Category: English

The year Scarlett and I were purest, the year I poured my entire soul into her. Three scars became etched onto her body for me: one above her brow, one on her ankle, and one across her back. Everyone whispered that Scarlett loved me more than life itself. Until, another man brazenly showed up at my door. “You must be Adrian, right?” He flung a stack of photos, hitting me square in the face. “Scarlett hasn’t loved you for ages. I suggest you get lost, while you still have a shred of dignity.” In the photos, Scarlett’s gaze was soft, tender. I watched the rain intensify, then subtly raised a hand. The man’s shriek, muffled by the downpour, left a final, desperate plea: “Scarlett won’t let you get away with this!” But I just looked coldly at Scarlett, who sat across from me, ready to lay down the law. “Sign the papers.” “You disgust me.” “Adrian!” Scarlett sat opposite me. Behind her stood her two most loyal lieutenants, surrounded by dozens of bodyguards. They filled my spacious living room. It wasn’t a negotiation; it was a siege. I watched Scarlett, her fury barely contained, tap the table. “He’s still in the ICU.” She raised a brow, the strategically placed lighting highlighting the prominent scar there. “He was innocent,” Scarlett’s voice was low, laced with an oppressive edge. “He’s only twenty. Twenty years old, and you almost ended his life! Do you know what the doctors told me?” “They said he might never walk like a normal person again.” Scarlett’s voice blended with the rhythmic drumming of rain against the window. I remembered that day, the man’s dying breath a desperate shout. “Scarlett won’t let you get away with this!” “So,” I met Scarlett’s furious gaze, handing my untouched tea to the maid, “you’ve come here, making such a scene, to defend him?” “What,” I let out a soft, amused laugh, “do you want half my life, or are you planning to break one of my legs to compensate for his?” I smiled, pulling my cashmere throw higher around me. James, my butler, immediately adjusted the indoor temperature. I looked at Scarlett. “Who does he think he is, that you’d storm in here on his behalf? Scarlett, have you forgotten? *I* was the one who stood by you and helped you get where you are today, not him. Are you truly prepared to turn against me for him, or are you here to end my life?” My voice was calm, unhurried. James, who had been keenly observing the tense atmosphere, instantly drew his pistol and aimed it at Scarlett’s head. Her lieutenants immediately tensed, ready for a fight, but Scarlett merely mirrored my smile. “Adrian, the days of brute force and open conflict are over. I don’t want to fight you,” Scarlett pushed away the divorce papers I’d prepared. “Divorce is a messy, brutal business; I won’t put us through it. But you *will* personally apologize to him. Otherwise, don’t blame me for getting ugly.” Scarlett rose from the sofa, walked up to James, grabbed his wrist, and pressed the gun to her own forehead. “Shoot me?” “You actually believe you’re on that level?” Scarlett yanked James’s wrist outward. A sharp, sickening crack echoed through the room. It was her right-hand man who let out a choked cry, as a fruit knife, that had been on my table, now lodged itself precisely in the center of his thigh. I met Scarlett’s incredulous stare, and smiled. “Scarlett, my people don’t fight back out of respect for me. But that doesn’t mean,” I walked up to Scarlett, gently taking her hand and prying it from James’s wrist, “you get to touch my people.” I understood then. Our relationship had reached its end. When the doctor was setting James’s bones, he was still fuming. “Young Master, you went through so much with that Scarlett girl. And now, you’re just going to stand by and watch others walk all over you?”

I didn’t answer. My phone buzzed with a new friend request. The profile picture was unmistakable. It was a photo of Leo and Scarlett kissing. I accepted the request. Immediately, a voice message came through. “Adrian, I told you Scarlett wouldn’t let you get away with it. Breaking your butler’s hand is just a little warning.” “Scarlett said she wants you to apologize to me in person.” “I’ll be waiting.” “Everyone says Scarlett loves you more than life itself, but I’m curious to see just how much,” Leo sent a few more photos. “Which bed do you think is best?” “Scarlett said the most dangerous place is always the safest. So, as soon as I’m out of the hospital tomorrow, I’m moving into your place, the one you share with Scarlett.” “That room no one is ever allowed into? I’m coming for it.” Listening to Leo’s voice, I looked up at the giant wedding photo displayed in the hall. It felt like a cruel joke. The dagger I was idly twirling in my hand found its mark, piercing the smiling Scarlett’s eyes in the photo. “Utterly disgusting.” I stepped out of the great hall to see Scarlett overseeing the delivery of a bed from a truck, instructing her men to carry it inside. We collided, and for once, Scarlett’s expression stiffened. I leaned against the doorway, listening to Leo’s joyful voice. “Scarlett, why aren’t you coming in?” Then, he turned, his eyes meeting mine. “Oh, if it isn’t Adrian,” Leo slung his arm around Scarlett’s, a defiant smirk on his face. “Are you here to welcome me?” “Have you decided to apologize yet?” I watched Leo’s brazenness, and the subtle indulgence in Scarlett’s eyes. A dense, prickly pain bloomed in my chest. Before I could respond, Scarlett spoke for him. “The doctor said Leo needs rest,” her voice, when she spoke his name, was incredibly soft. “You have a nutritionist anyway, it’s just one more mouth to feed. Adrian, don’t miss this opportunity I’m giving you.” I couldn’t quite fathom it. Scarlett. What made her so certain? That I would meekly accept her terms, that I would repeatedly compromise my principles and boundaries for her. I listened to Scarlett’s self-assured tone and laughed. My laughter was joined by James, who was having the damaged wedding photo carried away, asking me: “Young Master, where should this go?” I saw Scarlett’s face tighten. I pointed to a nearby trash bin. “Have it shredded. And then dispose of it.” James nodded, sending someone to fetch the scissors. But Scarlett called out to James, then walked up to me. “What kind of childish tantrum are you throwing now, Adrian?” “Adrian,” Scarlett’s voice turned cold. “I told you, this whole situation is your fault to begin with. Me helping Leo recover is a way for you to gain some good karma. Don’t be ungrateful!” “That’s right, Adrian.” Leo followed, stepping closer. “Scarlett told me everything. You were responsible for Scarlett’s and your child’s death. The spiritual advisor said if you want to have a child, you need to make amends. You’re not appreciating Scarlett’s kindness, and you keep creating more trouble. You’re practically driving Scarlett away.” Leo’s words were like a needle piercing my heart, tearing open a wound that had just begun to scab over, making it fester anew. I looked at Leo’s triumphant face, then at Scarlett, who was about to try and silence him. I grabbed Leo by his hair, laughing. “Who gave you the nerve to speak to me like that?” Before Leo could beg for mercy, I dragged him, slamming his head hard against the solid wooden door. A muffled *thud* echoed, followed by Leo’s scream. Scarlett grabbed my hand, stopping me from hitting him again. “Enough.” Scarlett looked at me. “Leo is young, and he speaks without thinking! But he’s not entirely wrong. How much more trouble are you going to cause, Adrian?”

I stared at Scarlett, utterly disbelieving. It was *her* who had muscled in on someone else’s territory, leading to our child and her being ambushed. I had stormed into enemy territory, disregarding all danger, to take down their leader, saving her but losing our child in the process. It was *her* who, afterwards, knelt before me, slapping herself 99 times, crying and kowtowing. “Adrian!” Her face was swollen from the blows, blood mixed with nosebleed smeared all over, her voice thick with sobs. “If I, Scarlett, ever betray you in this life! May I be struck down by lightning!” “I, Scarlett!” “Will be Adrian’s loyal dog!” Scarlett’s vows still echoed in my ears. She had ordered all news to be suppressed, forbidding anyone from discussing our child, understanding it was my forbidden topic. We had a silent agreement, yet we both still prayed for the child. And now. I looked at Scarlett’s face, released Leo, and watched as she visibly relaxed, her tone softening slightly. “Adrian, your temper is—” I plunged a dagger into Scarlett’s brow bone, and smiled. “Scarlett, those who betray a true heart must swallow a thousand needles. This is the first!” The dagger pierced her flesh, then pulled free. Blood splattered across my face. I watched the medal on Scarlett’s brow vanish, replaced by raw, gruesome flesh. I curved a mocking smile, but Leo violently shoved me. I staggered backward. When I looked up, I met Leo’s hateful eyes. “How dare you hurt her?” The next second. I walked toward Leo, raised my hand, and punched him squarely in the face. “If you actually had any guts, you wouldn’t just be a kept man.” “Either impress me,” I grabbed Leo’s hair, kicking him in the knee until he dropped to his knees, looking up at me, “and make Scarlett divorce me, then become her next husband.” “Or,” I bent down, leaning close to Leo, a smile spreading across my face, “just wait for the day I destroy you.” Leo’s eyes were red from crying, his body trembling like a cornered rabbit, but his gaze remained defiant. “If you’ve got the guts, just kill me!” “If you don’t kill me, I’ll never leave Scarlett!” Leo’s tears caught the light of the setting sun. “I’ll be with Scarlett forever.” I froze. I remembered that year, when I was sixteen, my father was ambushed and fell into the sea. My mother gave her life to protect me, pushing me to shore. The sunset was stained crimson with blood. It was Scarlett who waited on the shore, with the fearless courage of a young girl, forging a path through hell for me to survive. It was Scarlett, with the scar above her brow a badge of courage, and the gruesome wound on her back, who had crashed directly into my heart, shouting: “Young Master!” “Run!” I was terrified, but I still rushed headfirst into that sea of blood, fighting alongside Scarlett until today. Scarlett shoved me away with force. Blood still streamed from her brow, running down her eyelashes like tears of blood, dripping onto my heart. “Adrian,” Scarlett winced, closing one eye. “You truly disappoint me.” “I’m not divorcing you because of love.” Scarlett pulled Leo into her arms. “It’s only because,” Scarlett said, “your parents were kind to me, and we’ve shared life-or-death moments. Don’t push my patience any further, or you *will* regret it!” Leo sobbed in her arms, crying out, “Scarlett! I don’t want to live here! I don’t!” “I’m scared!” Leo cried, clutching her shirt, his voice hysterical. “I don’t want to live with this lunatic! He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me!”

The air thickened, suffocating. I almost saw my sixteen-year-old self, just as frantic, pushing Scarlett away, only to be held close as she whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Scarlett held Leo, gently stroking his back, murmuring. “Don’t be afraid.” “I’m here.” “I’m here,” Scarlett’s eyes met mine, wary and defiant. “I won’t let you hurt Leo. If you won’t agree, then don’t blame me.” The day Scarlett had all her belongings moved out, she took Leo to the West Indies. Leo mentioned wanting an island of his own, so Scarlett, without a second thought, bought him one. She took Leo to Iceland to chase the Northern Lights. Leo posted photos on Ins of the sapphire Scarlett bought him, even snapping a picture of a star with the caption: [From now on, whenever I look up, there will be a star just for me. Scarlett and Leo, a romance for life.] Scarlett’s love was passionate and overt, her affections never hidden; she wanted the whole world to know. I watched Scarlett’s blatant favoritism towards Leo. I looked at the villa, now largely empty, and the plain silver ring on my ring finger, the one Scarlett had ordered that year for 520 dollars. I smiled. “James.” My butler poured me another cup of tea. I spoke softly: “If I’m not mistaken, the largest supplier for Scarlett Inc. should be one who owes a debt of gratitude to my parents.” James immediately placed a contract in front of me. “Young Master.” He pointed to the clauses within. “Your father and mother dedicated their lives to you. These were all paths they paved for your future.” I gazed at the document, recalling the sunsets in the West Indies, the Northern Lights in Iceland, and that star. I dialed Scarlett’s number, but it was busy. I tried her SnapChat video call. Finally, Leo’s bare, red-marked torso appeared on screen. “What do you want?” “Scarlett’s in the shower.” Leo’s camera panned towards the bathroom, the steamy glass hinting at something intimate. “I thought you’d understand Scarlett’s attitude by now. Why are you still clinging on?” Leo sat on the bed, deliberately biting his lip. “Actually, there’s something I shouldn’t tell you, but I don’t think keeping it a secret is a good idea either.” “Adrian.” “Guess why Scarlett loves me and not you?” The video call ended. I sat in the living room, feeling the air tighten around my throat, then noticed my heart beating erratically. I dialed a second number. Scarlett and Leo hosted a gala that made local headlines. Everyone said Leo had finally achieved his wish, becoming Scarlett’s partner. No one dared to call him a sugar baby anymore. Instead, they respectfully addressed him as: “Mr. Leo.” The more sycophantic guests would even smile and say, “Ms. Scarlett, you two are a perfect match.” In the ballroom. Leo, arm-in-arm with Scarlett, ascended the stage. Under the glare of the spotlights, they truly looked like a prince and princess from a fairytale. Their mere presence brought a thunderous applause. “Tonight, I want to use this occasion,” Scarlett looked at Leo tenderly, “to introduce him to everyone.” “He, Leo—” The main doors were violently flung open. Countless men in black suits streamed into the ballroom. The leader, holding a stack of debt papers, threw them directly at Scarlett’s face. “You’re Scarlett, right?” Scarlett looked utterly bewildered, her fury reaching its peak. Just as she was about to call security, she realized there wasn’t a single one of her own people in the entire ballroom. “The debt you owe,” the man pressed a gun to the still-unhealed scar on Scarlett’s brow, and smiled, “it’s time to pay.” The bandage on her brow began to seep blood. The scene erupted into chaos. Screams pierced the air. Someone shouted, “What the hell is going on?! Isn’t today Ms. Scarlett’s big announcement for her boyfriend?”

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My sister and I were simultaneously chosen for a marriage alliance with the Beastkin Federation. In my previous life, Seraphina had rushed ahead of me, picking the stunningly handsome and noble Crown Prince of the Serpent Clan as her husband. I was left to marry the brutish and unsightly Prince of the Lycan Clan. But later, the handsome Serpent Crown Prince, frail in body, was tragically struck down by lightning and died during an attempt at full human transformation. Seraphina was reduced to a mere plaything for the Serpent Princes, stripped of all dignity. Meanwhile, the Lycan Prince I had chosen received a rare chance to transform early into a formidable and dominant Lycan King, becoming the rightful heir to his clan. I became the most esteemed woman in the Lycan Clan. The entire Beastkin Federation said the Lycan King adored me, or else I wouldn’t have borne him child after child. When I opened my eyes again, Seraphina and I were back on the day of the marriage discussions. This time, to my utter surprise, Seraphina chose the unsightly Lycan Prince. She gazed at me, utterly smug and triumphant, her eyes glinting with fierce ambition. It was then that I realized Seraphina, just like me, had been reborn. This couldn’t be better. I lowered my head, using feigned dejection to mask the exhilaration and tremor within me.

I am Anya, a princess of the Spirit Fox Clan. Our clan had lost the battle for territory against the Beastkin Federation. Father King decided that Seraphina and I would undertake a strategic marriage with the Beastkin to preserve the strength of our Spirit Fox Clan. At this very moment, in the great hall, Father King, just like in my previous life, had us choose our prospective husbands. On the enchanted scrying mirror sent by the Beastkin Federation, the proud and majestic Crown Prince of the Serpent Clan and the unsightly Prince of the Lycan Clan were clearly visible. I was still lost in the memories of my previous life when Seraphina, unable to contain her eagerness, spoke first: “Father King, I choose this fierce-looking Lycan Prince. Don’t let my little sister face such a terrifying Beastkin.” Seraphina’s demeanor seemed thoughtful and concerned, but her eyes subtly betrayed a steely resolve, as if she was absolutely certain of her choice. Seeing her like that, I knew my sister had been reborn, just like me. In my previous life, Seraphina chose the Serpent Crown Prince. But that seemingly distinguished and powerful Serpent Crown Prince was, in fact, frail. He tragically died after being struck by powerful lightning during his transformation. Seraphina was reduced to a mere plaything for the Serpent Princes, her life a living hell. Meanwhile, the Lycan Prince I had married unexpectedly received a rare chance to transform early into a formidable and dominant Lycan King, successfully becoming the leader of the Lycan Clan. I was revered as the Lycan Queen, bearing him eight children and living in unparalleled favor and prestige. So, in this life, she had completely changed her approach, choosing the Lycan Prince whom she had previously despised. Father King, hearing her profound and noble words, nodded in satisfaction, then turned to look at me. Because of Seraphina’s long-term oppression, I always presented a fragile facade of meekness to others. At this moment, I feigned ignorance and lowered my head, ‘thanking’ my sister for her supposed generosity. But where no one could see, I trembled with excitement. As Seraphina walked past me, she whispered, just loud enough for only the two of us to hear: “Little sister, the Serpent men, uh… they really *value* their women. You’ll find quite the ‘blessing’ waiting for you there, little sister.” She watched my stunned expression, offered a mysterious smile, and walked away. But what she didn’t know was that I was practically dancing with joy inside.

A few days later, Crown Prince Kaelen Serpentis of the Serpent Clan and Prince Jax Lycan of the Lycan Clan arrived together to escort us. Neither had fully transformed yet; their human torsos joined to their beast forms. Crown Prince Kaelen was tall, his face exquisitely handsome, with the proud aura of a born leader in his eyes. His lower body was a silvery serpent’s tail, shimmering with an iridescent sheen like scales, surprisingly beautiful and majestic. He knew I had chosen him and nodded slightly in my direction. I tucked in my fox tail and dutifully walked to his side. His eyes showed satisfaction, and he even reached out to stroke my fur. His touch was gentle, and suddenly, a pleasant shiver seemed to course through every cell of my body. I instinctively squinted my eyes. Next to us, Seraphina was excitedly hoisted onto Jax Lycan’s shoulder, who let out a loud howl. In my previous life, his rough demeanor had startled me too, but being naturally compliant, I had surprisingly gained his favor. Seraphina’s face turned pale green, and she nearly cursed out loud, but bit it back, forcing a terribly twisted smile instead. Jax Lycan carried her onto the carriage just like that, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Unexpectedly, Kaelen’s teasing voice came from above: “Little fox, what are you laughing at? Do you want me to carry you too?” When he smiled, it was like sunlight melting snow—so warm and captivating that I was stunned. While I was still dazed, a silver flash suddenly whipped past my eyes, wrapping itself around my waist. With a gentle tug, I was scooped up and delivered right into his arms. Feeling the icy chill of his embrace and the rapid thump of his heartbeat, I instantly blushed deeply, instinctively burying my face in his chest. His low chuckle rumbled in my ears, his trembling body making my heart pound and my cheeks flush. My sister in the previous life thought Crown Prince Kaelen was arrogant and rude. Was she insane? This was clearly my favorite kind of dominant alpha male, and my heart fluttered with a sweet, intoxicating sensation. In this dazed state, he carried me into the carriage. The carriage was lined with thick, soft fur blankets. As I lay on them, my fur even seemed to complement the color. It seemed my husband was quite fond of furry things. This was a good sign. Hehe, I started fantasizing about our married life. After entering the carriage, Kaelen coiled his tail into a neat bundle, resting on the blanket. He seemed especially sensitive to the cold, his body trembling slightly. Looking at his quiet, handsome face, I felt a pang of tenderness. I slowly moved closer to him, using my fur to warm him. We, the Spirit Fox Clan, possess an innate healing aura. When other Beastkin spend time with us, their spiritual energy slowly increases, and their minds become exceptionally peaceful. Kaelen visibly relaxed, spreading himself out. I could feel his entire body nestling under mine. A moment later, he actually drifted into a deep sleep. Bored, I started counting his serpent scales for fun. Before I knew it, I, too, had fallen asleep. When I woke up again, I found our bodies intertwined in a remarkably intimate way. Startled, I tried to get up, only to look up and meet Kaelen’s deep, piercing eyes. I flinched in fright, and he took a deep breath before finally pulling away from my body. “Little fox, you better not tempt me. I don’t want to touch you right now.” Hearing that, there was nothing left to misunderstand. My face instantly turned as red as a ripe apple, and I moved to sit far away from him. Seeing my pitiful expression, he chuckled softly, then helplessly waved me over. “Come here. I wasn’t scolding you; I was protecting you, silly.” At his words, I looked at him with wide, timid eyes. Steeling my resolve, I moved closer again. I had heard that shared spiritual practice was very effective for enhancing spiritual energy. Since I had decided to stand by him this lifetime, there was no turning back now. But to my surprise, he didn’t embrace me this time. Instead, he had me lie comfortably across his lap, and his hand gently stroked my fur. He smoothed my fur, stroke after stroke, like giving me a massage. I unconsciously closed my eyes in comfort. I heard him murmur beside my ear: “I don’t know why, but whenever I groom your fur, I feel more energized, my mind clears. Is it truly your Spirit Fox Clan’s healing aura?” Listening to him, I wondered, could it be that in my previous life, Seraphina didn’t help him enhance his spiritual energy, leading to his failed transformation? If so, it made sense. The Beastkin Federation agreed to end their conflicts through marriage alliances with us because of the unique bloodline of our Spirit Fox Clan. If Seraphina didn’t help Kaelen, he would naturally be too weak to withstand the lightning tribulation. Just then, the carriage suddenly halted. The guards and attendants outside reported that it was time for a meal. Only then did I realize I was a little hungry and looked at Kaelen with eager eyes. He let out a soft scoff, as if finding me utterly undignified, but immediately gave orders. His hand, however, continued to stroke my fur. “Prepare some of our specialty dishes for the Crown Princess, let her sample them.” The meal was quickly served. In front of me was a clean, roasted rabbit, glistening with oil and emanating an inviting aroma. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath, instantly enchanted. Kaelen watched me, amused, a hint of fondness in his eyes. He leaned forward, picked up a napkin, and gently wiped my furry paws. He even put a pair of hygienic gloves on me. “Look at you, my greedy little fox. Weren’t you fed enough back home?” He hit the mark. Father King had been starving us lately, only giving us a few wild fruits daily, to ensure we looked our best for Kaelen and Jax Lycan. I lowered my head, watching my paws being cleaned in his hands, and mumbled a dazed “Mmh.” A wave of warmth bloomed in my heart. A thoughtful and hygienic man, a little dominant, yes, but I absolutely loved it. Once everything was done, he said gently, “Eat.” I swallowed hard and eagerly began to eat. Having not eaten in ages, I was truly famished and completely forgot my usual etiquette. Only after I finished did I remember he hadn’t eaten yet, so I asked. But he simply said he was feeling unwell and would pass for now. Remembering how he had curled up earlier, a pang of pity struck me. I moved closer to him, enveloping him in my soft, blanket-like fox fur. He tensed for a moment, perhaps unsure of my intent. But moments later, his body relaxed, allowing me to comfortably settle around him. “You are my husband now. Let me heal you.” My voice, laced with tenderness, whispered in his ear. He remained silent, but I could feel something subtle shifting between us. And so, I held him, and we both drifted into a comfortable sleep.

