Category: English

The day I was diagnosed with kidney failure, my wife, Lydia, was celebrating the release of her first love, Asher Williams, from prison. And on the day I passed away, Lydia and Asher jetted off to a tropical island together. She often hurled insults at me, saying, “You filthy pig farmer, go die somewhere far away.” Yet when I actually died, she lost her mind and cut off Asher’s hand, screaming, “Give me back my husband’s healthy body!” How ironic. She had never once called me her husband before. Love that arrives too late is truly pitiful. 0 After two grueling days at the farm, I received a call from the doctor. His voice was somber, confirming what I had already suspected. Leaning against the fold-out bed in the break room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection. My shirt was drenched in sweat, and my face was swollen, almost unrecognizable. Wes, my colleague, came in with a pot of water. He hesitated before speaking, “Brother Michael, why don’t you head home to rest? Your absence for days might worry your wife, Lydia.” Would Lydia really be concerned? I mulled over his words, a bitter smile crossing my lips. If I vanished, she might just relish her newfound freedom. I checked my phone: three ads for loans, two scam warnings, and a missed call from my mother. I called her back. She asked about my health check-up. In simple terms: death was knocking at my door. One kidney was already gone, and the remaining one was failing. The doctor insisted I needed immediate dialysis. But I didn’t tell her the truth. Five years ago, after being stabbed, losing a kidney, my mother couldn’t sleep, her hair turning gray almost overnight as she searched for a kidney for me. What was Lydia doing then? She cried every day at the hospital, pleading leniency for the man who stabbed me—her first love, Asher Williams. She claimed the Williams family wanted to settle privately, urging me to let it go. Five million. That was the price for my half-year hospital stay, two brushes with death, and a lost kidney. Back then, it felt like a fortune. I still remember Lydia’s expression when I refused to settle. She looked at me like I was the one who had been stabbed, glaring at her enemy. Finally, she spoke with humiliation, “What good does it do to oppose Asher Williams? His family is powerful; can you compete? Since you like me, let’s get married, and you take the settlement.” In the end, I seemed like the villain bullying a girl, while Asher was her childhood sweetheart. Yet back then, I was overjoyed. I even thought trading a kidney for love was worth it. But reality was harsh. Lydia quickly married me, and I took the settlement money. Still, Asher Williams was sentenced to five years. When Lydia found out, she called me shameless. I didn’t argue. It was already a light sentence. But she blamed it all on me. If I hadn’t pandered to her, she wouldn’t have stayed with someone as shameless as me. I was drowning in bitter memories when a bank alert woke me up. [Your account 8174 spent 678 RMB on a travel website on August 25 at 7:25 AM…] I frowned. This was Lydia’s card; she frequently used it for travel. The date made me uneasy. I called her, and after a long wait, she answered. I heard a taxi driver’s voice in the background. My heart sank, “Where are you going?” “Why do you care?” she replied, her tone impatient. “I’m your husband!” I shouted, for the first time raising my voice at her. “Are you going to see Asher Williams? He nearly killed me, and you still can’t let him go?” My words struck a nerve, triggering an explosive reaction in Lydia. She sneered, “You deceitful scoundrel, what right do you have to meddle in my affairs with him?” My vision blurred, my temples pounding, “I’ll work hard to give you a better life, just don’t go to him… I’m not feeling well…” “You filthy pig farmer, go die somewhere far away.” The call ended abruptly. Wes hurried over, calling my name. As I fainted, one thought lingered. If I truly died, would Lydia be sad? 0

When I regained consciousness, the familiar scent of disinfectant filled my nose. My mother was outside the door, crying softly. She knew about my condition. I wondered how much more her hair would turn white this time. I sighed silently. My sister was comforting her. I wanted to get up and see them, but my body felt like it was pierced by spikes, unable to move. The sound of the dialysis machine was my lifeline. Not long after, I heard my sister making a call. “Lydia, my brother is in a coma in the hospital, and you’re out having fun. Do you even have a heart?” I didn’t hear the response, but my sister was furious. “My brother could have raised a dog for five years and developed feelings for it. If it weren’t for him, you would have been ruined by Asher Williams five years ago. How do you even deserve to be my sister-in-law?” Her voice faded away. I recalled the life-and-death struggle in the hospital. Five years, over eighteen hundred days, and I couldn’t warm her heart. The idea of time breeding affection was just a consolation for the disillusioned. How laughable. During the week I spent recovering in the hospital, my mother and sister took turns staying with me. I tried to forget everything related to Lydia. When Wes brought the farm’s accounts to me, my sister scolded him harshly. “You’ve been with my brother for three years; haven’t you learned anything? Even if my brother turns to ashes, you have to burn paper for him and ask how to handle a sow’s premature birth, right?” I smiled, making “ho ho” sounds, trying to smooth things over. Wes was solid and reliable, and my sister was almost ready to marry him; I didn’t want to cause a rift because of myself. During this time, Lydia called. My sister was on high alert. I stared at the flashing number, deep in thought, and wrote a note on the whiteboard for my sister to relay. The call connected, and her familiar soft voice came through: “What do you want?” After waking up, I called her over ten times, but she never answered. Now, she finally remembered me. My sister snorted coldly: “You’re really busy; we won’t serve you anymore. Just divorce my brother and get out of the Johnson family.” There was a long pause on the other end, “Let Michael Johnson tell me that himself. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up. I’ll be back on Sunday, tell him not to pick me up.” “Lydia, you…” I patted my sister, calming her down. She leaned on the bed, upset. “Brother, make sure she leaves with nothing. Asher Williams is out, and Lydia deserves a jerk for a match. “Brother, you have to be okay, wait for Lydia to regret it, and slap her hard in the face.” She forced a smile, but her eyes, swollen like walnuts, were brimming with tears. Both kidneys failed, along with acute heart failure. I became a mummy on the hospital bed, skin gray, unable to speak or walk. The only thing I could give Lydia was the freedom she always wanted. The lawyer soon came to finalize the divorce agreement, including my will. When I could no longer sit up, I refused dialysis and wanted to be discharged. The house was filled with new roses. On Valentine’s Day, Lydia threw aside the bag I gave her, saying everyone else had 999 roses. Later I bought roses, and she scolded me for having no originality, tossing them all away. I knew she liked them, so I picked them up and kept them alive. In college, I also gave her roses, and she happily kissed me. Like clouds brushing across my cheek, leaving a blush. Then Asher Williams appeared, and my world was shrouded in darkness. Roses wilt without water; she wouldn’t see them when she returned. My sister tearfully called me an idiot. I stopped breathing at the end of summer, dying in the twentieth year of knowing Lydia. Flashes of memories crossed my mind, recalling many moments with her. In elementary school, I held her hand to buy candy at the store. In middle school, I helped her with math, and she playfully distracted me with fruit. In college, I pulled her out of a club, and she slapped me, telling me to get lost… 0

It turns out, even in death, I could see myself. I floated in the air, seeing someone lying in the living room, face ashen and swollen like a bloated corpse. I was glad Lydia didn’t see how I looked when I died, thinking this, my soul suddenly drifted to her side. Whenever she returned from a trip, I used to pick her up. This time, she didn’t want me to come because she was with Asher Williams. They were laughing and talking at the airport, not looking like they just returned. Asher had a buzz cut, wore casual clothes, still looking sharp and arrogant. When he looked at Lydia, there was a strong sense of possession in his eyes. Their destination was Hawaii. While I was suffering from illness, they went on a tropical getaway. I couldn’t help but follow Lydia. Asher joked about carrying Lydia’s bag, which she dodged. “Why didn’t you bring the bag I gave you? This bag looks really ugly, did Michael Johnson give it to you? He hasn’t called you in days, is he mad because you came to see me?” Lydia frowned, “Don’t mention him.” Asher’s face lit up with a smug smile, “My bad, I shouldn’t mention the man who stole five years from us. I remember you saying you wanted your honeymoon to be in Hawaii, now our reunion trip isn’t too late.” During my struggle with illness, Lydia and Asher went on a couple’s getaway to an island. I found myself unable to stop tracking Lydia’s actions. Asher Williams cheerfully offered to carry Lydia’s bag, but she sidestepped him. “Why aren’t you using the bag I gave you? This one looks terrible. Did Michael Johnson give it to you? He hasn’t called you in days. Is he upset because you came to see me?” Lydia frowned, “Don’t bring him up.” Asher smirked, “My bad, I shouldn’t have mentioned the guy who took five years from us. I remember you once said you wanted to honeymoon in Hawaii. It’s not too late for our reunion trip now.” Lydia didn’t argue, but she kept glancing at her phone before boarding. Her calendar app reminded her that my birthday was in three days. I had set it up on her phone a month ago after much persuasion. Lydia impatiently swiped away the reminder and boarded the plane with Asher. To them, I was the thief who stole five years of their life. She despised me so much that she didn’t even want to speak my name. I remembered when we first got married, I was so joyful. Even while lying in a hospital bed, I couldn’t wait to plan our honeymoon. I filled a book with plans, including all her favorite foods, hoping to take her to the snowy mountains and grasslands she longed to see. But before I could show her all my love and anticipation, she found my plan book, tore it to pieces, and called me delusional. My joy and love were shredded and trampled under her feet. At that time, my beautiful dream had just begun. How could I let go of the only leading lady in my dream? But reality taught me that unrequited love leads nowhere good. 0

Asher brought Lydia to stay at a beach hotel. To my surprise, a third person joined them on the trip. It was Joan, Lydia’s best friend from college. Through Joan, Asher met Lydia and pursued her relentlessly. Joan mingled in these circles hoping to snag a wealthy husband, and Asher was one of her targets, leading to a fallout between her and Lydia. Back when Asher orchestrated a trap at the club to win over Lydia, Joan tipped me off, which led to my dramatic confrontation at the club. But now, Lydia happily welcomed Joan. Asher’s expression soured. Joan rushed over to hug Lydia, and her eyes gleamed like a bear spotting honey when she glanced at Asher. “Lydia, it’s been ages! How did you know I was dying to come to Hawaii?” As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Asher. Joan’s arrival was unexpected for Asher. The romantic candlelight dinner for two turned into a table for three. Asher ordered sea urchin sashimi for Lydia and wanted to feed her intimately. “Try this, we have plenty of time. I just ordered a cake to celebrate our reunion.” Lydia stiffened for a moment, staring at the dish as if lost in thought. She avoided Asher and said flatly, “Sorry, I’m allergic to seafood. You have it.” I watched her push away the plate of sea urchins and felt it was ironic. The one allergic to seafood was actually me. Lydia used to love seafood, but after we got married, I knew she had a cold uterus, so I often made soup for her and reminded her to eat less seafood. She found my nagging annoying. Now, without my interference, why would she use such a poor excuse to restrict herself? Asher’s face fell. Joan covered her mouth, laughing, eyes full of ridicule, giving Asher an out, “Lydia probably hasn’t had such a seafood feast in a long time. Don’t force it, Asher.” Lydia frowned and focused on cutting the cake. Asher grabbed her hand, “Lydia, how did you burn your hand? That useless Michael, he’ll just stay raising pigs in the countryside forever. You should’ve waited for me.” I instinctively wanted to smack his hand away, but my body passed through their clasped hands. Lydia shook off Asher, “It’s none of your business. Don’t touch me.” “Touch you?” Asher sneered, eyes brewing a storm, “If Michael hadn’t caused trouble and gotten stabbed by me, you’d have been with me long ago. I went to jail for five years because of him!” Lydia stopped, and Asher smiled triumphantly. The atmosphere at the table was tense, and Lydia was forced to drink a lot. Asher moved closer to Lydia, and she didn’t refuse. I felt bitter, but powerless to stop it. Without my interference, they were meant to be together. But the expected result didn’t happen. Asher was the first to get drunk. Lydia, with hazy eyes, looked at Joan, “Joan, we agreed on this…” Joan sneered, “I don’t know what spell you’re under. Asher doesn’t mind being a homewrecker…” Lydia wobbled to stand, and Joan quickly summoned a waiter to help her back to her room. She lay in bed, tapping away on her phone for a while, and sent me a message. 0 Soon, Lydia fell asleep, and I stared at the message. The previous message in our chat was from ten days ago when I told her I had to work overtime at the farm. Going back through dozens of messages, most were me reminding her to eat at work, or delivering warming soup during her period. If she was in a good mood, she’d reply once. Most messages went unanswered. This time, she proactively messaged me about her itinerary. I should be happy, but I can no longer reply to her. In the middle of the night, Lydia’s phone rang, and her sister’s choked voice came through, “Lydia, my brother is dead. Are you satisfied now? “When he was alive, you treated him coldly. Now he’s gone, you won’t even come back to see him?”

