Category: English

My roommate and her boyfriend had a major breakup, but I was the one who got kidnapped. In my previous life, Chloe told me her boyfriend, Ryan, was probably cheating and asked me to test his loyalty. I never imagined Ryan wasn’t cheating at all. Instead, he was obsessively in love with her. After Chloe broke up with him, he kidnapped me and forced an entire bottle of bleach down my throat, leading to my agonizing death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chloe pulled the same old trick. Knowing the truth this time, I dialed 911: “Hello, Officer, I suspect someone just drugged me…” “Cassie, what are you spacing out for? Are you even listening to me?” Chloe’s sweet, yet oddly demanding voice, drifted into my ear through the phone. Familiar memories flooded back, and I felt a jolt, instinctively touching my throat. No burning sting. No numb sensation of chemical corrosion. I had been reborn?! In my last life, it was exactly today. Chloe had pleaded and pestered me on the phone, begging me to help her test if her boyfriend, Ryan, was really cheating. “Cassie, we’re best friends, you know? Only you can help me with this.” She sighed dramatically on the other end, her voice filled with such grievance, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. “I just have this gut feeling. Could you just go feel him out for me? Just chat with him a bit, see how he acts around other girls.” “You know Ryan. He seems aloof, but he totally falls for your straightforward type. If you test him, he won’t be on guard.” “If he really has changed, I can at least get over him, right? Please, help me out?” Back then, I had just graduated. I was naive and easily swayed. I couldn’t resist her repeated pleas and agreed. I never imagined my roommate, with whom I lived day in and day out, harbored such a venomous heart. In my past life, I followed Chloe’s script. At a party she’d conveniently arranged, I casually brought up relationship topics. I even said a few ambiguous things as she instructed. Ryan, already upset by Chloe’s recent coldness, blew up on the spot after my interference. Soon after, Chloe broke up with him. But then Chloe, sobbing dramatically with tears streaming down her face, told Ryan that I had been interested in him all along and deliberately stirred up trouble between them. “I knew she liked you for ages. Her eyes always looked at you weirdly. I thought she’d give up eventually, but I never expected…” “Cassie’s my best friend, I don’t want to hurt her, Ryan, let’s just break up!” All the words I had said, following her instructions, became “proof” of me “seducing” Ryan. Looking back now, Chloe wasn’t trying to test Ryan at all. She clearly wanted to break up but didn’t want to be blamed for cheating, so she staged this whole act. Ryan, with his extreme personality, was blinded by rage. He kidnapped me. “I wondered why she suddenly dumped me! So it was you messing things up behind her back!” I desperately explained that it was all Chloe’s setup, but he didn’t believe me. During our struggle, he pulled out a bottle of bleach from somewhere and forced it into my mouth. “She thought you were her best friend, but you secretly tried to steal her boyfriend!” “Chloe loves me so much, why would she break up with me?! It’s all because of you! Even now, Chloe refuses to get back with me.” “Since you like me so much, then just die!” I writhed on the floor in agony. Before losing consciousness, I only saw Ryan’s twisted, desperate face. By the time the police arrived, I was already dead, from acute chemical poisoning. Ryan was sentenced to life imprisonment for murder. His entire life was utterly ruined. His decent, hardworking parents turned white-haired overnight, nearly fainting from grief in the courtroom. And Chloe? At my funeral, she wept profusely, playing the part of a poor soul who had lost her dearest friend, but her eyes were full of triumph. “Cassie, don’t blame me. Blame yourself for being too trusting. I just said a few ambiguous words, and you actually believed them.” “I didn’t want to hurt you, and I wanted to break up with Ryan peacefully. But that lunatic Ryan would just smash things and get violent every time I mentioned breaking up.” “Besides, it was that lunatic Ryan who did it himself. It has nothing to do with me.” It turned out she had calculated everything from the start. She wanted to get rid of Ryan but was afraid of his extreme personality and what he might do, so she designed this whole thing to implicate me. She even posted tributes to me on social media, subtly implying that I had a crush on Ryan and was accidentally harmed when my advances were rejected. She cleaned her hands completely, winning widespread sympathy. My parents, having to bury their own child, had all the life drained from them overnight. They eventually withered away from grief and sorrow. Perhaps Heaven itself couldn’t stand such injustice, and miraculously gave me a chance to come back. This time, I would make Chloe pay back every single debt, down to the last penny!

“Cassie? Are you listening or not? Just help me this once, please? I’ll treat you to dinner tonight!” Chloe’s voice on the other end of the phone continued to nag. I took a deep breath, suppressing the rising hatred. “Okay.” Chloe’s voice instantly brightened, full of undisguised eagerness. “I knew you were the best! You wouldn’t just stand by and let me be fooled.” I clutched my phone. “Well, he is your boyfriend. You need to know the truth. Tell me, what should I do?” “Just find a chance to ask Ryan out for dinner.” Chloe lowered her voice, a calculated excitement in her tone. “Just say… say that I’ve been complaining to you lately about him not being attentive enough, and you’re sticking up for me, wanting to talk some sense into him.” “Then you can subtly ask if he has something on his mind, or… if he’s met any girls who caught his eye.” She paused, then added, “Remember, don’t be too direct. Act like it’s just casual conversation.” “If he avoids eye contact or speaks vaguely, then something’s definitely wrong! Make sure to tell me right away so I can make my plans.” I intentionally dragged out my words, pretending to hesitate. “Is that really okay? What if he finds out you put me up to it? Won’t he get mad?” Chloe scoffed, her voice confident. “Don’t worry, he trusts you so much, why would he suspect anything?” “Besides, even if he found out, he’d only blame me for being nosy. At most, we’d have an argument, which would be a perfect chance to see his true colors.” I “reluctantly” agreed. After hanging up, the smile on my face instantly vanished. Chloe wasn’t looking for the truth at all. She clearly wanted to use me to plant a seed of doubt in Ryan’s mind, paving the way for her future “victim” persona. In my past life, she taught me the exact same way, step by step, leading me into the trap she had dug. But this time, the hunter and the hunted were about to swap places. After hanging up, I immediately opened Amazon and ordered a tiny voice recorder and a few miniature pinhole cameras. Then I contacted a realtor, giving “roommate’s incompatible schedule” as my reason for urgently seeking a new apartment. I didn’t want to spend another day in that place. Soon, I arranged to meet Ryan, following Chloe’s “script.” The location was a nice Western restaurant. I specifically booked a private room, making it easy to set up the equipment. Arriving half an hour early, I skillfully hid the cameras in a potted plant in the corner of the room and behind a framed painting. I also placed the voice recorder in the side pocket of my canvas bag, ensuring it could clearly pick up sound. As expected, after only a few minutes of chatting, Chloe “surprisingly” appeared with a few mutual friends. “Oh, Cassie, what a coincidence!” She beamed, intimately linking her arm through mine, her eyes quickly scanning the private room as if checking for something. “My friends and I were just shopping, and we happened to pass by here. We just came to say hello, hope we’re not interrupting?” I scoffed inwardly but kept my face neutral. “Of course not, the more the merrier.” Ryan was clearly a bit surprised but still stood up and greeted them with a smile. He had indeed been troubled lately by Chloe’s hot-and-cold attitude, and a hint of subtle fatigue was etched on his brows. During the meal, Chloe acted incredibly dependent on Ryan, showing him much care and concern, as if their relationship was perfect. But I noticed that when she lowered her head to play on her phone, her sweet smile would vanish instantly. Her eyes even held a hint of subtle distortion and annoyance. Mid-meal, the private room door opened. A waiter entered, pushing a beautiful cake, singing “Happy Birthday.” Ryan stood up, holding a bouquet of Chloe’s favorite white roses. He awkwardly scratched his head. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart. I meant to surprise you tonight, but I didn’t expect everyone to be here.” Everyone immediately started cheering and clapping, exclaiming, “How romantic!” and “Ryan’s so thoughtful!” Chloe’s smile froze for a second. Then it became exaggerated, and with reddened eyes, she threw herself into Ryan’s arms. “You scared me! I thought you forgot!” But I was sitting diagonally across from her and saw it clearly. When her face was buried in Ryan’s chest, her lips were turned downwards, and her eyes were filled with a grim, hateful look. I picked up my water glass, hiding the coldness in my eyes. While everyone’s attention was on them, I casually leaned towards Ryan and said: “Ryan, you’re so good to Chloe.” “Honestly, girls love these kinds of surprises, especially when you feel she’s been a little distant lately. Maybe a surprise like this can cheer her up.” Ryan paused, then thoughtfully glanced at Chloe. “You’re right. Maybe I’ve been neglecting her too much lately.”