There was still some distance to the Beastkin Federation, and our carriage traveled alongside Seraphina’s. The atmosphere in their carriage seemed vastly different from ours. Peculiar noises, mingled with Jax Lycan’s and Seraphina’s voices, made both Kaelen and me quite uncomfortable. Kaelen and I took the opportunity of a carriage stop to stretch our legs outside. Again, those odd sounds drifted from Seraphina’s carriage. I stole a glance at Kaelen, whose ears flushed a deep, telltale red, completely beyond his control. But he immediately turned to me, his face a patchy red, feigning annoyance. “Don’t listen in. You’re still too young.” Seeing his attempt at bravado, I lowered my head and stifled a laugh. A moment later, Seraphina was carried out by Jax Lycan. She seemed not to expect us to be there, and for a fleeting moment, she looked shy. But upon seeing me, an inexplicable smugness returned to her expression. I discreetly observed her, feigning ignorance and bewilderment. Jax Lycan set her down, then went off to hunt on his own. Lycans, before achieving full human form, had to eat wild game. Kaelen softly explained what he was going to do, then stroked my head and left. Seeing our intimacy firsthand, Seraphina’s eyes glinted with naked jealousy. She leaned closer to me. “Little sister, you and the Serpent Crown Prince seem very close, but there’s still a hint of distance, unlike Jax Lycan and me…” As she spoke, she seemed too shy to continue, her face flushed as she looked at me, the trace of desire not yet fully faded from her eyes. She thought I would envy her and the Lycan Prince’s early intimacy, believing it would secure her status within the Lycan Clan. She had no idea the endless captivity that awaited her. I sneered inwardly, but kept my expression neutral, my eyes wide and innocent as I sincerely congratulated her: “Congratulations, Sister, on your harmonious relationship with the Prince. May you soon be blessed with an heir.” Hearing my words, her face flushed even deeper, her eyes filled with the languid, sated contentment of one who’d had their fill. She cast a dismissive glance at me and returned to her carriage. As if she couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. Watching her retreating figure, many past memories surged through me. Good. She was still so arrogant and dismissive. People who are too proud sometimes pay a heavy price for it. Seraphina came from a noble background; her mother was from the White Feather Clan, one of the four great families of the Spirit Fox Clan. Both mother and daughter were immensely favored in the palace, which fostered her haughty and self-important personality. My birth mother, however, was merely a minor palace attendant. I was conceived during one of Father King’s drunken dalliances. Father King, naturally promiscuous, forgot about my mother as soon as he had taken his pleasure. We lived in a small, remote courtyard. In my memory, she would often lean against the doorway, hoping that unfeeling man would grace her with another glance. She developed a chronic illness after my birth and worried herself sick day in and day out, eventually falling ill within a few years. I cared for her while foraging for food everywhere. During our hardest times, we barely ate any meat every two days, which meant my fur was sparse and I looked rather homely even at five years old. Consequently, the princesses and princes of the palace often bullied me, Seraphina most of all. Her mother’s family held considerable power, so no one dared to defy her. I had survived all these years by playing naive and foolish. I held no expectations or affection for that royal family anymore; this strategic marriage was my farewell.

Seven days later, we arrived in the territory of the Beastkin Federation. The Beastkin Federation was formed by an alliance of many clans. The leader is chosen every four years through a fair and just contest of strength. The reigning monarch was currently King Oberon, the Serpent King, and Kaelen’s father. Therefore, Kaelen’s status was more esteemed than the Lycan Prince’s. As soon as we stepped out of the carriage, the welcoming procession arrived. Tall, handsome Serpent Clan members, already in their human forms, wore luxurious clothing. Behind them was an exquisitely elaborate and spacious carriage, its body gleaming with dazzling golden light. I looked at Kaelen with delight. He affectionately stroked my fur, then coiled his tail around me and carried me towards the carriage. In my previous life, when we arrived at the Beastkin Federation, Seraphina and Kaelen had somehow fallen out. Neither would back down, and Kaelen had simply left her behind and returned to the Royal City alone. I never had the chance to witness such a grand and luxurious scene. Without even turning back, I knew Seraphina’s face must be utterly grim right now, because I could hear the muffled, petulant sounds of her bickering with the Lycan Prince. “Husband, why aren’t our clan members here to greet us? Look how comfortable their carriage is. I’m the older sister, yet my younger sister’s procession has outdone mine!”

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On the day I snagged the International Violin Gold, a five-year-old video of mine mysteriously resurfaced. In the clip, torrential rain lashed down. I was kneeling beside a man, covered in blood, lying on the ground. I screamed, my voice raw, begging for help, my face a mask of terror and despair. That very night, Adrian, who hadn’t contacted me in the five years since we broke up, called. His voice, raw with disbelief and a painful uncertainty, cracked: “You… you actually cared about me? Why, for all these years, did I never know?” I discovered the five-year-old video had been leaked just as I was leaving a celebration dinner, hailing a ride-share to go home. In our music studio’s SnapChat group, someone had forwarded the leaked video. Several people were tagging me. “Is that really you, Iris? Must be a rumor, right?” “Iris has always been so reserved, so cool and composed. The person in the video might look a little like her, but it can’t possibly be our senior.” “Am I the only one curious about who the guy on the ground is?” The group chat buzzed with speculation. When I didn’t reply, the conversation slowly shifted back to congratulating me on winning the International Violin Gold. I sent a quick “Thank you” in the chat. No response to the video questions. As the city lights flickered on, the night air grew cold and sharp. I opened the video, watching that heart-wrenching version of myself. She felt like a stranger, distant, like a ghost from a past life. My phone rang just then—a long string of unfamiliar numbers. I usually didn’t answer unknown calls and was about to hang up. But watching that video had me distracted. My thumb slipped, and somehow, I hit “answer.” On the other end, Adrian, whom I hadn’t heard from in five years, spoke, his voice clearly agitated: “Is that really you in the video?” That all-too-familiar voice, cool yet laced with undeniable urgency, hit me unexpectedly. It was like an unseen hand suddenly, violently, clutched my heart. My breath hitched, sharp and ragged, as if a dark, humiliating secret had been yanked into the light. I fumbled, almost dropping the phone, desperate to hang up. His voice on the line seemed to tremble: “You… you actually cared about me? Why, for all these years, did I never know?”

My finger, poised to end the call, froze in that instant. The evening street pulsed with a relentless tide of traffic. My throat felt dry and tight. I stood rigidly on the sidewalk. After a long silence, I spoke softly: “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He seemed to let out a short, bitter laugh on the other end. “Doesn’t matter?” “Right, for someone like you, what could ever matter besides yourself?” A brutal, sudden ache tore through me, and for a moment, I lost my bearings. It wasn’t until a piercing car horn blared beside me that I snapped back to reality, realizing I was standing in the middle of a crosswalk. The green light for pedestrians had long since turned red. A car screeched to a halt right next to me. The driver rolled down their window, yelling something, their face contorted in anger. I didn’t hear a word. Perhaps it was the deepening twilight, or some other reason. My eyes burned, and my vision blurred. When the world around me stabilized, I walked to the other side of the street. The call had already ended. That familiar, long-unheard voice was gone from my phone. It felt like nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

After he hung up, I caught a ride-share home. When I arrived, my mom called, no pleasantries, just down to business. “I’ve arranged a solo recital for you at the Vienna Golden Hall at the end of next month. “Get ready. Don’t you dare embarrass me.” I walked through the door, my violin case on my back, fumbling in the dark entryway for the light switch. Then, I responded coolly: “I’m not going.” On the other end, my mom’s voice was filled with furious disbelief: “What did you say? Don’t you dare forget your grandmother’s ashes…” I hung up before she could finish. My father’s stepdaughter had just given a piano recital in London last week. That was why my mom was so frantic to get to me. After tidying up, I lay on my bed. Moonlight seeped through the sheer curtains, spilling across the floor. Suddenly, I remembered years ago, someone holding me close, murmuring softly: “Sweet Iris, sweet Iris, you look so unhappy.” “Sweet Iris, sweet Iris, tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you, okay?” That person’s voice and shadow flickered in my mind. In my dreams, it was the year he declared his love for me to the entire world.

Adrian and I got together seven years ago. Other male celebrities, freshly famous, avoided relationships and rumors like the plague. But he, on the very night he won the Best Actor award, at the peak of his career. Held up his trophy on that grand, public stage, and the first words out of his mouth were: “First, I have to thank my girlfriend…” He announced, with passionate devotion: “My sweetheart is an incredibly talented violinist.” His fans screamed protests. Overnight, Adrian lost over a million followers. Yet he remained unrepentant, immediately posting publicly: “If I have to choose, I can give up my career, but I will never give up the one I love.” His agency was furious, practically spitting blood, and completely blacklisted him for over half a year. After being blacklisted, Adrian lost his career, his future. He became the laughingstock of the entire industry. At his lowest point, dazed and disoriented, he got into a car accident. He lay in the hospital for over ten days, weak and frail, calling me. But he never once saw me, not even for a moment. Several months later, his stomach ulcer flared up, sending him back to the hospital. That night, he called me repeatedly. The man who’d always been so wild and carefree, for the first time, pleaded with me like a lost child. He said, “Sweet Iris, I’m in pain. Please come see me.” At the time, I was sitting in my practice room, working on a piece. My fingers, mid-strum on the violin strings, barely paused. I asked, my voice flat, “Is it critical? Is your life in danger?”

The other end of the line fell silent, a long, heavy pause. After a while, he simply said two short words: “No.” I looked out at the deepening night sky, then replied, “Then can I come tomorrow? It’s pretty late now.” Adrian forced the words out, his teeth practically grinding: “Iris Clarke, I was in the ER.” I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me, so I added, “Oh. So you’re out now, right?” After a moment of dead silence, a violent crash erupted, the sound of something being brutally smashed. My hand, resting on my violin, trembled. After the commotion subsided, his voice came through, cold as ice: “I’m out.” “So, you’re still planning to come tomorrow?” I thought about it: “Tomorrow afternoon, maybe. I still have…” He cut me off abruptly, his voice chilling: “Iris Clarke, did you ever love me?” My expression froze in an instant. I heard Adrian’s voice, filled with crushing disappointment: “Why are you always so calm? “Why, when it comes to everything about me, everything about *us*, are you always so collected?” He paused, then let out a soft, mirthless laugh: “No, not calm. It’s cold. You’re cold.” I opened my mouth, but my throat felt choked with cotton. No words came out. Time stretched on, feeling like an eternity. Finally, I heard Adrian calm himself, letting out a sigh: “Iris Clarke, let’s break up.” With a sudden *thump*, my violin slipped from my grasp and hit the floor. I scrambled up, bending to pick it up, only to find my hands shaking uncontrollably. The call duration was still ticking. I picked up the violin, sat back on the sofa. Outside, the night was a suffocating, impenetrable black, as if all light had been swallowed whole. After a long, drawn-out moment, I softly said, “Okay.” On the other end, Adrian laughed, a hollow, bitter sound: “Okay, hahah, okay.” “Iris Clarke, Iris Clarke, what is your heart made of?” After that, Adrian left the country, and we never saw each other again. Two years of a relationship, and we didn’t even have a face-to-face goodbye.

I tossed and turned all night. When I finally woke up late the next day, the first thing I saw on my phone was news of Adrian’s return to the country. The man who had been rumored to be single for five years. This time, unusually, he was with a young woman. The girl wore a mask, so her face wasn’t clear. But I had a strange feeling her eyes looked familiar. For the past five years, the internet had buzzed with rumors. Adrian remained single, they said, because he hadn’t moved on from that mysterious violinist. But now, he’d forgone the airport’s VIP lounge. Instead, he walked through the regular terminal with the girl by his side. Fans at the airport, thrilled by the rare chance to see their idol up close, went wild. Security couldn’t hold them back; the crowd surged toward Adrian multiple times. Adrian instinctively reached out, naturally shielding the girl by pulling her closer to his side. The scene was like a new discovery, screams rising in pitch. Undoubtedly, Adrian’s first new romance in five years would soon explode across the trending topics. I looked at the familiar, long-unseen face in the news, momentarily lost in thought. A sudden, sharp pang shot through my chest, abrupt and without reason. I had thought my connection with Adrian had ended with that last phone call. Someone I hadn’t seen in five years, I never expected to see again. But the very next day, when my teacher called me to the set, there he was.

Having won the International Violin Gold and making my first public appearance, my online presence was currently sky-high. Director Miller, a renowned filmmaker, personally called, inviting me to cameo as a violinist in his new movie. My teacher urged me to take it, saying it was a fantastic opportunity. I didn’t want to go. She tried to persuade me: “Iris, you can’t stay hidden forever. “That whole affair, it was years ago. No one remembers it anymore. “Look, when you revealed your face after winning the gold, no one recognized you, did they?” She had mentored me for over a decade, always considering me her most brilliant student. Naturally, she hoped I would shine. I hesitated all night, but in the end, I went. I just never expected Adrian to be there. When I noticed him, he was lounging in a director’s chair, lazily soaking up the sun. The man once blacklisted by his agency had long since reclaimed his top spot in the entertainment industry. He seemed to sense my gaze. He turned his head, glancing at me. It was a casual, fleeting look, his face devoid of any expression. Instead of seeing him as an ex I hadn’t seen in five years, it felt more like we were complete strangers. But at that moment, what truly captured my attention wasn’t him. It was the girl sitting right next to him—the same one he was with at the airport yesterday. Now, the girl had taken off her mask, and I recognized her face. It was Chloe Clarke, my father’s stepdaughter. I couldn’t even remember how many years it had been since I last saw Chloe. Her face suddenly crashing into my line of sight felt like a needle violently piercing my brain. My stomach lurched, churning violently. The bright sunlight hit me, and I swayed, almost collapsing in front of everyone. In that dizzying moment, I vaguely saw Adrian’s expression change as he looked my way. One hand, casually draped over the armrest of his chair, tightened, as if he were about to spring up.

But just as quickly, his clenched hand relaxed. The intense emotion that had momentarily surged across his face rapidly dissipated, as if nothing had happened. Before I could fall, my teacher, with lightning-fast reflexes, reached out and steadied me. My teacher knew all about my family affairs. She recognized Chloe, and couldn’t help but curse under her breath. Her tone was utterly disgusted: “How did *she* end up here?” I forced myself to stand steady, to calm down. Then I replied, “She must be… with Adrian now.” My teacher quickly put it together: “The one photographed at the airport yesterday, that was her?” I nodded. My teacher’s expression grew even gloomier: “What a coincidence. This Adrian, is he trying to spite you on purpose?” I quietly denied it: “I don’t think so.” Not only had Adrian and I broken up years ago, but he had no reason to waste his time trying to annoy me now. Besides, he had no idea about my family situation, he didn’t know my family. I had a bad feeling that Chloe would stir up trouble for me. Sure enough, that afternoon, while I was practicing violin in the cast lounge. Director Miller came to find me, with Chloe in tow, looking clearly uncomfortable. As they entered, Adrian stood in the doorway of the lounge, watching me with a smirk that wasn’t quite a smile. His expression even held a hint of schadenfreude. Director Miller hesitated, then started: “Um, Iris…” “Ms. Chloe Clarke says she discussed it with you. “She says the scene where you play the violin in the church… you agreed she’d perform it instead? Is that right?” Chloe didn’t even wait for my response, smiling brightly: “Yes, I’ll play the piano instead. “A piano performance in the church would have an even better atmosphere, don’t you think?” I cut her off directly: “She never discussed switching roles with me.” Director Miller’s face immediately turned awkward. From the doorway, Adrian’s voice, laced with coldness, drifted in: “Well, she’s telling you now.”

Chloe’s face was alight with undisguised triumph. Her demeanor was arrogant, yet her voice remained sweet and soft: “Adrian said if the production team isn’t willing to give me even such a small role, “Then he might have to reconsider playing the male lead.” Director Miller instantly struggled to suppress his anger, glaring at Adrian in the doorway. Adrian, however, looked completely unfazed, a faint smile in his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. He was clearly indulging Chloe’s mischief. Director Miller’s face was ashen with rage. After a long moment, he could only manage a furious “This is absurd!” He couldn’t bring himself to tell me to leave, but he was powerless. I picked up my violin, stood, and said flatly, “Just give it to her. I don’t mind.” Chloe’s smile grew even wider, more triumphant. Director Miller stormed off, fuming. I slung my violin case over my shoulder and walked out. As I passed Adrian, I couldn’t help but say, “She’s not right for you.” It wasn’t a critique, but an uncontrollable urge to warn him. I said it and moved to leave. But Adrian suddenly reached out, his palm gripping my arm. When I looked down, I saw the veins bulging on the back of his hand.

Chloe walked over, her face a picture of grievance, calling out softly, “Adrian.” Adrian’s expression became incredibly irritated. He spoke, suppressing his temper: “Go wait outside.” Chloe glared at me hatefully, but she left. It had been years since Adrian and I had been alone, and my palm was already slick with sweat. I couldn’t pull my hand free, so I lifted my gaze, trying to look at him calmly: “I was just giving you some friendly advice. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” Adrian’s face darkened. He yanked my arm, pulling me roughly back into the room. Then he lifted his foot and kicked the door shut with unprecedented force. *Bang!* The door automatically locked. My heart hammered in my chest, and a sudden prickle of fear ran through me. His large hand pressed onto my shoulder. My back was against the door, and I felt his gaze on me, like a knife, seemingly trying to bore a hole straight through me. “She’s not right for me. Then who is? *You*?” “Iris Clarke, what have you meant all these years? Am I just some game to you?!” His grip tightened, relentlessly, on my shoulder. A sharp ache shot through me. I watched the intense resentment and stubborn bitterness surge in his eyes, no longer concealed. I drew a shallow breath. “Adrian, it’s over between us. Please, calm down.” “If what I just said upset you, then I apologize. Pretend I never said it.” The anger on his face deepened, his ragged breaths seeming to carry a hint of hatred. “What’s said is said, what’s done is done. “Iris Clarke, why should I pretend it never happened just because you say so?” I had never seen Adrian so relentless, so insistent. Five years ago, when he gave up on me entirely and broke up, it was just one sentence. I agreed, and then I left. After that, we never spoke. This kind of entanglement, it wasn’t like him at all. A sudden headache began to throb behind my eyes. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Adrian’s hand, still pressing on my shoulder, began to tremble slightly. He stared at me, his gaze piercing: “Five years ago, when I had that car accident, you cried beside me in the pouring rain. Why? “Someone as heartless as you, who doesn’t even need a goodbye to break up, why did *you* cry?” His face was almost distorted with anguish, yet I remained perfectly calm. I watched him, watched his emotions spiral out of control, almost roaring with fury. But my voice remained steady: “Adrian, this isn’t you.” He visibly flinched. Then he finally let go of me, his thin lips even starting to tremble. It was as if something was lodged in his chest, threatening to make him explode. The man started smashing everything he could see, *bang, crash, clatter*, until nothing was left. Finally, still not satisfied, he kicked over the coffee table and chairs. I huddled against the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible. No matter how hard I tried to stay calm, my body couldn’t stop trembling. Many, many years ago, I had faced this exact scene. The bedroom, a wreckage, like the end of the world. Adrian lifted the last stool from the vanity, about to smash it to the ground. He finally turned his head, noticing me huddled in the corner. Our eyes met. My face, at that moment, was probably far from good. His angry, ashen face froze the instant his gaze met mine. The stool in his hand never hit the floor. He looked at me, curled in the corner, his expression strange. He held the stool, motionless, for a long, long time. After an unknown duration, he finally put the stool down, his face dark. He walked past the wreckage, silently heading for the door. I clutched the nearby curtain, my hand shaking violently. But the man at the doorway paused. He didn’t turn around, his voice low and weary: “You should go home. Don’t bother coming to the set anymore.” I slowly sank to the floor, curling into myself, and stayed in that lounge for a very long time.