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Accompanying my four-month pregnant sister-in-law for her prenatal checkup, we were devastated to find out that the fetus was no longer viable. I strongly urged my sister-in-law to opt for induced labor. She followed my advice and terminated the pregnancy immediately. However, upon learning that the fetus was male, she was filled with regret. When her husband Ethan confronted her, she absolved herself entirely, blaming an erroneous diagnosis by the doctor and claiming I had pressured her into it. Ethan believed her and, accusing me of ending his family line, pushed me off the balcony to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the prenatal checkup with my sister-in-law. Smiling, I said, “Olivia, as you mentioned, it could very well be a misdiagnosis. You might want to consider keeping the baby!” …… Olivia, holding the report indicating fetal demise, challenged me: “Look at these tiny letters. Isn’t this my name? How could they say there’s no heartbeat? Did the doctor make a mistake?” “I’m talking to you! Why are you spacing out?” Looking up, I saw my sister-in-law’s worried expression. When I looked down, she thrust the report at me. Seeing the bustling crowd and doctors in white coats around me, the scene felt eerily familiar. Before I could respond, my sister-in-law waved the report in my face, confronting me again: “Sophia, are you even listening? Can’t you just take this?” Instinctively, I took the report from her and glanced at my phone. It hit me—I had been given another chance, back to the day of the prenatal checkup with my sister-in-law. In my previous life, when the doctor discovered the fetal demise, they recommended induced labor. Wanting to protect my sister-in-law, I explained the medical risks of keeping a non-viable fetus and urged her to proceed with induced labor. She looked at the report and, trusting my advice, decided to terminate the pregnancy. But upon seeing the fully formed male fetus, she was stricken with fear and regret. When Ethan arrived at the hospital and learned the fetus was male, he lost control, attacking my sister-in-law and accusing Olivia of ending his son’s life, demanding revenge. Terrified of losing her life and her status as Mrs. Ethan, she pushed all the blame onto me, claiming I had frightened her with a quack doctor’s false diagnosis and pressured her into ending the pregnancy. Ethan directed his fury at me, convinced I intended to wipe out his lineage. He attacked me, choking me hard. I struggled desperately, pleading for mercy. Even my mother-in-law didn’t intervene, taking pleasure in my suffering, saying, “How could you not want my daughter to be well and even harm my precious grandson? You deserve the punishment!” My sister-in-law stood by, allowing me to take the fall, adding fuel to the fire: “Honey, it’s all Sophia’s fault. She pushed me into this. It’s all her doing. Punish her to avenge our son.” Blinded by rage, Ethan only desired my death to avenge his son, choking me and pushing me off the hospital room balcony, leading to my immediate demise. Yet, heaven granted me another chance at life. This time, I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t persuade her to terminate. Suppressing my inner rage, I calmly told my sister-in-law: “Olivia, the report isn’t mistaken. It really is your name.” Upon hearing the report was hers, my sister-in-law roared in disbelief: “How can this be? Just a few days ago, I could still feel him moving in my belly. This must be a misdiagnosis.” I knew that, regardless of this life or the last, she wanted to keep the child. After all, the child was her bargaining chip, a means to elevate her status. In my previous life, I persuaded her for the sake of her health to agree to induced labor to save her life, but she ended up resenting me for meddling, costing me my life. So in this life, I’ll let her do as she pleases. I followed her train of thought and comforted her: “Right, right, it’s probably a misdiagnosis. You don’t always have to listen to the doctor’s advice for induced labor.” “If there’s a problem with the child in my belly, how could I not know?” “Exactly, that’s why I said it’s probably a misdiagnosis. Doctors make mistakes all the time. You should consider keeping the child.” In this life, I won’t persuade her to abort. If she ends up with a massive hemorrhage, that’s her problem. Let her do as she pleases. Olivia snatched the report from my hand, muttering to herself: “It must be a misdiagnosis. Those quack doctors.” At this point, I naturally fueled the fire, making it burn even brighter so that Olivia would cause a scene at the hospital, scaring the doctors away from treating her. I said to Olivia: “These doctors are unscrupulous. They want you to undergo induced labor, which is practically a death sentence! It’s despicable; they’ll do anything for money. You can’t let this go. You must hold the doctors accountable.” Olivia stormed into the doctor’s office, slamming the test results on the desk. “You heartless quacks! I felt fetal movement just a few days ago, and now you’re telling me the fetus is dead? You must not have checked properly. You want me to abort my child? No way.” The doctor explained: “Based on your results, we’ve confirmed it multiple times. The results are accurate; the fetus has indeed died. That’s why we recommend induced labor.” Olivia grew more agitated, throwing a fit: “What confirmation? You just did a slapdash job! You didn’t check carefully. You’re just after our money. Who knows how accurate this result is?” The doctor remained calm and continued: “We’re a legitimate facility, and our results are based on thorough examinations. We recommend induced labor because carrying a dead fetus poses high risks. A massive hemorrhage could endanger your life. But ultimately, your life is your own, and how you choose to proceed is up to you.” Olivia was fuming, taking a few steps back. Luckily, she sat down on a chair; otherwise, if she had accidentally sat on the floor, who knows whom she would blame next. Not long after, my profit-driven mother-in-law showed up at the hospital. It seems Olivia had already contacted her. She arrived and slapped me twice: “Sophia, why are you so useless, standing there like an idiot? You’re supposed to be taking care of Olivia, but you can’t even help her, letting her be bullied by those unscrupulous doctors. You’re so worthless.” I cried, covering my face, explaining: “Mom, it’s all my fault for being tongue-tied.” “Crying? All you know is how to cry. No wonder the doctors can manipulate you to take your money. You’re useless.” After hitting me, she started causing a scene at the doctor’s office entrance. “Come and see, everyone, look at this heartless hospital, these heartless doctors. They told my daughter the fetus is dead and to induce labor. This is practically murder for money. They’ll do anything for dirty money. I’ve had two kids, all healthy. How could there be so many problems?” My mother-in-law made an unreasonable scene, refusing to listen to the doctor’s explanations and causing a huge ruckus in the doctor’s office. The doctor, overwhelmed by the disruption, finally said: “Just go home. You don’t have to go through with the induced labor. Just don’t make a scene here. I won’t treat you anymore. Do as you please.” With that, we were kicked out of the office. My mother-in-law, not satisfied with her rant, continued muttering curses. As we left, I overheard the doctor muttering: “Ignorant mother and daughter. You’ll pay for the decisions you make today.” After all the ruckus, Olivia seemed exhausted, asking me and my mother-in-law to send her home. Seeing her so fatigued, more so than a typical four-month pregnant woman, I suspected the dead fetus was deteriorating inside her. If not dealt with promptly, I couldn’t imagine what would happen next. However, I’m quite curious to see how she’ll fare living with a dead fetus and what fate awaits her. As soon as we entered Ethan’s Family home, we ran into Ethan, who was about to head out. Seeing us come in, Ethan, as usual, was cold, accusing: “You’re pregnant and still running around outside. If anything happens to the child, I’ll have your head.” Looking at the man before me, I felt an inexplicable fear. In my last life, it was him who, without distinguishing right from wrong, firmly believed I was responsible for the loss of his son, accusing me of wanting to end his lineage. Yet he didn’t know that I advised Olivia to terminate the pregnancy for her health, planning to have children after recovering. He cruelly pushed me off the balcony, ending my life. Before I could gather my thoughts, Olivia, with a smile, approached him: “No, honey. This morning, my mom and the others accompanied me to the prenatal checkup.” Ethan, still in his cold tone, asked: “What did the doctor say?” Facing Ethan, Olivia’s fatigue vanished as she playfully said: “Honey, the doctor said the baby is very healthy and developing well. It’s just that I’m a bit weak as a pregnant woman, and my nutrition isn’t keeping up.” Olivia could lie without batting an eye. My mother-in-law chimed in: I was shoved off the balcony, my life taken away in a cruel twist of fate. Before I could fully grasp what was happening, Olivia flashed a smile and said, “No, sweetie, my mom went with me for a prenatal checkup this morning.” Ethan, maintaining his cold demeanor, questioned, “What did the doctor say?” Olivia, shedding her earlier fatigue, replied sweetly, “Darling, the doctor said the baby is doing well, developing perfectly. It’s just that I’m feeling a bit weak and undernourished.” Olivia was so smooth with her lies that she didn’t even blink. My mother-in-law chimed in, “Son-in-law, you have no idea how much Olivia struggled this morning, waddling around with that belly. Pregnancy is truly exhausting. You mustn’t mistreat her in the future!” Ethan glanced at Olivia’s belly and remarked, “Five million for a son, two million for a daughter. Just focus on your pregnancy.” With that, he left. My mother-in-law was overjoyed, exclaiming, “Oh my, my dear daughter, you’re carrying my grandchild, and that’s five million!” She then turned to me, boasting, “Did you hear that? That’s five million. Why are you just standing there? Can’t you see you should help?” I silently cursed in my heart, “Ha, why drag me into this? Five million, my foot! Dream on; you need a living baby for that.” I deliberately moved slowly towards Olivia, reaching out but not touching her hand. She suddenly collapsed, clutching her belly and crying out, “It hurts, it hurts.” My mother-in-law shoved me aside, causing me to fall heavily to the ground. “Sophia, if anything happens to my grandchild, I’ll hold you responsible, you useless thing.” She even tried to slap me, but Olivia was wailing on the floor. Blood flowed from her thighs, staining her pants. The driver quickly rushed her to the hospital. On the way, Olivia insisted that the previous hospital was trying to exploit her and refused to go back, opting for a different one. “As if switching hospitals would revive the lifeless fetus inside her.” At the hospital, she was rushed into the emergency room. My mother-in-law anxiously paced outside, muttering, “My grandchild, my grandchild, please be okay.” She blamed me, “It’s all your fault. If you had helped Olivia sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. If anything happens to her, see how I deal with you.” A nurse came out with a troubled expression, “The fetus has stopped developing. We need to induce labor.” My mother-in-law panicked, realizing this meant losing her five million. “No, you can’t induce labor. My son-in-law promised five million.” The nurse scolded, “What are you thinking? If the mother hemorrhages, her life is at risk. The fetus has already stopped developing.” “No, no!” “Auntie, is a life or five million more important? When a life is lost, where will the five million come from? Preserving life is crucial.” Both hospitals confirmed the diagnosis, and my mother-in-law had to accept reality. The nurse’s words made her realize she could have many more five-million grandchildren in the future. She quickly agreed to sign. In this new life, I couldn’t let Olivia easily abort the baby. I swiftly took the pen from my mother-in-law’s hand. Pretending to care for Olivia, I said, “Mom, you can’t sign. How can you abort Olivia’s baby? She cares so much about this child. You’re risking her life!” My mother-in-law slapped me again, “Get lost. It’s not your place to decide for my daughter. Let go. I can’t harm my daughter. First, save Olivia. Abort the baby.” “Mom, you must reconsider!” My mother-in-law got the pen back, about to sign, when Olivia’s voice came from the emergency room, “I decide what happens with my child!”

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A week before the wedding, my fiancé Kendrick told me he would first marry his first love, Leonore Griffin before he could marry me. He said Leonore’s mother had passed away and left a will asking them to marry. “Leonore’s mother always hoped she would marry a good man. I’m just fulfilling her last wish. Don’t overthink it.” But the company had already decided to launch the TrueLove Collection jewelry project on the day of our supposed wedding. He impatiently said, “That’s only about a few billion dollars. Can it compare to the promise I made to Leonore’s mother? If you really want that few billions of dollars, go find someone else to marry.” Faced with his cold words, I didn’t hesitate anymore. I immediately dialed my brother. “Terrence, I need a new groom.” My brother, Terrence Benson, couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re calling off the wedding?” “No, Kendrick is marrying someone else.” I forced a bitter smile. To be with Kendrick, I had worked so hard, facing countless challenges from my family just to get their approval for our relationship. Moreover, I decided to launch the TrueLove Collection jewelry line on our wedding day. But now, it was all in vain. Terrence was silent for a long time before saying, “Well, that only leaves Phelps. His family’s been pushing him hard, and he’s been looking for a marriage partner.” I furrowed my brows. Phelps Cullen was my arch-nemesis. When I got engaged, he’d cursed that I wouldn’t get married, and now his words seemed to be coming true. Time was tight. I could only agree. “Then it’s him. Ask him what he thinks. If it doesn’t work, I’ll figure something out.” Terrence quickly blurted, “No need to ask. He’ll definitely agree.” “Why?” Before I could ask further, a group of people surrounded me. “You must be Kendrick’s fiancée! You’re so beautiful!” “You’re here waiting for Kendrick to finish work? He’ll be down soon. You two are so in love.” I gripped the steering wheel, lowering my gaze to hide the self-mockery in my eyes. Kendrick had introduced me to his colleagues and friends long ago. To everyone, we were the perfect couple. But no one would expect that he was about to marry someone else. After bidding them goodbye, Kendrick got into the car and handed me a necklace. “This is from Leonore. Yesterday at the funeral, you made her uncomfortable, so you should apologize when you have a chance.” The necklace was clearly a freebie that came with a genuine purchase. I had seen the purchase record of the real one in Kendrick’s shopping record a few days ago. I quietly said, “I don’t want it.” Kendrick frowned. “What’s your problem now? You were the one who stormed into the funeral and said I wasn’t her fiancé, embarrassing her. She didn’t even argue with you and still thought of giving you a gift. Are you really going to act like this?” I realized then that the man who once protected me no longer existed. Now, he cherished someone else. Kendrick rolled down the window in frustration, letting the wind blow. After a while, seeing that I wasn’t trying to appease him, he said, “Forget it. I’ll accompany you to try on wedding dresses today, and I won’t hold it against you.” This was the first time he’d backed down this year. At the bridal shop, the staff greeted us. “Mr. Collins, Ms. Benson, the twenty custom wedding dresses and suits you ordered are ready.” But Kendrick wasn’t focused on the clothes. He was staring at his phone, looking rather anxious. Noticing my gaze, he quickly put the phone away and looked at me apologetically. “Alisha, something’s come up with Leonore. I need to leave right away. You go try on the dress. Just pick a suit for me. I trust your taste.” With that, he rushed out and left me alone. The staff hurried over and tentatively asked, “Ms. Benson, would you like to choose the suit yourself?” I looked away and nodded. I would choose a suit, but it would not be for Kendrick. After all, my groom had changed. After picking up my wedding dress, I headed home, thinking Kendrick would be gone all night. But to my surprise, he returned before dinner. He walked up to me, holding a takeout box. “I made a special trip to get you Sugarland Sweetery’s snack.” I glanced at the box of doughnuts. There were three less than usual, and one of them had a bite mark on it, clearly taken by someone. Half an hour ago, I had seen Leonore’s post on Twitter. The picture in her post was of the doughnut I held in my hand. The caption read: [My husband buys me a late-night snack. He’s such a trooper. I love him!] I set down my fork with a bitter smile, suddenly losing my appetite. “I don’t want it. Throw it away.” Kendrick shot me a displeased look but held back from reacting. He sat down beside me and started complaining. “You don’t know how pitiful Leonore is today. My parents went to her house and yelled at her, saying her family had no money and couldn’t even throw a decent wedding. She was so upset she cried. “Leonore just returned to the country and doesn’t have much money. I want to give the money you gave me over to her.” His shameless words made me feel sick. I looked at him sarcastically. “So now I’m supposed to organize your wife’s wedding?”

In the past, I cared about Kendrick so much that I would have done anything for him. But now, his actions had opened my eyes. Looking back, it seemed that everything Kendrick had done since Leonore returned was for her. He had forgotten that I was the one who was supposed to spend a lifetime with him. My response angered Kendrick. “What do you mean by that? Do you want to refuse me? You better think carefully. Leonore is my best friend, and you better make her happy. If not, I won’t marry you!” With that, he slammed the door and left. I was frustrated and went downstairs for a run in the park. I had just finished one lap when I received a call from Phelps. Thinking of Phelps, who always had a stern expression, I hesitated for a moment but still answered. “Once you agree to this marriage, you belong to me. If you try to run, I’ll tie you up and bring you back!” Phelps’ first words were anything but pleasant. I stayed silent, and he continued, “Send me your ID card first and let’s get the certificate. “I’m afraid you’ll back out.” I suddenly felt something was off. A thousand scenarios of how he might use our marriage to torment me flashed through my mind. But at this point, I had no other choice. I sighed and said, “See you at the wedding, Mr. Cullen.” As soon as I finished speaking, Kendrick appeared behind me. “You’re inviting Phelps to our wedding? I won’t allow it!” He stared at me, his eyes intense. “Alisha, haven’t I told you not to associate with Phelps? He has ulterior motives. If you insist on inviting him to our wedding, I’ll fall out with you!” Before I could say anything, he had already made his threat. Kendrick had never liked Phelps. I didn’t know why he had such an inexplicable hostility toward him. When Kendrick and I first got together, he was jealous even when I and Phelps argued over messages. Over time, I stopped keeping in touch with Phelps. Hearing him say Phelps had ulterior motives made me feel puzzled. Just as I was about to ask him more, Leonore suddenly leaned against Kendrick’s shoulder. “Kendrick, you’re hurting me…” It was then I realized they were walking hand in hand. Kendrick cleared his throat awkwardly but didn’t pull his hand away. Leonore looked at Kendrick with affection and, feigning helplessness, apologized to me. “Alisha, I’m sorry. Kendrick and I are just familiarizing ourselves with the wedding process. Please don’t mind. “You know I won’t say anything about the people you hired to hurt me or ruin my mother’s grave, but please, don’t hurt Kendrick. True love cannot withstand testing.” I didn’t want to watch her perform her act and turned to leave. “Since you’re so eager, I’ll go find someone to beat you up tonight and dig up your mother’s grave!” Kendrick slapped me hard across the face. “Alisha, how can you be so vicious?!” His face was dark, his chest heaving. I froze. I hadn’t expected him to believe what others said so easily. At that moment, I realized that the five years of our relationship seemed to have earned me no trust at all from him. Fury rose in me, and I wanted to confront Kendrick, but Leonore stepped in front of him. “Alisha, please. After the wedding, I’ll give Kendrick back to you. “Please, don’t hurt anyone around me, and don’t hurt Kendrick.” She was on the verge of tears as she said that. Kendrick quickly comforted her and shot me an angry glare. “Alisha, I know you come from a rich family. But don’t think you can bully others just because you have a great background! “You know I hate people who use power to oppress others. If you still want to marry me, stop causing trouble!” After that, he warned me not to show up in front of them before the wedding. The next day, Kendrick contacted me again. He started scolding me as soon as the line was connected. “Alisha, you really dug up Mrs. Griffin’s grave? I didn’t expect you to be this kind of person!” I was filled with confusion and had my assistant investigate, only to discover something shocking. I found out that Leonore’s mother was never dead.

I thought to myself, “No wonder Leonore went so far as to dig up her own mother’s grave to frame me. It turns out her mother’s death was just a scam.” I sent Kendrick a text: [Leonore’s mother isn’t dead. The truth is in the email I sent you.] As for whether he would read it, that was no longer my concern. Phelps booked a flight for me to leave in three days. When Kendrick returned, he found me packing up. I had thrown away half of my clothes and sent a small portion to Nexura City. “Why are you packing already?” Kendrick asked, his expression hesitant. I casually replied, “I’m moving.” He fell silent for a moment, seemingly not picking up on the oddity, and continued, “Your family’s company is in Nexura City, and we’re supposed to settle there after marriage. Well, it makes sense to start packing early.” After that, he looked at me with a stern gaze. “You need to apologize to Leonore as soon as possible. Don’t make things difficult for me. Just apologize on the wedding day. What do you think?” With that, he put down his phone and began searching for his ID card. Today was the day he and Leonore were getting their marriage license. He didn’t return until late in the evening. I opened my phone and found a message from Leonore. In the picture, Kendrick and she were dressed in a couple of outfits, lying in bed together. I closed my eyes, but the sharp pain in my heart couldn’t be suppressed. I forced myself to push the emotion down and turned off my phone. Late that night, my phone beside the pillow vibrated every hour. Leonore kept sending me videos of her and Kendrick taunting me. The next morning, I received a message from Phelps. [Ms. Benson, the flowers have bloomed. It’s time for you to come back to me.] Attached was a picture of our marriage license. Behind them was a vibrant red rose. I never thought the flower I had casually given him years ago was still being cared for. A strange feeling stirred inside me. I replied with one word: [Okay.] I put down my phone and started organizing the work files on my computer. Just then, Kendrick returned. He was packing his things and said, “I’m going to stay with Leonore for a few days. She’s been busy with wedding preparations. The wedding is the day after tomorrow, so make sure you’re there on time.” Then, he explained a whole lot, saying he was just going to help out and asking me not to cause any more trouble. “Yeah, I won’t go,” I lowered my eyes and said quietly. After last night, any remaining feelings for him had completely faded. My calmness seemed to worry Kendrick a bit. He hesitated for a moment. But then, thinking of Leonore’s sweet face, his grip on his phone loosened. He thought, “Alisha loves me so much. She won’t leave me no matter what.” With that, he sighed in relief, stopped paying attention to me, and left. I watched his retreating figure and made a phone call. That night, a helicopter landed in the plaza. A man walked up and said, “Ms. Benson, your helicopter has arrived. It will take you to Nexura City in half an hour.” I nodded and handed him an envelope. “Tomorrow, take this envelope to the wedding venue. It’s my wedding gift for the bride and groom.”