After the dinner, back at our shared apartment. Chloe immediately dropped her facade. She closed the door, then turned around and questioned me, “Cassie, what did you say to Ryan? He was looking at me weirdly today.” I feigned a troubled expression and pulled out my pre-prepared explanation. “I didn’t say anything… just chatted about how you two have been lately.” “He said he felt you hadn’t been very happy recently and asked me if you had something on your mind.” I deliberately showed a confused expression. “Speaking of which, Ryan is quite considerate towards you, sending flowers and preparing a cake. How come you don’t seem very happy? Did you misunderstand something?” Chloe’s face instantly became unnatural, her eyes darting away. She probably hadn’t expected me to not only fail to sow discord as she’d planned but also to mention her “having something on her mind” to Ryan. This uncertainty made her a bit flustered. “No… nothing,” She forced a smile, her tone a little stiff. “Maybe I was overthinking it… Anyway, it’s getting late. I’m going back to my room.” Watching her flee, I knew she wouldn’t dare make any rash moves for now. In the following days, Chloe’s attitude towards me became noticeably colder. She no longer clung to me like before, but her eyes held a new wariness and scrutiny. I enjoyed the peace and quiet, dealing with her while speeding up my apartment search. Soon, I found a satisfactory apartment from the listings my realtor sent me. While Chloe was at work, I arranged for a moving company, ready to pack up and leave. Just as I was directing the movers to secure the boxes, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. Chloe stepped out of the elevator and froze instantly at the sight of my packed luggage at the door. “Cassie? What are you doing?” She rushed over and grabbed my arm, her panic barely concealed. “Why are you suddenly moving? Did I do something to upset you?” I gently pulled my arm free and took a step back. “You’re overthinking it. It’s just that this place is too far from my office, and the commute isn’t convenient.” I frowned. “By the way, why are you back? Isn’t it your work hours?” “I left some files at home, so I came back for them.” As she spoke, she tried to get closer to me again. “Are you still mad at me? Just because I asked you to help me test Ryan?” “My tone was bad last time, I apologize. Please don’t be like this.” Her fake concern, in my past life, would have gone unnoticed. I might even have softened. But now, I just felt disgusted. I ignored her, stepped aside for the movers, and followed them out. At my new place, I pulled out my phone and opened the live feed from the camera app. Sure enough, a leopard can’t change its spots. Just like in my past life, Chloe was on the phone with Ryan, feigning tears.

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I died in the year I loved him most. His fortune, worth hundreds of millions—he just walked away from it all. He let his entire empire burn, just to be with me. Then I opened my eyes again, ten years earlier. We had just gotten married, and I hated him more than anyone. I rushed to his company, and the moment I saw him, I choked out, “Julian, I’m sorry.” He froze for a brief moment, then his expression turned cold. “Go on, tell me. How are you going to torture me this time?” I remember Julian didn’t make it out of that final explosion. He, who was always so impeccably neat, knelt beside me and whispered, “Clara, don’t be scared. I’m here with you.” He was 38 that year. A fortune worth hundreds of millions—he just walked away from it all. He let his entire empire burn, just to be with me. … It was a midsummer evening, and the setting sun outside the window bled like fire. A muggy breeze drifted into the room. I woke from my dream, sitting on the bed in a daze. The alarm clock in the corner ticked softly, and the desk calendar lay quietly on the table. “Madam, Mr. Julian just called. He said he won’t be back tonight.” Martha’s voice drifted in from the living room, calm and peaceful. I looked down at the brand-new wedding ring on my ring finger. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was actually back ten years in the past. The sky-high flames from before I died, and that warm, strong embrace, felt so real. In his final moments, Julian had still been telling me, “Don’t be afraid, Clara. I’ve waited for you for too long in this life. In the next, I’ll find you early.” Was this a dream, or reality? I pinched myself, and a dull ache shot up my thigh. The blaring car horns outside the window jolted my chaotic thoughts awake. After the initial shock, a deep, lingering ache and bitterness washed over me. A meticulously orchestrated misunderstanding had made me hate Julian for many years. During that time, his rivals used every dirty trick to crush him. They left him no room to breathe. At home, my coldness kept him away, so he rarely came back. Julian’s parents had passed away young, and he had no other relatives. He lived for half his life, guarding a vast business empire all alone. Later, the misunderstanding was resolved. We had a brief six months of happiness, and I even became pregnant with our child. But before I could tell him the news, I died a tragic death. … “Madam, the flowers have arrived. Are you ready to go?” Martha came in to ask. “What?” My mind was still reeling. “The flowers, weren’t you going to see Mr. Noah?” Noah… Hearing that name suddenly, I froze. A tangled mess of thoughts suddenly found a thread. So, it was this day.

Noah was my childhood friend. He was also a very talented actor. Unfortunately… a “accident” left him with severe burns all over his body, requiring long-term hospitalization. On this day in my previous life, I carried a bouquet of flowers to the hospital. After celebrating Noah’s birthday at the hospital, I emerged to find Julian sitting in his car, a cigarette burning down to its filter between his fingers, completely oblivious. I didn’t want to explain anything, didn’t even want to see him. “Clara.” Julian spotted me, stubbed out his cigarette, and got out of the car, his voice filled with sorrow. “…It’s my birthday today.” I stopped, turning back to look at him coldly. “So what?” Julian’s dark eyes stared at me, silent. I said, “It’s Noah’s birthday too. You did whatever it took to marry me, ruined his face, and destroyed his future. What more do you want from me?” Julian opened his mouth, but only managed to say, “That was just an accident…” “If you hadn’t invited him that day, he wouldn’t be lying in a hospital now. How can I believe that was an accident?” Julian fell silent. Finally, he told me, “I’m sorry.” From that day on, my relationship with Julian plummeted. A long and agonizing cold war began. Later, I learned that what even Julian believed was an “accident” was nothing more than a scheme by certain people to drive a wedge between us.