By the time I left, Adrian and Chloe had already gone. News quickly broke online that Chloe would be replacing me in Director Miller’s new film. As for the reason, Chloe posted on Ins: “A last-minute invitation. Thank you, Director Miller, for your trust.” As soon as that post went up, public opinion quickly turned against me. They said I was throwing my weight around after winning the gold medal, ditching the film crew. That Director Miller had been forced to find Chloe as an emergency replacement. Someone was clearly orchestrating this, and the voices criticizing me grew louder and louder. I recognized one of the most aggressive accounts—it was likely Chloe’s alt account. Chloe had always had it out for me. But on her own, without Adrian’s help, she couldn’t have stirred up such a massive storm. I had never seen Adrian abandon his principles and boundaries to indulge someone like this. The online noise became unbearable. I simply disconnected my phone from the internet, and then, completely turned it off. As evening approached, my mom stormed over. The doorbell rang frantically. When I opened the door, she raised her hand and slapped me across the face. Her face was trembling with rage: “To be made a fool of, like a goddamn monkey, by that hussy’s daughter! How could I have given birth to such a pathetic, spineless waste like you?!” Half my face stung, burning. My head snapped to the side, but I didn’t utter a sound. My mom seemed completely unhinged. She grabbed my face, forcing me to look at her. Indeed, for years now, she had lived like a madwoman. Her tone was filled with scorn: “To have even this small role snatched by that hussy, and your ex-boyfriend too! “You deserve to be tormented by that hussy and her daughter your whole life, to lose your own father…” I looked up sharply, cutting her off with a piercing cry: “Mom, that’s enough!” My mom seemed to snap back to reality herself, a flicker of unnaturalness in her expression. She finally stopped talking. She spat out “Useless!” and slammed the door shut behind her. That night was a torment, haunted by nightmares.

I was twelve years old when my mom took me from my grandmother’s house in the small town. On the day she took me, her voice was laced with a morbid frenzy: “My sweet girl, now you can finally get revenge for Mommy!” “Let those hussies see who the real genius is! “What’s so great about her daughter playing the piano?” After that, I never saw my grandmother again. My mom said that once I won first place in the school violin competition, she’d let me visit Grandma. Later, when I won, she said I had to win first in the city. Until I was nineteen, when I won the national gold medal. But my grandmother had passed away that very morning, the day I won the award. My grandmother had received the news, knowing I would come to see her once I won. So she clung to life, holding her breath until the day of my competition, but ultimately, she didn’t make it to the moment I could see her. Seven years of longing, and in the end, all I could embrace was an urn of ashes. From then on, my emotions seemed to go numb. I didn’t quite know how to love anymore. Nor did I know how to express affection or liking. My mom and I had a huge fight. She cursed me for being ungrateful, sending me off to my father’s house, throwing me into another abyss. That night, my father, reeking of alcohol, burst into my bedroom. He held me, tearing at my clothes. But the name he whispered was Chloe’s. My world completely shattered.

At the last moment, my father was struck on the head by a lamp I grabbed, which barely brought him back to his senses. By the time my mom arrived, I was desperately wrapped in a blanket, almost naked. Chloe and her mother stood in the bedroom, their faces etched with guilt and panic. I never knew such disgusting things could exist in this world. Chloe’s mother, who had been the mistress years ago, slowly grew older. Seeing my father with a new lover, she feared being cast out. She had actually convinced her own daughter to throw herself at him. I sat on the bed for a very long time, violently gagging. My mom smashed everything in the bedroom, cursing Chloe and her mother with the most vicious words. Yet not a single word was directed at my father. Not a single word was in my defense. The room was a disaster zone, a wreck that felt apocalyptic. But in the end, everyone tried to persuade me to make peace and let it go. But I refused. I had a camera in my bedroom, originally intended to record myself practicing violin to send to my teacher. By a twisted stroke of fate, it had captured something vile. I took the video to the police station. But the officer who watched it had a very strange expression. He advised me, “After all, it didn’t go all the way. “A young lady has her reputation to think of. Maybe it’s best to just… let this go.” I didn’t understand. I wasn’t the one who did something wrong, so why should *I* be afraid of losing my reputation? When the police wouldn’t help me, I uploaded the video online and contacted media reporters. The internet exploded. Countless people remembered my nineteen-year-old face. Many sympathized with me, but more, far more, watched as if it were a sick joke. Online public opinion was relentless. My father lost his job and was detained for three months. My mom went mad, her face distorted as she yanked at my hair. She cried and screamed at me: “Aren’t you ashamed?! “Do you even know what shame is, what dignity is?!” I let her scream and hit me, feeling only a profound confusion. It seemed I had not only lost the ability to love, but also began to lose my sense of dignity and shame. All that remained was a chillingly detached logic, guiding me on how to simply *function*. My mom shrieked at me, “Do you have any heart at all?” Just as years later, on the day Adrian and I broke up. He, utterly disappointed, had demanded of me, “Iris Clarke, do you have any heart at all?”

I had no heart. So I was unworthy of loving, and unworthy of being loved. The night terrors tortured me, leaving me aching and exhausted. Due to the online backlash, my teacher asked me to cancel my schedule for the next few days. I spent many days at home in a daze. Washing my face one morning, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My pajama collar was low, revealing a small tattoo beneath my collarbone. A small, unassuming tattoo: a delicate heart intertwined with ‘Adrian’. Whenever I went out, my clothes would meticulously cover it. For all these years, no one but me knew it was there. Just as my heart, burning bright and fervent, had been hidden in the shadows. But it had never once been offered up for anyone to see. I had endured too much suffering; I dared not love again, dared not speak of love. Once, I said I loved my grandmother. Yet I left her alone and waiting for me for seven long years. Later, I loved my mother. I painstakingly sewed her a scarf for New Year’s. What I got in return was a slap across the face and a lecture for wasting my time on meaningless things. Even later, I loved my father. What I got in return was the most vile and unspeakable truth. After Adrian and I broke up, for a long time, I reflected deeply. I realized I *had* loved him. I would break down and cry when he was in a car accident. I would want to share my victories with him, like winning a major award. I would travel for over ten hours straight, rushing to the city where he was on business. I would endure excruciating pain to get his name tattooed, despite being allergic to anesthetics. But I couldn’t express my love with my eyes, couldn’t say the words “I love you.” I slowly extinguished the passionate, fiery heart he had carefully offered me. Many times, he would excitedly tell me he loved me, but all I felt was a bewildering emptiness. I thought, I must not be normal. After Adrian and I broke up, my mentor introduced me to a psychologist, and I went for a few sessions. Only later did I learn that I truly wasn’t normal. The doctor said I had Emotional Detachment Disorder. He said it was a psychological condition. Emotional detachment, a dulled reaction and perception of emotions.

I underwent a long period of therapy. And slowly, I began to feel a sense of shame about having publicly revealed the incident with my father at nineteen. Fortunately, my appearance now differed significantly from when I was nineteen. Plus, so many years had passed, no one would truly recognize me anymore. But I remained restless. It wasn’t until recently, at my teacher’s urging, that I dared to perform on stage without a mask for the first time. After therapy, I gradually began to understand Adrian’s past accusations and disappointment. No one can tolerate pouring out their entire heart for so long, only to receive no response. But I had, in fact, responded. I just didn’t understand it back then. So many things I had quietly done for Adrian, I never mentioned, thinking I didn’t need to. After many days at home, my fridge was empty. I had no choice but to go out and buy groceries. I hadn’t checked my phone in days, so I didn’t know I was being relentlessly cyberbullied online. I had underestimated Chloe’s hatred for me. Using Adrian’s indulgence, she relentlessly twisted and amplified the story of me no longer starring in Director Miller’s film. Then she fabricated countless other stories, wildly slandering and defaming me. She claimed I had questionable character, indecent behavior, and that my awards were undeserved. And my many days of not checking my phone, of not responding, were twisted into an admission of guilt, a fear of showing my face. A massive wave of paid trolls hired by Chloe, combined with a crowd of misled internet users, even began clamoring to ‘dox’ me. They demanded to dig up my past, my family situation, and every experience I’d ever had. I knew nothing of this. I had assumed the online commotion from a few days ago had long since died down. When I went to the mall, I didn’t even wear a mask. But as soon as I entered the mall doors, I felt someone staring at me from behind. Before I could even turn around, Adrian, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, grabbed my arm. By the time I fully processed it, he had already pulled me into a fire escape stairwell. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw a large group of reporters rushing past. Their anxious voices vaguely reached my ears: “She definitely ran this way, how could she disappear?”

I looked, confused and bewildered, at the reporters rushing past. Then I tilted my head, looking at Adrian beside me. Adrian, I suppose, still understood me. So with one glance at my reaction, he knew I was still completely in the dark. He pulled out his phone, flipping through pages of overwhelming news, displaying them before me. Only then did I realize I was being cyberbullied. Adrian put away his phone, staring at me in the dim stairwell. His gaze was almost like a full-blown interrogation. “Iris Clarke, you know full well what you’ll face if I open this door.” I didn’t quite understand. Was he threatening me? But what did I have left that he could possibly threaten me with now? Adrian saw my silence, then gritted his teeth and continued: “So, are you still planning on telling me nothing?” My voice was full of doubt: “What do you want me to say?” Adrian abruptly took a step closer, his body almost touching mine. He spoke in a low, urgent voice: “Tell me why you cried when I had that car accident. “You cried, so why didn’t you tell me?” I looked at him silently. He grew even more impatient: “Iris Clarke, are you still going to play dumb? “Did you, back then, actually care about me, actually love me?” My hands, hanging at my sides, silently clenched into fists. I whispered, “It’s all in the past.” Adrian’s eyes suddenly turned bloodshot. It was as if I had uttered words that deeply provoked him. His voice was almost a snarl, filled with hatred and stubborn resentment: “It’s not in the past! For me, it’s not over, and it never will be!” A throbbing pain started in my head. I looked at him, and suddenly, I felt a pang of sadness too: “What if I did love you? Adrian, it’s long over between us. Can we really start over?” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I saw a flicker of hope light up in the eyes of the man before me. He stared at me intently, his voice trembling: “What if we start over? What’s stopping us?” I looked at Adrian, nearly hysterical in that moment. For an instant, I had the strange illusion of being transported back in time. To when he, heedless of any consequences, publicly declared our relationship on the awards stage. Five years had passed, yet his eyes seemed unchanged. My throat suddenly tightened. Somehow, I found myself asking: “How far have things gone between you and Chloe?”

Adrian was visibly stunned; he probably never expected me to ask that. But he quickly replied, “Every step. “Holding hands, kissing, living together. Every single step.” In my heart, something utterly shattered, crashing to pieces. My mind replayed a specific afternoon. I pushed open a door, only to see my father pinning Chloe against the sofa. An image seared into my memory, never to be forgotten. My stomach lurched, churning violently. For the first time, I felt a wave of disgust toward Adrian. Adrian continued to stare at me intently: “Iris Clarke, are you jealous? “You said Chloe wasn’t right for me before. You love me, you’re just jealous, aren’t you?” As he spoke, he reached out to grab my arm. But I suddenly snapped back to reality, jolted as if by lightning, quickly pulling away from his hand. I even stumbled back a few steps, frantically creating distance between us. Adrian froze, his face confused and bewildered. Having put enough space between us, I looked up at him, my heart now completely devoid of emotion. I spoke, almost enunciating each word: “Adrian, I never loved you. “Not then, not now, not ever.” I watched the light in his eyes, like a falling flame, die out. He even shook his head, looking lost: “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it.” My mind was filled only with the imagined scenes. Scenes of him and Chloe, entangled, intimate. I felt almost suffocated, yet I forced myself to look at him calmly: “Believe it or not. “Whether I loved you or not, didn’t you see it most clearly five years ago?” If he hadn’t believed back then, hadn’t been resentful, that I had never loved him, He wouldn’t be this bitter, this hateful toward me even now. Adrian’s expression was dazed. After a long moment, he seemed to finally regain his composure. Only coldness remained on his face, his voice laced with mockery: “Right. I should have known. I was just a damn fool.” I watched as his eyes reddened. His words, like daggers, pierced my heart. “Iris Clarke, I was such a damn fool for even coming back to ask you.” I closed my eyes, consumed by silence. From outside the fire exit, Chloe’s voice drifted in: “Adrian, are you and Ms. Iris Clarke in there?” Adrian didn’t hesitate for another second. His face was a mask of frost as he directly reached out and opened the door. By the time I remembered the reporters outside and tried to stop him, it was too late. The door swung open, and reporters swarmed in, engulfing me.

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I saw Liam, my cop husband, who had been missing for two years. He didn’t remember me. When he wrapped his arm around his new fiancée and looked at me, his eyes were cold and guarded. I forced a smile, swallowed the bitterness, and said nothing. Because the hypnosis that had caused his amnesia two years ago? I was the one who performed it. Liam burst into my life, completely out of the blue. Tonight, my department at the hospital had a dinner party. I’d had too much to drink. My department’s deputy head got promoted to head, and he was treating us. My colleagues were joking around, saying that the vacant deputy head position would most likely be mine. They kept encouraging me to drink, and after a few rounds, my head felt foggy. I just accepted every drink offered. As I walked out of the restaurant, my steps were unsteady, my colleagues supporting me on either side. My stomach was doing flips when I heard the girl beside me gasp, “Wow, he’s seriously hot.” I tilted my head, following her gaze. And there he was, leaning against a car, smoking. My body froze in an instant. Two years. Over seven hundred days and nights. I never dared to hope that I’d see him again, not on a normal evening like this. To unexpectedly see *him*. He looked the same, yet everything about him felt different. I paused for a brief second, or maybe two. Then I raised my hand, trying to rub my eyes. But I was too drunk; my hand wouldn’t cooperate. The neon lights of the night painted his face. The drifting smoke blurred his sharp, distinct features. Outside the restaurant, the crowd surged, loud and chaotic. But he stood there, silent, as if detached from the entire world. My eyes suddenly welled up. My body reacted before my mind did. In my drunken haze, I pushed my colleagues away and rushed straight towards him. The man leaning against the car was startled by my sudden approach. He quickly turned, shying away from me like I was poison, but I still clung desperately to his waist. “Liam.” The moment his name left my lips, tears streamed down my face. My emotions, fueled by alcohol, were overwhelming. I choked back sobs, rambling incoherently about how much I’d missed him these past two years. Until his hand forcefully pried mine away. My drunken stupor made me stumble, and I fell back onto the wet ground. His eyes held extreme disgust and wariness. Yet, his hand was gentle as he pulled the woman who’d just walked up closer. As if afraid of scaring her, his expression and voice instantly softened. “Sweetheart, I really don’t know her.”

The ground was slick from a recent rain. When I fell, I landed pretty hard. My head was ringing, and the alcohol hitting me hard made me uncontrollably dry- heave. My colleagues scrambled to help me up. Liam glanced at me again, as if I were a wild-haired lunatic. Probably worried I might hurt his new fiancée, he quickly opened the passenger door, shielding the woman as she got in. Before she got into the car, she turned and looked at me. My vision was blurry from the alcohol, but I clearly saw the undisguised hostility in her eyes. My body swayed, and I cried, trying to lunge at Liam again: “You can’t leave! I’ve been looking for you for two years! Please, will you come back with me?” This time, my colleagues held me back. They awkwardly apologized for me: “We’re so sorry, she’s had too much to drink. Our apologies.” His eyes were filled with ice. “If you’re drunk, go home and sleep it off. Don’t cause any more trouble, or I won’t be so polite.” My colleagues half-dragged, half-carried me away. In my peripheral vision, I only saw Liam’s face, filled with utter disgust. Our once-passionate marriage felt like a distant dream. On the way back, I trembled, crying and murmuring to myself, “But he really is my husband.” Liam was the man I had been married to for three years. My colleagues took me home and helped me into bed. When I woke up after sleeping, the bedroom was chillingly, terrifyingly silent. The stark white light from the ceiling fixture shone into my eyes. I stared blankly at the ceiling, recalling what had happened. I even wondered if it had all been a dream. The alcohol hadn’t completely worn off, and my head was pounding. I fumbled for my phone and made a call to confirm. “Captain Miller, has Liam returned to Northwood?”

There was a long silence on the other end before a sigh. “Yes, Alice. “Liam… he’s getting married at the end of the year. “He came to Northwood this time to pick up his fiancée’s parents.” Oh, so he really had come back. But Liam, wasn’t he already married to me? I thought for a moment, then remembered something I’d forgotten. We were divorced. Three years ago, we got married. Two years ago, he came back covered in blood, and we got divorced. So, how could I have forgotten?

Two years ago, Liam had narrowly escaped death from that group of drug traffickers. When he left, it was with his childhood friend, Sam. When he returned, his left hand was missing two fingers, and he carried an urn. That urn didn’t contain Sam’s remains, but a few charred personal items. Sam’s identity had been exposed just as his undercover mission was nearing its end. The drug traffickers had tortured him beyond imagination, slowly dismembered, for two days and a night. And the final blow that took Sam’s life? Liam had delivered it himself. Sam’s shattered remains were thrown into the ocean. The police quickly received a tip-off and wiped out the largest drug trafficking den in the Southern Borderlands. But one person was left there forever. Liam developed severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He would forget and confuse many things. But he would never forget that he had killed someone. The one person who shouldn’t have died. He became increasingly disoriented and out of touch with reality. Many times, due to hallucinations, he almost died in accidents. Later, he tried to end his life several times. Until the third time he ran out of the house, was hit by a car in the middle of the street, and rushed to the emergency room, his life hanging by a thread. I sat outside the ER, waiting all night. At dawn, I finally decided to follow the police and hospital’s advice. To let Liam undergo hypnotic therapy, to forget everything about the past. Everything, including me. We arranged a psychologist for him. But he had been a narcotics officer for so many years; his detective instincts were too sharp. He guessed our intentions and showed extreme resistance to the psychologist. Liam became even more insecure, more irritable. In the dead of night, he would suddenly wake up from a dream. In the dim light, he would look at me with wary, helpless eyes and say: “Alice, do you want me to forget you too? Do you not want me anymore?”

My nose burned with a sudden ache. More than anyone, I didn’t want him to forget me. But I also knew, more than anyone, that for him to continue living, he had to forget all the painful past. In the faint night, I kissed the corner of his lips and said: “I promise you, it’s just therapy. You can forget anything, but you’ll never forget me.” He believed me. We had known each other since birth. Acquaintance, understanding, love, commitment. For over twenty years, I had never once lied to him. There was no one else in this world he trusted so completely. So, he obediently followed me into my therapy room. When I asked him to sign a thick stack of papers, he didn’t even glance at them. He didn’t notice the divorce papers tucked inside. I asked him to lie down on the couch in the therapy room, and he said it still carried my scent. He obediently cooperated as I hypnotized him, and then, with my deceit, he forgot everything.