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When I found out I was the stereotypical evil side character in some cheesy showbiz romance story, I didn’t waste a second. I dumped the overly devoted second male lead and got the hell out of there. Where did I go? Down south—to start a pig farm. And guess what? I crushed it. The farm grew, business boomed, and eventually, a popular reality show decided to feature me. But here’s the kicker: why on earth are the male lead, the female lead, and my ex-boyfriend all part of the cast?! Now, they’re standing around in my barn, having a very serious discussion about postpartum care for sows. Meanwhile, the internet is blowing up. People are saying stuff like, ”OMG, Ryan can’t stop staring at Nancy! There’s definitely something going on between them!” What the hell?! Why are you people so good at spotting drama where there is none?! When I signed the contract, they told me the job was simple: raise pigs, live a quiet life, and do the bare minimum. Easy, right? But barely a few months in, the farm became ridiculously successful. So successful, in fact, that it caught the attention of a reality TV show. My boss, ever the opportunist, decided to cash in on the hype. Before I knew it, I was shoved into the cast as a “resident NPC” and pig farming consultant. And that’s how, at the crack of dawn, I found myself staring down a camera crew that had barged into my house uninvited. I peeled off my face mask, tied my hair into a messy bun, and waved at the cameras with the weary resignation of someone who had already given up on life. [Wait, this is the pig farming consultant???] [OMG, she’s stunning! I’m obsessed! Queen, hug me!] [No way this is real life. Did they plant her here? How does a pig farm have someone this gorgeous?] I glanced at the livestream comments and smirked. Look, as the designated villainess of this story, I have zero interest in showbiz drama. That’s right—I know exactly where I am. This isn’t just a pig farm. I’ve landed smack dab in the middle of a cliché-filled romance novel. The plot? A classic setup. The male lead, a big-shot actor, falls head-over-heels for the female lead, a sweet, effortlessly charming rising star. Together, they take the entertainment world by storm. The female lead is exactly what you’d expect: a natural-born sweetheart adored by every man who crosses her path. The male lead? Obsessed. The second male lead? Devoted. The third, fourth, and fifth male leads? All hopelessly in love with her, too. And then there’s me. The villainess. I’m gorgeous, sure, but my role is to be jealous, petty, and endlessly humiliated by the female lead’s natural charm. Oh, and my boyfriend? Ryan. He’s the loyal second male lead, the one who pines after the female lead the hardest. In the original story, Ryan and I had been inseparable since middle school. Desk mates, classmates, and later, a couple. He was my protector. I was his girl. Everyone thought we were the perfect match. But then, during our senior year of college, Ryan met Sandra. Sandra was… well, Sandra. Beautiful, sweet, and impossibly kind. The perfect heroine. Suddenly, everything was about Sandra. Sandra was amazing. Sandra was adorable. Sandra could do no wrong. On my birthday, Ryan left me stranded on the side of the road to answer Sandra’s call. That’s when I snapped. In the original novel, I spiraled. I created a fake account to spread rumors about Sandra, accusing her of being a homewrecker. When I got caught, Ryan and I had a massive fight. After that, our relationship fell apart, and my resentment for Sandra only grew. Sandra went on to become a rising star in the entertainment industry. I, on the other hand, became the bitter ex-girlfriend who tried to sabotage her at every turn—stealing her roles, spreading rumors about plastic surgery, and even tampering with her stunt harness. Eventually, Ryan dumped me. He and Kenneth joined forces to protect Sandra, leaving me to self-destruct. Consumed by jealousy, I lost my mind. In a final act of desperation, I attacked Sandra with acid at a press event. Ryan pushed me down a flight of stairs, and I was gone. Not peacefully. Not gracefully. I have gone with my eyes wide open, full of regret and rage.

The day I “woke up” and remembered all this? I laughed. What kind of garbage plot was this? If Ryan ever dared to fall for someone else, I wouldn’t waste my time scheming. I’d slap him, kick him to the curb, and move on. And honestly? The idea of Ryan liking someone else was ridiculous. This is the same Ryan who barely knows five people outside of me. The guy who probably couldn’t even name our homeroom teacher. If he wasn’t drawing, he was glued to my side—buying me lunch, saving me a seat in class, doing my laundry, walking me home. When would he even have time to meet Sandra? At first, I thought this was all just some bizarre nightmare. But then, the senior year started, and I saw her. Sandra. She was exactly as the story described: radiant, dazzling, and full of life. Even in a crowd, she was the center of attention. Something inside me twisted. A bad feeling crept up my spine, but I pushed it down and told myself it was nothing. Still, I couldn’t help it. I got annoyed and told Ryan to stay away from her. He laughed, kissed my cheek, and promised he would. But then they started running into each other more and more. And before I knew it, Ryan’s eyes lingered on her longer than they should have. He didn’t even realize it himself, but suddenly, every other sentence out of his mouth was about Sandra. “Why are you so desperate to be friends with her?” I finally snapped. Ryan’s smile faded. “I’ll explain later,” he said quietly. But the knot of dread in my chest wouldn’t go away. I started dreaming about falling down those stairs. On my birthday, Sandra called Ryan. He left me by the side of the road and walked away. I stared after him, my heart breaking. That’s when I knew I couldn’t change my fate. So I ran. I broke up with Ryan over text, packed my bags, and disappeared. I moved to a place where no one could find me. I poured myself into my work, using everything I knew to become a research specialist at a nationally renowned pig farm. I dedicated my life to raising the best, most beautiful pigs in the country. And just when I thought I’d finally escaped, fate caught up with me again. The reality show moved in, and so did my past. Fine. Let the wheels of destiny turn. If I pretend well enough, maybe this nonsense will pass me by. I gave the crew a tour of the farm and returned to the set where the cast was waiting. And then I saw him. Ryan. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, his face cold and distant. Next to him was Sandra, radiant in a white dress, her long black hair flowing like a heroine fresh out of a romance novel. Leaning lazily against the wall was Kenneth, the male lead, smirking as Sandra chatted away. Sandra saw me and lit up. “Oh, a new face! Come here, come here!” She was as lively and sweet as ever, and her excitement drew everyone’s attention to me. Ryan’s eyes locked onto mine, sharp and icy. The chat exploded. [OMG, look at these visuals! Everyone here is gorgeous!] [Sandra is so adorable! She’s the perfect heroine!] [Kenneth looks so soft when he looks at Sandra. I’m obsessed with this ship!] [Wait, isn’t Ryan a famous painter? And Sandra personally invited him to the show? I’m here for this couple!] My heart ached, but I forced a smile. Sandra ran over and grabbed my hand. Ryan smiled, too—but there wasn’t a shred of warmth in his eyes. A shiver ran down my spine. Oh, he’s pissed.

The first segment of the livestream kicked off with the host introducing me as “Nancy, a world-renowned pig farming expert.” I waved my hand with a smile, trying to play it down. “Not world-renowned, and definitely not an expert.” When I went to find a seat, I realized the only spot left was, of course, between Ryan and Sandra. Nope. Not happening. Instead, I calmly grabbed a stool from the side, set it down, and sat on it like a well-behaved student. The host then revealed the episode’s main task: teams of two would adopt and care for a piglet. To make the pairings fair, we’d play a game of “I Have, You Haven’t.” It started off easy enough, with everyone throwing out pretty generic experiences. Then, it was Ryan’s turn. He leaned back, expression cold, and said, “I’ve been dumped before.” The room fell silent, followed by the faint sound of people whispering, “Really? That’s it?” Two guests raised their hands, admitting they’d been dumped before, too. Meanwhile, the livestream chat was going wild: [Wait, WHAT?! Who would dump Ryan? He’s perfect!] [Drop their name. We’ll handle it.] I rested my chin on my hand, smirking to myself. It was me. But Ryan’s eyes didn’t leave me. He kept staring, and it was starting to make me uncomfortable. Sure, technically, I dumped him, but let’s not kid ourselves—if I hadn’t run first, he would’ve done it eventually. I snorted softly and waited for my turn. When it came, I casually said, “I’ve dealt with a cheating ex before. But don’t worry, I woke up in time and dumped him.” The room erupted into applause. People clapped, some even praising me for being smart enough to cut my losses. Ryan blinked, momentarily stunned. Then his expression darkened. I tilted my head, giving him a smug little smile. Yeah, that’s right. I’m talking about you, you jerk. Before I could enjoy the moment, someone handed me a piece of candy. It was Anthony, the pretty boy idol with a face that looked like it had been handcrafted by angels. He smiled warmly and said, “Nancy, you’re so stunning. I can’t believe someone would be stupid enough to cheat on you.” The “stupid cheater” in question? Ryan. And Ryan? Oh, his mood instantly soured. The air around him practically dropped ten degrees as he glared at Anthony with the intensity of a thousand suns. Anthony, clearly feeling the tension, hesitated before glancing nervously at Ryan. “Uh, don’t you agree, Ryan? I mean, how could anyone let Nancy go? That’s just… dumb.” Then, turning back to me, Anthony added with a wink, “If it were me, I’d never do that. I’m the loyal type.” The livestream chat lost its mind: [OMG, I ship it! They look so good together!] [Anthony’s never been this bold before. Is this a confession?!] [Lock it in! Anthony and Nancy forever!] Ryan’s face? Blacker than a thundercloud.

In the end, I got paired with Sandra, while Ryan ended up with Kenneth, the male lead. Watching the two of them—a brooding Ryan and a laid-back Kenneth—forced to work together was pure entertainment. It was like watching a soap opera in real-time. Ryan, however, seemed less amused. His eyes kept darting between me and Kenneth. Finally, he stood up and positioned himself directly in my line of sight as if to shield me from Kenneth’s presence. I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the back of my skull. What was his deal? When I turned my head, I noticed Anthony chatting and laughing with another female guest. Ryan noticed, too. His jaw clenched, and before I could blink, he marched over and planted himself between me and Anthony. The livestream chat was eating it up: [Ryan’s acting way too obvious! What’s going on?] [What’s going on? Nancy is clearly his ex. Duh.] [This isn’t a love story. This is love denied.] [I’m living for this drama!] I felt my lips twitch, holding back a laugh. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. I decided to retreat to my room before things spiraled even further. The afternoon task was simple: tour the farm and pick a piglet to adopt. I left the decision-making to Sandra, telling her she could pick whichever piglet she liked. Meanwhile, I stayed behind to reorganize my room. It may have been overkill, but by the time Sandra returned, my room looked like something out of a Pinterest board—pink curtains, matching bedding, everything perfectly arranged. Sandra gasped the moment she walked in. “Wow, Nancy! You’re incredible! How did you do all this so fast?” Sandra was the textbook sweet romance heroine: gorgeous, pure-hearted, completely useless when it came to practical tasks, and always sticking her nose in other people’s business. Before I could stop her, she grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go help Ryan!” Help Ryan? Why would I want to help him? Sandra dragged me to Ryan’s room, and the moment we stepped inside, I froze. It was a disaster. Clothes were everywhere, the bed was unmade, and random junk was scattered across the floor. This didn’t make sense. Ryan might’ve been a spoiled rich kid, but he was always neat and put together. Ryan spotted me and instantly stiffened. “What are you doing here?” he asked, voice tight. Sandra, oblivious as ever, beamed at him. “Nancy and I came to help! Didn’t you say you didn’t know how to organize this stuff?” What was she doing? This was her moment to bond with the male lead—or at least Ryan. Why drag me into it? I immediately turned to leave, but Ryan grabbed my wrist. “What now?” I snapped. “If you’re so helpless, hurry up and finish so you can go help Sandra.” His grip loosened, and he muttered, “I’m not helping Sandra.” Sandra, standing by the door, rolled her eyes playfully. “As if I’d need his help! He’s useless!” She then skipped off, probably to find Kenneth. The livestream chat exploded: [The ship is sinking…] [Was it ever floating? LOL.] [Look at Ryan’s stubborn, lovesick expression. I’m shipping it harder than ever!] I froze, suddenly realizing something. This wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.

In the original storyline, Ryan was supposed to treat Sandra like a princess. Sandra, who could barely manage basic life skills, relied on Ryan for everything. And Ryan? He didn’t just tolerate it—he embraced it. For her, he was willing to step out of his comfort zone. The guy hated being in the spotlight, but he still joined a reality show just to keep her company. On the show, he was endlessly patient, helping her with even the smallest things. The audience loved it. They shipped them as if their lives depended on it. Fans practically went to war over this “perfect couple.” Even Kenneth, the male lead, got jealous, which led to a little drama with Sandra—exactly the kind of tension that pushed the romance plot forward. But now? Something was off. Ryan didn’t even help her change her bedding. Worse, he flat-out told her he didn’t know how to do it. I stared, completely dumbfounded. My brain refused to connect the dots. Ryan, meanwhile, shoved his suitcase into the closet, and then grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward my room. When we got there, his eyes swept over the neatly arranged space. His brows furrowed. “Who set all this up for you?” “I did,” I said, louder than I meant to. I was about to add, I’m not helpless, you know, but the words caught in my throat. For a second, I froze. Back when we were together, I used to pretend I couldn’t do anything—playing the damsel, acting all pitiful—so he’d take care of everything. And it worked. He never complained. But now, Ryan’s expression shifted. His tone was sharp. “You know how to do this? You’ve been lying to me this whole time?” Oh, crap.

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On a reality TV show, the guests were assigned to feed animals at the zoo. I was supposed to feed the monkeys. I held a small bucket and extended a banana in a friendly manner. The monkey yelled at me, “Get lost, you idiot!” I ate the banana myself and engaged in a heated argument with the monkey for two hours. Bystanders were stunned, the director was shocked, and so were the viewers watching the live stream. My name is Eloise Quinn. In my junior year of college, I was spotted by a talent scout and filmed a commercial. Among a group of beautiful girls with oval faces, I quickly stood out with my distinctively round face. The internet made me, and I became the so-called national sweetheart. The internet also ruined me, as I was falsely accused of being a two-faced bitch and a homewrecker. The reason was simply that Luke Young, a male actor I had worked with, drunkenly confessed his love for me in public, which was caught by paparazzi. The actor’s girlfriend was Wendy Sullivan, the daughter of Sullivan Group. She relentlessly pursued me, spreading rumors, throwing dirt, and launching an online bullying campaign. I’m sorry, I’m useless, I’m weak, I couldn’t bear the overwhelming malice. Under pressure from Sullivan Group, I was shelved by my company, Millennium Entertainment, and stripped of my right to speak on the internet… I chose to plan a grand finale with my death.

Standing on the 20th-floor rooftop of Sullivan Group, I held an amplified megaphone. “Bastards! You’re all bastards! You’re trying to drive me to death!” It was the peak of rush hour, and soon a crowd gathered below. “I’m Eloise Quinn, I’m not a homewrecker! I’m not a two-faced bitch!” The crowd below was in chaos, seemingly shouting something. I couldn’t hear them. They didn’t have megaphones. The wind on the rooftop was strong. I opened my mouth wide and roared. The wind rushed into my mouth, making me feel a bit nauseous. I cried and retched at the same time. Paparazzi, alerted by the commotion, set up their cameras. The flashes were dazzling, even in broad daylight. “Ugh— You’re all bullying me! I swear to God! I’ve never done anything wrong. Those who hurt me recklessly, I curse you with my life, may you all die a horrible death— ugh—” Soon, police cars arrived with their sirens blaring. They set up an air cushion below, but jumping from the 20th floor, even an air cushion wouldn’t help. If the posture was wrong, death was inevitable. People from Sullivan Group emerged behind me. A man in a suit extended his hand: “Miss Quinn, please calm down. We can negotiate whatever you want.” I recognized him, the head of the marketing department of Sullivan Group. He was the one who led the online attacks against me. He was afraid I would die here. “Scum! Bastard! Sullivan Group, you’ll go bankrupt sooner or later!” I shouted into the megaphone, my saliva splattering on it in excitement. “Ah, don’t come closer, don’t push me! Help—” I stared cruelly at the marketing head with a smile, then leaped off. You’re good at throwing dirt? I’ll cover you in dirt even with my death!

Death is a long moment of stillness. The first twenty-three years of my life unfurled before me like a scroll. “How pathetic, my descendant is such a disgrace.” An old, sighing voice sounded. A red-haired old man in a crimson robe appeared before me. Calling him an old man didn’t seem quite right; his face was weathered, but his muscles were well-developed, resembling King Kong. “I am the Wild Boar Spirit. In past ages, I was the one who cursed others. How times have changed, for my descendant to be cursed like this by others.” The muscular old man snorted coldly at me, “Well, I’ll pass on my ultimate skill to you. Don’t waste it.” With that, a red light shot into my forehead.

When I opened my eyes again, I smelled the pungent odor of disinfectant. It was a hospital. Accompanied by nurses’ screams of “She’s alive! She’s actually alive!”, a bunch of doctors in white coats rushed into the ward. “It’s a medical miracle! Her heart stopped for five minutes, and she’s still alive!” “Quick, hook her up to the machines! I need to write an eight-thousand-word report on this.” “Dr. Li, please calm down, take it easy.” Following a young doctor’s words, an elderly man with graying hair excitedly stared at the machines, fiddling with them. He announced: everything was normal. Then, he himself fainted. Later I learned that Dr. Lee, in his sixties, had worked tirelessly for sixteen hours without sleep to save me. Life is so precious in the eyes of these medical staff, yet I had taken it lightly. I regretted it, I felt ashamed. However, more than that was anger. If anger could turn into flames, it would surely burn the entire Sullivan Group to ashes.

Soon after I woke up, the hallway outside my room was surrounded by reporters. I mustered up my courage, put on a “dying but still persevering” makeup, and opened the door. “Hello, Miss Quinn, what do you think about making the front page of the social news?” “Miss Quinn, are you putting on a show or making threats?” “Miss Quinn, do you have a secret relationship with Luke Young? Are you a homewrecker?” The more you say, the more mistakes you make. The less you say, the fewer mistakes you make. Say nothing, and you make no mistakes. I fell headfirst onto the nearest reporter’s DSLR camera – the one who had been shouting the loudest insults. She was startled and hurriedly protected her camera. But other reporters caught this on camera, and the next day, an unreliable tabloid reported: “Shocking! Eloise Quinn Faints in Public, Look What Happened to Her!” The cover photo was of the reporter pushing me away to protect her camera. An eye for an eye, I’ll get my revenge and be done with it.

