way, no way, is wifey blushing because she saw me?] If I couldn’t hear his thoughts, I might have thought, like before, that he didn’t want to touch me. So he puts on this ascetic face all day, but his brain is full of chaotic thoughts about seducing me? Thanks. I was seduced. Coughing lightly, I didn’t dare look directly at Ryan. “Just scrolling on my phone.” I casually unlocked my phone. Only to find it was still on TikTok. On the screen, a muscular guy stood under a shower, white shirt soaked through, lean waist moving. Crap! It was the thirst trap video I scrolled past this morning! I tried to swipe away quickly, but my hand slipped and I liked it… Ryan’s face was calm, eyes gloomy and tinged with red. [Heh, so she’s looking at wild men!] [And liking it right in front of me!] [First celebrities, now thirst traps, am I just a decoration to her?] I tried to explain. “If I said the algorithm pushed it to me, would you believe it?” Ryan looked indifferent, shoving the honey water into my hand: “It’s dry out, drink some water.” But his inner voice told me he cared to death. [Hmph, what’s so good about those shameless men!] [Didn’t she see? I have an eight-pack too, I have a thin waist and long legs too. If wifey wants to see, I can get wet too, I can even get wet naked!] [And I only show wifey.] [But wifey doesn’t like me, she only likes that senior. I really am just a fcking decoration!]* [Want to cry. Wifey, can I sleep between you and the senior?] I, who was fantasizing about him in a wet white shirt, widened my eyes. When did I ever like some senior? Why is he biting back? It was clearly him who barely spoke to me all day, guarding against me like a thief, unwilling to be close. Resulting in us having no marital life, not even sleeping in the same room. Seeing Ryan walk towards the study with red eyes, I felt the need to ask clearly. But just as I stood up, black spots filled my vision and I fell back onto the sofa. Stood up too fast, body too weak. By the time I recovered, the study door was closed. 4 After finishing the cupcake and resting a bit, I went to knock on the door. “Leave the empty plate, I’ll wash it later.” “Let’s talk.” We spoke at the same time. Ryan’s inner voice followed. [Is wifey’s expression a showdown?] [She doesn’t want me anymore!] [Just because I caught her watching wild men videos? I didn’t even say anything, why is she so petty!] [Except for love, I won’t talk about anything!] [As long as I occupy this position, any wild man outside is just a mistress!] Looking at the increasingly cold man, I really worried he was showing signs of split personality. The concern inadvertently showing in my eyes made Ryan misunderstand even more. [She pities me!] [She just doesn’t want me anymore!] Then, I heard him speak. Voice muffled, a bit hoarse. “I’m busy with work today, another time. “I’ll cook on time. If you’re hungry, there’s another cake in the fridge. Let it warm up before eating, or you’ll get a stomachache.” Then he took a call and closed the door. Through the door, I heard him crying internally. [Boohoohoo, suffered such a huge grievance, tonight I’ll reward myself with wifey’s nightgown.] Me: …! After getting married, driven by selfishness, I wanted to be alone with him. So we moved out of the old mansion into a downtown penthouse. Ryan always did the housework. Occasionally he would apologetically bring me new nightgowns, saying he used too much force and accidentally stretched mine out of shape. He looked so guilty, I couldn’t really blame him. I never thought deeply about why he always had new nightgowns ready in advance! Today I learned, all those nightgowns were deformed because he was “rewarding himself”! For the rest of the day, Ryan did everything he could to avoid me. He hid until nightfall. I have a regular schedule, sleep by eleven, and sleep well. But not today. I was thinking about me and Ryan. Calling Ryan my childhood betrothed was a stretch. After all, since childhood, my parents always joked about us, fearing I’d be mistreated if I married someone else, so I might as well marry Ryan. But initially, he was just my “mobile blood bank.”