I was sleepless all night. The next day, I returned to the hospital for work, my face showing my exhaustion. I didn’t expect that my first patient would be Liam. He was clearly in a bad mood, and when he entered, he didn’t seem to recognize me. He sat down and stated his situation in a deep voice. “Two years ago, I had an illness, lost my memory, and forgot everything before that. “I want to recover my memory through therapy.” My hand trembled, and the mouse dropped to the floor. In three years, I had never been so flustered. Liam looked at me, a suspicious expression on his face. He still hadn’t recognized me. I fumbled to pick up the mouse, and when I spoke, I realized I’d said the wrong thing. “You… you can try hypnotic therapy to recover.” Even if I didn’t take him, he would still go to another doctor. After a routine inquiry, I led him into the hypnosis room. Liam lay down on the couch, and under my guidance, slowly entered a hypnotic state. I watched his peaceful sleeping face. His brows and eyes, the mole at the corner of his eye, the scar near the ear bone on his profile. Every single detail had long been etched into my heart. It had been too long, far too long, since I’d been able to truly look at him. That face, like a devil’s snare, slowly awakened the deepest, darkest desires within me. The moment I spoke, I committed a cardinal sin for any psychologist. “Mr. Miller, how did you and your fiancée come to be together?” The hypnotized Liam was unusually cooperative. “She’s my fiancée. Six months ago, I fell for her at first sight. “The moment I saw her, I felt she was the one I’d been searching for.” I thought of his fiancée’s face, and suddenly my breath caught in my throat. That face bore a striking seven-tenths resemblance to mine. So I couldn’t help but ask more questions I shouldn’t have. As for what happened two years ago, I didn’t mention a word. Because I had no intention of helping Liam recover his memory. After the hypnotic session, Liam was asleep. I looked at him, finally daring to softly reveal the dark secret of my heart: “What am I going to do? I still love you so much.” He slept soundly, unable to hear my words. His left hand lay by his side, the missing two fingers a jarring sight. I sat by the bed, watching, and couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the area where his fingers were gone. My eyes burned with a sudden, uncontrollable ache. I softly murmured, “It must have hurt terribly.” My outstretched hand was suddenly grabbed by his.

Liam’s eyes snapped open. The first look the man gave me seemed to hold bewilderment and urgency. He stared at me, his gaze intense, across the close distance between us. Then, even he seemed to freeze for a moment. For an instant, I even had a fleeting thought that he might have remembered something. But quickly, the strange emotion in his eyes vanished, replaced by anger and disgust. He spoke, his words like the sharpest knife: “I knew you looked familiar. You’re the one who caused that drunken scene last night, aren’t you?” I suddenly felt an overwhelming panic. Like some dirty, shameful secret had been caught red-handed. I fumbled to push him away, but he gripped my wrist tightly. My explanation was weak and pathetic: “I… I just saw you hadn’t woken up for a long time, and I wanted to wake you.” I desperately hoped he hadn’t heard those last few words I’d spoken. Liam held my wrist with one hand and reached for his phone with the other. He clearly had no intention of letting me off the hook. He opened something on his phone. He looked at me like I was a criminal. That scrutinizing gaze, heavy with intense pressure, made my limbs feel numb and cold. “Coincidentally, before you started your hypnotic therapy on me, I accidentally started a recording on my phone. “Since that’s your explanation, listening to this recording shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

My face slowly drained of all color. Liam didn’t ask for my permission again and directly played the recording. All my questions and interactions with him in it clearly weren’t aimed at helping him recover his memory. Instead, under the guise of therapy, I was prying into his life and privacy over the past two years. His eyes, like dark, bottomless pits, were daggers cutting into my face. The words that came out were utterly devoid of warmth: “Is this how Dr. Hayes abuses her professional position to casually flirt with men?” I felt utterly mortified, my clenched nails digging into my palm. I was so numb I couldn’t feel the pain, only the sticky warmth of blood. We remained locked in this stalemate, so much so that neither of us heard the knock on the door outside. The recording continued to play, and as it neared its end, Chloe, Liam’s fiancée, burst in. She pushed open the inner door, speaking with some unease: “Sorry, I just came by, hope I’m not interrupting your session…” Her voice abruptly cut off, and she sharply glanced at Liam’s phone. From the phone, my voice continued to play. “What am I going to do? I still love you so much.” “It must have hurt terribly…” Chloe stared at the phone in disbelief. Soon, her face darkened, and she strode over in her heels, taking Liam’s phone. She trembled as she checked the recording, fast-forwarding quickly from the beginning to the end. She then finally confirmed that, during the hypnosis session, I had abused my position as a doctor. I had pried into her fiancé’s privacy. And then, at the very end, I had shamelessly uttered those extremely flirtatious words to her fiancé. There was no video with the recording, but a woman’s imagination, well, it knows no bounds. Undoubtedly, she had already pictured the look in my eyes and my gestures towards her fiancé as I spoke those words. Her elegant and gentle face twisted into a furious snarl. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “So it was you! A psychologist, my foot! Ugh, disgusting! “I saw through you last night! You’re absolutely disgusting!”

The commotion in the therapy room quickly drew in the doctors and nurses outside. At first, a group of confused medical staff tried to mediate. Until Chloe, enraged, played the last segment of the recording, turning the volume to max. My voice, speaking those few suggestive words, clearly reached everyone’s ears. I felt like I was nailed to a pillory of shame, and not a single person came to my defense. More than a dozen scrutinizing, strange, shocked, and contemptuous gazes slowly settled on me. Liam sat to the side, watching with cold indifference. After Chloe had vented enough of her anger, having said the most awful things she could, He then coolly added, “Call the police, and get the director down here.” I stood frozen like a puppet, unable to utter another word. Never before had I realized so clearly that day. Liam and I, we were truly over. He had completely forgotten me. And so, all the tenderness, tolerance, and compassion would no longer belong to me. Dr. Hayes tried to mediate: “Mr. Miller, I’m truly sorry. “Alice certainly acted improperly. I’ll have her apologize to you properly and offer some compensation. How does that sound?” He knew about my past relationship with Liam, so he probably felt some pity for me. Liam looked at him with cold eyes, like an emotionless judge pronouncing a verdict: “I demand you call the police and have the director fire her.”

I looked at the man before me with a sense of bewilderment. Somehow, I was reminded of many years ago, when I first started as a psychologist. I had taken on a male patient who harassed me, but then he turned around and accused me of seducing him. Back then, Liam gathered all the evidence for me. And when that male patient’s family came to plead for him, Liam had said something similar: “I demand you call the police. I will not let this matter rest.” It turned out that the man who once stood between me and danger, the love of my life. Could one day be the one to plunge a sharp knife into my heart. He had forgotten me. So I couldn’t even utter words of blame, or anger. Once Liam made his stance clear, Chloe became even more agitated: “Didn’t you hear that recording?! “If I hadn’t burst in, who knows what else she would have done! “And she’s treated so many male patients before, there aren’t even any cameras in this consultation room. “Oh, it might not even be just male patients, she could be into both, who knows…” Her words grew increasingly offensive. Dr. Hayes’s face darkened, and he said, “Madam, please watch your language!” Chloe directly grabbed a glass hourglass from the bedside table and, with a loud *smash*, threw it at my head. “Watch my language? You’re all in this together, aren’t you? I’m not wasting any more words on you! “Call the director and the police, or I’ll go out right now and let everyone judge this for themselves!”

The hourglass shattered on the floor, glass shards scattering everywhere. Tiny pink sand spilled across the floor. My head buzzed with a sharp ringing sound, and a warm liquid quickly ran down my forehead into my eyes. Through my blurred vision, I thought I saw Liam glance at me. But when I raised my hand to wipe my face and looked at him again, his gaze was no longer on me. Dr. Hayes’s face was extremely grim, and he tried to defend me. But I knew Liam too well. His current attitude meant he absolutely wouldn’t back down. With the evidence right here, my abuse of professional position for ulterior motives, my ethical decay. I couldn’t escape responsibility, nor did I want to implicate anyone else. I voluntarily contacted the director and called the police, explaining everything as if surrendering. Within half an hour, the director and police arrived. Captain Miller from the police department came along too. As soon as Captain Miller saw me, surrounded like a criminal, he let out a soft sigh. I lowered my eyelids, unable to say a single word. Captain Miller stepped forward, took Liam’s phone, and listened to the only piece of evidence. He then looked at Liam, trying to communicate with him in a low voice. But Liam’s attitude was exceptionally firm. He refused to make any concessions. His demand, from beginning to end, was for me to be expelled from the hospital. Otherwise, he would make the recording public, making me infamous nationwide. A female psychologist seducing a male patient through hypnosis—what a sensational topic. I chose the former, to resign from the hospital. Because the latter would also mean suspension. And potentially exposing Liam’s identity if it went viral online. He had once been a narcotics officer; exposing him would do no good. That afternoon, I packed my things. Like a stray, I left the hospital. When I stepped out of the elevator into the underground parking garage, several eggs flew at me.

I couldn’t dodge in time, and the eggs splattered all over my white lab coat. Some of the moldy egg liquid stuck to me, a sticky mess. A foul, fishy smell quickly spread around my nostrils. Facing me were two women with unpleasant expressions. One was Chloe, and the other was an older woman who resembled her somewhat. The middle-aged woman pointed at me, furiously cursing: “Liam is my daughter’s fiancé. “Their relationship is wonderful, and they’re getting married soon! “You shameless hussy, get lost and die somewhere far away!” I suddenly felt a surge of irrationality, wanting to blurt something out. But then I saw a car window roll down not far away. The man in the driver’s seat revealed half of his strikingly handsome profile. It was Liam. I saw him clearly. After so many years of knowing and loving him, even just his silhouette, I would never mistake it. He met my gaze. Still that cold, indifferent expression, taking in my utterly pathetic state. I actually don’t like being too humiliated. So I tugged at the corner of my mouth, trying to force a look of nonchalant indifference. But in the end, I couldn’t manage a smile, and nearly burst into tears instead. He cherished and indulged Chloe so deeply. So even now, if Chloe were to stab a knife into my heart, he probably wouldn’t even flinch. My Liam, he once cherished and indulged me in the same way.

In the end, I said nothing. Just seeing that face, it was as if all my strength suddenly drained away. I got directly into my car. It wasn’t until the car door closed that the women’s yelling was finally cut off. I drove home, carrying boxes of belongings inside. I originally couldn’t bear to part with my white lab coat, wanting to keep it as a memento. But now, it was ruined beyond recognition. I hesitated for a moment, then took it off, stuffed it into a trash bag, and took it outside. Lucky was surprised to see me home so early. It came trotting over, panting, licking my pant leg. I patted its head and refilled its food bowl. Lucky was a dog Liam and I found on the street a few years ago. I remember I asked Liam to name it back then. He clearly had no talent for naming things and after thinking for ages, he finally blurted out: “How about Lucky? Sounds exactly like a dog’s name, doesn’t it?” I giggled, and we settled on the name. Watching Lucky eat its kibble, I suddenly felt a little like crying. These past two years, ever since Liam left, I had grown used to being always on the go. Leaving before seven in the morning, and not getting back until late at night. It was as if as long as I was busy enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about things I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t feel sad, wouldn’t miss him. But now, I was forced into idleness. I went into the kitchen, put some water in a pot, and prepared to boil noodles. Then I poured a glass of water and went out to sit on the couch. It turns out, people really can’t be idle. I took a bored sip of water and looked at the pristine white wall. And then I remembered that once, a large red ‘囍’ character had hung there. The nearly two-meter-wide symbol of double happiness was painstakingly cut out by Liam himself, after almost half a month of sleepless nights. Back then, he was still stationed at the Northwood Police Department. We didn’t have to endure the agony of separation, and I didn’t need to live in constant fear. Fear of something happening to him, fear of him dying in a foreign land. Back then, our future was nothing but smooth sailing. Just like Sam used to tease, a little enviously, “You guys are killing us single folks with all that PDA.” See, I thought of Sam again. I remembered that day when he and Liam left, my eyes red and swollen as I saw them off. Sam had patted his chest then, confidently promising: “Don’t worry, Alice, as long as I have breath in my body, I’ll bring your man back!” Sam never came back. My Liam, it seems, never came back either.

I sniffled, wiping away my tears. I lay down on the couch and covered my face with a pillow. If I didn’t see, didn’t think, I wouldn’t be sad. If I didn’t remember, didn’t look back, things would eventually pass. I lay there for a while and soon fell asleep. In my hazy sleep, Lucky seemed to be whining in my ear. It seemed to be urgently licking the back of my hand. I wanted to open my eyes, but I felt incredibly sleepy. Faint knocking sounds from outside the door. I couldn’t tell if it was reality or a dream. In the air, a strange smell seemed to begin to permeate. Until much later, the world suddenly became quiet again. All the chaotic sounds in my ears vanished. In my hazy state, I half-opened my eyes and thought I saw Liam sitting beside me. His eyes were so gentle and moving, just like when he still loved me. But I only caught a glimpse before his broad palm covered my eyes. Everything vanished from my sight, and only his low, tender voice remained in my ears: “Shhh, go back to sleep.” I knew it was just a dream. My Liam, he would never come to see me like this again. I seemed to have slept for a very long time. My body was alternately hot and cold, like I had a high fever. In a daze, I seemed to have taken medicine, and a soft, cool towel was placed on my forehead. The fluctuating heat and cold slowly receded, and a wave of exhaustion swept over me. When I woke again, it was probably past midnight. Silence all around. I opened my eyes and actually saw Liam’s back.

The man stood by the wide-open window at the end of the living room. He must have been smoking. At his feet, Lucky had transformed into a fawning dog, its tail wagging like a propeller. It clearly wanted to express its joy at a long-awaited reunion. But Liam didn’t understand, only taking it for a silly dog. I felt like I hadn’t truly woken up. As I considered closing my eyes again, the man by the window turned around. Our eyes met, and my heart felt like it had been violently struck by a heavy object. The scene was so familiar that I even started to fantasize that he and I were still ‘us’. Until Liam’s clearly distant voice broke the silence: “You’re awake.” My consciousness slowly returned, and I began to confirm this wasn’t a hallucination. I practically sprang from the couch, staring at him in disbelief: “You… how did you get here? How did you get in?” Liam explained calmly: “I needed to talk to you. I asked Captain Miller for your address.” I started to wonder if I was losing my mind, or if he was. “But how did you get inside?” Liam extinguished the cigarette he was holding, then walked over and sat on the couch opposite me. “When I arrived, the building manager was just muttering angrily as he left your place. “He said you’d left the gas on, and you and the dog almost died in there. He even gave me a strange lecture.” It was then that I suddenly remembered I had been boiling water for noodles in the kitchen before I fell asleep. It must have been a gas leak, the smell spreading out, which is why the building manager came in. The building manager probably still recognized Liam, so letting him in and even lecturing him made sense. I tried hard to control my heart, which was pounding like a drum, and asked him, “What do you need to talk about?”

Lucky started to rub against Liam again. Liam pushed it away disdainfully, but it quickly stuck to him once more. I stifled the ache in my heart and explained, “I’m sorry, he’s very friendly, affectionate with everyone. “Once, I took him out, and he wagged his tail and almost ran off with someone…” Realizing I was explaining too much and sounding defensive, I shut my mouth. Liam wasn’t interested in Lucky, nor was he interested in talking about it. He got straight to the point: “Alice, my fiancée is very bothered by your harassment these past two days. “She insists I have an affair with you and is now threatening to break up with me unless you agree to move abroad.” He said this completely unfazed. I chewed on his words, and a sting of pain pierced my heart: “Mr. Miller, I thought we had an agreement. “I resigned, and you said we would drop it there.” Liam’s attitude was stubborn and unreasonable. “I just want my fiancée to be happy. You don’t have a job here anyway, you can find a new one abroad.” His words were infuriating, and I couldn’t help but frown. Liam, however, seemed to think I was trying to negotiate. He looked rather disdainful: “Name your price, and I’ll give you a sum of money. But you can’t come back for at least a year.” I looked up at him, suddenly feeling very distant. His expression was aggressive, his tone self-righteous. He said we’d drop it if I resigned, but now he was going back on his word, and he clearly didn’t see anything wrong with it. Liam grew even more impatient with my hesitation: “I truly value my relationship with my fiancée. “I don’t want to discuss this with you further. Just name your price, then go abroad.” I didn’t know how he’d fared these past two years, how much money he’d made. But his posture at this moment was exactly like a rich, unreasonable tycoon. He directly tossed a bank card onto the table in front of me. “Fifty thousand. Is that enough?”

I stared at his face. After a long moment, I still smiled and took the card. “Of course, that’s enough! It’s several years’ worth of my salary.” Staying in Northwood to watch him marry his fiancée and start a family really didn’t hold much appeal. Seeing the lingering suspicion on his face, I added, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave tomorrow morning.” Liam’s expression finally softened a little. He didn’t forget to take out a prepared pen and paper and had me sign an agreement. Then he stood up and said, “I hope you keep your word.” He walked towards the door. Lucky shot after him, biting his pant leg and whimpering. Liam walked out the door, but Lucky still wouldn’t let go. His face showed an extremely impatient expression. I barely recognized the man he was now. I even thought he was about to harshly kick Lucky. So I hurried after him, forcefully pulling Lucky away. After ushering it back inside, I slammed the door shut. The door closed, and only then did I realize. The dog couldn’t get out, but I couldn’t get back in either. My eyes were red, and I awkwardly said, “I’ll go downstairs and ask the building manager for the key.” Liam ignored me. He walked ahead, and I followed behind, both of us entering the elevator. I looked at our shadows on the floor, and couldn’t help but secretly reach out, touching the shadow of his arm. Inside the elevator, Liam pressed the basement floor, and I pressed the first floor. The elevator doors opened on the first floor. I thought I saw a shadow flash by outside. But there were many people living in the complex, so coming and going wasn’t unusual. So I didn’t think much of it and walked straight out. But Liam followed. I turned, looking at him with some confusion. Liam looked down at me, observing for a long time, so long that I started to feel uneasy. Then he finally spoke, his voice low and pleasant: “Alice. Alice Hayes.” He paused slightly, then continued, “I know, we’ve met before, a long time ago.”

My mind exploded. I stared at him, my eyes almost bulging: “You remember?” A sudden surge of joy washed over me, but looking at his expression, I was suddenly doused with a bucket of cold water. If Liam truly remembered, how could he be so calm? The man’s face was utterly devoid of emotion, looking at my strong reaction as if I were a clown. He slowly explained: “Captain Miller told me. “He said that you and I knew each other since childhood, and even got married three years ago. But two years ago, we divorced.” He paused again: “But, so what?” So what? Our twenty years of history, everything. He dismissed it with a few casual words and a “so what?” I felt dizzy. I pulled at the corners of my mouth, trying to maintain some dignity. Yes, so what? So what? He didn’t care, and I didn’t have to care that much either. But when I smiled, it was probably uglier than crying. Liam must have noticed my concern, and his expression showed disgust and annoyance. As if I were some stubborn, unwanted stain. He made no attempt to hide his disdain: “When an ex-husband has a fiancée, the ex-wife shouldn’t keep clinging. “We’re divorced. I have no interest in our past together.” I felt like my body was on a torture rack, being slowly dismembered. “I have no interest in our past together.” “No interest…” “No interest…” I looked at him, feeling that the person before me was just a blur. He no longer seemed like Liam, even that face seemed to have become unfamiliar. The voice of the person before me continued: “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to recover my old memories anymore. “Now I only love my fiancée, and I hope you, Alice, understand and keep your word to leave soon.” I finally couldn’t listen anymore. Before he could finish, I interrupted him: “Okay, I get it.” I walked past him and headed for the building management office. One more second, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to control myself. The last shred of my pitiful dignity made me unwilling for him to see my breakdown. Because I knew that by now, he would only see it as a joke. Everything about me was just a joke. Despicable, pathetic, disgusting and repulsive. I practically fled to the building manager’s office, terrified of hearing another word from behind me. After getting the spare key, I stood in the shadows of the complex for a long time. Only when I was sure Liam had left did I slowly walk to the elevator and go back to my apartment. Lucky was still inside, frantically scratching at the door. The moment I opened it, it shot out, heading straight for the elevator.