After recovering, I returned to my apartment to recuperate, only to find a middle-aged couple standing at the door of the small room rented by my company. They were hunched over. The man was holding a mud-stained sack, and the woman was holding a familiar thermos. It was my parents. I threw myself into their arms and burst into tears. Since the incident, I hadn’t shed a single tear, but seeing them, my tears broke through the dam. “Child, how could you do such a thing!” My parents cried while scolding me. I felt a bit wronged and was about to explain that I wasn’t a homewrecker, that I hadn’t done anything wrong, when Mom gently tugged at my ear: “Why did you want to end your life? It’s better to live a hard life than to die.” “Your mom is right! If you can’t make it in the city, you can always come back home and inherit our small supermarket at the village entrance!” Dad put the sack down at the entrance and started taking things out. “You’re so foolish!” “Your mom is right! Honey, give the child that ginseng soup before you scold her.”

After eating, my parents said they wanted to take me back to our hometown. I said no, I wasn’t ready to give up. I wasn’t ready to leave with this identity, bearing this kind of infamy. “Don’t worry, I have a plan,” I said. Dad said we need to use magic to defeat magic. We need to use capital to defeat capital.

I was invited to the CEO’s office of Blue Corp, Sullivan Group’s arch-rival. Sitting across from me was an elegant lady in her thirties. She thoughtfully had her secretary bring some stomach-soothing tea. “I’m sorry, Miss Quinn. My mother has a weak stomach, so my office always keeps stomach-soothing tea on hand.” This person is decent, I quickly concluded. People who are good to their parents are usually not bad people. “Shall we cooperate?” Ms. Blue smiled at me, not looking like someone in her thirties at all, but more like a mischievous little fox. Smart people don’t need to talk in detail. I firmly shook her hand: “Let’s cooperate.” She would give me resources and help me speak out, while I would expose all the bad things Sullivan Group had done. This was a win-win situation.

I was sent to participate in a challenging reality show that was live-streamed across the internet. The show had five guests, covering five areas: music, stand-up comedy, acting, internet celebrity, and ordinary person. Luke Young as a singer and Wendy Sullivan as an ordinary person also participated. As soon as the guests appeared, the bullet comments exploded. [What kind of large-scale drama is this?] [Isn’t Eloise Quinn a homewrecker? How dare a tainted artist come?] [The one above is outdated. Eloise Quinn has clarified, it was on the front page of social news. She might really have been slandered.] [This sister is brave, isn’t she here to fight?] [Homewreckers must die, right?] [I’m here to see the sweet love between the male artist and the rich daughter, I’m satisfied.] Luke Young secretly glanced at me twice, then lowered his head. Wendy Sullivan glared at me fiercely, but restrained herself due to the cameras. She stepped forward, effectively separating me from Luke Young. The host arrived fashionably late, holding a handful of task cards. She waved them at us: “Come and draw your task cards, everyone.” She took the opportunity to advertise: “Hello, dear audience. Thanks to our generous sponsors, choose your favorite guest and vote for them!” “Today we’ve come to the zoo, where our guests will spend a delightful day with the adorable animals.” I looked at the task card in my hand and fell into deep thought. Task One: Feed the monkeys.

I ran to Monkey Hill with a basket of fruits and vegetables. A golden-haired monkey with a red face shouted at me from behind the fence. The strange thing was, I could understand what it was saying! Had I gone crazy, or had the world gone mad, or had the monkey gone insane? It said: “Another ugly, hairless human is here.” I stared at the cameraman in surprise, but he showed no strange reaction. Instead, I saw dense bullet comments flooding the screen. [Hahaha, they actually let a beauty feed the monkeys.] [Are these the monkeys from Mount Emei? They look fierce.] [Just quietly watching what tricks the homewrecker will pull.] [What are you pretending for, with that two-faced look? Is feeding monkeys beneath you?] Responses echoed from Monkey Hill. “We can tease humans again.” “This time I’m going to hit a human’s nose hard.” “I’m going to steal the human’s bag and give it to Sasha.” Me: ??? Trembling heart, Parkinson’s hands. I extended a banana, trembling and trying to be friendly. The largest monkey in the group roared: “Get lost, you idiot.” That set me off. I peeled the banana and shoved it into my mouth in three seconds, letting the monkey curse at me for two hours. “If you don’t eat it, I will!” I shouted at the monkey. The monkey group exploded. Although to others, they were just making meaningless howls; to me, they were cursing very dirty. As expected of those who slipped through the cracks of nine years of compulsory education, they had no manners at all. The largest monkey king was so excited that his saliva almost sprayed on my face, while the other monkeys even wanted to rush out and beat me. I gloated: “Come on, come and hit me if you can. You can’t reach me.” “What do you mean by ugly, hairless humans? Those with hair are ugly, you’re the ugly ones!” The more I spoke, the angrier I got. I put down the fruit basket, put my hands on my hips, and argued with a group of monkeys opposite me. “Don’t you have a mirror to look at yourself? What? You don’t know what a mirror is? It’s something invented by great and intelligent humans, your IQ probably isn’t enough to understand it, right?” “So monkeys all like to eat shit, no wonder your mouths are full of crap!” This isn’t right, my mouth has a mind of its own, my mouth is out of control! I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing! After arguing for two hours, I battled the group of monkeys verbally, undefeated. Suddenly, the monkey king let out a mournful cry to the sky and respectfully bent his back. “You win. From today on, you are the new monkey king of our group.” Me: ???

I glanced at the bullet comments, which were full of “Hahaha”. The atmosphere had changed from “What is this woman thinking? Arguing with monkeys? Is she trying to create some strange persona?” to “Is Eloise Quinn here to be funny? Can someone really argue with monkeys?” Now, the bullet comments were developing in a strange direction. [This Eloise Quinn woman has got something.] [Look, the monkeys are bowing to her.] [Live version of ‘The Birth of the Monkey King’.] [I’m honored to witness the birth of the Monkey King, all hail the Monkey King!] [Hahaha this woman is killing me.] [For those who don’t understand and are asking, are those people calling Eloise Quinn a two-faced bitch using it as a compliment for her fighting ability?] [I may be a two-faced bitch but I can argue with monkeys for two hours and become the new Monkey King.]

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, please bestow food upon us.” Voices rose from the monkey group. I hesitantly threw a few fruits in. The monkeys excitedly went to catch them. Half a day passed, and all the vegetables and fruits were fed. The atmosphere was peaceful and quiet. The zoo director came over and excitedly shook my hand: “Miss Quinn, would you be willing to work at our zoo?” “Good benefits, good treatment, five insurances and one fund, and a permanent position,” he added. Thanks for the invitation. Later I found out that this group of monkeys were wild monkeys from Mount Emei. They usually bullied the keepers and even dared to beat up tourists. They had a bad reputation, but were also second-class protected animals.

I’m dumbfounded. I originally wanted to participate in a live reality show to directly expose the scumbag with evidence on the show, but unexpectedly I went viral? And in such a strange way. I don’t know why I can suddenly understand monkey language. Is it because of the muscular old man who appeared in front of me on the day I jumped off the building?

The first episode has been recorded, and I took some time to catch up on the bullet comments. After feeding the monkeys, my second task was to bathe them. For me, who had already become the Monkey King, it was of course a piece of cake. Under my orderly command, each monkey washed itself clean. I led the cameraman into Monkey Hill and enjoyed the treatment of a king. When I sat at the highest point of Monkey Hill, looking down on everything, the bullet comments were saying: [Are you King Kong?] [King Kong, go fight Godzilla!] In just one day, I made three trending topics. Actually, it’s not that I’m amazing, it’s mainly due to the contrast with my peers. Wendy Sullivan and Luke Young’s performances were too controversial. Wendy Sullivan clung to Luke Young the whole time, acting coquettish and asking for hugs. However, this is reality, not an idol drama. Wendy Sullivan became the new representative of “cringeworthy behavior”. “Brother, I don’t want to feed the peacocks. I’m afraid of birds with sharp beaks,” Wendy Sullivan clung to Luke Young’s neck. The bullet comments were a mess. [So cringy.] [I came to watch their love story, not to watch them get it on.] [This is a zoo! Not a bedroom!] [Don’t say that, I’m a stray dog and I love to watch, bring it on!] [Everyone go to Eloise Quinn’s live stream! She’s become the Monkey King!] Whoosh, a large chunk of bullet comments disappeared. Probably all gone to my live stream.

“Miss Quinn, I really didn’t expect to see this side of you on the internet,” Ms. Blue said. I lowered my head embarrassedly. The development of events had exceeded my expectations. “I have a question, can you really understand what the monkeys are saying?” Ms. Blue asked. I instinctively shook my head. Being able to understand animal speech and all that, I was afraid of being taken away as a specimen. Ms. Blue shook her head disappointedly, but her eyes were fixed on me: “Ah, I thought I had met a kindred spirit, like someone who had awakened a beast bloodline or something.” My heart shook, and I blurted out: “You too?” Ms. Blue smiled: “Good vigilance. It’s not me, it’s my brother.” As soon as she finished speaking, there was a knock on the door, and a young man walked in. I looked up and was immediately captivated by a pair of eyes. What bewitching eyes they were, slightly upturned at the corners, with a hint of red. The pitch-black pupils were like whirlpools, with deep blue oil-like light dancing inside. I suddenly jolted: “What a fox spirit!” Then I came to my senses. Standing in front of me was a young man. To describe this man as handsome would be an insult. “How did you know?” He was startled and took a small step back. What did I know? I thought back, fox spirit? “Hello, my name is Silas Lewis. I’ve awakened the bloodline of the nine-tailed fox beast,” the young man glanced at me. How to describe this glance? One glance for a thousand years. With this glance, I had the illusion that I had known him for tens of thousands of years. I’ve already decided where we’ll be buried together in this life.

Ms. Blue left the office to me and Silas, and very thoughtfully closed the door. “What beast bloodline did you awaken?” Silas asked. I answered honestly, it was a wild boar. He gave me a comforting smile. “That’s good,” he said. Don’t think I didn’t see that! You were secretly laughing just now, weren’t you! “I awakened when I was ten, so I’ve done some research on awakening,” Silas explained. “Actually, many humans carry gene fragments of these beasts in their genes, but most people’s special genes won’t be expressed.” “The expression of these genes is what we call ‘awakening’. Those who awaken will possess a special ability, which I call ‘skills’ and ‘passives’.” I thought for a moment: “It sounds like a game.” “Exactly, but unfortunately the sample size is too small. In all these years, besides myself, you’re the only awakened person I’ve met.” His eyes looked at me intensely, like a fox staring at its prey. I fled in panic.

To figure out what my “skill” and “passive” were, I went to a pet store. Strangely, I couldn’t understand the meows and barks of cats and dogs. But when I passed a dog cage, a dog barked at me loudly: “What are you looking at! Human! Watch out or I’ll scratch you.” Suddenly, I had a bold guess: it seems that I can only understand other creatures when they’re cursing at me. Just as I was lost in thought, my mouth went out of control: “Just looking at you, come out and scratch me if you dare!” I hurriedly covered my mouth and stepped back. Well, I think I know my “passive” now: I can never lose an argument. Why does Silas’s skill allow him to charm any creature, with a passive of uncontrollably charming any creature, while mine is arguing with others?

During the second episode, the location was set at Sullivan Group. Before the broadcast started, Wendy Sullivan blocked my way and gave me a malicious smile: “Eloise Quinn, what do you have to fight against me!” How dare she speak to the Monkey King like this! In my eyes, Wendy Sullivan was just a spoiled and stupid elementary school student. Arguing with her was both meaningless and a waste of time. But my mouth wouldn’t back down: “I’ll fight you with my life. If you push me too far, I’ll drag you down with me.” I approached Wendy Sullivan and pulled a creepy smile. “You… you psycho.” Wendy Sullivan stepped back in fear. “I’m going to tell my daddy!” See, I told you she’s an elementary school student. Go ahead and tell. Someday, your dad won’t be able to protect you anymore. You’ll have to pay a painful price for your mistakes eventually.

The theme of the second episode was office workers, and the guests had to complete various tasks assigned by the boss. I was assigned to the sales department. While others were sitting in the office, I couldn’t help but look up at the cameraman and give an apologetic smile: “I’m sorry, you’ll have to run around with me again today.” The cameraman gave me an “OK” hand sign, then shook his camera. A flood of bullet comments poured in. [Up close, Eloise Quinn’s face really can withstand high-definition cameras!] [Is it just me, or does sister Eloise seem so sad and wronged?] [She must have been targeted by a certain rich girl. Everyone else gets to sit in the office, while she has to run around.] [I don’t know if anyone noticed, but Eloise is wearing the high heels provided by the show. She has to run around all day, just thinking about it is scary.] There were those who sympathized with me, and of course, those who disliked me. [Not everyone is born a princess like Wendy.] [Being poor is a sin, who told you to offend the capitalists?] [A homewrecker, coming to the territory of the rightful girlfriend, still prancing around?] [Eloise Quinn is really playing the moral high ground card. Does she think jumping off a building can cover up the fact that she’s a homewrecker?] The harsher they curse now, the more I’ll make them regret it in the future.

After getting ready, I arrived at the sales office and changed into the sales uniform. Soon, a customer came – a muscular, tattooed guy. The other salespeople quickly pushed the customer towards me. I enthusiastically went to greet him. After looking at the house plans, I was about to take the keys to show the guy around. Unexpectedly, a thin, small girl walked over and pinched the tattooed guy hard: “You said you came to look at houses, but you’re here to look at pretty girls, aren’t you!” Then she stared at me with hostility. “You must be Mrs. Gold? Hello.” I confidently went up to her. “Mr. Gold just looked at many house plans, I have them all here. Would you like to take a look now?” You can’t judge people by their appearance. Although the man looked fierce and the woman was petite, based on my experience, the one in charge at home must be the woman. “Mrs. Gold, look, these two houses are quite nice. They face the sun on three sides and have large balconies…” The tattooed guy was left alone on the side. The other salesgirls nearby had a look of watching a good show, seemingly waiting for the tattooed guy to explode. Unexpectedly, the tattooed guy looked at his wife adoringly, without saying a word. After a while, as if bored, he gruffly said to the other salesgirls in the distance: “Bring two glasses of water.” Soon, two glasses of warm water were brought over tremblingly. “Mrs. Gold, your husband is really gentle and considerate,” I whispered to the girl. She immediately blushed: “You’re the first one to say that. Everyone around us was against us being together. We’ve been married for eight years now, and he’s always been very good to me.” Their eyes met, and the tattooed guy pursed his lips, looking even fiercer, enough to make a child cry: “You’re my woman, of course I’m good to you.” If it weren’t for his ears turning red, I might have been scared too. “Let’s go take a look at the house,” I took Mrs. Gold’s hand. On the way, Mrs. Gold asked me happily: “Are you filming a show? Why is someone always filming you? Are you a celebrity?” I nodded. “You’re so pretty, and so nice. You must be very famous. I can’t believe I just got out of the hospital and met a big star.” I patted her hand and mouthed to her, avoiding the camera: “I will be in the future.” Five minutes later, we sat in a tour car to the new house. It was a large flat, 240 square meters, luxuriously decorated. I took the couple around, and the cameraman also did close-ups of the house. Mrs. Gold said with a smile: “It looks suitable, I’ll buy it. The commission should go to you, right?” The tattooed guy frowned but didn’t say anything. I said: “Don’t buy it. This is my first time seeing this house too, and it’s not good.” Hearing this, Mrs. Gold looked at me puzzled, and the tattooed guy was also a bit surprised. “This house was terrible,” I said.

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I Just Returned to my hometown, and a Male Classmate I Haven’t Seen in Years Confessed to Me—With His Wife Right Behind Him ### The moment I stepped off the plane, a college classmate I barely knew threw her arms around me. “Dorothy! I’ve missed you so much!” she exclaimed dramatically. Before I could even process what was happening, another woman stormed over and slapped me. Hard. Several times. “You home-wrecking tramp!” she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. Then, she turned to the man standing nearby and demanded, “Brandon, this is the ‘overtime’ you were talking about?” I was lying on the ground, stunned. My cheek throbbed, but something even stranger happened—flashes of text appeared in front of my eyes, like a scene out of a glitchy video game: “Wow, those slaps were iconic! Queen energy!” “The ‘perfect ex’ is giving major manipulative vibes!” “Uh-oh, the second female lead is about to wake up!” That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t me. I was the tragic second female lead in a romance novel. Apparently, I was the so-called “first love” of the male lead, the one everyone loved to hate. Well, no thanks. I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed 911, my voice trembling with faux panic. “Officer, please help me! I’m being assaulted!” The male and female leads froze, staring at me in disbelief. The woman gawked. “Wait, what? This is just… a relationship dispute.” The man stammered, “How did this escalate to… a criminal case?”