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My father died in the line of duty. Since I was a kid, I, Jiang Xia, have lived as an orphan in the home of Ming Xunzhou, one of his old comrades. As I grew up, a crush blossomed into something deeper. For five years, I harbored feelings for this man who had taken me in. On the night of my eighteenth birthday, I pushed open the door to Ming Xunzhou’s room. I was officially an adult, and I was ready to confess my feelings to him, earnestly and bravely. But instead of a warm welcome, I found him fast asleep, clutching a piece of paper to his chest. [Marriage Application] Those two words hit me like a lightning bolt. I gritted my teeth and read the details. It was a marriage application for Ming Xunzhou and Fang Yingyue. “You’re getting married? Why didn’t I know anything about this?!” I demanded, my voice trembling. “I’m your guardian, Xia. I don’t need to report everything to you,” Ming Xunzhou replied, his voice flat and factual. In all the years I’d lived under his roof, he had never been this harsh with me. I knew then that it was time for me to leave. That night, I packed my bags and slipped out quietly. But fate had other plans. A group of thugs cornered me in a dark alley. It was terrifying. Just as things were about to get really bad, Ming Xunzhou appeared and saved me. He saw the blood on my head as I started to lose consciousness. Panicked, he scooped me up in his arms, desperate to get me to the hospital. My head was splitting, but I was terrified that if I didn’t say it now, I never would. I clung to him, repeating “I love you” over and over again. And then, I kissed him. Fang Yingyue saw it all. In a fit of rage, she turned and stormed off, only to run straight into the returning thugs. They beat her to death. From that day on, Ming Xunzhou changed. He became silent, withdrawn. Just as I was drowning in guilt, believing I was the cause of this tragedy, he proposed to me. After we were married, he hung Fang Yingyue’s portrait above our bed. Every night, he made me lie beside him, naked, but he never once looked at me. During the day, he made me dress like her. Talk like her. Walk like her. Later, when plastic surgery became available, he forced me to go under the knife to look exactly like her. I died on the operating table during the final surgery to fix my nose. Before I slipped away, I heard his voice through the hospital door. “Once she’s gone, cremate her quickly. Scatter the ashes anywhere. Just get rid of them.” A chill spread through my dying body. He didn’t marry me because he loved me. He married me because he hated me. He hated me for killing Fang Yingyue. He hated me for ruining him. Regret washed over me like a tidal wave, drowning my will. My heart tightened, squeezed until it finally snapped. And then, I woke up. Summer had returned. … I stood by Ming Xunzhou’s bed, the cicadas buzzing loudly outside the window. He woke up with a start, looking surprised to see me standing there. “Xia? Is something wrong?” My eyes snapped into focus. I was awake. In my past life, this was the day I kissed him and started the chain of events that led to disaster. This was a second chance. A chance to fix my mistakes. “Nothing,” I said, forcing a smile. “I just heard you and Auntie Fang are getting married. I wanted to congratulate you!” Ming Xunzhou looked shocked, his gaze dropping to the marriage application in his hand. “Since you know… I wanted to talk to you. Xia, as long as you behave… as long as you stop saying things that aren’t appropriate for your position here… everything will stay the same. This will always be your home.” My breathing steadied. I kept the smile plastered on my face. “I’ll be good. Don’t worry.” I didn’t know it then, but a cold, malicious gaze was watching us from the window. Back in my room, I couldn’t sleep. Just after midnight, someone pounded on the front door. “Brother Ming! Something’s happened! It’s Fang Yingyue!” Ming Xunzhou rushed to the hospital, and I followed close behind, panic rising in my chest. I had made different choices this time. Why was Fang Yingyue still in danger? In the hospital room, Fang Yingyue saw Ming Xunzhou and threw herself into his arms, barefoot and trembling. “Xunzhou, save me!” I let out a breath of relief when I saw she was physically fine, just a scrape on her hand. “Jiang Xia! I have no quarrel with you! How could you send those thugs to ruin me…” She buried her face in Ming Xunzhou’s chest and sobbed. “What do you mean?” Ming Xunzhou asked, his voice tight. Tears streamed down her face. “What do you think I mean? Those thugs dragged me into the woods! They said you told