“I’ve already put your things in the car for you. If you leave any later, you’ll hit traffic.” Martha came back to call me. Outside the window, the sunset was halfway down, casting dim light. I snapped back to reality, hastily pulling on my coat, and got into the car. Because I suddenly realized that this was ten years ago, and everything could still be changed. The driver merged into traffic. “This road to the hospital is already jammed. Maybe you should call Mr. Noah and ask him to wait…” “Not the hospital.” I looked at the constantly changing traffic lights outside the window, and changed my mind. “To the company.” … Truth be told, I didn’t have many memories of Julian’s company. When I was younger, I hated him so much I never bothered to visit. Later, when I loved him, he was being targeted by enemies, and danger lurked everywhere, so I didn’t dare go looking for him. Which is why, at this moment, standing beneath a cluster of towering office buildings, I felt a bit lost. Which one was his office building anyway? Passersby eyed me curiously: holding a giant bouquet, dressed elegantly, with makeup on, like a girl about to confess her feelings. I awkwardly pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. Just his full name. Not even listed as an emergency contact. I pressed call, expecting to wait a long time. But after just two short rings, he picked up. His cool, distant voice came through the receiver. “What is it?” Hearing his voice again, my eyes suddenly welled up, and my voice involuntarily caught in my throat. “Julian, where’s your office? I can’t find it…” The passersby looked at me even stranger. A woman who couldn’t find her husband’s office, standing on the curb, sobbing. Julian seemed to be in a meeting. He paused briefly, then said, “Let’s stop here for today.” Then he told me, “Go stand on the sidewalk. I’m coming down.” A few minutes later, Julian walked out of the office building. His tall figure cut through the neon lights, dressed in a sharp suit, noble and self-possessed. In contrast, my reflection in the glass showed eyeliner streaking down with my tears, like the girl from ‘Orphan’. Damn it, it was all ruined. “Why are you here?” His tone was flat, almost icy. I turned my head. The tall, handsome man was looking at me with a cold expression, his pupils reflecting my scribbled-on face, his expression stiffening slightly. No matter when, Julian was always perfectly composed. Like a flower blooming on a cliff, unsullied. “I’m sorry,” I said, lowering my head, not daring to look at him. “Did I bother you…” “Today…” He only said two words, then stopped. I knew what he wanted to say. Today, I should be celebrating Noah’s birthday, not showing up here. That actually reminded me. I shoved the flowers into his arms, mumbling vaguely, “Happy birthday.” A long silence followed. I secretly glanced at him and noticed he was staring at the bouquet, but he didn’t look very happy. After a long moment, he let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. “Clara, those are his discards, aren’t they?” “What?” I realized his mood had shifted, and my gaze suddenly fell on the bouquet, my heart sinking. Oh no! Ice-blue roses. Their meaning: to give you the stars and the sea. Noah’s favorite things were also the stars and the sea. My memories upon waking had been too chaotic. I’d been so focused on finding Julian that I’d overlooked these details. “I’m sorry, I—” “Thank you for the birthday gift.” Julian’s tone was almost stiff. “It’s getting late. Have the driver take you home.” He turned to leave. I quickly grabbed the hem of his suit. “Wait!” Julian hadn’t expected my move and didn’t stop, causing me to stumble and crash hard into his back. His bespoke suit was a crumpled, colorful mess. Julian turned, staring at my fingers, silent for a long time. I was stubborn, insisting, “Julian, I’m not going back.” His expression was desolate. “Clara, how are you going to torture me this time?” That question was really hard to answer. From my memories, Julian and I had just gotten married around this time, and I was constantly picking fights with him. I was 23, he was 28.

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I transmigrated into the villainess of a dark romance novel, only to find myself giving birth to the ruthless CEO’s triplet daughters. To win a smile from Veronica, the woman he adored, he packed me and our three wailing baby girls into an underground fighting arena. On the live stream, he wrapped an arm around Veronica, his voice chilling: “You and these worthless liabilities – whoever survives till the end, I’ll allow them to come back.” Veronica giggled, her laughter sickeningly sweet: “Oh, Dominic, you’re so naughty! Hurry, let everyone see the thrill of a mother and daughters tearing each other apart!” I closed my eyes in despair, clutching my three starving daughters. *Ding! Congratulations, Host! The ‘Husband’s Hellfire Redemption’ System has activated.* I curled my lips, revealing a chilling, white smile to the camera. “Dominic, darling, are you ready to lose everything and crawl on your knees to beg me?” *Ding! Newbie Gift Pack issued: Pain Empathy (100%). All physical and psychological pain you endure will be transmitted to the ‘target’ — the male lead of this dark romance — with zero delay and zero loss.* Our clothes were ripped off, leaving me and my three daughters wrapped only in a greasy, tattered tarp, then we were thrown into the arena like trash. My three daughters were burning with fever, their small bodies terrifyingly hot, whimpering like kittens in my arms. Barefoot, I stepped onto the slick, greasy ground. A bone-chilling cold shot straight up my spine. Almost at the exact same moment. “Ah!” Dominic Hayes’ caviar dropped to the floor. He clutched his mouth, a powerful wave of nausea surging up his throat, as if he’d just swallowed a mouthful of rotten swill. “Dominic, darling, what’s wrong?” Veronica Lane leaned into him, wiping the corner of his mouth with a concerned handkerchief. “Nothing.” Dominic frowned. “Maybe the seafood wasn’t fresh. There’s suddenly a taste of rust and sour slop in my mouth.” He picked up a glass of ’82 Lafite from a nearby table, elegantly rinsed his mouth, then spat onto the expensive Persian rug beside him. “Baby, don’t mind me. Try this – air-freighted bluefin tuna.” He spoke in the gentlest tone, with the most caring words. I watched coldly from the giant screen on the ceiling. “System, the game has begun.” Dominic was about to feed Veronica a piece of tuna when his heart violently spasmed, as if an invisible hand had brutally squeezed it. It was an extreme, gut-wrenching sense of abandonment. He didn’t know it was precisely how I felt at that moment. *Clang!* At the other end of the iron cage, a small door opened, and a guard threw in a metal bucket. Inside were foul, maggot-ridden scraps, emitting a nauseatingly sour stench. “Eat it, bitch. Mr. Hayes said if you want to live, you have to eat like a dog.” The guard’s mockery echoed through the arena via the live broadcast. My eldest daughter, Lily, was delirious with fever, her lips cracked, unconsciously whimpering: “Mommy… water…” I stared at the bucket of maggots, my stomach churning. But I knelt anyway, using my hands to carefully push aside the squirming maggots in that slimy filth, trying to find a drop of clean water underneath. The moment my fingertips touched the cold, slimy maggots— “Ugh!” Dominic could no longer hold it in. Right in front of Veronica, he vomited the top-tier meal he’d just eaten all over the floor. The head-spinning, nauseating sensation that came from my fingertips was 100% synchronized to his nerve endings. Veronica recoiled in disgust, pinching her nose. “Dominic, you’re so disgusting! What’s wrong with you?” “I… I’m fine…” Dominic hadn’t finished speaking when a rustling sound came from the shadows of the iron cage. The first “appetizer” arrived—a pack of starving, rotting rats. Their eyes gleamed red in the dim light, and they charged at us without hesitation. I instinctively clutched my three daughters tightly, forming a wall of flesh with my back and legs. “Ah—!” A rat sank its teeth viciously into my calf. Sharp teeth pierced through flesh, sending excruciating pain through me! “Argh!!!” At the same instant, Dominic clutched his calf, letting out a horrific scream in front of everyone, rolling off the sofa. The wealthy socialites present were stunned. Veronica was startled too, but mostly she felt mortified. “Dominic! What’s wrong with you? It’s just a leg cramp, isn’t it? Everyone’s watching!” “It’s not a cramp! It’s… it’s like a dog bite! It hurts! It hurts so much!” He couldn’t comprehend why his perfectly intact skin, beneath his thousand-dollar custom suit pants, was experiencing the agonizing sensation of being torn open alive. I endured the pain, listening to his screams from the big screen, and I smiled. Dominic, this is just the appetizer. The large cage door opened again, and a hungry, drooling wolf stalked in. The wolf’s target was clear: my wailing daughters in my arms. It lunged suddenly! I didn’t have time to think, instinctively blocking it with my left arm. *Splatt!* The wolf’s fangs sank deep into my arm, tearing a gash so deep the bone was visible. Blood instantly stained the dirty tarp. “Aaahhhhhh—!!!” A bomb seemed to detonate in Dominic’s mind. The agonizing pain of his arm being brutally ripped open made him instantly crush the wine glass in his hand. Glass shards dug deep into his palm, bleeding profusely. But he found that the pain in his hand was less than a thousandth of the excruciating pain originating from me in his mind.