When the police arrived, they took one look at the bright red handprint on my face and immediately escorted both Brandon and Lydia to the station. After gathering all the details, the officers concluded that my injuries didn’t meet the threshold for serious harm. Their verdict? Either Lydia paid me compensation privately, or she’d face five days in detention. Brandon turned to me with a pained expression. “Dorothy, are you okay? Does it hurt?” As he reached out to touch my face, I slapped his hand away, irritated. Lydia, his wife, was livid. “But she’s a homewrecker! Am I not allowed to slap the woman trying to steal my husband?” And then, like clockwork, those strange floating words appeared again: “This ‘perfect ex’ really isn’t easy to deal with.” “She’s the one ruining someone’s marriage, and now she has the audacity to call the cops?” “Girl, just divorce him and let this trashy couple be together!” I frowned and said coldly, “I don’t want her money. Go ahead and detain her.” Without waiting for their reaction, I walked out of the station, leaving the chaos behind. I thought that would be the last time I’d ever have to deal with those two. But that same evening, I was added to a group chat. To my annoyance, Brandon was in it—along with a few of his old college buddies. Brandon immediately started apologizing profusely, flooding the chat with messages about how much he cared for me. His friends chimed in like a chorus, egging me on to forgive him. “Come on, Dorothy, give Brandon a break! Everyone knows how much he loves you.” “Yeah, he’s been into you since college—he’s waited for you all these years!” “Now that you’re back, maybe it’s time to give him a chance?” Their words made me suspicious. I opened my chat history with Brandon, trying to make sense of it all. Back in college, I was part of the student council, so I had everyone’s contact info—but I barely remembered talking to him. When I scrolled through our message history, memories came rushing back. Brandon was that guy. The one who had arranged a giant heart made of rose petals outside my dorm building. At the time, I’d been completely caught off guard. My only thought was to get back to my room before anyone noticed, but his friends had blocked my way and dragged me into the middle of the petal heart. Surrounded by a crowd of classmates chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” Brandon had confessed his feelings to me in front of everyone. I felt so cornered. Looking at this guy I barely knew, I politely declined. “I’m sorry, it’s not you. It’s me—I’m just not ready for a relationship right now.” After that, I muted his messages and never thought about him again. Now, scrolling through our years of one-sided chats, I realized he never stopped texting me. And the message he sent most often? “I’ll wait for you. When you’re ready to date, we’ll be together.” Back in college, I had turned Brandon down politely because of all the classmates watching. I never imagined he’d interpret that as me asking him to wait for me. For a moment, I genuinely couldn’t comprehend how some men’s minds work. If subtlety didn’t get through to him, it was time to be blunt. I typed a message into the group chat: “I don’t like Brandon. Please stop bothering me about him.” Then, without waiting for a response, I left the group. But soon, I realized it wasn’t about how I phrased my rejection—whether polite or direct. Some people will always twist your words into the version they want to hear. The next day, I went to my father’s company. The reason I had returned to the country was because of my father’s declining health. As his only child, I needed to step in and take over the family business. I hadn’t expected to run into Brandon outside the office as he was leaving for the day. The moment I spotted him, I quickened my pace, silently praying he wouldn’t notice me. Of course, things didn’t go my way. “Dorothy!” he called out, his voice overly cheerful. “Do you work here too?” I let out a small sigh of relief—at least he didn’t seem to know this was my father’s company. “No,” I replied quickly, “I’m just passing by.” He gave me a long look, then smiled. “I’m the director here.” I had no idea why he thought I’d care, but I nodded politely, hoping to end the conversation. No one had asked, but sure, Brandon, go ahead and brag. Sensing the awkwardness, he quickly turned to the little boy holding his hand. “Xavier, say hello to Miss Dorothy.” Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any worse, he added, “This is the Dorothy I told you about. Isn’t she beautiful?” That’s when it hit me—he had a kid. I turned to leave, unwilling to be part of this absurd scene any longer. But as I walked away, the boy suddenly wrapped himself around my leg and declared, “Miss Dorothy is beautiful! Way prettier than Mommy!” I froze, glaring at Brandon. It was obvious he’d taught his son to say that. And then, those strange floating words appeared again: “Like father, like son! This family really is something else.” “Laugh now, kid. Just wait till your mom kicks you and your dad out—you’ll be crying then.” “Can’t wait to see both father and son groveling when the tables turn.” I peeled the boy off me and looked Brandon straight in the eye. “You have a family now. Stop trying to involve me in your life.” I continued firmly, “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t like you. If you keep bothering me, I won’t hesitate to call the police.” Brandon seemed stunned by my words. He didn’t say anything, just took his son and walked away. Since Brandon worked at my father’s company, I knew I’d run into him again eventually. I had prepared myself for that. But over the next few days, Brandon didn’t appear. Instead, his wife, Lydia, came looking for me. 3 I was sitting in a coffee shop near the office, working on my laptop, when Lydia suddenly appeared and plopped down across from me. Her eyes were red and puffy, and before I could react, she started crying. Loudly. “Dorothy, why can’t you just leave my family alone?” she sobbed, her voice trembling. Her dramatic outburst immediately drew the attention of the people around us. She didn’t seem to care about the stares, though. Instead, she leaned closer, tears streaming down her face, and continued: “You knew my husband works here, yet you still had to come to the same company?” “And it’s not enough that you’re stealing my husband—now even my son comes home saying you’re prettier than me! He calls me an ugly mom and says he wants you to be his new mom instead!” I stared at her, completely baffled. It was so absurd I didn’t even know where to start. Still, trying to keep my cool, I decided to be sympathetic—woman to woman. “Maybe your son’s behavior says more about Brandon than it does about you,” I said calmly. “Honestly, you should think about divorcing him. Brandon isn’t worth it, and staying with someone like him will only set a bad example for your son. If you’re not careful, he’ll grow up to be just like his dad.” The second I mentioned the word divorce, Lydia’s expression changed completely. Her tears stopped, and she sat up straight, glaring at me with suspicion. “You want me to divorce him, don’t you? So you can take my place? You’re unbelievable!” she spat, her voice sharp and accusatory. She shot up from her chair, her anger boiling over. “Let me tell you something, you homewrecker—people like you never get a happy ending. You think just because he calls you his ‘first love’ that he’ll still care about you once he marries you? Think again.” I couldn’t help but laugh, though it was more out of frustration than amusement. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t touch Brandon with a ten-foot pole.” “Besides,” I added, “I’ve only just returned to the country. I have nothing to do with him.” Lydia let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? Then why did you even come back? You were doing just fine abroad, weren’t you? What, you couldn’t resist the urge to chase after Brandon?” At this point, I was starting to lose my patience. “Look,” I said, trying to stay calm, “I didn’t come back because of him. I didn’t even tell him I was back. Maybe he saw it because I posted something on social media…” I trailed off as I realized how that sounded. It was like I was accidentally defending myself to her—falling right into her trap. I frowned and shook my head. “Whether I stay abroad or come back is my business. It has nothing to do with him.” But Lydia didn’t care about my explanation. To her, everything I said was just proof that I was provoking her. Without warning, she grabbed the glass of water in front of her and tossed it in my face. Water dripped from my hair and onto my clothes as Lydia leaned in one last time, her voice full of venom. “Just you wait. You’ll get what’s coming to you!” She stormed off, leaving me sitting there, wiping my face with a napkin. As I dabbed at the water, those strange text bubbles appeared again: “Yes! The female lead is finally fighting back! Rip that homewrecker apart!” “But seriously, why hasn’t she divorced the male lead yet? She knows he’s hung up on his ex!” “Oh, you poor innocent soul. If she divorces him now, she’s just letting these two trash bags win.” “Exactly. She needs to gather evidence, take the house, the car, and all his money. Make him regret everything!” I sighed, wondering how I’d managed to get tangled up in this mess. 4 When my close girlfriends found out I was back in the country, they insisted on throwing me a welcome-back party. After spending extra time getting ready, I arrived at the venue only to discover that Brandon and his group of buddies were also there. The moment Brandon saw me, he hurried over like an eager puppy. He poured me a drink, handed me napkins, and hovered far too close for comfort. I instinctively stepped away and made a point of sitting at the farthest corner of the table, putting as much distance between us as possible. Sensing my discomfort, one of my friends leaned over and explained with a grin, “Oh, Dorothy, you haven’t heard, have you?” “Yue is dating one of Brandon’s friends now!” It turned out one of my girlfriends was seeing someone from Brandon’s circle of friends. Since I hadn’t seen my friends in years, I didn’t want to ruin the mood, so I kept quiet and stayed polite. But Brandon’s buddies weren’t content to sit around—they suggested playing drinking games to “liven things up.” I lost several rounds in a row and ended up downing more drinks than I could handle. Just as I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, Brandon swooped in, grabbed my glass, and drank it for me. His friends erupted into cheers, teasing him about being such a “gentleman” and how he was clearly “protecting Dorothy like the treasure she is.” Meanwhile, I was holding back the urge to vomit—both from the alcohol and the sheer disgust I felt. Seizing the opportunity, Brandon slid into the seat next to me and even had the audacity to wrap his arm around my shoulders. “Dorothy,” he said softly, leaning closer, “you know how long I’ve loved you. I’ve been waiting for you all these years.” I immediately tried to push him away, glaring at him. “What do you mean, you’ve been waiting for me? You’re married! Do you hear yourself?” “And stop this self-delusional nonsense! Stop acting like you’ve sacrificed everything for me—it’s disgusting.” Before I could finish, I was shoved to the ground. Lydia had shown up, her phone camera flashing as she furiously filmed the scene. “I knew it! You just LOVE being a homewrecker, don’t you?” she shouted, her voice trembling with rage. Then she turned on Brandon, her fury spilling over. “And you, Brandon—what’s wrong with you? Is the food I cook at home not good enough? Does everything outside suddenly look better to you? You’re unbelievable!” Brandon instinctively reached out to help me up but quickly changed course when he saw Lydia’s escalating anger. He rushed over to calm her down, but it was too late. Lydia’s entire body was shaking. “I’m done, Brandon. I’m divorcing you!” she screamed. “And don’t think you’re getting off easy. You call yourself a ‘director’? Fine, but after the divorce, I want $10,000 a month in child support!” “Oh, and your car? Your house? They’re mine now too!” As soon as she finished her tirade, the strange floating words appeared again, filling the air like a live commentary: “YES! Finally! The female lead is divorcing him!” “Look at the trashy male lead’s shocked face—cue the ‘chasing-the-wife’ drama!” “Ha! So much for the ‘perfect ex.’ She’s about to get dumped, too!” I stood up, fists clenched, watching this chaotic scene unfold in front of me.

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I had just won $5 million in the lottery, and my husband Frank was planning to buy us a mansion. But on the day we moved into our new home, his ex-girlfriend Lily suddenly showed up with a child, crying that her husband had died and they had nowhere to go. Frank was overcome with sympathy and immediately invited her to stay in our master bedroom. Suddenly, there was an extra person in our marital bed – his ex-girlfriend of seven years. I exploded in anger, but he accused me of being heartless: “You know she’s a poor widow now. How can you be so cruel as to let them live on the streets? When did you become so cold-hearted?” My usually kind mother-in-law also changed her tune: “I’ve heard that rich men all have four or five wives. My son is rich now, so he can afford to marry another woman. By order of arrival, it’s only fair for you to be the second wife!” Seeing my husband nodding in agreement, I called my lawyer. He thought I had given in and happily showed his ex around our new mansion. But he forgot – I was the one who won that $5 million. I’d rather donate all that money than let him use it to support his mistress!

Just after I got off the phone with my lawyer, Frank suddenly appeared behind me, trying to persuade me: “If it wasn’t for picking you up from work back then, how would I have missed Lily’s wedding and caused her to marry that short-lived bastard? Now that her husband is dead and she has a child to care for, isn’t she struggling? If I don’t take care of them, who will?” Listening to Frank’s nonsensical logic, I was in disbelief. “What’s the point of letting her stay in the master bedroom? Are the three of us going to sleep together? Why can’t they stay at a hotel? Why do they have to live here and make everyone uncomfortable?” Lily might be struggling with a child, but wasn’t I struggling too, taking care of his mother and our daughter? Frank narrowed his eyes impatiently: “Amber, why have you become so unreasonable? Lily and I are long over. If it wasn’t for her husband’s sudden death leaving her unable to pay rent, I wouldn’t have let her move in. Why are you always targeting her?” Lily and Frank had dated from high school through college, a seven-year relationship that ended due to long-distance work. Less than two months after their breakup, Lily married a rich old man. I met Frank at a bar where he was drowning his sorrows. I thought he was handsome and loyal, and I liked him. Later, we ran into each other at work. Feeling it was fate, I added him on SnapChat. As we got to know each other, he gradually moved past his heartbreak, and we had a whirlwind wedding. I remember on our wedding day, he declared in front of all our family and friends that I had saved him from despair and was the only love of his life. But now, Frank would rather make me cry than turn away Lily and her child. Clutching my chest, I took a deep breath and said: “Are you sure you want Lily to move in?” Frank hesitated for a moment before gritting his teeth: “It’s not like I’m making her my wife. Why are you so angry? That child calls me godfather, so I have a responsibility to take care of them. Besides, now that I have money, only I can give Lily happiness.” He ignored my increasingly upset expression, still sympathizing with another woman. “She’s a widow now. How can I not worry about her being alone outside with a child? Moreover, we just won the lottery so we can afford to support them. Lily even said she’s willing to do all the housework, cooking, and childcare. What more do you want?” Only love could make him care for her so much and pity her so deeply. Frank seemed to have arranged the household duties – he would work outside while she managed the home. And I, the lawful wife, felt like an outsider who didn’t belong. Faced with this, I was full of disappointment, but I didn’t know what to say. Seeing me lower my head in silence, Frank’s tone became harsher: “You know she’s a poor widow now. How can you be so vicious as to let them live on the streets? When did you become so cold-hearted?” I looked up in disbelief, only to meet his furious eyes. There was no imagined guilt or apology towards me, only endless anger and disgust. At that moment, my heart turned to ashes, and I spoke softly: “Fine, she can stay as long as she wants.” Hearing this, Frank was slightly stunned, then smiled and said: “See, if you had been more understanding from the start, we wouldn’t have argued for so long. Come help Lily with her luggage.” I shook my head and refused: “I wish you two a happy life together. I’ll be staying at my mom’s for now.” Frank’s face immediately darkened as he quickly stepped forward to block me. “What do you mean by that?” “What else could I mean? I’m no longer interested in you.” I took our four-year-old daughter’s hand and walked past him towards the stairs, but my mother-in-law suddenly appeared. She glared at me angrily: “You want to take my granddaughter back to your mother’s house and let people gossip about my son? You’re not going anywhere. Stay put at home like a good wife!” I snorted coldly: “You mean you want me to stay home and serve the mistress?”

My mother-in-law stared at me disapprovingly: “Don’t use such harsh words like ‘mistress’. If we’re going by who came first, you’re the mistress!” “Rich men all have four or five wives. My son is rich now, so why can’t he support another woman? Lily is prettier and better suited for social occasions. You can just stay home and do the housework for us.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Winning $5 million and suddenly they think they’re on par with the truly wealthy? What are you comparing yourself to, with that underdeveloped brain of yours? I mocked her loudly: “Oh yes, you may be ugly, but you sure have big dreams!” My mother-in-law immediately flew into a rage, pointing her finger at my nose and cursing: “How dare you speak to me like that, you ill-mannered brat! You’ve lived in this new house for so long and still don’t know how to cook or follow the rules. My son really has bad luck marrying you!” Frank silently walked to his mother’s side, glaring at me coldly. Like mother, like son – they were cut from the same cloth. I put my hands on my hips and said coldly: “Didn’t your new daughter-in-law say she’d take care of all the housework? Let her do it!” Lily, who had just entered, heard this and started crying as if she had suffered some great injustice, running into the kitchen sobbing. Seeing this, Frank immediately became anxious. “All of you, stop talking! I’m just letting Lily stay here temporarily to take care of her. Amber, can you stop being such a jealous woman and targeting her? We have a child together, are you afraid I’ll rekindle things with her?” “If I really couldn’t let her go, would I have let you bear my child?” Hearing this, I was stunned, my nose stinging with unshed tears. “Fine, let her stay comfortably. I’m leaving.” My mother-in-law heard this and glared at me again, full of anger: “You ungrateful wretch! Lily arrived yesterday and immediately had her child call me grandma. She even massaged my legs and shoulders to show her filial piety. Look at that mute daughter of yours who can’t even speak!” My daughter is not mute. When she was little, she got lost while out shopping with my mother-in-law due to her negligence. I searched for a day and a night before finding my daughter. She had been curled up asleep in a garbage bin. The police checked the security footage and found out my daughter had been clever enough to hide in the bin to escape from kidnappers when they weren’t paying attention. But due to the psychological trauma, my daughter became withdrawn and couldn’t speak. My mother-in-law felt very guilty afterwards and doted on my daughter even more. When the neighbor’s child just made a face at my daughter, my mother-in-law scolded them until they cried. But now, one “grandma” from an outsider was enough to make her change her attitude completely, speaking harshly to us. Looking at the obvious disgust on Frank and his mother’s faces, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, yes, whoever wants to be the grandchild in this family can be. It has nothing to do with me anymore.” Frank wanted to have his cake and eat it too, but I had no intention of being his second wife. Whoever wanted to be a daughter-in-law in the Foster family could go ahead. As for me, I wouldn’t lower myself for such trash. Seeing my softened tone, Frank also lowered his voice to lecture me: “Look, if you take the child back to your mother’s house, won’t people gossip that I’m abusive or cheating? When your husband’s reputation is in tatters, will you be happy then?” I couldn’t help but sneer at Frank. Hadn’t he already cheated? Why keep up this pretense? But whenever I called Lily a mistress, he and his mother would act like proper people and accuse me of being narrow-minded and not understanding the rules. At this point, Frank took out his phone and transferred me $10,000, sighing: “I got a bit emotional earlier and shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. But aren’t you just making a fuss for some spending money? Now that I’ve given you money, I advise you to quit while you’re ahead and don’t push your luck.” “Also, control that jealousy of yours. Next time, I may not forgive you so easily.” In the past, whenever we argued, he would always end things by putting me down and then giving me money, saying he forgave me. I used to think that money not taken was wasted, so I wouldn’t make a big deal out of his provocations. But after marriage and having a child, he became increasingly overbearing towards me. Now I see that I should never have tolerated his repeated challenges and tests.