them to rape me!” “Thank god the neighborhood watch patrol was nearby. They saved me.” My mind went blank. Suddenly, it clicked. She was framing me. “I didn’t do it!” I shouted, staring at Ming Xunzhou. I couldn’t believe he would fall for this. But there was no trust in his eyes. Only coldness. “Where are they?” he asked her, his voice gentle, hugging her tighter. “They ran away… luckily, they didn’t manage to do anything to me.” Her sobs shook the room. “Xunzhou, I didn’t want to make this hard for you. But you have to discipline her! Jiang Xia has been spoiled rotten. If this continues, she’s going to end up in prison!” Ming Xunzhou exploded. “Apologize!” His shout made my scalp tingle. When I didn’t speak, his face darkened. “Jiang Xia, your Auntie Fang is generous enough not to call the police. If you don’t apologize today…” Before he could finish, I walked over to Fang Yingyue. I was planning to move out today anyway. To get far away from these two. An apology wouldn’t kill me. I bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, Auntie Fang. I was wrong.” Then, without looking back, I ran out of the room. At the door, Ming Xunzhou caught my arm. “Go home and stay there. Don’t cause any more trouble! No matter what you think, I am marrying Yingyue. It’s her or no one!” He turned and went back into the room. The door slammed shut, severing whatever bond was left between us. Chapter 2 The next day, I walked into Director Liu’s office. “Director Liu, I’d like to apply for the spot at the Music Conservatory.” Director Liu was surprised. Just two days ago, he had specifically talked to me, urging me to take this opportunity. I had turned him down, saying I had “family matters” to attend to. Everyone knew what that meant. My open pursuit of Ming Xunzhou was an open secret. “Family matters sorted?” he asked tactfully. “Sorted,” I said without hesitation. “Permanently.” He nodded and pulled a form from his desk. “Fill this out. Give it to me by tomorrow.” “I’ll do it now.” I hunched over the desk and filled it out in minutes. When I handed it back, Director Liu looked at me with mixed emotions. He had served with my father. He’d watched me grow up. He valued my talent and didn’t want to see me throw my life away on a hopeless romance. “Xia, when you get to Shanghai, focus on your studies. Don’t chase after things that aren’t real. You’re young. You should see the world. There are so many possibilities out there.” Tears welled up in my eyes. He had tried to tell me this so many times, and I had always brushed him off. This time, I really heard him. “I understand, Uncle Liu.” “You have about ten days. Prepare well.” I pressed my lips together. This time, I was going to live for myself. … After training, I returned to the Ming house. As I pushed open the door, I saw Ming Xunzhou standing by the window. The first floor of our military compound housing had poor lighting, leaving his face half in shadow. “Uncle Ming, you’re home.” I tried to escape upstairs. “Come here.” He beckoned, his voice heavy with authority. I braced myself and stood opposite him, keeping a deliberate two-meter distance. He pointed at a paper on the coffee table. “No matter what you think, the wedding is happening.” “I understand.” In this life, I wouldn’t harbor any delusions about him. “Uncle Ming, rest assured. I’ve taken your words to heart.” Seeing my obedience, he nodded, satisfied. “Good. I’ll chalk this up to your age. If you sincerely repent, Yingyue will forgive you.” “Go to the hospital tomorrow. Take care of her until she’s discharged.” I paused, but nodded. I needed to lay low. To hide myself until I could leave for good. I had a feeling Fang Yingyue was not someone to be trifled with. Survival was the priority. Once I got through these few days and left, everything would be fine. “Okay.” I turned to go upstairs. “Remember,” he called out just as my foot touched the first step. “Don’t cause any more trouble.” My pupils constricted as I stood with my back to him. “I know, Uncle Ming. I’ll take good care of Auntie Fang.” I replied calmly, keeping my eyes down. Standing by the window, Ming Xunzhou felt unsettled. Something was off. “Auntie Fang,” “Uncle Ming.” It gave him the creeps. When he had first introduced Fang Yingyue, he had forced me to call her “Auntie.” Back then, I had exploded. “She’s not my aunt! And you’re not my uncle! You’re barely older than me!” In the blink of an eye, he couldn’t remember when I had stopped calling him by his name. “Good. That’s a good girl.