Over the years, the pitiful little puppy had grown quite large. When it burst out, I almost got knocked over. I saw it run to the elevator, desperately scratching at the elevator door with its paws. When I walked over and hugged it, it looked at me, whimpering softly. This careless, silly dog, it turns out, could also have watery eyes. It looked anxious and helpless, biting my pant leg. It wanted me to open the elevator door, to chase Liam back. I stroked its head, my voice catching in a sob: “I’m sorry, he doesn’t remember us. I can’t keep him anymore.” Lucky seemed to understand. It leaned against me, placing its paw in my hand. As if it was sad, and also as if it was comforting me. The sound-activated light in the hallway went out. We, one person and one dog, huddled in the darkness, sharing our misery. After a long while, I finally stood up, taking Lucky back to my room. My phone suddenly rang late at night, and I answered. Captain Miller’s voice came through: “Alice, I found you a job. “At a Chinese hospital in London. I sent you the details, you might want to consider it.” Every time he contacted me over these past two years, his words always carried an undertone of guilt. Probably because, three years ago, he had recommended Liam and Sam to become narcotics officers. Three years ago, the day before Liam and my wedding. The officiant for our wedding was the director of the orphanage where we grew up. The director, a man in his sixties, was both excited and nervous about officiating a wedding for the first time. The day before the wedding, he rehearsed over and over again on the altar of the already set-up wedding venue. His excited, booming voice resonated from the stage: “Next, let our groom deeply kiss our bride!” Liam and I sat in the audience, laughing heartily at his antics. Liam extended his arm, pulling me close to him: “Alice, the mood is just right. Let’s practice too…” He leaned in, about to kiss me. A gunshot rang out at that very moment. When I looked at the stage again. The director, once energetic and in a sharp suit, was now lying on the ground. Blood gushed from his chest like a fountain.

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Rowan loved my Imperial Brother. But the year he fell from grace, I forced him to become my kept man, humiliating him beyond measure. Years later, he raised an army and marched against the crown. The day his cavalry thundered through the Royal City, my father, the Emperor, groveled and offered my Imperial Sister to him. Yet, Declan simply smiled, his gaze shifting to me. “What, is Rowan too afraid to face me?” Everyone said the first thing Declan would do after seizing power was to offer a thousand pieces of gold for my head. But he didn’t know. I was already dead. *** The day Declan’s cavalry shattered the gates of the Royal City, my father, desperate to save his own skin, pushed my Imperial Sister forward. He chuckled, fawning, “General Declan… no, my new Emperor. You always favored Seraphina.” “Now, for the sake of Seraphina and the throne, spare my life?” Seraphina quietly lowered her head, revealing a delicate stretch of white neck, appearing so frail it stirred pity in anyone who saw her. Declan didn’t respond, the sharp blade of his sword still dripping with blood. But I knew he would agree. He had always loved my Imperial Sister. In this vast Royal City, he was cold and distant to everyone, yet for her, he held a special warmth. It was true then, and it was true now. Declan smiled, his eyes holding a casual indifference. “Where is Rowan?” “What, is she too afraid to face me?” I flinched slightly. I never imagined he would ask about me. Everyone in the Royal City knew he loved my Imperial Sister; he’d poured all his tenderness into Seraphina. A perfect match, a love destined by fate. They were meant to be a beautiful story, yet I, in his year of disgrace, had forced him to become my kept man. I had ruined everything. Now that he had seized power, with his beloved by his side, why would he care about my fate? Declan’s eyes twinkled with a chilling amusement as he continued, “Years ago, when the Declan family was framed and their estates seized, the Ninth Princess forced me to be her personal attendant.” “Kneeling in the snow, constant beatings and verbal abuse—none of it was new.” He looked at my father, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Tell me, Your Majesty, shouldn’t the Ninth Princess now kneel in the snow for several nights, to taste the flavor of numbness from the cold?” I instinctively curled my fingers into my palms, a bitter ache in my heart that I couldn’t articulate. So, Declan had asked about me only to… take his revenge. My father, however, breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze darted away, he stammered, “So, the General hates Rowan. But Rowan, she…” His words were cut short. Seraphina snatched a guard’s sword, plunging it through my father’s chest. Blood splattered onto the floor. She dropped the bloodied sword, her hands trembling, watching my father’s eyes widen in disbelief as he gurgled blood and collapsed. Then, she slowly knelt before Declan. She sobbed, timidly raising her head, and quickly clutched at Declan’s robe. “My father, the Emperor, was obsessed with alchemy and disregarded his people. He long ago lost their hearts.” “Seraphina is willing… to sacrifice her family for the greater good. I only ask to remain by the General’s side, even as a common maidservant, to attend to your needs.” “As for my Imperial Sister,” her eyes flickered, she bit her lower lip, omitting the truth, “she already fled with her consort before the General entered the Royal City.” The air hung heavy for a few moments. Declan smiled faintly, then finally raised his hand to help Seraphina to her feet. He tried to force a smile, but it wouldn’t come. His face was blank, cold. “Is that so?” “In that case, issue a command: whoever finds the Ninth Princess shall be promoted, ennobled, and rewarded with a thousand pieces of gold.” He wanted to catch me. For revenge? To vent his anger? But me, I was already long dead.

I suddenly remembered that year. The Declan family was unjustly imprisoned, the men condemned to execution, the women exiled. I begged everyone in the court, but they all shunned the Declan family. Even Seraphina merely watched me, smiling indifferently, when she heard the news. “The Declan family is a lost cause now. What reason is there for a princess like me to save them?” I silently dug my nails into my palms, saying nothing. When the Declan family held power, she flaunted Declan’s affection. Everyone in the Royal City knew of their mutual love, a match seemingly perfect, needing only a marriage contract. Overnight, they became outcasts. How utterly ironic. Later, I knelt before my father, the Emperor, for an entire night, begging him to grant Declan to me. I feigned stubbornness, my tone spoiled, “Declan always hated me. He threw away my sachet, mocked my handwriting, and shamed me in front of all the ladies of the city.” I scoffed, “Now the Declan family has betrayed the crown, a crime deserving of death. Wouldn’t forcing him to be my personal attendant be an even greater humiliation for the Declan name?” “Besides, keeping him alive would only showcase Your Majesty’s benevolence to the world.” I pouted, charmingly pleading with my father, “I grew up without a mother, Father. You are the only one I can rely on. Please, grant your humble daughter this wish.” But in truth, I was not my father’s most beloved daughter. Before he ascended the throne, my mother had been his favorite concubine. But monarchs are inherently suspicious, tolerating no powerful in-laws. Because he feared my grandfather’s military command, my mother lived on thin ice in the palace. A framed poisoning incident led to her demotion, and she lost all favor. As the daughter of a disgraced concubine, I was neglected and unloved from childhood. The Declan family had been loyal for generations. Perhaps my father worried that their ruin would stir public unrest, or perhaps he recalled the faint affection he once held for my mother when he was merely a prince. He granted my request. When I brought Declan out of the royal dungeons, he was burning with fever, his body covered in raw wounds from various tortures. Madame Declan wept, kneeling in the cell, sobbing her gratitude for saving him. I merely gave a cold, mocking laugh. “Save him? He should thank his good looks; only then is he worthy of being my attendant.” It was only then that they realized under what circumstances Declan would be leaving the dungeons. General Declan glared, his eyes fierce enough to tear me apart. He roared, “Declan, if you have any of the Declan family’s honor left, walk the path to death with dignity! Do not cling to life as another’s plaything!” At the time, I didn’t understand what was wrong with clinging to life. Some people use all their strength just to survive. The first thing I did after bringing Declan back to my princess’s residence was to make him kneel in the bitter winter snow, dressed only in thin clothes. I threw writing implements before him, looking down on him. “Mr. Declan was once the most brilliant scholar in the Royal City, his exquisite handwriting renowned throughout the capital. Even my father, the Emperor, praised his powerful strokes and vibrant spirit.” Declan had once publicly shamed me. It was my father’s birthday that year, and I had just been brought out of the neglected wing of the palace. Seraphina suggested a competition of artistic prowess, but then pushed me forward for the calligraphy part. Everyone was curious about me, a princess who had grown up in the cold palace. Someone then asked Declan what he thought of my handwriting. Declan briefly looked up, stating coldly, “Unrefined, hardly fit for public display.” For a long time after that, the noble ladies of the city treated me as a joke. Now, I acted the part of a spoiled, resentful princess, making Declan kneel in the snow and write until his calligraphy satisfied me. He knelt in the snow all night. No matter what he wrote, I found countless flaws. It wasn’t until he collapsed from a raging fever that my servants carried him to a side room. I deliberately tormented and humiliated him. I had to. From the moment I brought him out of the dungeon, my every move was watched by my father’s spies. Only by constantly humiliating him would my father believe I truly held a grudge, quell his suspicions, and genuinely spare Declan’s life. I dared not summon a doctor, nor could I show any outward concern for Declan. Instead, I feigned a cold and had a trusted maid secretly find medicine and give it to him. Under my constant torment, Declan resigned himself to being my kept man. Did he hate me? I didn’t know. But, most likely, yes.

My soul was trapped near Declan. Everyone assumed that after Declan overthrew the former dynasty, he would crown himself Emperor. But he didn’t. He enthroned Arthur, the young son of Prince Yorick. The chubby little boy’s eyes lit up when he saw Declan return to the royal villa. “Brother Declan, have you seen my Ninth Sister?” Arthur was the last bloodline of Prince Yorick. That year, when Prince Yorick was executed for conspiring with the Declan family, his wife hid Arthur among the dead, smuggling him out during the chaos. The seven or eight-year-old boy was forced to live under an assumed name, barely surviving. Three years ago, when I first arrived at my fiefdom, Willowbrook, I found this child who looked somewhat like me. He was emaciated, covered in dirt, struggling to breathe in a puddle of rainwater. Like a dying kitten. Declan paused, his voice cool. “No.” No sooner had he spoken than Seraphina gracefully walked in. Since the throne remained with the royal family, Seraphina’s princess title was still secure. Now a Grand Princess, she adopted an air of authority, asking softly, “Why does His Majesty seek that criminal? She long ago left the Royal City and fled with her consort.” “If it’s important, Your Majesty could tell your Imperial Sister.” The moment he saw Seraphina, the little boy became visibly upset. He scowled, angrily retorting, “That’s a lie. We deliberately took a detour through Willowbrook, and Ninth Sister wasn’t there at all.” “Now that she’s not in the Royal City, where else could she be?” As if to completely distance himself from Seraphina, Arthur quickly added, “And, my Ninth Sister is not a criminal! You’re not my Imperial Sister, stop trying to be familiar with me.” In an instant, Seraphina’s eyes welled up. The delicate beauty’s pretty eyes brimmed with tears, making anyone pity her. She looked at Declan, as if terribly wronged. “Does the General not believe my words either?” Declan remained silent. After a long moment, he said in a flat tone, “The Ninth Princess did indeed flee.” “Your Majesty has just ascended the throne, and matters are complex. For now, please rest assured and stay in the palace. Tomorrow, I will arrange for Grand Tutor Montague to instruct Your Majesty on proper decorum.” Declan’s words confirmed my status as a criminal. He continued, “The Grand Princess is indeed Your Majesty’s Imperial Sister. As a role model for the kingdom, Your Majesty should respect proper etiquette and address her as Imperial Sister.” Arthur’s eyes widened instantly, as if he had heard something unbelievable. He unconsciously stepped back, biting his teeth, glaring fiercely at Declan through tear-filled eyes. “I trusted you so much… If it weren’t to find Ninth Sister, who would want to come to the Royal City and be this lousy Emperor?” Arthur believed that by following Declan to the Royal City, he would find me. He saw Declan as a brother, still thinking Declan would, as before, silently stand by him no matter what. But he had run into Seraphina. She was the woman Declan loved most. No one could ever make her feel wronged in front of him. Towards Seraphina, he was always indulgent. Arthur, furious, stormed out, followed by a flurry of eunuchs and palace maids, causing a commotion. All the attendants in the hall withdrew. Seraphina walked to Declan’s side, speaking in a gentle, deferential tone,

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Before dropping me off at school, my aunt Brenda brought my cousin Brad to our house, their arrogance practically radiating. “What’s the point of a girl going to school anyway? You might as well marry her off to my family. We’ll give you a full twenty thousand dollars for the bride price.” Everyone tried to convince my mom to marry me off, but she insisted on sending me to school. I was gone for five years, and my mom endured five years of mockery. They’d say it would all benefit some other family in the end, that after five years, she still hadn’t turned into a golden phoenix. Until I came to take my mom away. During the holidays, I drove her back in a luxury car. My mom, decked out in designer clothes and a pigeon-egg diamond ring, was absolutely beaming. “Isn’t this diamond ring dazzling? My daughter bought it for me! Surely no one else’s daughter bought them a massive diamond ring like this, right? *Right*?” My mom’s name was Elara. It was pretty obvious she was the child her parents never really cared for from the start. When my mom was little, she was beautiful, sweet, and well-behaved. A couple, both teachers in the city, wanted to adopt a daughter. My grandparents were initially planning to give my mom away, hoping to get a good price for her. But my mom was smart even as a child. On the day she was supposed to be sent away, she cried and fussed endlessly. The couple couldn’t calm her down, got annoyed, and brought her back. My grandparents grit their teeth and returned a duck and twenty dollars they’d received. “You worthless drain! You don’t have a fortunate bone in your body!” Grandpa was furious, gnashing his teeth. My mom later told me that Grandpa had even considered suffocating her that day. But Grandma got pregnant again. Grandpa said, “Don’t give her away yet. She can help take care of Dustin.” Yes, Dustin. My uncle wasn’t even born yet, but my grandparents had already asked the most educated person in the village to pick out his name. They placed all their hopes on this unborn boy. That’s how my mom survived. But unfortunately, Grandma’s second child was also a girl. After a lot of trouble, my other two aunts were given away by my grandparents. Finally, four years later, Grandma gave birth to my uncle. And my mom, at a very young age, took on the entire family’s burden. Her primary task was to take good care of my uncle. Not only that, she had to work the fields, helping my grandparents lighten their load. She also had to help my grandparents with their homemade fried pastries business. Because of all this, my mom didn’t even finish elementary school before she came home to work the farm. Later, the pastry business didn’t work out, so my grandparents opened a small general store in their house. My mom still just helped out at home. She hadn’t had an education; the most advanced math she knew was making change at the store. But my uncle was different. He was my grandparents’ darling, their precious treasure. Whatever he wished for, he got. My grandparents even *begged* him to study. Though my uncle’s grades were always at the bottom, and he even repeated elementary school twice. Yet, Grandma still believed that my uncle was the family’s only hope. My mom yearned to learn. Sometimes, she would secretly flip through my uncle’s textbooks. But Grandma discovered her. Grandpa grabbed a rope and tied my mom to the persimmon tree in the yard. “Stealing! I’ll teach you to steal! How dare you touch your brother’s things?!” My mom cried until she fainted, saying she knew she was wrong. My grandparents felt the lesson wasn’t enough and left her tied up all night before letting her down. My mom almost died that night. Life went on like that. My grandparents remained biased, but my mom was already content. At least she hadn’t been sold off, she thought.

My mom was twenty when my uncle was sixteen. He had already dropped out of school three years prior. My grandparents had arranged a marriage for him, but they didn’t have enough for the bride price. The family put their heads together and turned their gaze to my mom, who had always been their live-in laborer. They found a match for my mom. It was an older widower from the neighboring village, known for being a good-for-nothing. Rumor had it he’d dabbled in some shady business and had a bit of money. My mom refused. She would rather stay home her entire life and serve her parents. But my mom wasn’t allowed to refuse. They didn’t even hold a wedding; my mom was simply packed up and sent to the neighboring village. My grandparents took the money, immediately forgot about my mom, and lavishly arranged my uncle’s marriage. My mom tried to come home. But even the neighboring village was dozens of miles away. Plus, the old widower knew my mom’s intentions and kept a tight watch on her. In the three years my mom was married, she never returned home once. In the second year, my mom got pregnant and gave birth to me. My mom became a mother in such a bewildering way. Because I was sickly and a girl. The old widower would often beat my mom and me. In my childhood memories, I couldn’t clearly see the old widower’s face. But I could always see my mom carefully shielding me, a gentle, indescribable look in her eyes. “Iris, Mom’s right here.” I felt for my mom, but my mom felt even more for me. She raised me until I was five, and finally, fate seemed to open its eyes. The old widower got drunk, fell into the river, and drowned. My mom took me to handle his funeral in the village, and then we were sent back to my grandparents’ house. “Mom, Dad, Iris and I talked it over. We want to stay here.” At that time, Aunt Brenda was six months pregnant and needed care. My mom had worked as a nanny and done farm labor, and my uncle was working out of town. Grandma could finally enjoy some comfort. “Well, that’s just wonderful! Staying is the best thing you could do!” Grandma smiled broadly and slapped her thigh. She immediately ordered my mom, “Elara, hurry up and make dinner.” “And Iris, quick, go to the fields and pick some vegetables for your cousin.” Yes, my name was Iris. Or rather, that’s what my mom called me. I was a girl. The old widower had said there was no need to name me since I’d just get married off anyway. Everyone else just called me “the burden.” Only my mom, on one trip back from the market. She carefully pulled out a plastic ring, wrapped in three layers, and placed it in my palm. “I saw other kids like these toys. Everyone else has them, so you should too.” “Little one, Mom’s going to give you a name.” “How about Iris? What do you think?” I was so young then, I just felt my mom was very happy. I held the plastic ring, babbling out a response. “…Mom, Mom.” My mom froze for a second, then smiled even sweeter than the candy she’d secretly slipped me.

Grandma’s general store had been closed for a long time. My mom and I lived in the woodshed outside Grandma’s house. A five-year-old could vaguely tell the difference between good and bad. I could clearly feel that Grandpa and Grandma didn’t really like my mom or me. Yet, I noticed my mom’s smile growing wider. It was the feeling of being home, of stability. My mom was happy, and I was happy too, so I was willing to call them Grandpa and Grandma. But they didn’t treat my mom or me like people. Early in the morning, still twilight, my mom would have to get up and cook for the whole family. After taking my cousin to school, she also had to take care of my pregnant aunt Brenda. And of course, my mom had to look after the family’s fields. Going to market to sell vegetables and fruits also fell to my mom. My mom went to the market eagerly every day, then returned just as eagerly with a gift for me. Sometimes she would carefully count out how much money she’d made that day, then teach me how to use an abacus. “Iris, even if you don’t learn anything else, you *must* learn this.” “Once you learn this, you can make a lot of money.” “Really?” I looked at Mom with admiration, and she nodded seriously. “Then I’ll definitely spend all my money on you, Mom.” Sometimes she would buy me a few candies or pastries. But most of the time, these things were intercepted by my sharp-eyed aunt Brenda. And then given entirely to my cousin to eat. Later, my mom learned to wrap the pastries in three or four layers, stuff them into her clothes, and bring them back to me. I was little then, and I only cared about eating the always warm pastries. Sometimes, she would tell me about the books she’d seen at the county library. She didn’t recognize the words, but she was slowly learning. I could see the light sparkling in my mom’s eyes when she described these things. It was a different feeling from when she was at home. At those moments, she glowed. My mom would never know. That very early on, her resilience had inspired her daughter. I opened my mouth and asked my mom if I could go to school. My mom paused, her eyes suddenly shining. “That’s right, Iris! How could I forget to send you to school?” “Your mom regrets not finishing elementary school and not being able to teach you.” “But don’t worry, Mom will make sure you get an education.” I nodded firmly. There was only one elementary school in the village, and the age regulations weren’t very strict. Sometimes during busy farming seasons, parents would even send their four-year-olds to school. But my mom and I overlooked one crucial problem. I didn’t have a birth certificate. Because I was a girl, the old widower had immediately turned cold. He couldn’t even be bothered to give me a name, so how could he register my birth? So, even now, I was an unregistered person. I could only audit classes; I couldn’t officially enroll. My mom was so anxious she stopped going to the market. She spent every day in the village asking how to get my birth certificate. Finally, she got an answer: she needed to take proof to the county office to process it. My mom didn’t say another word and immediately rushed to the county.