Ignoring Frank, I immediately picked up our child and headed downstairs, but Lily suddenly appeared at the front door. She had changed into a French maid outfit that accentuated her curves. She was proudly wielding a broom in front of me. The floor was indeed spotlessly clean. My mother-in-law was very satisfied with this sight and immediately clapped her hands in praise: “Lily is indeed beautiful and hardworking, unlike some women who don’t even know how to use a mop.” Lily gave Frank a flirtatious look and smiled shyly: “I just have a bit of OCD and always want to keep the house spotless, so the person I love can live comfortably.” Seeing her blocking the way, I pushed past her without changing my expression. “Excuse me, good dogs don’t block the road.” After all, some people who have been on their knees for too long find it hard to stand up straight. Seeing my harsh tone, my mother-in-law immediately showed her displeasure on her face. “Amber, look at how Lily has been cleaning since early morning, sweating profusely. You don’t even thank her for sharing the housework, and you keep humiliating her. You’re really a disgrace to us women!” Hearing this, I sneered: “She hasn’t paid me any rent or food expenses, and you expect me to be grateful just because she swept the floor? Is it your brain that’s not working properly, or have I gone crazy?” As soon as I finished speaking, Lily’s tears dropped to the ground with a plop. “I’m sorry… It’s just my bad luck that my husband… Frank, I should leave. I don’t want to cause misunderstandings with your wife.” Seeing Lily crying inconsolably, Frank immediately became furious: “That’s enough! Amber!” I rolled my eyes and shouted back: “Enough of what? This is just the beginning! I’m not the one who asked her to come to my house to sweep and do housework!” As soon as I finished speaking, my father-in-law suddenly rushed over and snatched the broom, throwing it to the ground: “What are you all arguing about!” The atmosphere instantly became tense. At this point, those three stood in a row, eyeing me – the outsider – like tigers watching their prey. From the moment Lily entered the house until now, they didn’t intervene when my mother-in-law was sarcastic towards me, nor when Frank yelled at me. But as soon as I raised my voice a little, they stepped in to stop me. When we got married, I gave Frank a car and a house as a dowry. My in-laws had repeatedly assured me that if Frank ever mistreated me, they would definitely teach him a lesson. They even told me to treat their home as my own and do whatever I wanted. But now, if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were a family of four! I snorted coldly, planning to send my daughter away first before dealing with this. Unexpectedly, Lily suddenly fell to her knees in front of me and said: “Amber, please don’t blame Mrs. Foster and Frank. If you must blame someone, blame me. It’s all my fault. If I wasn’t at my wit’s end, I would never have come to Frank’s house.” “I’ll take my child and leave now. We can sleep under a bridge if we have to. I don’t want to cause any more fights in your family.” Lily staggered to her feet, saying she would leave, but her body honestly leaned towards Frank. Frank made no effort to hide it, directly hugging her tightly from behind. “Amber, I really misjudged you. I’ve already said that Lily is just temporarily staying here with her child. You still want to drive them out to live on the streets? You’re a mother yourself, how can you not have any sympathy for them?” “If you want to vent your anger, vent it on me. What’s the point of bullying a widow and orphan?” Lily nestled in Frank’s arms with her back to him, her eyes full of undisguised triumph. Heh, Frank still hadn’t figured out who really couldn’t tolerate whom. My father-in-law chimed in: “Argue, argue, argue. You’ve been arguing non-stop since moving into the new house. You’ll scare away the God of Wealth at this rate!” Looking at the strangely united family in front of me, I couldn’t help but wonder if they would still be standing together so calmly without the $5 million I had won.

I nodded obediently at my father-in-law, pretending to be submissive. “Yes, Dad, you’re right. I don’t want to argue in front of the child either. But since there’s already a new daughter-in-law in the family, I’ll take my daughter to stay at my parents’ house for a few days.” The smugness in Lily’s eyes was about to overflow, but she still pretended to persuade me: “Sister, you can’t leave. How can I take care of Frank by myself if you go?” Frank was stunned for a moment, then looked at me impatiently: “What game are you playing now? Can’t you hear the child’s stomach growling with hunger? Hurry up and make dinner, and stop thinking about going back to your parents’ house to spite me!” I rolled my eyes, picked up my daughter, and walked towards our newly bought car. As I was leaving, I heard Lily cautiously advising Frank: “Sister loves you so much, how can you just let her leave like this?” Frank sneered coldly: “Don’t worry, she’ll come crawling back within three days. After all, she’s already fallen out with her family for my sake.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to myself. This was the man who once couldn’t bear to leave my side even when I had a slight fever. Now he knows I might not even be able to enter my family’s house. Yet he still welcomes his ex-girlfriend into our new home on the very first day, letting me leave without a care. This was a blatant test of my obedience. If I stayed any longer, who knows how this family would order me around and torment me in the future. They might even make me serve the mistress during her pregnancy! So when you encounter a scumbag, run! Run as fast as you can! Soon, I had my daughter settled in the passenger seat and loaded my luggage into the car. Seeing this, Lily came over again to put on an act: “Amber, don’t be angry anymore. Just apologize to Frank and it will all blow over. Why bother going back to your parents’ house in such a sorry state?” Frank stood by arrogantly: “Amber, think it through carefully. You can still bring your luggage back into the house now. If you can’t get into your parents’ house and end up on the streets with our child, don’t come back begging me!” I completely ignored the nonsense from these two. Satisfied with my stubborn expression, Lily went back into the house. After loading the luggage, I opened the car door and sat in the driver’s seat. Suddenly, Frank blocked the car door with his hand, his face gloomy: “Amber! Don’t regret this.” I snorted coldly and slammed the car door shut, finally getting rid of him. The next second, Frank’s phone rang. He looked down and was instantly shocked. He started banging on my car window frantically. “Honey, which bank card did you deposit the lottery winnings into?”

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I lie in a hospital bed, battling a severe illness, while my wife races to the airport to pick up her first love, who just returned from abroad. She spends her days drinking with him, picking fights, and chasing every reckless thrill they can find. She forgets our wedding anniversary entirely, and when she decides to end our child’s life, she keeps it from me—like I don’t deserve to know. Even when I end up in a car accident, broken and bleeding, she doesn’t bother to visit. Despair sets in, and on the operating table, I take my last breath. Only later, when the truth comes out, does she realize the depth of her betrayal. But by then, it’s too late—her regret consumes her, driving her to the edge of madness. Vanessa Frost and I had been married for five years, but between her relentless work schedule and constant traveling, the time we spent together could barely fill a day. This year, things finally seemed to take a turn. “Rowan, let’s start over,” she said. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake, imagining a future where we grew old together, content and in love. But everything unraveled again just as quickly. Yesterday, I was rushed to the hospital with a sudden case of appendicitis. The doctor said I needed emergency surgery. I called Vanessa over and over—no answer. Lying on that hospital bed, staring at the blank white ceiling, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Lately, she had been acting strange. She’d disappear without explanation and ignore my calls and messages. I opened our chat history. Message after message, all from me. The last one was sent just before I went into surgery. Rowan: [Honey, I’m in the hospital. The doctor says it’s appendicitis, and I need surgery. Can you come be with me?] No response. Maybe she was busy. Maybe she hadn’t seen it yet. I didn’t know. Hesitating, I sent another message. Rowan: [The surgery’s over now. You don’t need to worry.] Just as I put my phone down, a notification popped up—a friend request. I recognized the profile picture immediately. Ethan Wells. My wife’s first love. I didn’t know why he was trying to add me in the middle of the night, but I accepted anyway. He didn’t say anything. Instead, I clicked into his Instagram out of curiosity. One post caught my eye. Ethan: [When someone loves you, they’ll cross mountains and oceans to reach you.] The photo showed a woman standing in an airport terminal, her back to the camera. I knew that silhouette. It was Vanessa. The post had been uploaded at 10 PM, just ten minutes after I’d sent my last message. At that exact moment, I was on the operating table. And just like that, I understood why he had added me.

Before I saw that Instagram post, I had come up with every excuse I could think of to defend Vanessa. She must have been busy. Maybe she was caught up at work, or stuck in a meeting, or out for drinks with clients… It had to be work. That was why she didn’t reply. But that post shattered everything I’d believed. No wonder she hadn’t picked up. No wonder my texts went unanswered. Her first love was back in town. And I? I was the fool, lying there in a sterile hospital room, thinking she cared. My hand tightened around my phone, veins rising against my skin. I opened the dialer and stared at her number for what felt like hours, my eyes dry and aching. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to press call. I lay there, numb, scrolling through Ethan’s posts—punishing myself with every word. Unlike Vanessa’s spotless and empty page, Ethan’s feed was alive. He posted everything: random thoughts, moments from his day, reflections on life. The one thing they all had in common? A heart emoji at the end of every caption. He never mentioned her directly, but she was there in every post. Suddenly, I remembered how Vanessa always checked Instagram and how her mood would shift afterward. I used to ask what she was looking at, only for her to shut her phone and glare at me. “Don’t invade my privacy,” she’d said coldly. And I never asked again. I scrolled further and froze when I saw another post. Ethan announcing his engagement. He was leaving the country for good. That was the same day Vanessa turned to me and said, “Let’s start over.”

Ethan Wells. Vanessa’s college classmate and the love she could never let go. Back then, she practically revolved around him. If Ethan mentioned a favorite breakfast, Vanessa would cross half the city to bring it to him. They weren’t even in the same major, so she switched. Ethan liked clubs, so she learned to drink and smoke. Anything he liked, she made herself like too—no matter the cost. Everyone knew how far she would go for him. But they never ended up together. In his senior year, Ethan announced he was leaving the country to study abroad. Vanessa chased him all the way to the airport. No one knew what he said to her that day, but after she came back, she locked herself away for weeks. I was there for her through it all. And when she finally agreed to marry me, it felt like a miracle. Even on our wedding day, I couldn’t believe it was real. When I slipped the ring on her finger, I cried like a child. She didn’t love me the way I loved her—I knew that. But I didn’t care. People called me pathetic, a fool. But she was my exception. For years, I thought loving her was enough. But I started to realize… maybe it wasn’t.

The doctor came to check on me, frowning when he saw I was alone. “You need to call a family member to stay with you,” he said sternly. My parents had passed away years ago. Vanessa was all I had. I called her again. This time, her phone was off. I laughed bitterly to myself. What was I expecting? Ethan was back. Of course she didn’t care. So I called Ryan Hale, my oldest friend. He arrived not long after, stopping short when he saw me. “Rowan? Jesus, you look terrible.” One sleepless night had left me pale and hollow-eyed. “Where’s Vanessa? You’re in the hospital, and she’s not here? What kind of wife does that? She’s got you wrapped around her finger, man.” I stared at him, his anger echoing my own thoughts. Maybe he was right. My love—my blind devotion—had only made it easier for her to hurt me. I took a steady breath. “Ethan’s back.” Ryan froze, the apple he’d been peeling forgotten in his hand. “That bastard came back?” “I think I’m going to file for divorce.” Ryan’s face shifted, his mouth opening as if to say something, but he stopped. Finally, he muttered, “Maybe that’s for the best.” I already knew it was. I’d known for years that Vanessa never let Ethan go. Once, I’d brought her a coat she forgot at home. I found her at a friend’s gathering, and as I reached the door, I overheard her friend’s voice. “You’re married to Rowan, but you’re still hung up on Ethan?” Vanessa’s voice had been calm, almost cold. “It’s different. Ethan is Ethan. I’ll never forget him. Rowan? He’s just what I settled for.” I stood there, frozen, though I wore layers to keep out the cold. But nothing had ever felt so cold as that moment. That was when I knew—I would never be enough.

It wasn’t until I returned home from the hospital that I realized the truth. During the days I had been recovering alone, Vanessa hadn’t just ignored my messages and calls—she hadn’t even come home once. The house was empty, the furniture covered in a thin layer of dust. I sat there for a long time, staring at the lifeless space around me. She must’ve been having the time of her life these past few days. I pulled out my phone and opened Ethan’s Instagram again. The newest post was a video. The lights were dim, the music loud and distorted, the crowd twisting and swaying on a dance floor. Vanessa was there—pressed close to Ethan, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm to the beat. As the song ended, Ethan’s arm slid tighter around her waist. Vanessa tilted her head up, her gaze hazy, her expression soft. Her eyes were locked on him. Ethan leaned down and kissed her—deeply, completely—as though they were the only two people in the world. The video ended there, but I kept scrolling. More videos, more posts. They were everywhere. Dancing at nightclubs, drinking and brawling at street food stalls, racing motorcycles down empty roads in the dead of night. All the things they used to love when they were young. While I lay alone in a hospital bed, this was how she had spent her time—reliving her past with him. The thought was laughable. Vanessa was my wife, yet the only way I could see her was through another man’s Instagram feed.

I had just finished cleaning up the house when I heard the door unlock. I looked up and saw her walk in. She froze when our eyes met, clearly surprised to see me there. “You’re home? You got discharged already?” So she did know I had been in the hospital. For some reason, I’d assumed she hadn’t even noticed. I picked up a cloth and wiped the table again, pretending to ask casually, “Did you have fun these past few days? With Ethan?” She looked confused, like she hadn’t understood what I meant. “What are you talking about?” Without a word, I pulled out my phone, opened Ethan’s Instagram, and held it out to her. Vanessa took the phone and scrolled through it for a moment, and I watched as the color drained from her face—red to pale, pale to gray—until finally, in a burst of anger, she slammed the phone onto the table. And just like that, the biggest fight we’d ever had erupted. “Are you questioning me?” she shouted. “Yes! I was with Ethan these past few days. And you know what? I was happy—happier than I’ve been in years. These were the best days I’ve had in a long time. So what?” The calm I’d been holding onto shattered, replaced by a sharp, aching pain. I lifted my head to look at her, my voice quiet, broken. “Didn’t you say you wanted to start over with me?” She avoided my gaze, her voice faltering. “I did say that. But… I only said it because I thought Ethan wasn’t coming back.” I tilted my head back to stop the tears burning in my eyes. My voice was thick when I asked, “So that’s it? Now that he’s back, you’re just going to throw me away?” I pressed on, my words cutting through the silence. “We’ve been married for years. No matter what I do for you, no matter how good I try to be, I’ll never compare to him, will I? Even when I was sick, lying in a hospital bed, you thought picking him up at the airport was more important, didn’t you? Even knowing I was there, you still chose to ignore me, didn’t you?” Vanessa stood there, silent. Her silence was what hurt the most. It was always like this—me chasing, her refusing to turn around. “Even knowing how worthless he is, you still love him?” That did it. Her expression sharpened, her voice cold. “Enough. I don’t want to hear you talk about him like that. You don’t have the right.” That broke me completely. “Why?” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Why can’t you love me the way you love him? Even just a little. A fraction of what you give him.” I must’ve looked so pitiful—like a dog left out in the rain, crying and begging to be let back inside. Vanessa’s expression shifted. For the first time, I saw hesitation in her eyes. After a long pause, she said, “I just want us to part peacefully, Rowan. You know how I was after Ethan left. I’ve been miserable for so long. Now that he’s back, I don’t want to have any more regrets.”

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After being Klein Barrison’s secret lover for three years, I found out I was pregnant. He made it clear he didn’t like children and was preparing to marry a wealthy socialite of equal status. Not wanting to lose my child, I packed my things, took his money, and fled Rey City overnight. For four years, I raised my child alone, away from that world. My little one grew up stunningly beautiful that he accidentally went viral online. I started live-streaming with my son and managed to build a thriving career from it. When people dug into my background and realized I was a single mom, I had to save face by explaining, “Well, I’m widowed.” Life without a man turned out just fine. I gained a devoted following of independent women who admired my strength. Then one day, I noticed something familiar about the profile picture and IP address of the top donor on my streams. Looking closer, I thought, “No way. This can’t be real.” Klein? Watching short videos? With his uptight, serious demeanor? Impossible. But then he showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night. He cornered me against the wall, his eyes dark and dangerous, and growled through clenched teeth, “Widowed? Funny, I don’t recall dying.” He grabbed my son, Edmund Croft, by the collar, dragging him forward. His bloodshot eyes burned into mine as he demanded, “And what about this? Care to explain?”