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, so he just watched me walk upstairs. Chapter 3 Early the next morning, I went to the hospital. With a heavy heart, I knocked on Fang Yingyue’s door. But the bed was empty. I stopped a nurse. “Excuse me, where is the patient from this room?” Busy, she pointed upwards. “I think I saw her go upstairs.” I thanked her and hurried up. But upstairs was the roof. Ming Xunzhou had entrusted her care to me. If she caught a cold up there, I’d be blamed again. I quickened my pace. I reached the roof and scanned the area. I saw her head popping up over the edge. “Fang…” Before I could shout, a man’s voice drifted over. “Good thing I ran fast last night, or the patrol would have caught me. I’d be done for.” “We agreed on a thousand yuan.” I froze, gripping the doorframe. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang. Fang Yingyue frowned and looked over. When she saw it was me, panic flashed across her face. “You go first. We’ll talk later.” “Don’t forget!” The man glanced at me, ducked his head, and disappeared down the other stairwell. I stumbled as I tried to recover from the noise. “What did you hear?” Fang Yingyue advanced on me. I forced a smile, my eyelashes trembling. I couldn’t understand how Ming Xunzhou could love a woman like this. I laughed bitterly. “You’ll do anything, won’t you? Why does Uncle Ming want to marry you?!” She grabbed my hair and dragged me to the edge of the roof. “Angry?” “You little vixen! You’ve been around him for years, and has he ever looked at you like a woman? He only loves me. He’s marrying me.” I shouted back. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell him?” But doubt crept in. Even if I told him, what would it prove? That she was bad? Would it separate them? “Go ahead. Tell him. See who he believes.” She smiled confidently. She was right… My heart ached. Ming Xunzhou only believed her. He wouldn’t believe a word I said. While I was distracted, she grabbed my neck and tried to push me over the edge. “Jiang Xia, you’re in the way! As long as you’re here, Ming Xunzhou and I can’t have a normal life. You need to leave.” She squeezed, and I screamed. I struggled with everything I had. I didn’t want to die again! I was young. I had so much to do. Suddenly, the pressure on my neck released. She let go. I stumbled back. To my horror, Fang Yingyue stepped onto the ledge herself. Four stories up. Tears streamed down her face instantly. She screamed at the people below. “Xia, please! I don’t want to die!” “I want to get married! I want to have babies…” She glanced back at me, a smirk playing on her lips. I shuddered. I understood. I rushed to the edge and looked down. Ming Xunzhou was staring up at me, his face twisted in fury. He pointed a finger at me, then shot into the building like an arrow, racing up the stairs. Chapter 4 Slap! Ming Xunzhou burst onto the roof and slapped me without a word. I held my burning cheek, my mind blank. “Jiang Xia! How can you be so vicious at such a young age?!” He roared. I was stunned. In all our years together, I had never seen him this angry. Even in my past life, after Fang Yingyue died, he hadn’t been this enraged. I didn’t cry. I held back the tears. I was leaving. I didn’t want complications. Once I was gone, everything would be peaceful. “No, not just vicious. Shameless. You pester me, confess to me, and now that I’m marrying Yingyue, you try to kill her over and over again!” He raised his hand to strike me again. But Fang Yingyue threw herself at him, hugging his waist. “Xunzhou, maybe she didn’t mean it. Don’t be mad, okay? You raised her. You shouldn’t doubt her character.” Ming Xunzhou’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice cold as ice. “You’re too kind. Yesterday she tried to ruin your reputation, today she tries to push you off a roof. How long will you defend her?” “I just…” Her eyes fluttered. “I don’t want to make things hard for you. We have to live together after we’re married.” He held her tight, his heart aching for her. “What nonsense! I’m not marrying you so you can suffer in my house!” “Don’t worry. I’ll discipline her!” He vowed. I watched him silently. She was right. He only believed her. To him, she was everything. Seeing me staring at him only made him angrier. Fang Yingyue bit her lip and burst into tears. “Maybe… maybe you two should be together. I shouldn’t ruin your relationship.” “Xunzhou, let’s just forget it.” She pushed him away. “No!” He hugged her fiercely. “Yingyue, what are you saying? We’re getting married in a few days. She’s the child I raised! How could there be anything between us?!” He turned and grabbed my wrist. “Jiang Xia, one last chance. If you hurt Yingyue again, get out. Never step foot in my house again!” I trembled. “Do you hear me?!” He