As my mom became more focused on my affairs, she became less attentive to Aunt Brenda and Grandma. Actually, in my opinion, she was still attentive. It was just that compared to before, my mom had shifted her focus to me. Grandma treated my mom like a slave, and my mom just gritted her teeth and bore it. But Grandma couldn’t stand that my mom still wanted to support me in going to school. “Elara, what’s the point of a girl reading so many books? She’ll just get married off eventually anyway.” Aunt Brenda, munching on sunflower seeds, chimed in from her bed. “Exactly, Big Sister. It’s enough for Brad to go to school. Sending a girl is just a waste.” “With that spare money, you might as well use it to honor Mom and Dad.” My mom had been obedient her whole life. But she could take being bullied herself; she couldn’t stand to see her daughter suffer. She immediately straightened her back. “Mom, Brenda, you just don’t understand.” “I never had an education, you see. I want my Iris to read more, so she’ll suffer less in the future.” “Besides, the country now requires children to go to school; it’s ‘compulsory education’!” “And it’s free, it doesn’t cost money.” Seeing that they couldn’t argue with my mom, the two of them scoffed disdainfully. “Just because you’ve been to the county a few times, you’re a scholar now?” “I don’t care what nonsense you’re spouting. You won’t get a single penny from this family for it.” “And besides, Iris is living in this house, so she’ll definitely have to do her share of chores!” Grandma’s words were so clear that even my mom, as naive as she was, understood. They still wanted another free laborer. My mom was on the verge of dropping the chores she was doing. “No way!” “Iris isn’t well; she can’t do chores.” “Besides, she has to go to school, so these things won’t fall to her.” Aunt Brenda patted Grandma’s shoulder, feigning comfort, her sarcastic tone perfectly executed. “Oh, Mom, don’t talk about Big Sister like that.” “Iris is Big Sister’s darling, you know. She’s going to get her birth certificate soon. Why would we have any say?” “Big Sister got married, and she’s just different now. Her tongue is so sharp, talking about the country and the world. Iris is delicate, you see.” Grandma, hearing this, threw her sunflower seeds away in a fit of rage. “Elara, are you a donkey-brain?! Why would you get a birth certificate for a useless burden like her?!” “Just find someone to give her away, and you could get a few hundred dollars!” “You’re getting her a birth certificate, and it won’t cost money?!” “It won’t cost money!” My mom, enraged, slammed the clothes she was washing back into the basin. “I’m telling you again, my daughter’s name is Iris, Iris Chen! And I *will* get her a birth certificate!” “I don’t care if you agree or not. My daughter will not only get a birth certificate, but she’ll also go to college and make a fortune!” The two of them were scared silent by my mom’s sudden burst of assertiveness. My mom, seething with anger, went to the elementary school to pick me up.

My mom picked me up from school, and the atmosphere at home was unusually weird. Grandma snorted when she saw my mom return, her nose practically turned up in the air. My mom shielded me, not even glancing at Grandma. Opening the door to our room, my mom froze in the doorway. This room used to be the woodshed, quite spacious. After my mom came back, she’d cleaned it up thoroughly. She even learned to lay bricks herself, building a small enclosure in the northwest corner specifically for firewood. The rest of the space was where my mom and I lived. But now, the room was haphazardly piled with firewood, some even thrown directly onto the bed. I stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Seeing my expression, Grandma sneered. “Elara, this afternoon someone contacted me about sending Iris away, and I’ve made arrangements.” “You take Iris to meet them, see if they’re satisfied.” I didn’t understand who Grandma meant by “meet them.” But I could visibly see my mom’s body sway. I stepped in front of my mom. “My mom isn’t going!” Grandma’s eyes instantly widened. She grabbed a wooden stick, ready to strike me. “You worthless burden! Who said you could speak here?!” Before she could hit me, my mom blocked me. I distinctly heard a dull thud. It was the sound of a stick, thicker than my arm, hitting my mom’s back. It was as if I saw countless past instances of the old widower throwing chairs and stools at us. Grandma paused, then scoffed with disdain. “Still so sentimental, huh? You’re just going to get married off anyway eventually.” “Elara, I’m a mother too, so I’ll give you some advice.” “Go with me to meet them in a bit, ask for a good price, and we can all be one happy family, right?” Aunt Brenda, leaning against the door frame, watching the show, giggled in agreement. “That’s right, Big Sister. Why get upset with the family over such a small thing?” “You’ve delayed things for so long because of you. Just give a quick answer. Mom’s waiting for dinner.” Grandma nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. Because you didn’t work this afternoon, there’s no food in the house now.” “You’re going to let Brad starve after school? Get up quickly, go meet them!” My mom didn’t say a word, just turned me around and felt me up and down, her head down. “Iris, you weren’t hit, were you?” Tears welling up, I shook my head. “Mom, *you* got hit.” This was the first time I’d seen my mom treated like this in her own family. And the first time I witnessed such heart-wrenching malice. In that moment, I finally understood how forced my mom’s smiles were when she returned to Grandma’s house. My mom forced a smile. “Mom’s fine, it doesn’t hurt.” “Elara!” My mom ignored Grandma. Grandma’s face grew as long as a donkey’s. “What do you want?! I found such a good family for this worthless burden, and you’re still not satisfied?!” “Don’t you forget where you’re living right now?!” “Yes, I got married, so I’m like spilled water. I shouldn’t be living here.” My mom gritted her teeth and stood up straight. “But Mom, I never said anything before, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand.” “You want to send Iris away, isn’t it because that family is offering a lot of money, and you want to use it to support Dustin and his baby?” Grandma’s face turned red, exposed. “You, you…” “Since you said it, from today onwards, Iris and I won’t be living here.” “And, I also have a share in the family’s house and land. You didn’t give it to me when I got married; I want it now.” My mom immediately took me inside to pack our things, and I helped too. Only Grandma was absolutely livid. “Elara, you ingrate! Have you lost your mind?!” “What share? What share of yours? This is all for Dustin and Brad!” “I’ve fed and housed you for so many years. I haven’t even asked you for elder care money, and you’re asking *me* for money first?” “I’m telling you now, either you get rid of this burden, or you get out!” My mom desperately held back her tears, silently packing our things.

Aunt Brenda cracked sunflower seeds, laughing sarcastically. “Serves her right!” Cousin Brad poked his head out from inside, hearing the commotion. When my mom had first picked him up from school, he’d affectionately called her Auntie. Now, he held small pebbles in his hand, throwing them one after another at my mom’s back. “Serves her right!” I glared at him, and Brad seemed to get energized. “What are you glaring at, you worthless burden! Get out of my house!” He threw a pebble at me. Aunt Brenda and Grandma happily clapped. “Good boy! That’s the spirit!” I immediately scurried out, picked up a small rock from the yard, and threw it at his head. My strength was too small, though, and it didn’t hurt him. But Grandma and Aunt Brenda immediately grew frantic. “You worthless drain, are you out of control?!” “Get over here! I’m going to send you away today, no matter what!” Grandma grabbed my arm, trying to pull me over. I turned and clung to my mom’s leg, holding on tightly. “Mom, I don’t want to go! I want to stay with you!” Grandma, enraged, was about to pick up the stick again. My mom blocked me. “You can hit me, but you can’t touch my daughter!” “If you two cause any more trouble, I’ll take you all down with me!” “Fine, you win!” Grandma huffily threw the stick aside. She gave my mom a cold look. “Fine, you want to leave, then get out. I won’t stop you. From now on, don’t ever step foot in this house again.” With that, she turned and left. “Big Sister, some things, once said, aren’t good for family harmony.” “You should apologize to Mom soon, or else you’ll suffer for it later.” With that, Aunt Brenda dragged Brad away, chuckling. Leaving my mom to pack our things. I secretly took my mom’s hand. “Mom, Iris is here too.” “Okay, Iris, be a good girl.” My mom wiped the plastic ring that had fallen to the ground, then placed it in my palm. As my mom packed, Grandma and Aunt Brenda kept chatting inside. Their loud laughter occasionally drifted out from within. “…She’s been a worthless drain since she was little…” “…Her daughter’s not much better, still a money pit…” They still thought my mom was just talking tough. Their voices showed no restraint. Clearly, they intended for my mom to hear them. My mom listened in silence. Until she finished packing, my mom told me to wait outside with the luggage. She turned and went back inside. I peeked my head in curiously. I watched my mom open the chicken coop, the duck coop, and the pigsty, then, without a word, she herded all the livestock out of the door. I quickly moved aside, then watched my mom rush into the kitchen. My mom grabbed a basket of eggs and forcefully smashed them onto Aunt Brenda’s face, who was the first to emerge. Then Grandma, and finally my cousin Brad. Brad got the most eggs smashed on him. My mom laughed wildly as she smashed the eggs. “Serves you right, serves you right!” The house was in chaos, but my mom wasn’t finished. She grabbed a shovel and scooped pig manure, flinging it directly into every room. Until the neighbors heard the commotion and rushed over. My mom immediately dropped the shovel and shrieked, fleeing in a panic. “Help! My mom thinks I’m bad at chores and wants to sell my daughter!” “If I don’t let her, she’s kicking me out of the house!” Grandma and Aunt Brenda didn’t even have time to explain. The neighbors held their noses and pointed fingers at them. “I see Elara working hard from dawn till dusk every day, and they still want to kick her out.” “Yeah, who doesn’t know this family is heartless? They sold off three of their own daughters back then!” “This little girl is only five, so cute. How could her grandmother be so cruel?” “Serves them right, this family will get their comeuppance eventually!” The neighbors’ accusations made Grandma and Aunt Brenda unable to lift their heads. Soon after, our door was shut. My mom took me and left Grandma’s house, heading straight for the county seat. My mom spent all her money and bought a house near an elementary school. At that time, the concept of a “school district” hadn’t been fully recognized, but my mom just wanted it to be convenient for me to go to school later. It was my mom’s first time living outside the countryside. But she had grit and vitality. She quickly adapted to this new world. Using her past experience managing the small store at our house, she applied for a cashier position at a supermarket.

At the same time, my mom didn’t give up on fighting for her share of the family assets. Though it was just a few acres of land and some other insignificant items, my mom stood her ground. My mom said, “What’s ours is ours. We won’t give anyone a single cent!” My mom was fierce, staying up all night flipping through relevant legal texts. My uncle heard about the property division but still didn’t come home to support my aunt or grandma. Grandpa had already passed away. The remaining two women ultimately couldn’t outmaneuver my mom. My mom used the weapon of the law to protect herself and ultimately achieved a great victory. I still remember, that day was a rare sunny one. My mom wore makeup for the first time in her life, and high heels for the first time in her life. She wore the first new outfit she’d bought that year — she had originally planned to save it for the holidays. She took my schoolbag, her voice very casual. “Iris, the holidays are coming soon. Mom will take you to buy a new outfit.” That day, my mom spent all her money on me. We didn’t go home until she had spent all the money she had brought with her. My mom wasn’t used to high heels. Halfway home, she just took them off and walked on the cold ground. I followed suit and took off my shoes too. My mom quickly tried to stop me. “Iris, please don’t live as struggling a life as your mom.” I shook my head firmly. “Mom, you’re amazing. You’re the best in the world.” “I’ll be just as amazing as you.” My mom paused, then laughed heartily, tapping my head. Soon, I entered middle school. My mom thrived in the county town. I heard from a relative in the village that Aunt Brenda’s second pregnancy didn’t make it. They said it was because my cousin Brad was mischievous and started playing with pesticides. He accidentally got some in the cooking pot, and Grandma didn’t notice. After the whole family ate, they all rolled their eyes and started foaming at the mouth. If a neighbor hadn’t happened to visit Grandma’s house, they might have all just laid there until the next morning. Later, everyone was rescued, but the baby in Aunt Brenda’s belly couldn’t be saved. My uncle rushed back when he heard the news. He slapped Aunt Brenda right there in the hospital and started screaming at Grandma. But he didn’t say a single word of blame to his own son. My uncle spent a lot of money because of this incident. After returning home, he stayed in his hometown and didn’t go back to working out of town. Soon after, I started middle school, and the school was even further from home. My mom frowned, wanting to rent a new house near the school to be with me. But she didn’t need to worry. The real estate market exploded. The house we’d bought next to the elementary school was now considered a prime school district property. My mom didn’t hesitate; she sold it at a high price and bought a new house near my middle school. My mom seized the opportunity and entered the real estate industry. After work, she would pick me up from school, then study with me until ten at night. Sometimes, when I woke up in the middle of the night for water, I’d see my mom burning the midnight oil, reading related books. She was adept at seizing opportunities and successfully carved out a place for herself in the real estate industry. My mom was busy and tired, but she still insisted on picking me up from school. In middle school, I started to blossom, and my grades were exceptional. One day after school, my mom hadn’t arrived yet. Some punk kid with dyed hair blocked my way near the school, running his hand through his hair and telling me he liked me. Before I could even speak, the next second, my mom appeared beside him, glaring with a deathly stare. “What did you just say to my daughter? Say it again?” The punk kid was so scared he ran away. That night, my mom used the excuse of bringing me a late-night snack and milk to check on me. She asked me five times if I had any thoughts about dating. I said no. “Mom, don’t worry, all I want to do right now is be with you.” My mom contentedly rubbed my head and told me to go to bed early. A week later, I heard that an entire food street near the school had been bought out and was being renovated. After that, the food street, which had been plagued by various hooligans for years, no longer saw a single one. Later, I found out that my mom had bought out the entire street. Just to protect her daughter’s growth.

My high school was in a secluded area, and my mom moved us there again. In Grandma’s eyes, this meant we weren’t doing well. She had more than once spread rumors in the village that my mom was a worthless drain, a lowly person who wasn’t destined for a good life. My senior year of high school, Aunt Brenda suddenly showed up at our house with my cousin Brad. Aunt Brenda, radiating arrogance, plopped herself onto my mom’s carefully chosen sofa. “Big Sister, you haven’t been doing so well all these years, have you?” “Look at your place, how many square feet is this? The monthly rent must cost you two a fortune, right?” My mom’s face went cold as she tried to shoo them away. “What? Did someone steal your crap, making you so hungry you came all the way here?” Aunt Brenda’s face darkened with anger at my mom’s words. She calmed herself down before continuing. “Big Sister, look at you, doing such a lowly job, working so hard for so little money a month?” “Iris’s schooling must cost a lot, right? And the child’s food, clothes, and everything else—it all costs money.” “You don’t need to worry about our family matters.” My mom didn’t want to bother with her and simply told them to leave. Aunt Brenda’s mouth curled into a cold smile; only then did she reveal her true purpose. “Big Sister, I’ll be honest with you. Brad has taken a liking to his cousin.” “See, the two kids are about the same age, and Iris can barely match Brad. Our mom also agrees to this marriage.” “I’ve come to discuss the marriage of the two children with you.” “Who do you think you are?!” My mom’s voice suddenly rose. “My Iris is one in a million, a truly good girl. How dare you even think such a thing?” “Your son, with his rotten character, dropped out of school, became a hoodlum. Even a dog passing by wouldn’t look at him. And he dares to dream of marrying my precious girl?” “I’m telling you, Brenda, because I’m in a good mood today, you get out of my house right now.” “If you ever show your face in front of my daughter again, I’ll make sure you die without knowing how!” My mom’s words fired off like a machine gun, spewing insults. Aunt Brenda’s face turned green then pale, before she picked up the water glass on the table and smashed it to the ground. “Elara, what is your attitude?!” Aunt Brenda shrieked, drawing out the curious gazes of the neighbors. “What do you think you are? My son taking a liking to your daughter is *her* blessing!” “My Brad is handsome and tall; the girls chasing him could line up from one end of the village to the other!” “Your daughter is just like you, a worthless burden! If my Brad hadn’t taken a liking to her, do you think *I* would even look at her?” Aunt Brenda got more and more worked up, spitting saliva as she spoke. Brad was not to be outdone, his burly figure blocking our doorway. “Auntie, I’ll be upfront with you too.” “Grandma has already agreed to this marriage, so your opinion isn’t that important.” “What’s the use of a girl going to school anyway? My family will give twenty thousand dollars for the bride price. Cousin is only worth that much.” “Auntie, I trust you can see the bigger picture. You should be sensible and not make a fuss.” My mom let out a short, angry laugh. “Twenty thousand dollars? That wouldn’t even be enough to buy pocket change for a street bum.” “Ugly as a monkey, with a pointy nose and cheeks. How dare you think you’re worthy of my Iris?” “Why don’t I recommend a plastic surgery clinic? If you mention my name, you’ll even get an eight percent discount.” “Elara!” “Auntie!” “What are you yelling for?! Your Auntie is right here!” My mom stood with her hands on her hips, her aura not weak in the slightest. “I’m telling you, Brenda, don’t you dare try to scheme against my Iris again.” “You and your son, get as far away as you can.” Aunt Brenda and Brad were driven away in a rage.

When my mom picked me up from school and we got home, the house was already tidied up. My mom didn’t mention the incident to me. I guess she was afraid of disturbing my studies, but I still found out. My mom couldn’t hide her emotions, and I could feel the annoyance in her eyes. I found an excuse and went to the security office to ask for the surveillance footage. I watched, cold-faced, the entire process of my aunt and cousin throwing their tantrum. They really were asking for trouble. I privately contacted my mom’s assistant and, after some investigation, learned that. My cousin had recently been expelled for assaulting a classmate, and his reputation was completely ruined. But the girl, due to concerns about her own reputation, didn’t want to escalate things. So, she didn’t report it to the police. Brad had just narrowly escaped, not getting arrested. But Aunt Brenda and Grandma were still spreading rumors around the village. “What? That little hussy seduced my Brad and ruined him!” “That girl clearly looked like a slut, she’s probably been with who knows how many guys, and she dares to falsely accuse my Brad!” “My Brad is dashing and dignified, who wouldn’t praise him?” The villagers just watched them spew nonsense, secretly criticizing them afterwards. But the girl’s reputation was thoroughly destroyed. Although Aunt Brenda said these things, it was clear she was desperate. If things continued this way, Brad would eventually not even be able to find a wife. The family circled back around and thought of me again. My mom also knew the inside story and didn’t want to make a big fuss. After all, if the matter escalated, it would once again harm that girl. Of course, the most crucial thing was that my mom didn’t want to disturb my studies. My mom kept this matter hidden, not even revealing my school address. She planned to deal with it slowly. But Aunt Brenda and her bunch were shameless. They actually came to our apartment complex while I was away, hanging banners slandering my mom as an ungrateful wretch. They claimed Grandma had worked hard to raise her, but she hadn’t returned home in over a decade. And that Grandma wanted to see her granddaughter, but my mom prevented it. People in our complex weren’t familiar with my family. Within two days, people in the complex started pointing fingers at my mom, calling her an ungrateful wretch. I was seething. I had my mom’s assistant subtly hint to Aunt Brenda that I was at a certain school and was willing to meet them. I wanted them to find a reason to come find me. On Monday during flag raising, I was, as usual, preparing to speak at the broadcast station as a representative. Just then, Aunt Brenda and my cousin burst into the school. They called out my name, frantically saying my grandmother had an accident and wanted me to come home to see her one last time. Thanks to my mom buying another street near the school, the security guards all knew me. The two were let into the school, grabbing anyone they could to ask. “Where’s Iris?” Their expressions were too fierce. The student they grabbed was startled and stammeringly pointed them in the right direction. When they found me, I was practicing my speech. No one was in the broadcast station. The two of them rushed in without a word. I cautiously took a step back, and instinctively pressed the record and broadcast buttons. Aunt Brenda, however, broke into a wide, plastered smile. “Iris, your grandmother has been missing you so much lately. She asked me to bring you home to see her.” “Come home quickly with your auntie. Your auntie will take you to see your grandmother.” What a ridiculous excuse. I’d sooner believe the world was ending than believe Grandma missed me. But Aunt Brenda clearly didn’t think so. She even forced what she considered a gentle smile. “Iris, why don’t you come back to the old house with your auntie to see your grandmother?” “We specifically came to find you based on your hint. You can’t back out now, can you?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I said, my face cold, pulling my phone from my pocket. Just as I was about to dial, Brad grabbed my wrist. His grip was strong, making my wrist ache. “Cousin, just go back and see her. The old lady is getting on in years; who knows if she’ll live to see you go to college.” “Since you reached out to us, it means you want to go back and see the old lady, doesn’t it?” Brad said, a fake smile playing on his lips. “Brad, let go of my dirty hand!” I gritted my teeth and said. “Brad, don’t scare the child. We just found Iris with such difficulty.” “Iris was the one who gave us this address. She definitely won’t back out, right, Iris?” Aunt Brenda said from the side. Aunt Brenda moved to grab me. I struggled, but the strength difference between us was too great. I couldn’t break free from Brad’s grip. I directly slapped Brad across the face.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298671”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #后宫Harem