Amidst the agonizing struggle with the wolf, the cold system prompt sounded again. *Ding! Host’s will to survive is strong, unlocking new skill: Memory Whiplash. You can select one of your most painful memories and 100% synchronize it to the empathy target, causing a mental shock.* I spoke without hesitation: “Select the memory of the triplet’s difficult birth!” Memories surged like a tide, overwhelming Dominic’s mind through the system. *Memory Scene One: The Delivery Room* I was drenched in sweat from the pain, gripping the bedsheets, pleading with the doctor: “Please, a C-section! I can’t take it anymore!” The doctor’s face was expressionless: “We need a family member’s signature.” The call went to Dominic. In the background, Veronica’s娇滴滴 voice: “Dominic, the doctor says my ankle is only a slight sprain, but I’m so scared! Stay with me, don’t leave.” Then came Dominic’s impatient roar: “Natural birth! Make her endure it! What woman doesn’t go through pain during childbirth? Stop being so dramatic!” *Memory Scene Two: Outside the Operating Room* I was hemorrhaging, my life hanging by a thread. The doctor rushed out and asked him: “Mr. Hayes, the mother’s condition is critical. Who do we prioritize, the mother or the baby?” He was gently applying a cold compress to Veronica’s ankle, not even looking up. “Save the baby. She won’t die. It’s just giving birth. Doesn’t every woman give birth?” *Memory Scene Three: The Hospital Room* I was weak postpartum, suffering from incontinence. The nurse’s aide, bribed by Veronica, deliberately left me on a bed soiled with filth for several hours. She even loudly mocked me in front of everyone else in the room. “Look at you, Mrs. Hayes, what a mess you’ve made! You’re humiliating Mr. Hayes!” The excruciating twelve-level labor pain, the bone-chilling abandonment, the boundless humiliation of being shamed, combined with the fear of being torn by the wolf—four layers of pain piled up, like a towering mountain, crushing Dominic’s soul. “Ugh… ah…” His eyes rolled back, foam escaped his lips, and he collapsed onto the floor, convulsing violently. “Dominic! Dominic, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!” Veronica shrieked, but her first reaction wasn’t to call a doctor. Instead, she quietly pulled out her phone, aimed it at Dominic’s grotesque face, and started recording. “Darling, look, he seems to be dying.” She cried hypocritically while rapidly texting her backup lover. In the arena, the wolf seemed to pause for a thousandth of a second due to Dominic’s violent reaction as the empathy target. Now was my chance! I seized the opportunity, picking up a sharp metal shard someone had dropped on the ground with my uninjured right hand. I used all my strength and slashed at the wolf’s throat! Warm wolf blood splattered across my face. The wolf crashed to the ground. *Ding! Congratulations, Host! You have achieved a counter-kill. Reward: Newbie Gift Pack – Potent Hemostatic Spray x1, Compressed Biscuits x3.* I didn’t stop my bleeding first. The wound on my arm was still gushing blood, but I merely knelt on the ground, my trembling hands carefully breaking the three precious compressed biscuits into small pieces, feeding them bit by bit to my terrified daughters. “Don’t be scared, babies. Mommy’s here.” This maternal love, born in the depths of despair, was clearly transmitted through empathy to the convulsing Dominic. This feeling wasn’t pain, yet it tormented him more than any pain. Because in his memories, he had just personally ordered the扼杀 of the very source of this warmth.

The wolf was dealt with, but the danger wasn’t over. The metal net above the arena opened, and dense swarms of venomous snakes rained down. “Oh my God! Snakes!” “They’re done for, aren’t they? With three liabilities.” “Mr. Hayes sure knows how to entertain! I’m getting excited! Yay! I bet 10 million that woman will throw her kids away first!” On the big screen, the excited chatter of the wealthy elite was relentless. I immediately shielded my daughters in a corner, forming a barrier with my body. Mixed among the snakes were several massive, slimy carrion-eating monitor lizards. Their target wasn’t us, but the still-warm wolf carcass nearby. The giant lizards opened their gaping jaws, tearing and swallowing the rotting flesh, nauseating fluids splattering everywhere. This primal, barbaric scene intensified one of my daughter’s fevers, causing her to hallucinate. She mistook a slowly slithering snake for my hand and actually laughed, reaching out to grab it. “Baby, don’t move!” I was terrified, clutching my daughter’s crying, struggling body with my uninjured hand. This tearing sensation, where I had to hurt her to protect her, felt like a knife twisting in my heart. *Ding! Host’s clever survival tactics have been recognized, rewarding new permission: Public Opinion Control (Basic). You can edit videos under 30 seconds and anonymously upload them to any online platform.* My chance had arrived. I deliberately allowed a colorful, non-venomous snake to bite my ankle. The illusion of being “poisoned” and the sharp pain were immediately synchronized to Dominic. “Help… I’ve been poisoned… there are snakes…” In Dominic Hayes’s corporate office, he writhed on the floor in agony, disrupting everyone trying to help him. At the same time, I activated [Public Opinion Control]. I didn’t spread videos of my own suffering; that would only satisfy the spectators’ morbid curiosity. I carefully edited a 30-second video: The background was the hellish scene of snakes encircling us and giant lizards devouring a corpse. The foreground was me, enduring the agonizing pain in my ankle, gently wiping away my daughter’s tears with the blood-stained hem of my clothing. I made no sound, only silently mouthed to them: “Mommy’s here.” The video ended with my feverish, hallucinating daughter placing her small hand on my face, innocently asking: “Mommy, are we playing a game?” I titled the video: *Mother of the Year: Hell-Level Parenting in Action.* Then, I anonymously uploaded it everywhere online. In less than ten minutes, the video exploded. #HellLevelParenting gained viral traction, rocketing to the top of the trending topics on Ins. “Holy crap! Is this a movie? It looks so real!” “That’s not special effects! Look at the mother’s arm wound, it’s real! And those snakes and monitor lizards!” “Investigate! Find out! Where is this? This is murder!” “That mother’s eyes… I’m crying. For her children, she truly fears nothing.” Soon, resourceful netizens, through a fleeting logo in the live stream background, identified the owner of this underground fighting arena—Dominic Hayes, CEO of Hayes Group, a man known nationwide for his “loving husband and devoted family man” public persona. Public opinion utterly erupted. “What ‘loving husband’ persona? His wife and kids are being fed to snakes in a fighting pit! That bastard!” “Boycott Hayes Group! This scum’s company must go bankrupt!” Hayes Group’s PR department’s phones were ringing off the hook, and their stock began a precipitous freefall. Dominic received countless calls from shareholders and partners demanding answers. But his mind was filled with the slimy sensation of snakes and the innocent cries of his daughters, making him roar incoherently: “Get away! Don’t touch me! There are snakes!” On the cold floor of the arena, I watched the Hayes Group’s market value evaporate on the system panel, and for the first time, a chilling smile touched my lips. Dominic, it seems that only by hurting myself, did I truly, for the first time, hurt you.