shouted. “Okay.” I collapsed to the floor. He was convinced I wanted to hurt her. I couldn’t explain. If I just avoided her for the next few days, I could survive this. I clenched my fist, nails digging into my palm. Ming Xunzhou, I really don’t dare to love you anymore. That night, he sat me down for a long talk. Seeing my swollen face, he handed me a boiled egg. “Use this. Let it be a lesson.” I frowned. “No need. It’s fine.” “Don’t be spiteful.” It sounded like comfort, but it was a warning. “You lock yourself in your room to force me to come talk to you. You use my sympathy against me. You’re pushing me.” His voice grew colder. I shook my head. In my past life, I would have done anything for his attention. Starving myself, running away. But not this time. I swore I wouldn’t interfere with his happiness. As long as we were all alive, nothing else mattered. Besides, after that slap, why would I want his attention? “Uncle Ming, I’m happier than anyone that you’re marrying the woman you love! Don’t worry, I’ve accepted reality. I won’t pester you again.”

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The senior designer at my new firm made it her mission to undermine me. She didn’t just publicly declare that I was incompetent; she got our manager to take away the first major project I’d ever been given. My explanations went nowhere. But that evening, I stumbled upon the two of them whispering outside the office. “Mark, just give the project to me,” she was saying. “The commission’s ten grand. We’ll do a sixty-forty split—your sixty. I promise you, I’ll deliver something way better than Sophie ever could.” My manager agreed instantly and handed the project over to her. That same night, I got a notification from a client on Fiverr. The usual. Got a new rush job. A thousand bucks. You in? 1 The new job was supposed to be a fresh start, but my senior colleague, Jessica, seemed determined to make it my end. I’d only been at the design firm for a week when Diane, the creative director, handed me a dream project. A major campaign for a new downtown shopping center. Land it, she’d said, and a ten-thousand-dollar commission was mine. For the first time in months, I felt a spark ignite inside me. I was driven. I was deep in the flow, sketching out a concept on my tablet, when a shadow fell over my desk. I looked up. It was Jessica. She loomed over my shoulder, her finger jabbing toward my screen. Her tone was laced with a disgust she didn’t bother to hide. “Is this… your concept?” she asked, her voice carrying across the open-plan office. “It looks like a bunch of scribbles. Who can even tell what this is?” The low hum of keyboards and quiet chatter around us died. Everyone was listening now. “This is for a mall promotion. We need to drive foot traffic, inspire people to spend money. Who is this mess supposed to appeal to?” She shook her head, a theatrical sigh escaping her lips. “Do you even understand the brief, Sophie?” The friendly atmosphere of the office shattered. I could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on me, watching. My cheeks burned. “It’s just a rough draft, Jessica,” I said, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be. “It’s how I work out ideas. It’s not meant to be a final—” “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, her face hardening. “That I’m too stupid to understand your process? I’ve been here two years longer than you. I’ve landed six-figure accounts. A rough draft isn’t some secret language.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was somehow louder than a shout. “I’m saying you have a problem with your design. That a project this important is out of your league.” I was stunned into silence. It was like a switch had been flipped. Just days ago, she’d been the one showing me the best coffee spot, all smiles and helpful tips. It wasn’t until lunch that another designer, a woman named Maria, quietly filled me in. “She wants your project,” Maria whispered, glancing around the breakroom to make sure Jessica wasn’t there. I stared at her, a half-eaten sandwich forgotten in my hand. At my last job, we competed, sure, but it was professional. Healthy. This felt predatory. “Jessica has a reputation,” Maria continued, her eyes darting around nervously. “She’s good, and she knows it. If she sees a project she wants, especially one with a big commission, she finds a way to get it.” She gave me a pointed look. “That commission is pretty high, isn’t it?” It all clicked into place. The sudden chill. The public criticism. Last week, right after Diane had assigned me the project, Jessica had cornered me by the printers. “Heard you got the mall