After transmigrating into a CEO romance novel as the doomed assistant, I suddenly gained the power to read minds. The CEO’s family barged into the company, ready to seize control. On the surface, he was calm and aloof, but in his mind, he was screaming: 【Damn it, I can’t take this effing job for another day!】 【It’s Christmas Eve, and I still have to work? Fine! But these idiots just keep bothering me!】 【I’m not making this money anymore, I’m going to let out a huge fart and blow this whole company to kingdom come tomorrow!】 When the female lead tried to get closer, his mind shrieked: 【Back off! Back off! Get away from me! If you come one step closer, I swear I’ll take a poop-covered spear and skewer anyone who gets in my way!】 Me: …Seriously? It wasn’t until I learned the new colleague’s name was Blair that I realized I’d transmigrated into a classic CEO romance novel as the cannon fodder assistant. I immediately went to our CEO, Julian, intending to resign. But before I could even open my mouth, someone came to cause him trouble. “Julian, you’re just an illegitimate child. It’s an insult for you to manage this company. Be smart and hand over the shares, or Grandpa Arthur will have to teach you a lesson.” “Exactly. People should have some decency. If your birth is disgraceful, you should hide in the shadows, not flaunt company shares and make a spectacle of yourself.” The people who came were Brandon, Julian’s older brother and the main antagonist in the original story, and Eleanor, Julian’s stepmother. They were all vying for control of the company. This wasn’t the first time they’d come to bother Julian. In the past, Julian, though cold, had always been respectfully polite to them. But I never expected to suddenly hear his thoughts. On the surface, Julian remained aloof and composed, but in his mind, he was practically screaming his head off: 【Damn it! I can’t take this effing job for another day!】 【It’s Christmas Eve, and I still have to work? Fine! But these idiots just keep bothering me! Ugh! I’m seriously about to lose it!】 I was shocked. If I hadn’t been his assistant for a year and already knew his voice by heart, I would have thought I was imagining things. But he wasn’t done yet. 【I wake up at six AM, go to bed at midnight, bust my ass all year round, no days off, just to build this company up. And on the very last day of the year, they won’t even let me have some peace! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!】 【You two vultures! Where were you when you wanted the company? You didn’t take over when it was about to crash, but now that I’ve turned it around, you want to snatch all my credit. Seriously, who’s the shameless one here? Pfft!】 Julian was unleashing a storm of curses in his mind, but on his face, he maintained a cold yet polite expression: “If you want the shares, come prepared to negotiate with actual funds.” In the original story, these two villains were stingy and malicious. After Julian brought the family company back from the brink, they wanted to freeload off his shares. Naturally, they refused to pay. “Julian, the shares you hold were only temporarily entrusted to you by Grandpa Arthur. You’re supposed to return them to the family now. How dare you ask for money? Do you have no respect for Grandpa Arthur?” “Exactly. Grandpa Arthur said those shares belong to Brandon. Just hand them over to him now.” Afraid Julian wouldn’t believe them, they even brought out Grandpa Arthur. “Julian, we were forced to give you those shares back then. Now that the company has overcome its crisis, it’s time to return them. I’ve already had someone draft the share transfer agreement. Come back tonight and sign it.” On the phone, Grandpa Arthur sounded self-righteous, completely forgetting that he had pawned off those shares to Julian because he found it too troublesome when the company was on the verge of collapse. Sure enough, hearing this, Julian also started to get angry. “Grandpa Arthur, you said those shares were mine.” 【Damn it, that old geezer actually wants me to hand over the shares. Why isn’t he dead yet? If he doesn’t die, I will! I’m furious!】 “Back then, I didn’t realize the true value of those shares. Now that I do, it’s only natural for me to take them back. Julian, you’re not thinking of refusing, are you?” 【Holy crap, you old fossil, you are seriously shameless! You dumped a disaster zone on me, and now that I’ve made it valuable, you want it back? Seriously? The only reason lightning hasn’t struck you down is because your shamelessness is too thick to penetrate!】 【That ancient fool! I’m not handing over any shares. Back then, my wings hadn’t fully grown, but now they have. Why would I still listen to you?】 Julian was silent for a moment, then answered decisively: “Yes!” “What?” “I said, *yes*, I don’t want to give up the shares. When you gave them to me, you never said I’d have to return them, so I’m not giving them back!” “You, Julian… you’re defying me… you’re going too far…” Julian simply hung up the phone, then handed his cell phone to Brandon and Eleanor. “I’ve conveyed my thoughts to Grandpa Arthur. You can both leave now.” He even called security. Seeing the burly security guards enter, Brandon and Eleanor exchanged glances, only daring to hurl threats at Julian: “Julian, Grandpa Arthur won’t let you get away with this!” Julian remained noncommittal. After they left, he continued to grumble in his mind. 【Everyone’s scrambling over this measly little company. It’s only fourteen hours until New Year’s. Maybe I should just set the whole company off like fireworks for everyone in the city.】 【Nah, it’s too big; it’d disturb the peace. I’ll just let out a huge fart and blow it up instead.】 Me: “…Seriously?” I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Julian finally noticed my presence and looked at me sideways. “Assistant Reid, is something wrong?” 【This silly assistant, just standing here for ages and didn’t even try to back me up. Saw her boss getting pushed around and didn’t even try to help. So useless! If it weren’t for the fact she’s been with me for a year, I would’ve fired her already!】 Huh? Is that an offer? Hearing Julian’s internal thought about firing me, I almost forgot he was insulting me. I was practically begging him to fire me.

The book I transmigrated into was titled “Arrest My Sweetheart, The Cold CEO Demands Light Affection.” It was a classic CEO romance novel, starring the icy CEO and his adorable, but utterly incompetent, assistant-slash-future-trophy-wife. In the story, Blair and I were both assistants who helped CEO Julian with his life and work. But in reality, Blair was the ornamental piece; I was the one keeping the wheels on and cleaning up her messes. From their very first meeting, Julian fell in love with Blair’s flustered, deer-in-headlights look when she spilled coffee. He’d watch Blair mess things up, scold her until she looked panicked, and then pull her into his office to “discipline” her fiercely. Afterward, he’d open the door and coldly order, “Assistant Reid, clean this up.” I was Assistant Reid, the one who did two people’s jobs, cleaned up the female lead’s messes, and even had to play matchmaker, only to be cannon fodder. I was so diligent, yet in the end, I was just fired and exiled to some godforsaken mining camp simply because I accidentally upset Blair. I protected their love, but all they wanted was for me to dig. So, let someone else be the sacrificial lamb, I’m out. Meeting Julian’s cool gaze, I cut straight to the chase: “Mr. Julian, I’m here to resign.” Julian visibly paused, but quickly asked, “Why?” On the surface, his face was stone-cold, but my ears picked up his internal chattering. 【No way, my silly Cassidy is actually trying to resign? After working with me for over a year, she wants to quit on New Year’s Eve? Does she not care about me anymore? Or did she find a better, less demanding boss? She doesn’t think I’m paying enough, does she?】 【Damn it, how am I supposed to survive without her? Maybe I should offer her a raise? How much is appropriate?】 【Ugh, I guess I’ll just ask her!】 “You…” I was about to see how much of a raise he’d offer me when the office door was pushed open. “Mr. Julian, I personally brewed you a cup of coffee…” It was Blair, the original female lead, on her first day. Seeing both Julian and me looking at her, she belatedly put on a timid expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Assistant Reid was here. Did I interrupt something?” She quickly backed away as she spoke, then tripped on the rug, spilling the scalding coffee she held. The red marks left by the hot liquid instantly filled her eyes with tears, but she stubbornly looked up, refusing to let them fall. “I’m so sorry! I… I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!” Seeing this scene, I immediately got excited. Here it comes! The first meeting between the male and female leads in the original story, where Blair spills coffee, and Julian falls in love with her flustered, yet stubborn, look right then and there. I secretly turned to look at Julian. According to the original plot, he should have immediately stood up, taken Blair out to treat her burns, and then told me to clean up the mess. Sure enough, Julian instantly stood up and walked toward Blair. I counted to four silently. Julian stopped in front of Blair. I widened my eyes, waiting for Julian to say that classic line: *You little troublemaker, always getting into scrapes.* But instead, he turned to me: “What are you waiting for, Cassidy? This place is a mess. We’ll discuss your raise in the conference room.” Then he looked at Blair: “You made this mess. If it’s not cleaned up in twenty minutes, you don’t need to come back to work.” Blair’s tear-filled eyes widened in shock, looking at Julian in disbelief. “Mr. Julian…” Julian just snorted coldly, turned, and walked away. And again, I heard Julian’s thoughts. 【What’s with that look? She barges in without knocking, and then starts crying? Is she trying to play the victim with me? Ugh! So annoying!】 【She ruined my best chance to keep Cassidy. My brand-new rug is curled up now, and I wasted coffee beans. I lost so much money, and *I’m* not crying. Why is *she* crying?】 【Holy crap! This manipulative little miss won’t actually think this will attract me, will she? Help, my eyes are burning out! Hasn’t she noticed she’s prematurely balding? Losing her hair before she’s even made a dent, I wonder what she’ll look like in the future? Like scattered dandelions?】 【Tsk, tsk, tsk… So pathetic… Compared to her, Cassidy is much better looking, even if she’s a little bald too, at least she’s competent…】 Me: …Seriously, Julian, was that really necessary? I watched Julian’s retreating back, annoyed and amused. Then I looked back at Blair, the original female lead, who was gazing at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle, stubbornly refusing to let her tears fall. This… It’s not quite like the original plot either. But regardless of whether the plot was the same or not, I was still determined to resign. Thinking this, I stepped out of the office. But just as I exited, a crisp metallic sound rang in my ears.

“Ding~” “Plot unlocked. Please complete the assigned missions. Mission One: Respect the plot, ensure the assistant and male lead, Julian, get together. Mission Two: Bring down the rival company.” As a long-time fan of melodramatic novels, I naturally knew that this sound had to be some kind of system giving me tasks. I was about to ask if I’d be electrocuted or cease to exist if I didn’t complete the missions, but the system answered me. “Should the host fail to complete the missions, the world will collapse, and you will be electrocuted and live a life of utter poverty.” Me: !!! What a cruel system! “Host, this is your first mission, so the system has decided to grant you mind-reading as a golden finger to help you complete both missions. You only need to complete one to receive a one hundred million dollar prize. If you complete both, you will receive double the reward. Good luck, Host!” After saying this, the system fell silent. I calmly accepted the system’s appearance. I mean, according to current romance novel tropes, not giving me a system would be a complete waste of such a perfect setup. With the system here, completing the missions and getting rich overnight was no longer a pipe dream.

When I arrived at the conference room, Julian was flipping through documents. Seeing me appear, he put down his papers, looked up, and met my gaze with clear eyes: “Why do you want to resign?” 【Just ask her directly. My current image should be tall, handsome, and a little cold, right?】 【She better be smart and ask for less money. The company just started stabilizing; if she asks for too much, I can’t afford it, and I’ll just flip this desk and send her flying!】 Even though I knew my golden finger was mind-reading, I still wasn’t used to Julian, who was so sparing with words on the surface, being so chaotic in his mind. Mainly, it was just too loud. I coughed to hide my embarrassment and said earnestly: “Mr. Julian, my mother fell and hurt her leg. I need to take care of her!” The implication was that I didn’t *want* to resign; it was just because I had to care for my mother. Julian understood my meaning, pondered for a moment: “Triple salary. You’re not allowed to resign!” I nodded frantically. With a mission bonus and Julian’s triple salary, a person should be content. If I didn’t agree, I’d be truly ungrateful. Before six that afternoon, the company’s annual bonus landed in my account. I counted the triple bonus. Feeling ecstatic, now, let alone digging coal, they could ask me to dig graves, and I’d do it. Julian must have sensed my firm resolve to resign, so he approved seven days of leave for me to deal with my mother’s situation. Without me by his side, he had to leave Blair to handle things. Perfect, they could develop their relationship, and Julian could appreciate Blair’s stubborn and innocent looks up close.

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I took my three-year-old granddaughter out to play. Just one tiny slip, one fleeting second, and Lily tumbled, scraping her precious knee. When we got home, my son shot me a glacial glare, his voice laced with blame. Then, my daughter-in-law slapped me hard, the sting searing my cheek, and shrieked at me to get out! The years of their contempt flooded my mind. I bit back the torrent of tears, gritting my teeth. “Fine, I’ll go!” I declared. They had no idea I’d just received a five-million-dollar property buyout. I’m 55 this year. My husband died in a car accident when my son was ten, leaving us a widow and an orphan. I refused every suitor who came calling, fearing my son would be mistreated if I remarried. I worked multiple jobs, raising him single-handedly. My son, Kevin, was bright. He got into a prestigious university and even brought home a sophisticated girlfriend from the city. I was over the moon. When Kevin married Brittany, I poured every last penny of my savings, even the settlement from my husband’s accident years ago, into their wedding and a substantial down payment on an apartment in the city. It was a grand affair, and I moved in with them. Everyone in my old town said I was so lucky, moving to the city to live comfortably with my son and his wife. But who knew the heartache I carried? Kevin’s wedding had drained all my money. Brittany always saw me as nothing but a freeloader and never gave me a kind glance. I tried to find work, but the year after Kevin got married, Brittany got pregnant. I had to stay home to take care of her. After Lily was born, I took on the task of raising my granddaughter. Yet, everything I did, Kevin and Brittany took for granted. Brittany, especially, was constantly picking flaws, ordering me around daily. At first, Kevin would occasionally stand up for me, but Brittany’s tantrums quickly silenced him. Soon, he joined her in criticizing me, giving me the cold shoulder. They say a harmonious home brings prosperity, and I truly believed that. I didn’t want the tension between Brittany and me to upset Kevin, so I always gave in, always tolerated. To earn their smiles, I’d wake before dawn to make breakfast. For lunch, I’d cook and deliver meals to their offices. And of course, all the laundry and cleaning at home? That was entirely my responsibility. But no matter how hard I worked, I never received a smile from Brittany. Even hearing her call me “Mom” was a luxury. I tried to accept it. As long as they were happy, my own grievances as a mother didn’t matter. But Brittany grew increasingly intolerant of me. Especially after Lily was born, she’d constantly complain the apartment was too small, that Lily wouldn’t even have a study room when she grew up. I knew she wanted me to leave, but where was I supposed to go? Back to the old town? My neighbors would laugh at me. Besides, Kevin was my only son. Who else did I have? I hadn’t had any income for years. I had no idea where I could go. Seeing my lack of response, her attitude grew nastier. She’d constantly tell me to “get out,” practically pushing me out the door herself. I tried to endure, but it became unbearable. That day, I took Lily downstairs to play in the complex. As we reached the entrance, I got a call. While I was on the phone, Lily suddenly slipped. Before I could react, she’d already fallen. There were some small pebbles on the ground. They scraped her delicate knee, and blood began to seep through. Lily cried inconsolably from the pain. I deeply regretted not holding her hand. My heart aching with guilt and pity, I picked her up and carried her home. Back home, Kevin and Brittany were watching TV. They rushed over when they heard Lily crying. Kevin examined Lily’s scraped knee, his face cold as he turned to me. “Mom, how could you be so careless?” Brittany snatched Lily from my arms, her face furious. She screamed at me, “Even a dog can watch a house! You can’t even look after a child! You’re just a waste of food!” Years of pent-up resentment surged. “I watch the child AND do all the housework! And I’m still wasting *your* food?” Seeing me talk back, Brittany’s face twisted into a sneer. She turned to Kevin, “See? Your mom’s complaining about doing too much work. We can’t afford to house this saint anymore.” Kevin, irritated, snapped at me, “Mom, just keep quiet.” I trembled with rage. My spineless son! He was nothing but an ungrateful wretch! Me: “Why should I leave? Don’t forget, I paid the down payment on this apartment!” Brittany sneered: “So what if you paid a down payment? Other in-laws buy the whole place! It’s my bad luck to get stuck with a pauper like you. Besides, both our names are on the deed. I have every right to tell you to get out!” I looked at Kevin. He stared at the floor, pretending it had nothing to do with him. Trembling, I pointed at them. “You two heartless monsters!” Brittany, infuriated by my insult, lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. She then shoved me towards the door. “Get out! You have hands and feet, stop clinging on here!” The blow made my head spin. Brittany used to just give me dirty looks and yell. Today, she actually laid her hands on me! Clutching my burning cheek, I fought back tears. “You awful woman! What kind of upbringing did you have, hitting your own mother-in-law?” Brittany continued to push me. “Mother-in-law? Other mother-in-laws shower their kids with money! You just freeload! Get out, now!” Kevin turned his head, pretending not to see. My heart plummeted, utterly shattered. I covered my face, pushed Brittany’s hand away, and gritted my teeth. “Fine, I’ll go!” They had no idea that the call I’d just received was from my old town. The old family property was being redeveloped, and my dilapidated little house was actually getting a five-million-dollar buyout. The topic of the old town’s redevelopment had been circulating for over a decade, but nothing ever came of it. They’d measured the land and registered everything years ago, but for some reason, it had been continuously delayed.

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The day I decided to leave, I met a girl. She looked at me with open curiosity. “Hey, handsome, you look so much like my boyfriend.” My heart ached with a complicated mix of emotions as I gazed at nineteen-year-old Luna. “I *am* him. And I was just about to leave your thirty-five-year-old self.” Luna froze, a rare flicker of panic crossing her youthful, radiant face. I watched her silently, offering no explanation, no accusations. The mistakes thirty-five-year-old Chloe made shouldn’t be laid at Luna’s feet. “No, why are you leaving, Alex?!” “I love you so much!!” A sharp pang seized my chest, an overwhelming bitterness spreading through me, suffocating me. I’d just been walking along today when I found her – Luna, nineteen years old. She had arrived from sixteen years in the past. “Is it because I’m not pretty anymore? Or your family won’t let us be together? Are you terminally ill?” Luna paced anxiously, her face etched with worry. “It can’t be that you have another woman, right?!” I… had no words. Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile, unsure how to face Luna. Our relationship, Chloe’s and mine, had long since decayed into nothingness, but nineteen-year-old Luna had no idea. She was still lost in the throes of our passionate love. “Say something! Alex!” The young girl was practically bursting with anxiety, all because she’d seen the divorce papers I’d drafted in my study. “Had I truly not made up my mind about the divorce yet?” My gaze lingered on Luna, a touch of longing in my eyes. It had been so long since I’d seen Chloe so vibrant and bright. “Luna, do you love me?” The words were barely out before a self-deprecating laugh escaped me. A man in his thirties, still asking such childish questions. “Yes! Of course, I do!” “I love you more than my own life.” Luna looked up, meeting my eyes. The nineteen-year-old’s gaze was eager, and a sweet, fresh scent enveloped me as she leaned closer. Luna’s face was filled with earnest affection, and my heart softened. But… I touched the phone in my pocket, gazing deeply at her, my chest aching. “Chloe’s on a business trip these days. You can stay here for a couple of days first.” Luna blinked, then suddenly reached out, her fingers brushing the corner of my eye. Wrinkles had formed there over the years, from time and hardships, and I didn’t care for myself. Standing next to nineteen-year-old Luna, I looked utterly mismatched. I turned my face away, embarrassed, a mocking tone in my voice. “I’ve gotten old, haven’t I?” Luna chuckled softly, a note of tender affection in her voice that I hadn’t heard in years. “You look good even when you’re old, incredibly charming.” Luna cupped my face, utterly serious. “I’ll love you even if you turn into a grumpy old man, Alex.” A long-forgotten stir of emotion rippled through my heart. At the same time, I felt a touch of irony. A beautiful start, a bitter end – that’s pretty much what it meant, I guessed. … I was getting medicine for Luna when I received the photos from the private investigator. They were high-quality pain relievers for dull bone aches, brought back from abroad by a friend. When Luna was eighteen, she’d shielded me from a baseball bat swing ordered by Brandon, and that’s how she’d developed this ailment. It hadn’t healed in over a decade, and her shoulders and back would ache with any exertion. The ointment tube slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor. I stared at the photos, a suffocating sense of powerlessness and desolation washing over me. Chloe’s affair partner was none other than Brandon, our high school classmate. I’d known Chloe’s feelings had changed, and I’d thought I could accept it, no matter who the other person was—a powerful figure or a charming young man. But Brandon, the famous celebrity, even though I knew he’d had a crush on Chloe for over a decade, I’d never imagined it would be him. Because once, Brandon had bullied me relentlessly in high school. I still remembered seventeen-year-old Chloe, her slender shoulders shielding me, trembling with fear, yet still protecting my bruised and battered body. “Brandon, if you bully Alex again, I’ll make you pay with your life.” I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. Opening them, I felt a dizzying sense of disorientation. Luna came running, her face filled with concern. “What’s wrong, Alex?” My voice was hoarse, but I tried to keep it calm as I answered her. “Chloe, you’ve fallen for someone else.” Luna exploded. She refused to believe it. “How could that be?! I swore I’d die if I ever stopped loving you!” “Alex, this must be a misunderstanding!” In our youth, we refuse to believe in goodbyes. Nineteen-year-old Luna firmly believed her love would last until she was thirty-five. But the world changes, and hearts are fickle. She didn’t know that the girl’s love had long since died during our many years together. I looked up at Luna, remembering the photos of Chloe and Brandon, and a tiny, damnable spark of hope ignited in my chest, completely out of place. What if it really was a misunderstanding?! Luna saw the dazed look on my face and squeezed my shoulders, her eyes firm. “Alex, it must be a misunderstanding!” “Please don’t decide to divorce so easily, okay?!” “Give me another chance, please?” I took a deep breath. My worn-out body felt a surge of courage from her. “Okay.” This nineteen-year-old girl deserved every chance I could give her.