Under public pressure, the bloody live stream was forcibly paused. My daughters and I were dragged out of the arena and locked in a damp isolation room. My daughters’ fevers worsened, and they began to babble deliriously. Just as I was about to despair, the door quietly opened. A doctor in a white coat, carrying a medical kit, walked in. “Miss Reid, I was sent by Mr. Hayes.” He injected my daughter with a fever reducer, speaking in a low voice. “Mr. Hayes saw the online backlash and regretted it. He sent me to get you out.” He slipped a keycard into my hand. “This path leads to the parking lot outside. Hurry, before you’re discovered.” I looked into his sincere eyes, half-believing, half-doubting. Dominic Hayes having a change of heart? Pigs would fly first. But looking at my dying daughters in my arms, I had no choice. This glimmer of hope, this chance at escape, was also synchronized to Dominic through the system. His tortured nerves received a brief respite, and he even had a fleeting illusion that “maybe things could still turn around.” I held my three daughters, following the doctor’s directions, moving with difficulty through the labyrinthine underground passages. Finally, at midnight, I saw the door marked “Exit.” Freedom was just ahead. I used my last ounce of strength, swiped the keycard, and pushed open the heavy metal door. Beyond the door was not the free parking lot. But blinding spotlights, countless high-definition cameras aimed at me, and… Dominic Hayes and Veronica Lane, standing in the center of the arena, applauding. My heart instantly plummeted into a bottomless abyss. Dominic put his arm around Veronica, a devilish grin on his face. He spoke into the microphone, his tone like an art connoisseur: “Having fun, my dear wife?” “To provide our esteemed guests with an even more thrilling spectacle, I meticulously prepared this survival reality show just for you. It’s a custom-made, paid-access experience, you know.” As Dominic’s words fell. The iron door behind me slammed shut. At the other end of the arena, a massive iron cage was hoisted, and a狂暴 black bear, injected with an overdose of stimulants, was unleashed with a roar. Its eyes were bloodshot, and its size was three times that of the previous wolf. The power imbalance was absolute. I looked at Dominic’s sneering face, Veronica’s triumphant smile, and the charging black bear. My physical and mental defenses completely collapsed at that moment. Tears of blood streamed down my face. Only one thought remained: if hell had an end, it would be here. But the boundless despair of my towering hatred simultaneously exploded in Dominic’s mind. “Ah—!” Dominic clutched his head, emitting an inhuman scream. Fine trickles of blood oozed from his eyes and mouth, his face a mask of utter agony. And at the very edge of that despair, I finally heard a familiar electronic prompt.

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I worked part-time during college to make ends meet. I found a job, but rumors spread around campus that I was working in an unsavory industry. Years later, as if fulfilling their assumptions, I became a VIP room manager at a nightclub. At a class reunion, my former classmates mocked me with cold remarks. But the infamous lawyer Mr. Yates, known for his stern demeanor, unexpectedly knelt before me in his crisp suit— 0 “Ava, please, save me a room tonight…” I started working at Horizon, the city’s most popular nightclub, after graduating college. My job was VIP room sales, mainly booking private rooms and selling drinks. I was approaching 30 and had worked my way up to sales manager. Our team, mostly young women, consistently performed well. Lisa’s team also did well, though they occasionally had off nights. On those evenings, she would start bombarding me with messages on Snapchat as early as 5 PM, frantically saying: “Ava, how many rooms has your team booked? We only have three so far. If we’re really struggling by tonight, can you lend us some of your bookings? Next time there are difficult clients, I’ll have Angela and the girls help out with drinks.” Lisa was nine years my senior, a veritable cougar with permed reddish-brown hair. We got along well, mainly because of her straightforward personality. And I was even more direct than her. Horizon was the largest and liveliest nightclub in the city. There wasn’t much scheming between the sales teams, since besides Lisa and me, the only other sales manager we regularly dealt with was a man. We called him Chris. Chris was also easy to talk to and treated us all like sisters. At 7 PM, Horizon opened for business. The girls arrived one by one through the back entrance, gathering in the dressing room. Some still had remnants of last night’s makeup, mascara smudged around their eyes. Others arrived bare-faced in tank tops, carefully applying skincare in front of the mirror. Those who weren’t skilled at makeup could pay $30 for the part-time makeup artists to do a pretty look. The makeup artists brought basic foundation, but the girls usually requested to use their own MAC or Armani products. Of course, some didn’t bother, like the new college student on my team. She was introduced by her classmate Tina to work part-time. The girls here all used stage names. Tina’s real name was Chloe, a sophomore in college. Her friend had already picked out a name before coming – Mandy. Mandy looked a bit plain, with small eyes and a hesitant demeanor. Initially I didn’t want to take her on, but Tina clung to my arm and pleaded: “Come on Ava, let her stay. Her dad has cancer and is in the hospital. They’ve used up all their savings and are in debt. They can’t even afford her living expenses. She really needs the money.” I sighed reluctantly, “Not everyone is cut out for this line of work. Looks are secondary – with makeup, no one looks too bad. But in other aspects, do you really think she can handle those clients?” I’ve always been good at reading people. This girl was too naive – unlike Tina, who was lively and socially savvy. Tina had been working part-time here for almost a year. She was clever and could hold her liquor well. I once asked her why a nice girl like her would work in a place like this. She blinked innocently and said matter-of-factly: “I don’t have enough money. My mom only gives me $100 a month. One set of skincare products alone costs $180. Plus all the cute bags and shoes – who doesn’t like shopping for designer brands at the mall?” I’ve seen all kinds of reasons girls work in nightclubs, each more outlandish than the last. In Lisa’s group, there was a girl called Hannah who came to work here because of her boyfriend. The guy was constantly unemployed, lying around at home playing video games all day. So she came to work at the nightclub to support them both. Girls like that were rare. It usually took hitting rock bottom before they’d wake up. More common were girls like Mandy, who came to work here because they desperately needed money. And they needed a lot of money. Like my best friend at Horizon, Angela. She was already working here when I first started. Originally it was because she fell victim to an online shopping scam and maxed out her credit cards. She managed to pay off her debts and left for a year. But when I became a sales manager in charge of a team, she came back. This time it was because she got caught up in an online romance scam. She was brainwashed and took out all kinds of loans. Now she owed over $100,000. Then there was Yolanda, a 26-year-old single mom. She divorced due to domestic violence and was raising two kids on her own. Everyone had their reasons for working in nightclubs, but not everyone was suited for it. But Tina kept insisting, even promising: “No one is born cut out for this industry. Don’t worry Ava, Mandy is very adaptable. I can help her. How about this – let her try for a few days with me guiding her. If you’re still not satisfied then, you can let her go.” Because of that, Mandy really did end up staying. She didn’t have great features, so she always carefully had her makeup done by the makeup artists. I have to say, with makeup she looked quite innocent and sweet, a bit like that Korean actress with small eyes, Jung Da-bin. I knew that agreeing to keep her was partly because of what Tina said – “No one is born cut out for this industry.” Every evening around 6-7 PM, the two large dressing rooms and changing rooms would be bustling with noise and activity. In the end, everyone would emerge dolled up and glamorous. When changing, if they couldn’t reach the clasps on their bras, they’d even call Chris over to help. After it all quieted down, I would usually light a cigarette in the dressing room, exhaling smoke as I stared at my solemn reflection in the mirror, feeling strange and distant. I once told Tina: “When I was in college, my monthly living expenses were only $50. You’re still young, so those designer skincare products and bags aren’t necessities. You’ll have chances to buy them in the future.” Tina dismissed this, simply telling me: “Times are different now, Ava.” Times may be different, but some truths remain the same. As the famous quote from Zweig’s “Marie Antoinette” goes – “All the gifts bestowed by fate have their price tag already marked.” Some people are born with everything, silver spoons in their