campaign,” she’d said casually. “Is there a bonus attached?” I liked her. I was new and eager to make friends. So, I told her yes. She pressed, asking how much, her curiosity feeling less like friendly interest and more like an interrogation. I was hesitant to talk about money, but she was so persistent, so disarmingly charming, that I finally caved. “Ten thousand,” I’d admitted. The moment the words left my mouth, her eyes had widened, just for a second, and then her smile became something fixed and glassy. After that, she was always there, hovering by my desk, offering “feedback” that felt more like picking apart my confidence thread by thread. I’d been annoyed, but I wrote it off as the price of being the new girl. I never imagined she’d humiliate me in front of the entire team. This wasn’t about helping me. This was about making me look incompetent. “She’s trying to pressure you,” Maria added, seeing the look on my face. “She wants you to get so stressed that you drop the project yourself.” A bitter, humorless laugh escaped me. “And the company just lets this happen? This can’t be good for morale.” Maria shrugged helplessly. “She brings in a lot of money. Management looks the other way on a lot of things, as long as it’s not too blatant.” She then offered a piece of advice that made my stomach turn. “Honestly, if the commission isn’t a life-or-death thing for you, it might be easier to just let her have it. The last designer she targeted got so torn down, he quit.” But this wasn’t just any project. It was my first big break. I wasn’t going to let some office bully scare me out of it. I didn’t say anything else. I just went back to my desk and worked. That evening, I finished two solid initial concepts and sent them to the project’s group chat for Mark, our department head, and Diane to review. My phone buzzed a minute later. I expected it was Mark. It was Jessica. Why is she in my project’s group chat? I wondered. 2 A single question mark appeared in the chat from Jessica, hanging there ominously. It was immediately followed by a string of voice messages. I pressed play, and her sharp, cutting voice filled the quiet of my apartment. “What is this garbage, Sophie? If this goes to the client, our firm’s reputation will be toast.” “You’re wasting everyone’s time. If you can’t deliver this on schedule, you’re jeopardizing a major account. What are you going to do then?” My blood began to boil. Mark and Diane hadn’t even had a chance to respond. What gave her the right to tear into my work like this? I’d tried to be respectful, but I was done being a doormat. I typed quickly, tagging our supervisors. @Mark @Diane Here are the initial concepts I finished today. Let me know your thoughts so I can proceed. Then, I tagged Jessica. @Jessica I think you might be in the wrong channel. This is my project, so I don’t believe you’re on the review team for it. Her reply was instantaneous. What kind of attitude is that? I didn’t hesitate. No attitude. It just seems like you’re overstepping. Do you not have enough of your own work to do? It was a low blow, but it was true. I’d never actually seen Jessica design anything. She spent most of her days walking around the office, watching what everyone else was doing. Before the fight could escalate, Mark jumped in. Hey now, I’m the one who added Jessica to the channel. She’s been with us for years, she’s practically our signature designer. I wanted her to lend her expertise. Jessica immediately pounced. See? I try to be helpful and I get accused of having too much time on my hands. Unbelievable. I felt a surge of frustration. This wasn’t “helpful.” It was a targeted attack, and Mark was enabling her. Arguing further would only make me look difficult, especially since he was clearly on her side. So, I ignored her completely. @Mark Are the designs okay? If so, I’ll continue with this direction. A moment later, he sent a link to a portfolio collection. It was followed by a voice note. “Take a look through these, Sophie. These are some of our biggest hits from the past few years, all designed by Jessica. Study them. Try to stick to this style.” I knew Jessica was the office star, but I’d never actually seen her portfolio. A flicker of curiosity pushed past my anger. I clicked the link. My breath caught in my throat. I blinked, rubbing my eyes as if they were deceiving me. How could this be? I scrolled through the polished, professional designs. A corporate logo here, a web layout there. Then I saw it. The most recent entry. I zoomed in, my heart pounding against my ribs. This wasn’t just familiar. This was the exact design I’d sold on Fiverr last month for a hundred bucks.