My name was Labia Croft, and I used to be the secret lover of Rey City’s most prominent CEO, Klein. For three years, our arrangement had been… satisfactory. Until today. Holding my pregnancy report, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety as I went to his office to see him. Klein was still in a meeting, so his secretary told me to wait. As I sat in his office, my eyes fell on a bridal magazine lying near his computer. Since when did Klein start looking at wedding dresses? Could it be because I’d casually mentioned wanting to take wedding photos before? A small, hopeful flutter stirred in my heart. Maybe I did mean something to him after all. But then I caught sight of him through the office window, walking with a tall, elegant woman who clung to his arm. I recognized her immediately. I’d seen her photo in Klein’s private album before. It was his first love. My heart sank as I lowered my gaze and smiled bitterly. Of course. Klein would never remember something I said in passing. His true love was back, and he was choosing a wedding dress for her. Was he going to marry her? I grew up in a blended family. After my mom passed, my dad remarried and had a son with his new wife, leaving me to be raised by my grandfather in the countryside. When my grandfather suffered a stroke and became paralyzed, I took on the responsibility of paying his medical bills. By the time I was in college, I was supporting myself and him entirely. During my junior year, someone told me nightclub jobs paid well. What I could earn in one night there was equivalent to three or four days working at a café. Desperate, I applied and got a job as a server. That was how I met Klein. That night, he was drunk and heartbroken. I happened to be serving his private room. He pulled me into his suite, and the next morning, I could barely walk. My manager assumed I’d slacked off and ignored my duties all night. Without hearing me out, they fired me. I couldn’t explain the truth, nor did I dare to. So I asked Klein to compensate me for my lost wages. Surprisingly, he was generous and offered me a lucrative job instead: as his companion. If I kept him satisfied, I could earn tens of thousands a month. The arrangement was degrading, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t let pride stand in the way of survival. I’d already given Klein my first night; there was no point being sentimental about it. Besides, he was tall, fit, and ridiculously handsome, with bronzed skin and abs like a model straight out of an action movie. If I had to sleep with someone, it might as well be him. After two seconds of deliberation, I accepted. We signed a contract. Three hundred thousand a month, on the condition that I was at his beck and call. When we signed the agreement, he made one thing clear. “Don’t fall in love with me. I won’t take responsibility,” he said. He didn’t want love, and I pretended not to either. For three years, I played my part, hiding my feelings while we kept things strictly transactional. But now, the woman he truly loved had returned, and he was ready to settle down. He didn’t need me anymore. Not as a lover. Not even as a transaction. And to top it all off, I was pregnant. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I quietly folded the ultrasound report and slipped it into my bag just as Klein walked into the office. I looked up at him. He seemed immaculate as always, his tailored suit sharp against his cool, chiseled features. Sitting down at his desk, he asked, “What do you need?” I’d come to tell him about the pregnancy, but now… what was the point? He was getting engaged. Our arrangement was ending. There was no way he’d let me keep this baby. But after three years of being hidden in the shadows for him, I wasn’t the naïve girl I used to be. Besides, I knew I wouldn’t fall for another man. This baby might be the only family I’d ever have. And I wasn’t about to lose that. I walked over to Klein and poured him a glass of water, feigning ease as I made up an excuse. “I saw a jewelry set I liked.” Klein extended his arm, pulling me into his embrace. His deep, magnetic voice brushed against my ear. “What jewelry? Wasn’t the last set I bought you enough?” “Orvis just released a new emerald-diamond necklace. It’s not too expensive, just over 200 thousand. I really want it,” I replied playfully. “Have Mars take you to get it later,” he said without hesitation. Feigning delight, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Klein.” A barely perceptible smile played on his handsome features. His warm fingertips brushed across my cheek as his thick lashes lowered slightly. His gaze slid down to my lips, smoldering with suggestiveness. “That’s all you wanted?” As someone who had been his mistress for three years, I’d learned how to read his mind. Catching on immediately, I giggled softly, feigning shyness as I climbed onto his lap. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tilted my head upward to kiss him, cautiously yet seductively. Even when he was sitting still, his presence was overwhelming, exuding a quiet intensity. As our lips met, the faint scent of pinewood filled the air around him. Before long, he took control, tightening his hold on my waist and prying my lips apart with the heat of his tongue. Breath mingling, I could feel the warmth of his exhale against my skin, his restraint unraveling as he carried me into the lounge and pressed me onto the sofa. Just as he leaned over me, a sharp pang shot through my lower abdomen. The sudden discomfort jolted me back to clarity. Protectively cradling my belly, I pushed him away with all my strength. He frowned, his annoyance evident as he stared at me. “I… I’m on my period,” I quickly lied, offering an awkward smile. “It should be the next week, isn’t it?” His scrutinizing gaze pinned me down as if he could see right through me. Flustered, I forced myself to sound confident. “I’ve been staying up too late recently. My hormones are all over the place. Can’t I have an irregular cycle?” He sighed softly and shifted off me, a rare trace of complaint lacing his tone. “And yet you still tried to seduce me.” Adjusting his disheveled tie, he sat up and smoothed out his suit. I followed suit, fixing my own appearance, and hesitated before asking, “Klein, do you like children?” “No,” he answered without a second’s thought. The chill in my chest deepened. Of course. Then, lifting his gaze, he asked, “Why the sudden question?” Feigning nonchalance, I chuckled. My voice came out soft and slightly hoarse. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just ran into a lost little boy at my apartment earlier. He was adorable.” His eyes narrowed slightly, studying me. “You want a child?” “Not at all. I just think they’re cute. If I had to have one, I’d pass,” I replied casually. “Good,” Klein said coldly as he got up, straightened his suit jacket, and left the lounge. I trailed behind him, hurrying to leave the company. Once outside, my resolve solidified. I had to leave. Checking my bank account, I realized I only had 500 thousand. It wasn’t nearly enough. My grandfather was still in the hospital, and I had to ensure his medical bills were covered before disappearing. I had to leave my 500 thousand to him. After all, I wouldn’t come back until I gave birth to my baby a year later. So, I must get all the money I needed from Klein. This seemed to be an urgent mission that was impossible to complete. I was already pregnant, and it wouldn’t take long before my belly became obvious. My time with him was running up. After much consideration, I decided to sell all the jewelry and handbags Klein had given me over the years. At the shop, the owner appraised everything, tallying up the amount. “Five hundred thousand,” she said. Shock rippled through me. These were luxury items, some even limited editions that Klein had spent millions on. How could she only offer me 500 thousand? The owner explained that second-hand items depreciated significantly in value compared to gold, which retained its worth. Though disappointed, I gave her my account information and waited for the transfer. Once the money was in my account, I turned to leave. That was when a well-dressed, dignified middle-aged woman called out to me. Turning around, my stomach knotted. It was Klein’s mother, Marina. “Labia, are you that desperate for money? Looks like my son doesn’t treat you very well,” she sneered. “Not at all,” I murmured softly, overwhelmed by the oppressive aura of an elite matriarch. Instinctively, I wanted to walk away. “Wait,” Marina said, stopping me. “I need to talk to you.” In a nearby café, she casually slid a check across the table and said in disdain, “Klein’s engagement is imminent. Here’s a million. Leave him.” My heart leapt. I snatched the check eagerly, unable to suppress my joy. With this million, along with the 500 thousand I already had, I could start fresh with my baby. Marina’s eyes flickered, her expression shifting from scornful to mocking. “A million was all it took? I thought you’d demand far more.” I didn’t care about her opinion. All I could think about was the money in my hand. Now, I could leave Klein as quickly as possible. “Thank you, Mrs. Barrison. I’ll keep my word and ensure there’s no further…” “Nothing further between us?” A voice, as cold as ice, cut through the air. Turning my head, I froze. Klein’s flawless face loomed before me, his sharp features carved with an icy chill. My body stiffened as I inhaled sharply. “What kind of deal are we discussing?” Klein’s gaze flicked to the check in my hand. His lips pressed tightly together, his eyes filled with frost. I immediately looked down, avoiding his piercing stare.

Marina’s voice was sharp with arrogance. “See? This woman is willing to leave you for just a million. She’s only after our family’s money.” Klein let out a sneer, gripping my wrist tightly as he dragged me out to his car. Once inside, he turned to me, his gaze icy. “The check.” I didn’t dare make a sound and handed it over with trembling hands. Without hesitation, he tore the check into pieces, letting the scraps fall to the floor. My heart clenched at the sight, but I didn’t dare protest. Klein’s eyes darkened, his voice laced with mockery. “Feeling bad for it? Tell me, Labia, is that all I’m worth to you? Just one million?” My chest tightened, his words slicing through me. Was this supposed to be some grand act of wounded pride? The same man who once told me we were only a transaction was now upset that I treated it like one. He was the one getting engaged. What right did he have to scold me? I stayed silent. A million meant nothing to him, but to me, it was life-changing. I bit back my frustration, knowing I couldn’t afford to upset him just yet. The money wasn’t in my account. “You’re getting engaged, aren’t you?” I asked softly, my eyes filling with tears. I made sure I looked as pitiful as possible, a picture of heartbreak. Klein’s cold demeanor faltered. His eyes softened, guilt flickering in their depths. After a long silence, he finally muttered, “Maybe.” Maybe? That was laughable. He was clearly getting married, yet here he was, acting conflicted. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I forced a tremble into my voice. “We’ve been together for three years. I didn’t expect to feel so deeply for you, but I respect your decision. I just… hope you’ll be happy.” Now I had the upper hand, making him the one who needed to apologize. Klein’s guilt hit him in full force. His grip on me tightened as he whispered, “I’m sorry. “I know my mother is the one pressuring you to leave. But if there’s anyone who should compensate you, it’s me. I’ll transfer one million to you.” Yes! My guilt worked perfectly. Relief washed over me. The deal was still intact. We sat in silence for a while before he finally looked up, his expression hesitant. “How about… we break up next month?” Seriously? A scheduled breakup? What kind of person would treat relationships like a business calendar? Rage simmered beneath my calm exterior, but I forced it down. After all, the money wasn’t in my account yet. I leaned into him, playing the obedient, heartbroken lover. “Even though it hurts, I’ll do whatever you say.” Klein’s guilt deepened at my words. He brushed his cheek against mine, his voice soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

The next few days passed with me pretending nothing had changed, dutifully playing the perfect companion. Today was Klein’s birthday. He had a refined palate and would only eat the custom cakes from the Crown Hotel. Months ago, I’d secretly taken lessons from the hotel’s private kitchen to learn how to bake his favorite cake, hoping to surprise him. That morning, I headed to the Crown Hotel to make the cake myself. But fate seemed determined to toy with me. Before I even started, I ran into Christie Anderson, Klein’s first love. I instinctively turned to leave, but she spotted me immediately. “Labia, isn’t it?” she said, her tone carrying a hint of superiority. Since she knew who I was, hiding would be pointless. Someone of her status could uncover my identity with ease. “I didn’t think you’d know me,” I replied casually, picking up the baking tools and ingredients as if unfazed. “Are you making a cake for Klein?” she asked, her tone tightening when I didn’t give her the attention she wanted. “Mm-hmm,” I answered indifferently. “I’ve already ordered his birthday cake. There’s no need for you to make another. It’ll just go to waste,” she said with an air of authority. Her words lit a fire in me. “How do you know it’ll go to waste? He can eat yours during the day and mine at night. After all, he spends every night at my place. I’d say our relationship is far more intimate than yours.” Her face turned pale, then red. “How rude! How could Klein have anything to do with someone like you?” “And yet, here we are,” I shot back with a smirk. “If you have a problem, take it up with him.” Ignoring her, I returned to my baking, leaving her fuming as she stomped off. For the past three years, I’d been the one celebrating Klein’s birthday. Now that his first love was back, I was clearly no longer needed. But that was fine. If he didn’t eat the cake, I would. I’d been craving sweets anyway. Baking wasn’t easy. It took me over a dozen tries to get the decorations right, but I found the process oddly satisfying. The chefs were also patient, teaching me repeatedly. When I finally finished and brought the cake home, it was already late afternoon. Exhausted from the morning’s effort and my pregnancy, I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep immediately. When I woke, the sky outside was dark. A wave of loneliness swept over me as I lay in the quiet, empty house. Klein hadn’t come home. Of course, Christie was more important to him now. He was probably with her, celebrating his birthday, blowing out candles together. I closed my eyes, trying to will myself back to sleep. But then the mattress dipped beside me, and the familiar scent of pinewood filled the air. I opened my eyes to find Klein’s face inches from mine. “Awake?” His deep, magnetic voice carried a surprising warmth. “Were you planning to skip my birthday entirely?” His familiar yet distant face blurred as my chest tightened. My nose stung, and tears welled up in my eyes. I asked, my voice thick with emotion, “Why did you come back so late?” Klein raised an eyebrow. “I left work at 4:30 and came straight home. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. It’s already past six.” “I thought… you weren’t coming back,” I murmured. “Why wouldn’t I? You mentioned you had a surprise for me. Don’t tell me you didn’t prepare anything.” “Of course I did!” I exclaimed, quickly getting up. I went to the living room, opened the fridge, and pulled out the cake I’d worked so hard on. “Ta-da! I made this just for you. Isn’t it a nice surprise?” I asked with a bright smile. Klein’s gaze softened as he looked at the cake. “You put in a lot of effort, didn’t you?” “Of course! So, where’s my reward?” I teased, leaning closer playfully. “Later, I’ll have Mars transfer a million to your account,” he said casually, “and the title to this property as well.” My heart leaped at the unexpected bonus, but I kept my excitement hidden behind a facade of sorrow. “Klein, I don’t care about things like that,” I said, pretending to be emotional. He cupped my face gently and kissed me. “But I care. I want to make it up to you.” We ate the cake together, laughing and chatting, and ended up curled up on the couch watching a show. Klein, who usually only had a small piece of cake on his birthdays, surprised me by eating more than half this time. I lay with my head on his lap, gazing up at his perfect jawline. He might not be a good man, but he was undeniably the epitome of male beauty. As I thought about it, my hand instinctively moved to my flat stomach. If my baby inherited his looks, they’d surely be stunning. Klein had said he came straight home after work. Did that mean he didn’t spend his birthday with Christie? Could it be… I still had a place in his heart? The thought made my heart stir, and I couldn’t help but call his name. He was engrossed in the movie but still responded with a soft, indulgent grunt. “If I got pregnant… would you want the baby?” I asked tentatively. His focus finally shifted, and he looked down at me, placing a warm hand on my stomach. “You’re pregnant?” My heart raced at the sensation of his hand against me. “No… I mean, what if?” Klein thought for a few moments before answering. “I don’t want kids, and I don’t like them. But if…” I hung on to his every word, waiting for the rest of his answer. But just then, his phone rang, cutting through the moment. He glanced at the caller ID, hesitated briefly, then picked up. From the faint sound on the other end, I recognized Christie’s voice. My heart sank. Klein kept his tone neutral, speaking only a few words before hanging up. I couldn’t help but wonder. Had they argued? Was that why he came back to me? As if confirming my suspicion, Klein turned to me after the call and said, “Labia, I need to stop by the family estate. Don’t wait up.” I forced a lighthearted “Okay” as he left, the sound of the door closing echoing in the silent apartment. He was probably going to be with Christie now.