mouths. Others are born with nothing, in abject poverty. We all enter this world differently. Life has no rehearsals or scripts. Once a path is walked, it cannot be retraced. That’s why we should cherish the good cards we’re dealt. And when dealt a bad hand, we must study it carefully and play to win big. It would be a shame to only play a bit part on the stage of your own life. As I stared into the mirror lost in thought, cigarette smoke swirling, I couldn’t help but wonder what my era was like. At 20, I seemed to be like Mandy – introverted and reserved, walking with my head down in silence. The difference was, I had no friends at school back then. And because of a boy’s impulsive confession, I became a public enemy, subjected to insults and abuse. Then I would naturally think of Zack, that little troublemaker who shone a light into my long, dark life. In my memories, he smiled at me backlit, forever young. Those thick, unruly eyebrows. The hint of mischief in his eyes. Even after all these years, the memory remained vivid and alive. Those recollections would make me irritably stub out my cigarette. I’d spend a few minutes composing myself, then walk out of the dressing room as if nothing had happened. I’d hold a quick meeting with my team in the main hall. Then everyone would get to work, welcoming clients amidst the lavish and bustling atmosphere of the nightclub. The same routine every night – singing karaoke, playing dice games, drinking, whispering in ears…VIP packages with expensive liquor on the table. As long as the clients’ dirty jokes and wandering hands didn’t go too far, the girls could flirtatiously fend them off. Nightclubs nowadays are different from before. I still remember 10 years ago when Frank partnered with someone to open a karaoke club. Back then it was truly chaotic, breeding grounds for criminal activity. The clubs had nude shows, erotic dances, almost becoming a seedy industry chain. There were other unsavory dealings too. Frank felt helpless at the time – he wanted to establish roots in the city, but there were people he had to rely on. Many things he didn’t want to do, he had no power to refuse. Fortunately, he’s made it big now and gone legitimate. In both legal and illegal circles of the city, mentioning his name now inspires a degree of fear. Frank owns many businesses – restaurants, clubs, tech companies…Perhaps knowing how hard it was to go clean, he’s completely distanced himself from any illegal activities. Take Horizon for example. Despite being a nightclub, it was even nominated as one of the “Top 10 Civilized Establishments” in the city’s year-end evaluations. I’ve long known that Frank is a ruthless man. Horizon operates until 2-3 AM. By closing time, everyone reeks of alcohol. Some of the more energetic girls will invite others out for late night snacks after work. I rarely join their after-work activities. When faced with enthusiastic invitations, I just smile and say: “You girls go ahead. I’m getting old and can’t keep up with you young ladies. I need to rest or I’ll get wrinkles.” I’ve always had trouble sleeping, so I usually go straight home. There are always lots of taxis waiting outside Horizon at that hour. Lately when leaving, I’ve made a habit of glancing towards the east end of the street. Sure enough, for a week now, that black Mercedes has been waiting there at the same time. The person inside seemed to notice me. A tall, straight figure got out of the car. From a distance, the man stood with his hand on the car door, gazing over steadily. I ignored him and got directly into a taxi, giving my address. After arriving at my apartment complex and paying the fare, I unsurprisingly saw that Mercedes had followed me here. For most people, this might seem scary. But not this man. His name was Ethan Yates, a lawyer. More specifically, he was a well-known lawyer in the city. Ethan came from a good family and graduated from law school at Kingsley University. His father was a judge and his mother worked for the prosecutor’s office. He was famous even in school. While getting his master’s degree, he worked with a law firm in Southport on a high-profile forensic evidence case, with the university’s recommendation. Two years ago, he co-founded Kingsley Law Firm with some college classmates. He specialized in criminal defense and handling complex legal matters. I knew a lot about him, not just because I also went to Kingsley, but because I had just dumped him a week ago. “Dumped” may not be the right word, since we were never really in a proper relationship to begin with. Two months ago, their law firm helped the CEO of Qishi Group win an economic dispute case. The CEO booked a room at Horizon and insisted on inviting the lawyers to celebrate. The room was booked through Angela, so the commission went to our team. The CEO generously ordered the Hennessy package, so I went to offer some toasts. That’s how I met Ethan. The large private room was packed, with the CEO and his group all seated. Amidst the clinking glasses and dazzling lights, the lively atmosphere was in full swing. I exchanged some pleasantries with the CEO, who then introduced me to Ethan. “Ava, I hear from Angela that you also graduated from Kingsley? Come, let me introduce you to Mr. Yates – a fellow alumna, and quite a beauty too.” The room was crowded and I hadn’t noticed him at first. But when our eyes met, the air seemed to freeze for a moment. There’s always a certain chemistry between people. Ethan was young and handsome, in a way befitting an elite lawyer’s proper image. Sleek, impeccable hair. A smooth forehead and high nose bridge. Thin lips pressed together. Handsome, faultless features. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looking scholarly and refined, while also cleverly concealing the sharp glint in his deep-set eyes. One glance was enough for me to know something should happen between us. Rumor had it that Ethan never drank and had a cold personality. Whether for work or in private, he was said to rarely smile. That night, true to the rumors, he had been dragged there by another partner at the firm. He didn’t drink a drop of alcohol the whole time, and no women were seated next to him. It was clear he disliked such occasions. Though his face remained impassive, his occasionally furrowed brow betrayed his irritation. Fortunately, I came to his rescue. I sat down next to him, meeting his inquiring gaze. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Yates.” “You also graduated from Kingsley?” Ethan’s voice was cool and low. He turned slightly to look at me, light reflecting off his glasses and illuminating his dark pupils with a deep, mysterious glow. When a man takes initiative to ask questions about a woman, it means he doesn’t dislike her. I’ve always known I’m good-looking. After years in the nightlife industry, the smile on my face was polite and gentle. If I wanted, that gentleness could take on a flirtatious edge. I had graduated from Kingsley a year ahead of him, so I suppose I was his senior. Ethan must have been very puzzled as to why a Kingsley graduate would be working at a nightclub. I didn’t need to explain this to him. If he was interested in me, he’d find out everything with a bit of digging later. That night at closing time, I took the initiative to ask if he could give me a ride home. He sat in the car looking at me, raising an eyebrow. His gaze was deep and unreadable. In the end, he silently allowed me to open the passenger door. When we arrived at my apartment, as I was getting out, I asked with a smile: “Want to come up for coffee?” It was a clear invitation. We were both adults, no need to beat around the bush. I looked at him openly, my expression calm. As if it didn’t matter whether he refused or not. He pressed his lips together, eyeing me. Finally he said: “Do you live alone?” “Of course.” “…Do we need to stop by a convenience store first?” “No need, I have supplies at home.” I smiled coyly at him, deepening the curve of my lips: “Plenty.” Our eyes met. Ethan frowned. In that moment, he was hesitant and conflicted. I could guess what he was thinking – on one side, the shackles of morality. On the other, an attractive woman with good chemistry, nonchalantly propositioning him. And he happened to be single, at an age when passions run high. He was a lawyer, not a saint. So he took the bait. Mr. Yates was quite restrained at first. But once we got upstairs and he took off those glasses and loosened his shirt, he was every bit the wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was gone when I woke up the next day. By the time I got up it was already 11 AM. There was a stack of cash on the nightstand. Perfect. We both got what we wanted, no need for emotional baggage on either side. I sat in a chair on the balcony. As the midday sun blazed, I lit a cigarette, examining the tiny ember at the tip. Just before it burned out, I took a deep drag. The feeling of smoke filling my lungs was strangely satisfying. 0