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Before transmigrating, the System let us pick skills. I sneezed, and between ‘Might’ and ‘Beauty,’ I chose ‘Mutate’. Just because I said the Demon Lord’s feet were white and soft, he stopped going barefoot. And I… I built my career on being a pervert. 1. I was chosen by the System along with two other girls. Before transmigrating, the System let us pick skills. Rosie picked ‘Beauty,’ Lily picked ‘Might.’ I was still hesitating when I accidentally sneezed and picked ‘Mutate’. Me: “…Can I reroll?” System: “Rest assured, Host. Every skill is extremely practical. Do the Hosts have any other questions?” Me: “First of all, I didn’t do anything to any of you…” Before I could finish, we were kicked into the book. After a wave of dizziness, I slowly woke up. Can anyone tell me why we’re being strung up from the ceiling of a great hall?!! A man, cold as frost and radiating evil, sat on the throne. Red robes, black hair unbound. He looks just like the book’s main villain, the Demon Lord Kaelen. Which means we’re… we must be in Chapter 23. The Demon Lord picks his handmaidens, and we, as spies from the number one righteous sect, the Skyguard Sect, snuck in, got caught, and are being interrogated. Mamma mia!! I remember this chapter. Everyone dies. Rosie and Lily, hanging next to me, hadn’t processed the plot yet. Kaelen gestured to his guards, and a guy with a bull’s face stepped up and cracked a whip at us. Rosie burst into tears: “Waaaaah.” Lily was defiant: “If you’ve got the guts, let me down and we’ll fight one-on-one!” Me: “Ahhh~ That’s the stuff~” Rosie: “…” Lily: “…” Bull-Face: “…” Bull-Face silently took a step back. I wanted to cry. I didn’t mean to! But my skill is ‘Mutate,’ which sounds a lot like ‘Pervert’! Maybe Lily’s challenge worked. Kaelen had us cut down. He walked toward us, his feet bare. His voice was rough: “Since you dared to sneak into my Demon Palace, you must be prepared. The Skyguard Sect sent me three gifts. I’ll be sure to kill you beautifully and send you back.” Lily whispered, “We have skills, right? Use them!” Rosie went first. She “stumbled” and fell delicately into the Demon Lord’s arms, ready to conquer him with ‘Beauty’. Kaelen just tossed her aside. “Feed her to the fish demons.” Lily charged, trying ‘Might.’ The next second, Kaelen had her by the throat. “Fertilizer.” I quietly asked the System: “What happens if I die?” System: “You are already dead in the real world. If you die in the book, you will just… disappear. But if you complete the mission, reform the Demon Lord, and save the world, you will get a chance at rebirth.” Seeing me frozen, Kaelen looked down at me. “Hmph. And what are you thinking?” I trembled: “D-do I really have to say?” “Say it, or I’ll kill you right now.” “Your feet are… really white… and soft.” I couldn’t stop myself. “Sss… haah.” … 2. Aaaaaah! This stupid system! I was only thinking it, I didn’t want to say it! Visibly, Kaelen tucked his feet back under his robes. The next second, he roared: “Tear her limb from limb!” I lunged and hugged his leg. “My Lord! I’m not a spy! I’m here to defect! I’m so sick of those righteous sects! You are handsome, magnificent, and the true ruler of this world!” Kaelen sneered. “Handsome? You find me handsome when I’m killing people?” Me: “Ah, no. When you’re not wearing clothes.” Kaelen: “…” Aaaah, this stupid mouth! Kaelen gripped my chin. “You want to defect? Prove it.” Prove