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As Emma, my girlfriend, received the Best Esports Coach award, she tearfully said she wanted to thank her love. Just as I was about to step onto the stage, Jack, her newly recruited player, beat me to it. He embraced Emma and taunted me, “Captain, I’ve always respected my seniors, but don’t you think some old-timers should know when to step down?” Emma didn’t refute him. Instead, she praised his ambition and hung the medal around his neck as if they were a couple. The whole audience cheered for this esports power couple. But I just smiled, tossing the captain’s badge directly to Jack. I applauded and said, “You’re right. You’re the captain now. Don’t disappoint everyone at the World Championship.” My words left everyone in the room stunned. They all knew about my injured hand, how I had competed multiple times while on painkillers, risking everything. They also knew how dedicated and responsible I was as a captain. On stage, Jack fingered the edge of the captain’s badge, smirking as he pushed further, “What’s the use of this captain position to me? Ryan, don’t you think you’re too old and slow now? You’re holding the team back.” I knew what he meant. He wanted me to quit the competition altogether. In his youthful arrogance, he believed the team’s successive victories were all thanks to him. But Emma knew better than anyone who had elevated this ordinary team to the World Championship. Yet now, Emma just hid behind Jack, her eyes dark as she silently clenched her fists, not saying a word. Seeing her awkward state, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at myself. Three years ago, I could have become the first person in esports history to lead a team to the World Championship title with an undefeated record. But to save Emma from being hit by a car, I injured my hand, ending my professional career. Some even accused me of faking the injury to avoid competition. Back then, Emma hugged me, crying her eyes out, saying she owed me and would spend her life by my side. From that day on, she said she would be my hands. Six months ago, she asked me to make a comeback. I finally led the team to the World Championship stage, and she successfully won the Best Esports Coach honor. Yet now, at a time like this, she didn’t say a word in my defense, allowing Jack to mock and ridicule me. Coming back to my senses, I took a deep breath, rolled up the sleeve of my right arm, revealing the ugly, centipede-like scar extending from my wrist to the back of my hand. I casually told everyone, “Well, my old injury has flared up. I won’t be holding you back in the competition anymore.” With that, I turned and left the venue. The weather was bad today, and my wrist was throbbing with pain, cold and sore to the bone. To make my comeback, I had trained twice as hard, disregarding my injury. I was already at my limit. I knew that with my current injury, even if I made it to the finals, my hand would be ruined by then. I reached into my pocket, intending to take another painkiller, but my fingers touched a velvet box instead. Taking out the box, inside was a shimmering diamond ring, reflecting tiny sparkles of light. Originally, I had planned to propose to Emma today, but it seems that was all for nothing now. I probably wouldn’t need it in the future either. I lowered my eyes and walked to a trash can, about to throw the diamond ring away. From behind, Jack’s sarcastic voice came: “Oh, come on, you weren’t planning to propose to Emma, were you?” I turned around, facing Jack’s undisguised malice and mockery. “Emma is the Best Esports Coach, with a long future ahead of her. Ryan, what about you? A has-been who should have completely left the esports world three years ago, do you think you’re worthy of proposing to her?” Emma saw the diamond ring in my hand, her pupils suddenly constricting. She was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, “You shouldn’t have quit the competition out of anger. I’ll tell everyone later that you were just joking earlier.” Seeing her evasive expression, I casually stuffed the ring back into my pocket. I changed my mind. Instead of throwing the ring away, I might as well sell it and recoup some of my losses. After all, I had spent over a million dollars custom-making it. Jack bumped Emma’s shoulder, chuckling, “Emma, you insisted he come back to help me win the competition, but now it seems completely unnecessary. I didn’t find him that impressive at all!” I was a bit stunned. So, six months ago, when Emma suddenly proposed my comeback, it was only because Jack needed a stepping stone. Such blatant favoritism. In the past, I might have been upset or angry about this realization, maybe even argued with Emma. But now, I found it utterly boring. I ignored Jack’s provocation and headed home with my head down. Unexpectedly, as I turned a corner, I was suddenly struck on the back with a blunt object. Before I could react, I was kicked hard in the back of my knees. My legs gave way, and I half-knelt on the ground, my knees scraping painfully against the surface. The next second, a sharp pain shot through my right wrist, as if a needle was traveling through my entire body along my blood vessels. The person who attacked me moved in front of me. It was Jack. He was holding a baseball bat, making a couple of practice swings as he said with a smile, “Ryan, since you’re quitting the competition, let me send you off properly. Don’t thank me too much.” I belatedly realized that my right hand had been deliberately broken by the baseball bat. But now, I was covered in cold sweat, my face pale, my chest and back soaked through. I couldn’t utter a word. Suddenly, Emma’s voice called out, “Jack, where did you go? Didn’t you ask me to buy you a drink? How did you end up here!” Seeing me half-kneeling on the ground, cradling my broken hand, Emma dropped the water she was holding. She rushed over in panic, staring at my limp hand with wide eyes, and asked in a lost voice, “Your… your hand?!” My chest heaved twice as I stared hard at Jack, the culprit. Emma looked uncertain, her eyes darting between Jack and me. Jack quickly jumped in, “Emma, a group of people suddenly came out and attacked Ryan. I wanted to save him, but I was a step too late…” He lowered his eyes like a child who had done something wrong, deliberately hiding his hands behind his back. Emma’s attention was drawn away. She straightened up and said urgently, “Are you hurt too? Let me see quickly!” Jack reluctantly showed his hand, which had a few scrapes on it, probably from deliberately bumping into something. Despite the shallow wounds, Emma blew on them gently, then let out a long sigh, almost relieved as she said, “Thank goodness, they were targeting Ryan. You only got scratched…” Seeing the near-relieved smile on Emma’s face, I was a bit dazed. In the past, she had been most concerned about my hand, even more worried about my injury than I was myself. She never let me carry heavy things, and on rainy days, she would stay by my side to keep my hands warm, knitting countless gloves for me. Even when I occasionally did some housework and got a few red marks on my hands, she would cry out of concern, saying she hadn’t taken good care of me. Now, she was condoning Jack breaking my hand. In front of me, Jack held Emma’s hand and reminded her, “Emma, it’s almost training time. I want to practice a few more formations.” Emma nodded. Turning around, she took out her wallet and threw a few bills at me, instructing, “Ryan, the competition is coming up soon, and training is important. I’ll take Jack back to the base first. You go to the hospital to treat your wound yourself, I’ll come find you later.” I watched as she left for the base with Jack without any hesitation. After a long while, I let out a cold laugh and took a taxi to the hospital alone. The doctor told me that my hand had suffered a comminuted fracture, and with my old injury, it was as good as useless. I felt no waves of emotion about this. I had known this day would come, hadn’t I? On the way home, I called Mark, the owner of the team’s club. When I was famous before, I had earned quite a bit of money and invested in this then-unknown small team. On the surface, Mark was the boss, but in reality, I was the one who held the real power of life and death. On the other end of the phone, the boss was so shocked he spat out a mouthful of water, exclaiming, “What? You want to withdraw your investment? But the team is about to win the World Championship, and we’ll be rolling in money then. Isn’t it too much of a loss to withdraw now? Besides, this team is your brainchild!” Yes, all of this was my hard work, and also the beautiful memories I shared with Emma. But now, I didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. I said in a low voice, “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll sign the contract tomorrow.” Mark sighed deeply, very regretful, but could only agree in the end. After discussing this matter, I unconsciously walked to my front door. I felt utterly exhausted and just fell onto the bed, drifting off to sleep. I was awakened by the pain in my hand. Opening my eyes, I saw Emma gently cradling my fixed hand. Her eyes were downcast as she softly kissed my exposed fingers. “I’m sorry, I forgot today was a rainy day. No wonder you were in a bad mood.” This wasn’t the first time. For the past six months, on every rainy day, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t sit still, tossing and turning all night. Now, I didn’t care about any of this anymore. Seeing that I didn’t speak, she didn’t get angry. Instead, she smiled and said, “Ryan, are you hungry? I bought a lot of ingredients to cook you a feast, okay?” With that, she went out on her own. I took out my phone, and the screen was full of news praising how great Jack was and how high the chances were for Jack’s team to win the championship. Before I could scroll through much, I heard Emma calling me for dinner. A table full of delicacies: blanched prawns, steamed crab, a seafood feast. I didn’t touch a single dish because I’m allergic to seafood and hate the fishy smell. Emma urged, “Why aren’t you eating? It won’t be as fresh and sweet if it gets cold.” Seeing that I still didn’t speak, her brows furrowed, and she looked displeased. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Emma went to open it, and the next second, her previously impatient expression turned excited: “Jack, you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for you for so long.” Jack walked in with his shoes on, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food on the table. He even hugged Emma directly: “Emma, you really understand me. These are all my favorites!” In an instant, I understood everything. It turned out Emma had mainly cooked for Jack, and I was just an afterthought. I didn’t say anything, quietly leaving the table and walking to the balcony to smoke. Operating with one hand, the lighter’s blue flame was extinguished by the wind several times before I managed to light up with difficulty. In the haze of smoke, I remembered how Emma used to love me so much, able to remember every minute detail of my food preferences. When she took me out to eat, she would even specially instruct the chef for half an hour on how to cook the dishes, how much seasoning to use. Every time, the waiter would praise her for being a top-notch girlfriend, saying I was lucky. But now, everything had changed. The person in her heart had been replaced. Coming back to my senses, the cigarette had burned to its end. My finger flinched from the burn, and the cigarette butt fell to the ground. “Didn’t I tell you to smoke less? It’s not good for your health.” From behind, Emma’s slightly reproachful voice sounded. My heart tightened. Usually, when she said this, it would be followed by a torrent of nagging that would make my ears ache. But the next second, Emma suddenly hugged me from behind, intimate and gentle. Because her head was pressed against my back as she spoke, her voice was a bit muffled as she asked in confusion: “Ryan, are you jealous of Jack? Why?” “Don’t you think Jack is very similar to you? I’m doing all this to make up for your regrets from back then!” “You missed out on the World Championship for my sake back then. Now Jack is trained by me, if he wins, it’s like you winning too!” I rubbed my finger that had just been burned, feeling absurd. Is the way to make up for regrets to let me watch her transfer her love, admiration, and care for me to another man? I once comforted her, saying that even if it happened a hundred times again, no matter the cost, I would still save her in that car accident. It was she who couldn’t let go, couldn’t see it clearly. Now it was clearly she who had a change of heart, yet she was the one acting all righteous and saying it was for my sake. I was about to pull her hands away. But Jack barged onto the balcony, sneering: “Alright Emma, what’s the point of talking to someone like him? I just thought of a new strategy, come back to the base with me and see if we can use it!” This time, I didn’t have to take the initiative. Emma let go of her hands directly. She turned to wipe the grease from the corner of Jack’s mouth with a handkerchief, smiling indulgently: “Okay, I’ll go with you.” As if suddenly remembering me, she frowned slightly and said seriously: “Ryan, think carefully about what I said. Stay at home and reflect on it.” I rolled my eyes inwardly and just mumbled a response. As soon as they left, I contacted a moving company. I had lived here for over twenty years, and I wasn’t about to leave town just because I was breaking up with Emma. More importantly, a new rookie esports team in the city heard that I had quit the competition and contacted me to be their coach. I agreed immediately, planning to move into the dormitory they had prepared for me. I had always loved esports. If it weren’t for helping Emma, I might have opened an esports training school to nurture talent long ago. Tonight, as usual, Emma didn’t come back. Every time Jack came up with a new game strategy, Emma would spend the whole night researching it with him, sleeping directly at the base. In the past, I would worry and sleep at the base with her. Now, I was busy packing. After packing everything, I went to the base to sign the divestment contract with Mark. But as soon as I stepped into the base, I heard a commotion. “As expected of Jack, this is what a true genius is like. Having you is a blessing for our team!” “That’s right! I’ve long thought you should be the captain. That Ryan guy only made it to the World Championship riding on your coattails. He got too cocky!” Emma’s eyes sparkled, looking at Jack’s profile with near infatuation, praising him incessantly: “Jack, you’re truly brilliant. You’re the most outstanding esports player I’ve ever seen.” Catching sight of me from the corner of his eye, Jack deliberately said loudly, “This is nothing, it’s just discovering a better jungling route. How can it compare to our almost-world-champion Ryan?” His tone was full of sarcasm and ridicule. Emma only then noticed me. She came over smiling and said, “Ryan, you’ve come at the right time. Jack needs a training partner, and you’re perfect for it!” I frowned: “No training.” Was she blind? Couldn’t she see my hand was still in a cast? Emma didn’t take my words seriously. She grabbed my injured hand, gently squeezing my fingers, and said in a wheedling tone, “Just this once, okay? Jack really has talent, his potential is even higher than yours. He can go further than you!” I raised the corner of my lips in a mocking smile. In the past, she had said that even if I hadn’t won the World Championship, I was still the perfect esports player in her heart, an uncrowned king. She said the reason she was still in the esports world, striving to be an esports coach, was to make sure people didn’t forget me, to clear my name. But since my comeback, Emma had been treating me like a training tool. My training load was several times higher than others. Several times I was so exhausted I couldn’t lift my hand, yet she never showed any concern. In her heart, Jack, this more perfect, younger player, was much more valuable than me, an already washed-up person. Coming back to my senses, I shook off her hand, still shaking my head in refusal. She clenched her suddenly empty hand, her eyes suddenly turning suspicious as she bit her lip and said, “Ryan, how did you become so irresponsible? Have you forgotten how ambitious you used to be?” “Or is it that you’re jealous Jack is more talented than you, and you deliberately don’t want him to surpass your achievements? How are you any different from those who kicked you when you were down back then!” As soon as she finished speaking, her face turned pale, knowing she had said too much. Indeed, the knife cuts deepest when wielded by those closest to you. Back when I was injured and lost the competition regrettably, everyone said I was faking the injury out of fear of strong opponents. Some even suspected I had taken money to throw the game. Even teammates who had once fought side by side with me mocked me as useless, even giving me insulting nicknames. Being misunderstood and ridiculed had always been an indelible shadow in my heart. Emma had been even more indignant than me, vowing to make those people eat their words. But now, for Jack’s sake, Emma was stabbing me in the heart again. Jack put his arm around Emma’s shoulders, rolling his eyes arrogantly: “Forget it, I don’t want to train with someone like him anyway. When I win the World Championship, I just hope certain people won’t go around bragging under my name!” Emma shook her head, looking at me with disappointment: “Ryan, you’ve disappointed me so much. Do you know what you’ve missed? You’ve missed the chance to win the World Championship. This might have been your last chance.” “With your current age and skill level, do you think you still have the ability to compete in the arena? If we weren’t a couple, I wouldn’t have even recruited you into my team!” Her chest heaved twice, her eyes turning sharp, her voice cold: “Ryan, I’m giving you one last chance. Go be Jack’s training partner, or else, let’s break up!” I laughed bitterly. Since when had Emma started looking down on me like this? Even if my physical abilities had declined, my game sense was still far above all other esports players in the country. Over the past six months, for Jack’s sake, this wasn’t the first time she had threatened me with breaking up. In the past, I would have been terrified, agreeing to all her unreasonable demands, afraid of her leaving me. Now, I said indifferently: “Fine, let’s break up then.” Emma’s previously smug expression froze. She bit her lower lip, her beautiful eyes widening, about to speak. Just as the tension was reaching its peak, Mark came out of the office, asking puzzled: “Ryan, why didn’t you say you were here? Come in and sign the contract!” Everyone present looked a bit confused. Mark smiled and explained: “You don’t know yet? Ryan is an investor in our team.” Jack sneered, jumping in: “How much could he possibly invest? I think someone just can’t face staying in the team anymore and is running away with his tail between his legs.” Others chimed in to mock me: “Jack is the rising star. Our team doesn’t need Ryan’s little bit of money.” “That’s right, Jack can earn that back with just one advertisement!” Mark frowned deeply, about to rebuke them. I looked at their smug faces and curled my lips into a smile. Because I suddenly thought of a better time to withdraw my investment. Before Mark could speak, I interrupted: “Mr. Li, I’ve reconsidered. I won’t withdraw my investment for now.” Hearing this, Mark’s expression changed from anger to joy. He repeatedly praised the decision, rubbing his hands as he said: “Ryan, you’ve finally come to your senses. Our team is about to win the World Championship, we’ll make several small fortunes at least!” Emma’s expression, however, was somewhat unpredictable. Although she didn’t know how much I had invested, she seemed to realize that my quitting the competition and withdrawing my investment, along with our previous argument, was different this time. I was truly angry. Thinking of something, she came back to her senses, took a deep breath, and said softly: “Ryan, you know our team has a promising future. Given that you’ve come to your senses, come back. I’ll have Jack give you back the captain position.” “If you want, I can agree to marry you on the day we win the World Championship.” She knew how to manipulate me, knowing that I had always dreamed of marrying her. But now, I didn’t believe her anymore. I shook my head. “No need for all that trouble. Let’s break up. I’ll leave you the house we live in, consider it a breakup fee.” With that, I ignored Emma’s suddenly ashen face, not waiting for her to speak before turning to leave. Time flew by, and before we knew it, it was the day of the competition. I deliberately dressed in a high-end suit and styled my hair before heading to the competition venue. While retrieving something, I passed by the rest area. Emma was carefully massaging Jack’s hands, helping him relax his muscles. She lowered her head with a serious expression, tirelessly reminding him, “If you get nervous during the match, just take a sip of water, but don’t drink too much.” This scene was just like how she used to treat me before each of my matches. Jack smiled and said, “Emma, you’re so considerate. How about this? After I win the World Championship, I’ll shout your name on stage and confess my love to you. What do you think?” Emma’s face turned crimson. She lightly punched Jack’s chest, coyly saying, “After winning the World Championship, you can’t be as outspoken as you are now. You’ll be in the public eye, with many endorsement deals. A lot of people will be watching your every move!” The others let out a collective “Ooh,” loudly teasing, “Sister Emma, why don’t we get the same treatment as Brother Jack? You’re playing favorites!” “Brother Jack, don’t forget to help us out in the future. When you two get married, I’ll be your groomsman!” I looked away, raising an eyebrow. Laugh while you can. They won’t be laughing for long. … Not long after, the competition was about to officially begin. All the players were seated in their positions, ready and waiting. Just as the host was introducing the team names and participating members, I took one step and jumped onto the stage. The host looked at me uncertainly. Jack took off his headphones and suddenly stood up, frowning as he said, “Ryan, didn’t you quit the competition? What are you doing here? This is not a place for someone like you. Get off the stage!” Emma also emerged from the rest area, grabbing my arm and saying sternly, “Ryan, you chose to quit yourself. Now, no matter how much you beg, I won’t let you compete. This is your lesson. Now get down quickly!” The audience, seeing this turn of events, wore mocking and scornful expressions: “Certain people who faked injuries three years ago and are still faking injuries now should stop embarrassing themselves.” “I’ve never seen someone so thick-skinned. Is he that desperate for esports attention? Someone should just retire already!” I rolled my eyes inwardly. These people sure have active imaginations. I shook off Emma’s hand and laughed coldly: “No need to compete.” Hearing this, Jack sneered: “Who do you think you are? You say we don’t compete and we don’t? Do you know the strength of our Storm team?” Emma frowned deeply: “Ryan, stop disrupting the competition!” Even the host looked at me with confusion, hesitating as he said, “Mr. Han, if you continue like this, I’ll have to call security.” I smiled, pulling out my divestment contract and showing it to the entire audience. “I am Storm team’s largest investor. I hereby announce my divestment, and Storm team is disbanded effective immediately!”

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