A few days passed with no word from Ethan. But half a month later, I made an excuse to seek him out. It started with that girl Mandy getting her head smashed with a bottle. The man who hit her was called Harvey, a regular at Horizon. We usually called him Mr. He. That’s right, he was a rich second-generation heir. And he was infamous in the city for his arrogance. When I rushed over after hearing the news, I pushed open the door to see Mandy crouched on the ground clutching her head, blood seeping through her fingers. Tina and the others stood to the side, faces pale, not daring to make a sound. Seeing me enter, the young heir narrowed his eyes and sneered: “Ava, am I short on cash or stingy with tips? Why the hell are you sending me these prudes? Playing hard to get when I’m trying to drink with them. Who do they think they are, trying to act all chaste in a place like this?” I didn’t need to guess what happened. Keeping a smile on my face, I went over to help Mandy up. “I’m so sorry Mr. He, we’ve ruined your good time. Please don’t be angry, we can talk this out. Let me call someone to take the girl to the hospital first. That bottle was no joke.” Chris and the others who had rushed over took Mandy away. I gestured for Tina and the rest to leave too, leaving only myself and the floor manager Ryan to smooth things over. I’ve known Ryan for over a decade, back when Frank was just starting out in the city. He was about the same age as Frank, a gruff man in his late 30s. For him, this kind of scene was nothing new. Good-naturedly, Ryan chatted with Harvey for a bit, then said: “The girl was out of line, she definitely needs more training. But Mr. He, we’re living in a society of law and order now. Hitting people is still not right, no matter what.” Harvey was young and arrogant. He retorted dismissively: “I was just trying to scare her. Who knew she’d be dumb enough not to dodge. Fine, I hit her – I’ll pay the medical bills, that’s that.” Rich people are always so fearless. I smiled and said: “Mr. He, that blow was no joke. It’s a concussion at the very least. The bill won’t be less than $70-80,000.” “What? How much did you say?” Harvey looked at me like he’d heard a joke, laughing coldly. “You think you can just name a price? Who do you think you are?” “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ll be paying not just medical bills, but emotional damages too. If the poor girl is traumatized for life, that shadow will follow her forever.” I smiled calmly as I watched his face grow increasingly dark. Then I added: “If Mr. He thinks the price is too high, how about I call Frank and let him discuss it with you?” I’ve said before, in this city, mentioning Frank’s name always inspires a degree of fear. Harvey stared at me, his expression flickering between anger and uncertainty. Finally he let out a laugh. “Fine, whatever price you name. I’ve got plenty of money. Next time if I accidentally hit you on the head, we’ll use the same rate to settle up.” The threat in his words was clear. I just smiled silently as I looked at him. Ryan frowned first. “Mr. He, you can’t say things like that.” Harvey laughed heartily. “It’s just a joke, why so serious? Ava’s no ordinary woman, how could I dare touch her? Would Frank let me off if I did?” He was right. He wouldn’t dare touch me. Everyone knew that Ava, the sales manager at Horizon, was under Frank’s protection. In fact, many people booked rooms through me as a way to get on Frank’s good side. Ryan drove me to the hospital. Tina was crying when she saw me: “I’m so sorry Ava, I didn’t know Room 503 was Harvey’s. He came late, and when he arrived he specifically asked for Mandy to drink with him. There was nothing I could do no matter what I said.” She felt very guilty. When Mandy first started, I had repeatedly instructed Tina to only let her into rooms with familiar, well-behaved clients until she got used to the work. There were clear finger marks on Tina’s face from being slapped, no doubt by Harvey as well. I patted her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s alright. Look on the bright side – now Mandy will have money to pay for her dad’s medical bills.” Mandy wasn’t seriously hurt. The diagnosis was a moderate concussion, requiring a few days in the hospital. As I expected, she was quite willing to settle privately. No one turns down money. Especially such a large sum. After leaving the hospital, I went straight home. Checking the time, it was almost midnight. After some thought, I called Ethan at this hour. I had found his number on the law firm’s official website. When he picked up, his voice was cool and low as usual, with a hint of annoyance at being woken up: “Hello, who is this?” “Mr. Yates, this is Ava from Horizon Nightclub.” “…” Ethan didn’t speak. He seemed to have woken up fully, falling into a brief silence. I laughed lightly. “I’m sorry, one of our girls was just assaulted. I wanted to consult you on whether we can press criminal charges for intentional injury.” “Where are you right now?” “Um, I just got home from the hospital.” I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out into the dark night. A smile slowly curved my lips. “I don’t know if you could come over at this hour. I can tell you all the details of what happened.” About half an hour later, in the dead of night, Ethan arrived as requested. When I opened the door wearing a lace camisole dress and holding a bottle of wine, he raised an eyebrow, as if expecting this. I smiled too, my damp hair falling loosely around my ears. I raised the wine bottle. “Want a drink?” “I don’t drink.” “Oh? What happens if you do?” He gazed at me intently, moving closer to grip my waist. Lowering his head to my ear, he let out a soft laugh. “I go crazy.”

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After the car crash, I lost my memory. Four powerful, elite men, each claiming to be the love of my life, were practically tearing each other apart, throwing fortunes at me. Julian Sterling, the billionaire CEO, emptied luxury boutiques. Liam Knight, my boy-next-door childhood friend, bought my favorite art gallery. Caleb Thorne, the A-list celebrity, booked Times Square for my birthday. And Dr. Elias Thorne, my attending physician, became my most comforting, unwavering support. They spoiled me rotten, like a princess everyone envied. Julian Sterling, his eyes blazing with possessiveness, clutched me close, his voice husky: “Anya, forget them. You can only be mine.” They didn’t know. The car crash was my design. The amnesia was an act. I just wanted to see how these four culprits, who had shattered my family and destroyed my life in the past, would tear each other apart and drown in the carefully constructed pond I’d built for them. The sterile, suffocating scent of disinfectant clung to everything, inescapable, in the pure white hospital room. I opened my eyes. Four handsome faces, each harboring their own secrets, swam into view. “Anya, you’re awake?” Dr. Elias Thorne, my attending physician, was the first to speak. He wore a crisp white coat, his eyes, framed by delicate gold-rimmed glasses, held a perfectly calibrated concern – just enough to appear caring, but not too much. He reached out to check my forehead, but another large, well-defined hand intercepted him mid-air. “Dr. Thorne, please mind your boundaries.” Julian Sterling’s voice was like ice. He exuded an almost palpable sense of intimidation, an aura that screamed ‘stay away,’ yet his gaze toward me held a burning, possessive intensity. “Anya, do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?” Before I could answer, a clear, boyish voice cut in. “Mr. Sterling, Anya just woke up. Don’t scare her.” Liam Knight held a thermos, his eyes gentle. He was my boy-next-door, my childhood friend. “Anya, I made you your favorite homemade broth.” “Everyone, move!” A man, practically swallowed by a baseball cap and dark sunglasses, pushed his way in, tearing off his disguise to reveal a face so stunning it felt unreal. It was Caleb Thorne, the superstar. He cupped my face, his charming eyes full of heartache: “My little queen, you’re finally awake. You scared me to death.” Four men, four different poses, yet all looked at me with the same possessive gaze, as if I were their property. I blinked blankly, perfectly portraying vulnerability and helplessness, my voice light and soft: “Who… are you all? And… who am I?” “Amnesia?” Four voices spoke in unison, their shock barely concealed. Dr. Elias Thorne was the first to react. He immediately regained his professional composure as a doctor and began to examine me. Julian Sterling’s face was a thundercloud, dark enough to drip. He swatted Caleb Thorne away as he leaned in, staring intently at me: “Anya Sterling, don’t play games.” I flinched, a whimper escaping my lips as tears immediately welled up. “Julian Sterling!” Liam Knight instantly stepped in front of me, glaring at him. “Can’t you see Anya’s scared? How can you still push her when she’s like this?” Caleb Thorne exploded too: “Hey, Sterling! Try yelling at her one more time? I’ll have my fans crash your company’s website so hard, it’ll never recover!” The air in the room crackled with tension. I hid behind Liam, peeking through the gap in his shoulder, my eyes cold as I watched the farce unfold. How pathetic. In my previous life, it was these four men. Julian Sterling launched a hostile takeover, bankrupting my family’s company. My father’s hair turned stark white overnight from the stress. Liam Knight, for his family’s gain, stole our company’s most vital trade secrets, delivering a fatal blow to my father. Caleb Thorne