I wasn’t with the righteous sects. Easy. I opened my mouth and cursed them, from their ancestors to their descendants. I used every curse word I’d ever learned. By the end, Kaelen was frowning. Bull-Face patted my shoulder. “Kid, stop. That’s too foul. Even I can’t listen to this.” But I saved my life. Kaelen said he’d keep me around, so I was thrown into the servants’ quarters. I was so tired, I passed out. When I woke up… I was a white cat. Me: “System. Explain.” System: “This is your skill, Host. ‘Mutation’.” Mutate… so that’s what it meant. “Wait! Then what’s with all those perverted comments?!” The System was silent for a long time. “Just your personality.” Don’t say it. You’re worse than I am. 3. Under the cover of night, I stretched my new cat body and explored the Demon Palace. The protagonist of this book is the top disciple of the Skyguard Sect. It’s a standard ‘level-up and collect a harem’ fantasy. I’m just cannon fodder. A pretty-face who gets killed off before even joining the hero’s harem. And the villain, Kaelen… the book described him as evil and ruthless. But I latched onto the important part: ‘Strong build, eight-pack abs.’ I mean… I have to go see, right? It was only as I was climbing Kaelen’s roof that I slowly realized… …I really am a pervert. This brief moment of self-reflection made me slip. A powerful force wrapped around my neck and yanked me down. The world spun, and I fell into water. MRRROW! I shrieked and scrambled out of the water, coming face-to-face with two magnificent pecs. I looked up. Kaelen was studying me. “A cat?” A low-level demon scrambled in. “M-My Lord! Forgive me! I’ll dispose of this pest at once!” He lunged for me. I struggled, fell back in the water, and tried to kick off the bottom of the pool to launch myself. I… kicked the wrong spot. There was a low grunt. I was lifted out of the water again. Oho. This kitty… is toast… 4. Kaelen’s face looked… pained. Like he was holding something back. The little demon by his side didn’t dare breathe. In this heavy atmosphere, I started to… knead. Right on Kaelen’s chest, with my little pink paws. “Meeeew~” You think this is a desperate struggle? Wrong! An adorably fluffy kitten! Making biscuits! On your pecs! You’re gonna kill me? Impossible. Absolutely impossible. …His pecs feel really nice… I stared at the spot my paws were kneading… and drooled. I swiped at the drool, missed, and it dripped onto his hand. … “Tonight, we’re having cat.” No! He was about to hand me to the demon when I grabbed his hand and nuzzled it, purring my little heart out. He paused. He squinted at me. “This cat… it seems to have some spiritual energy.” I nodded frantically. “You, leave. I have other plans for this cat.” I’d saved my life. Again. Wait! I clung to the door of the granary. Your “other plans” are… PEST CONTROL??? Before I could object, I was tossed inside. When I was dragged out half an hour later, I was holding a rat, trying to see if it was a boy or a girl. The rat suddenly poofed into a large, burly man, clutching his chest and sobbing. “I’ve never met such a perverted cat in my life! It’s just… too much!” Kaelen waved his hand. The rat-man scrambled away. Kaelen stared at me, deep in thought. “Indeed… a spirit cat. That rat demon has only been cultivating for a hundred years, and your aura let him shapeshift.” He chuckled, pulling me into his arms. “From now on, you stay with me.”

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