“You said I cheated with *who*?! Brandon?! How is that even possible?!” The young girl was always so impulsive. I shook my head, took a sip of coffee, my mood surprisingly light. “How could I ever get involved with Brandon? I absolutely despise him!” Luna paced back and forth, as if wrestling with an impossible riddle. I calmly gathered the scattered photos of Chloe and Brandon entering and leaving a hotel from the table. If it came to a lawsuit, these would all be evidence. “Luna,” I cleared my throat. “If you were setting a password for a safe, what would you choose?” Chloe had a safe in her study, and I didn’t know the password. Luna looked at me strangely. “Your birthday, of course. Aren’t all my passwords that?” I paused for a moment. “Oh.” The safe’s password used to be my birthday, but at some point, it had changed. I couldn’t open it anymore. Luna seemed to guess something. She quieted for a moment, pulling herself from her agitated state. “Alex, don’t be sad yet.” Luna looked a little flustered, her eyes faintly red. “There must be some misunderstanding, please believe me!” I looked at her, gave a faint “Mhm,” and couldn’t resist pulling her into my embrace. I yearned for her love, even knowing it should belong to the younger Alex she knew. But I would always believe nineteen-year-old Luna. Luna sighed in relief, instantly regaining her fighting spirit. “Let’s go! We’ll confront Brandon!” “I’m not going.” Luna suddenly looked up, her eyes shining with bright affection. “Alex, I know you’ll be uncomfortable seeing him,” “I’ll go by myself.” I was taken aback. I hadn’t been afraid of Brandon for years. Chloe’s love during those years had helped me move past that bullying. I let out a low, bitter laugh. How ironic. The person who pulled me out of the abyss was now heading into one herself. Looking at the spirited Luna before me, I sighed. Brandon, having been in the entertainment industry for years, was already a seasoned schemer. Luna probably wouldn’t even get close to him. “I’ll come with you.” I stood up, looking directly at Luna. I loved Chloe too much. Even knowing she’d cheated, even knowing I was going to leave her, I still loved her. Especially nineteen-year-old Luna—that was when our love was at its peak. Luna’s ears flushed, and she looked at me cautiously. “Alex, can I kiss you?” Before I could answer, I felt a fleeting, soft touch on my lips. Then Luna, blushing, hugged me. The young girl nestled her head into my neck, just like she used to. Her voice was muffled, like a wronged kitten. “Alex, I love you so, so much. Please believe me, I truly love you.” I clearly heard the pounding of my own heart. At that moment, I fell in love with Chloe all over again. My arms stiff, I patted her back, my voice hoarse without me even realizing it. “Chloe, if only you could love me like this forever.” Luna didn’t speak. After a long moment, she kissed my neck. A warm, loving, and careful kiss. …

Brandon was a true privileged heir; the talent agency he worked for was part of his family’s empire. I led Luna to the reception desk. “Tell Brandon that Alex Blackwood is here. I need to see him.” Soon, a secretary invited us to Brandon’s private elevator. I watched Luna’s reflection in the elevator doors, and an idea sparked in my mind. “Luna, whatever I say later, don’t contradict me.” She nodded, perfectly obedient, instantly endearing. Nineteen-year-old Luna was just like that: sweet and adorable to everyone, but a little kitten only with me. She loved to be pampered, playful but also incredibly gentle. … “Well, well, if it isn’t Alex Blackwood? The top student. How have you been doing lately?” Brandon fiddled with a luxurious watch on his wrist. He hadn’t changed much over the years, looking as if he were still in his twenties. Meanwhile, Chloe and I, having built our company from the ground up, now bore the clear marks of time on our faces. I clenched my fists, suppressing the nausea churning in my stomach, and put on a polite, respectful facade. “Brandon… I came here today to ask you one thing…” I lowered my voice, making it sound utterly humble. “Has Chloe been cheating?” Brandon’s expression hardened for a moment, then he scoffed. “How should I know? You’re her partner. Who are you asking?” I tightened my grip on the voice recorder in my pocket. Brandon was a public figure, after all; he wouldn’t easily admit to being the third party. What a shame… Dropping my pitiful expression, I reverted to my usual cold demeanor. I pulled a stack of photos from my pocket and tossed them onto his desk. Finally, a crack appeared in Brandon’s composure. But he quickly recovered, not even glancing at the pictures. “Alex, you know how advanced AI technology is these days.” “These photos must be faked by someone trying to slander me.” Brandon’s words were earnest. He had maintained a gentlemanly image all these years, but the malice in his eyes couldn’t be hidden. Over a decade ago, he was the one who led others to bully me. And he, with that seemingly upright face and privileged background, had escaped everyone’s suspicion. Everyone, except Chloe. Back then, only Chloe stood by my side. It was just the two of us here. I chuckled, then swung my arm. My fist landed squarely on Brandon’s face. “Ah—!” Brandon yelped, instinctively trying to retaliate, but I fiercely held him captive. I tilted my head, a smirk twisting my lips. “Brandon, I’ve only been living like an ordinary person for a few years, and you’ve already forgotten who I am.” I looked down at him, my gaze icy. The soundproofing here was excellent; no one outside would hear a thing. Back in high school, Chloe was just a middle-class girl. She only protected me with her body. Brandon, a rich heir, wouldn’t have feared her. That school bullying incident was ultimately resolved by my father. I’m the only direct heir of the Blackwood family. Who were the Brandons to even think they could challenge us? It was only after my father passed away and I cut ties with my family that Chloe married me. Otherwise, for a girl with no family background like her, marrying me would have been almost impossible. But I truly had cut ties with my family, and now I was just gambling that Brandon would be apprehensive. After all, if the Blackwood family decided to act, the Brandon family would have no hope of resisting. I glanced at Brandon, who looked utterly indignant, then turned and called out to Luna, who had been waiting just outside the door. Luna looked at the scene before her and, surprisingly, seemed almost delighted. She leaned close to my ear. “Alex, you’ve become so powerful now,” “I won’t ever have to worry about anyone bullying you again.” I froze. I had thought she would think I had changed. Did Chloe not like the gentle, compliant Alex she had fallen for? Luna was oblivious to my thoughts. She met Brandon’s stunned gaze, visibly shuddered in disgust, her brows furrowed. I / Brandon: … Nineteen-year-old Luna clearly despised Brandon. Brandon’s expression gradually turned venomous. He gazed covetously at Luna’s face. “Alex, what kind of person are *you* to talk?” “You brought *her* here, aren’t you just trying to replace Chloe?” He stood up, looking at Luna with a lost expression, and shakily reached out to touch her face. Then Luna slapped his hand away. I / Brandon: … Luna went on a passionate rant. “Who do you think you are, trying to touch me?! Look at your own repulsive face?!” …I rubbed my chin. Objectively speaking, Brandon’s face was actually quite handsome. Young people these days, so quick to judge, huh? I tsked softly. Luna, understanding my unspoken signal, stepped behind me and subtly hooked her little finger around mine. My heart embarrassingly skipped a beat. It was a feeling of infatuation I hadn’t felt in years. Clearing my throat, I turned my gaze back to Brandon. My intention today was simply to provoke him. People rarely reveal their true colors without a little push. I wanted Brandon to fall, and fall hard.

Sure enough, the next day I received a message from Brandon. Just a hotel name and one sentence. “Come alone.” I twitched my eyelid, then resolutely brought Luna with me. Brandon, that man, he really plays a twisted game. He and Chloe sat opposite each other at a table by the hotel’s outdoor pool. Chloe was wearing a sexy, revealing bikini, an outfit I had never seen her in before. *Slap!* I clapped my hand over Luna’s eyes. “Don’t look. Filth.” Luna’s body stiffened, but she remained obediently covered. She reached up and squeezed my shoulder, her voice hesitant. “Alex, don’t be sad. Let’s just observe a little longer.” I nodded, a wave of bitterness rising in my chest. Luna and I were hidden by lush greenery, a distance away from Brandon and Chloe. Chloe had her back to us, completely unaware that there were two more people in the courtyard. Brandon, however, seemed to sense something, frequently casting ambiguous smiles in our direction. I stood frozen, my breath catching in my throat. That was Chloe. The woman I had loved for half my life. Brandon stood up, gallantly pouring Chloe a drink. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But after pouring the water, Brandon casually took Chloe’s hand and sat beside her. Chloe, without a moment’s hesitation, leaned back into his embrace. I closed my dry, aching eyes, a sudden, physiological nausea surging through me. I clapped a hand over my mouth, quickly pulling Luna away. I vomited until I was dizzy and disoriented, physiological tears streaming from my eyes. Luna stood behind me, distraught, her eyes red, seemingly even more upset than I was. After I finished, Luna cautiously reached out, her fingers trembling. She said, “Alex, can I hold you again?” I looked up. In the streetlight’s glow, the tears in her eyes were crystalline and blinding. Her eyes still held pure affection and a thick, unshakeable guilt. So I buried my head in her embrace, my tears soaking her neck. “Ch-Chloe…” I choked out the name, holding Luna incredibly tight, losing control in despair for the first time. “Chloe, you really did cheat… Chloe…” Today was supposed to be the day Chloe returned from her business trip. She’d told me she’d booked the wrong flight and would be back tomorrow. Yet, here she was, secretly meeting Brandon at a hotel. More than the photos, the truth I witnessed with my own eyes was what ripped my heart apart. Luna’s hand gently patted my back, again and again. She kept repeating, “Alex, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Luna was utterly serious. “Alex, let’s get a divorce. I’ll help you.” “My Alex doesn’t deserve this kind of humiliation.” I dizzily opened my eyes to look at her. How could a person change so drastically? Nineteen-year-old Chloe, who had loved me so genuinely. It hit me then: love truly can just… fade away. I nodded silently. Luna cupped my face, gently leaning down to kiss away my tears. But her own tears fell on my face. She said: “Alex, I’m sorry.” “I don’t know how things ended up like this…” If life could always be as it was at first sight, what would be the sorrow of autumn winds? Casual change is human nature; yet, hearts easily betray. When I married Chloe against all odds, my uncle said it was life teaching me a lesson, and its name was regret. It was a lesson so profound, I would never forget it. I was disoriented last night; Luna was the one who brought me home. When I woke up, Luna wasn’t there. Instead, Chloe sat in the living room, her face ashen. She was still wearing the dress I bought her. I sat down after a moment of silence.

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Outside City Hall, Brendan’s sincere, loving face appeared before me. “Cassie, I know I don’t have a house or a car right now, but I swear, if we work hard together, I’ll definitely buy you a car and a house! Then your mom won’t object to us anymore.” His voice was as gentle as ever, his eyes filled with what looked like deep affection. My stomach, however, churned violently. I shoved him away and ran to a nearby trash can, retching, wanting to throw up my guts. In my previous life, Brendan had sweet-talked me into eloping and marrying him. Not long after, I got pregnant. My health indicators weren’t good during pregnancy, and the doctors strongly recommended terminating the pregnancy. But he, that beast, claimed the baby was our love child, that the hospital was just trying to scam us for money, and prevented me from getting an abortion. Ultimately, complications from fetal demise caused my IQ to drop to that of a three-year-old. That’s when my nightmare truly began. On camera, he rode the wave of public sympathy, caring for his “mentally incapacitated wife,” appearing in major media outlets and being hailed as the “most devoted husband.” The media praised him, and netizens were moved by his unwavering commitment, showering him with donations. Off-camera, my meals were stale, my clothes tattered. He even used to fling open my window in winter, just so I’d get sick and appear more pitiful during his livestreams, making it easier to rake in donations. I watched him reap fame and fortune, powerless to do anything. This devil even pushed my mother down the stairs when my parents had exhausted all their savings on my treatment and were forced to beg him to use his donation money for my medical bills. He then threatened my father not to call the police, using me as leverage. With the mind of a three-year-old, I saw my mother fall down the stairs and tried to follow her. But in the chaos, Brendan, mid-argument with my father, brutally shoved me down the stairs too. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes again, and I was back on the very day Brendan and I were supposed to get our marriage license.

Seeing me vomit, a flicker of disgust crossed Brendan’s face. Then, as if something clicked, his voice took on a barely concealed delight. “Cassie, are you, are you pregnant?” Pregnant? In my last life, I discovered I was pregnant shortly after getting married, then spiraled into a nightmare. Could I be pregnant already? But I remembered Brendan and I always used protection before marriage. I instinctively clutched my lower abdomen, my limbs going cold. I was still processing, but Brendan had already confidently declared, “You’re definitely pregnant.” “How are you so sure?” I looked at Brendan with suspicion. We’d been using contraception, and he knew it. Besides, I was just nauseous; how could he be so certain? He seemed surprised by my question. A hint of awkwardness flashed across his face, then he couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice. “I’ve seen how other women act when they’re pregnant. “Cassie, this is great news! Your parents only have you, their only daughter. They’ll be so happy when they find out you’re pregnant, they won’t object to us being together anymore.” Brendan was so excited he was almost doing a little jig, and my stomach twisted again. If it were my past, naive, head-over-heels self, I might have thought he genuinely looked forward to our child. But this time, I suddenly remembered a news story I’d seen online about a guy who, to get his girlfriend’s parents to agree to the marriage, secretly poked holes in condoms to get her pregnant. I’d even shown that news story to Brendan back then, condemning the guy as a fraud. Brendan had echoed my condemnation, calling the guy irresponsible and swearing he’d never do such a thing. He said he’d only earn my parents’ approval through his own hard work, which had brought me to tears. Now that I thought about it, maybe he’d been plotting it all along. Perhaps sensing my prolonged silence, Brendan began to hurry me. “Cassie, let’s just get our marriage license now. After that, we can go to your house and tell your parents the good news!” No, absolutely not. I couldn’t get married to him. I knew how incredibly difficult divorce was once you’d signed the papers. As soon as we registered, I might never escape this man again in my entire life. Thinking this, I blurted out, “I don’t want to get married right now.” “What? “What do you mean? Are you now, like your parents, looking down on me because my family is poor?” Brendan’s smile instantly stiffened, his tone becoming angry, his voice rising. The eyes of everyone around us couldn’t help but turn our way. Brendan seemed to draw encouragement from the attention, launching into a tearful performance of his “devotion.” “Cassie, I know my family is poor, but my parents even pulled out their life savings for us to get married. Now you’re saying you don’t want to? What about my family?” As sympathetic glances fell on Brendan, the eyes that looked at me were subtly edged with condemnation. I hadn’t realized before how good an actor Brendan was; no wonder he could stream and rake in donations in my past life. Seeing my silence, Brendan put on a loving face again and reached out to grab my hand. “Cassie, I know you’re just saying silly things because you’re upset. We’ve come so far; let’s not fight, okay? Let’s just go get our marriage license.”

As his hand approached, my body instinctively recoiled. Just as a fresh wave of anger began to darken his face and he was about to say something, I forced a smile, linked my arm through his, and spoke first. “What are you talking about? If I looked down on you for being poor, why would I even be with you? I’m just thinking about the baby!” Brendan’s face lit up with a smile. “I knew you weren’t the type of woman to be a gold-digger, Cassie. So, let’s go get our license now.” With that, he tried to pull me toward the counter. I still resisted. When he looked at me, I said, half-jokingly, half-seriously, “You know my parents have always been against us. They don’t even know I came out with you to get our license. “If they found out I was pregnant and secretly got married, they’d be furious. Forget a wedding fund, they probably wouldn’t even let me back in the house. “But if we tell them I’m pregnant first, they’ll worry about me and definitely won’t object anymore. “And when both families formally discuss the wedding, since I’m their only daughter, they’ll surely give a generous wedding fund.” I emphasized the “wedding fund.” Brendan seemed to waver. I added, “You know how proud my dad is. He would never let me be pregnant before marriage.” Brendan fell right into the trap. After all, in his mind, if I was pregnant, there was no way I wouldn’t marry him. And I had always been so blindly devoted to him; he was confident that this ‘naive’ girl wouldn’t escape his clutches. “Cassie, you’re right. Let’s go back to your place now and tell your parents the good news!” Brendan excitedly gripped my hands, already mentally spending the money he was sure to get. “Wait, you’re just going to show up at my house empty-handed?” I feigned annoyance, adding a playful whine. “Like this, how will my parents see your sincerity? How will they trust you with me?” “Oh, right, right! See, I was so excited I forgot! Cassie, let’s go buy something to bring to your parents first.” Brendan slapped his forehead, feigning a moment of realization. “I won’t go with you. I need to go home first and give them a heads-up. Just buy the gifts and come straight over. Oh, and my dad loves tea.” Though Brendan grudgingly accepted I wouldn’t go with him – meaning no one would cover the cost of the gifts – in his mind, my marrying him was a done deal. So he didn’t say much more, turning to leave to buy the presents. As I watched Brendan’s retreating back, the smile instantly vanished from my face, replaced by a bone-chilling cold.

Leaving City Hall, I immediately hailed a taxi home. My mom opened the door, looking surprised and a little overwhelmed to see me. “Sweetheart, you’re home.” “Mom,” I rushed into her arms, bursting into tears instantly. “I’m home.” Feeling my mom’s warm embrace, smelling the familiar scent of her laundry detergent, I was too choked up to speak. It was wonderful. This time, Mom was safe and sound; she hadn’t been pushed down the stairs by that beast Brendan. “Sweetheart, why are you crying?” Mom patted my back, her voice full of worry. Dad stood nearby, his face anxious. Seeing my red, swollen eyes, his expression immediately darkened. “Did that Brendan boy bully you? I told you before he was unreliable…” Sensing Dad was about to launch into another long lecture about Brendan, Mom quickly cut him off, carefully observing my expression, afraid the two of us would start arguing again. Before, whenever Dad spoke ill of Brendan, I would immediately jump to his defense, and we’d argued countless times over it. I wiped away my tears, took a deep breath, and after much thought, decided to lay out everything that happened in my past life. I omitted the part about my IQ dropping due to pregnancy complications, only telling them that Brendan treated me terribly after my miscarriage. To make my parents believe me, I even mentioned several future events that would soon occur as proof. I thought it would be hard to convince them, but to my surprise, the old couple only looked surprised for a moment before believing me. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, Mom tenderly held my hand. “Of course I believe my own child.” Dad echoed her. “Given how stubbornly misguided you were before, something major must have happened for you to finally see that Brendan boy for who he really is.” Seeing my parents’ unwavering trust, my tears welled up again, mixed with a bit of embarrassment. How had I been so utterly smitten by that scumbag Brendan in my past life, causing my parents to worry so much at their age? “Sweetheart, don’t be afraid. Your dad and I will never let him bother you again.” Mom hugged me tightly, her voice trembling but firm. Her precious daughter, whom she had doted on, had been treated like that; she wanted nothing more than to skin that scumbag Brendan alive. “Mom, I’m not afraid of that scumbag, but he’s a master of theatrics. If I suddenly break up with him like this, he’ll spin the narrative, and it’ll look like our family is in the wrong, which could also affect Dad’s career.” My hand instinctively went to my lower abdomen. “And… I think I might be pregnant.” Mom immediately looked at me with alarm. “How could this happen?” Dad also frowned. “Then, the baby…” “Mom, Dad, even if I am, I won’t keep it. But right now, Brendan thinks I’m trapped by this baby. Maybe I can use this opportunity to get my revenge on him.” My proud and strong father’s eyes reddened. He said in a deep voice, “Sweetheart, what do you want to do? Your dad will risk his reputation to help you!” “Dad, your former subordinate, David Sterling, was trying to get you to invest, right? That scam David Sterling is running is about to collapse, and he’s planning one last big score before skipping town. But Brendan doesn’t know that…” Seeing that I had a plan, my parents were both relieved and heartbroken, unable to imagine how much suffering their daughter must have endured to become like this. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your mom and dad will support you, no matter what.” Just as I finished outlining the plan against Brendan, a knock sounded at the door. “Mom, Dad, Cassie, it’s me.” Brendan’s voice followed.

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