used his public influence, fabricating baseless scandals that dragged my mother’s reputation through the mud. She eventually succumbed to depression and passed away. And Dr. Elias Thorne, my father’s most trusted physician, forged a health report, concealing the heart problems my father developed from prolonged overwork, ultimately leading to his sudden collapse and death in his office. My family was shattered, utterly destroyed. I went from being a golden girl, destined for greatness, to nothing more than dust on the street, eventually run over by a runaway truck. Given a second chance at life, how could I ever forget? I remember everything, every single detail. This crash, this amnesia – they were just the first act, the grand opening of the revenge I’d orchestrated just for them. Dr. Elias Thorne’s final diagnosis was that I had suffered hippocampal damage due to severe head trauma, resulting in memory confusion and loss. “Simply put, she doesn’t remember anyone,” he said calmly, pushing up his glasses. Julian Sterling’s brow furrowed deeply, forming a sharp ‘V’ shape, clearly not believing it. Liam Knight breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes overflowing with tenderness. Caleb Thorne, however, rushed to my bedside, grabbing my hand: “It’s okay if you don’t remember! Baby, from today, I’ll chase you all over again!” Like a startled deer, I nervously pulled my hand away, whispering, “I… I want to be alone for a bit.” It was my subtle way of telling them to leave. Caleb Thorne tried to say more, but Liam pulled him away. Julian Sterling remained rooted to the spot, his deep dark eyes fixed on me, as if I were a valuable, yet enigmatic, artifact. After a long moment, he simply said, “Get some rest,” and turned to leave. Finally, the hospital room fell silent. The vulnerability and confusion instantly drained from my face, replaced by a chilling, dead silence. I pulled back the covers and walked to the window. Below, beside four luxury cars, the four men were locked in a standoff. I couldn’t make out their expressions, but I could easily imagine their ugly faces, battling each other over me. Oh, how truly perfect. In the last life, you all ganged up to push me into the abyss. In this life, you’ll tear each other apart, for me. My hospital room became a silent battlefield during my stay. One day, Julian Sterling would send every single haute couture piece from the current season. The next, Caleb Thorne would hire out an entire Michelin-starred chef team, just to make me a special, comforting meal. Liam Knight took the sentimental approach, bringing old childhood photos and trinkets every day, trying to jog my memory. Dr. Elias Thorne, meanwhile, used his position, claiming “the patient needs quiet rest” as an excuse to block the other three from my room, monopolizing his time with me. “Anya, they’re too loud. It’ll affect your recovery,” he said, skillfully peeling an apple, his voice sickeningly sweet, almost too gentle to be real. “With me here, no one can hurt you.” I took the apple, giving him a sweet, dependent smile: “Dr. Thorne, thank you. I only feel safe when I’m with you.” The smile in his eyes deepened. Safe? How could I forget? In my last life, my father, too, trustingly put his health in your hands, only for you to personally bring about his death. Dr. Thorne, don’t rush. Your comeuppance will be delivered, little by little, by my own hands. Just then, the hospital room door burst open with a bang. Julian Sterling stormed in, radiating a frosty aura. Behind him, two bodyguards directly restrained Dr. Elias Thorne, who had tried to block them. “Since when did my woman become your responsibility?” Julian Sterling walked up to me and scooped me up without a word. I gasped, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck. “Julian Sterling! Put her down!” Dr. Elias Thorne, Liam Knight, and Caleb Thorne, who had rushed over, roared in unison. Julian Sterling sneered, holding me like a conquering king, surveying his vanquished rivals with disdain. “From today on, Anya Sterling will be staying at my private hospital.” Julian Sterling’s private hospital felt more like a luxurious cage. A top medical team was on call 24 hours a day, nurses were always available, and everything in the room was decorated in my favorite style. He placed me on the soft, luxurious bed, looking down at me, his voice brooking no argument: “From now on, you’ll live here. You’re not allowed to see anyone without my permission.” He wanted to isolate me completely, to claim me as his own. I bit my lip, my eyes reddening, looking on the verge of tears: “Who… who are you? Why are you holding me captive?” “I’m your man.” He pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Anya Sterling, you’d better remember quickly. My patience has limits.” His gaze was too aggressive. I fearfully turned my face away. He, however, thought I was scared of him. A flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes, and he softened his tone: “I just… care about you too much.” A cold sneer formed in my heart. Care? In my last life, he also used this same unyielding posture to swallow my family’s company. He had said, “The Davies Corporation, I’ll take it. And you, I’ll take you too.” So domineering, so cruel. I lowered my eyes, my long lashes concealing the hatred within. When I looked up again, my eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “My head hurts…” I clutched my head, weakly collapsing into his arms. Julian Sterling panicked, as expected, and immediately called for a doctor. Seizing the moment he turned, I swiftly sent a message to Liam Knight using the tiny phone hidden in my nail. Just one word. “Save me.” Liam Knight arrived faster than I expected. He wasn’t alone. He brought my “parents” with him. Of course, they were actors I’d hired. When the hospital room door was pushed open, Julian Sterling was spoon-feeding me soup. “Mr. Sterling, we appreciate you looking after our Anya, but now, we’re taking her home,” my “father” said sternly, his tone neither obsequious nor arrogant. My “mother” directly rushed to my bedside, taking my hand and crying as if her heart would break: “My precious darling, you’ve suffered so much!” Julian Sterling’s face immediately darkened. I seized the opportunity to show affection and dependence on my “parents,” hiding in my “mother’s” embrace, looking timidly at Julian Sterling, as if he were a kidnapper. “Mr. Sterling, Anya’s current condition requires the company of her family.” Liam Knight stood behind my “parents,” smiling gently, yet with a hint of challenge. It was a checkmate move. No matter how domineering Julian Sterling was, he couldn’t forcibly keep me in front of my “elders.” He stared intently at me, like a provoked lion. I met his gaze, my eyes pure and innocent, but inside, my heart was roaring with triumphant laughter. Julian Sterling, do you think you can win by locking me up? In this game, I set the rules. I was “successfully” taken back home. A villa I had rented under a fake identity. After sending Liam and my “parents” away, I immediately opened the surveillance monitors in the room. On the screen, Caleb Thorne was throwing a tantrum in his apartment, smashing an expensive vase. “Useless! All of you, useless! You couldn’t even keep track of one person!” His agent trembled beside him. On another screen, Dr. Elias Thorne sat in his office, repeatedly reviewing my medical records, his eyes dark and unreadable. As for Julian Sterling, he didn’t return to his company. Instead, he drove to a cemetery in the suburbs. My parents’ graves. He stood before their headstones for a very long time, rain soaking his hair and shoulders, yet he remained motionless. I turned off the monitors, the smile on my lips growing colder. Only now you come to play the hypocrite? Isn’t it a bit too late? Julian Sterling, everything you inflicted upon my parents, I will make you pay back tenfold. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Liam Knight. “Anya, are you asleep? Don’t be afraid. I’m here for you now.” I replied with “Good night,” then blocked him. The fish were on the hook. Next, I’d let them tear each other apart. The next day, an entertainment headline exploded across the internet. #A-Lister Caleb Thorne Suspected New Relationship, Female Identity Unknown# The accompanying picture showed a “cozy” photo of Caleb and me in the hospital corridor. The angle was tricky, making it look like he was passionately embracing me. I had deliberately leaked this photo to a rival media outlet through a private detective. Caleb Thorne’s fans immediately went wild, unleashing a torrent of curses and insults directed at the blurry female figure in the photo. “Who’s this bitch? How dare she seduce my bias!” “Oppa, clarify this now! You would never fall for someone like this!” Caleb Thorne’s call came through immediately, his voice anxious: “Anya, don’t look at the news, it’s all fake. I’ll have my PR team handle it right away!” I said, my voice choked with tears: “Caleb, I’m so scared… they’re all cursing at me…” “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll figure something out.” After hanging up, the curve of my lips grew wider and wider. Caleb Thorne, you care most about your career and your fans. Now, I’ll make you destroy it yourself. Caleb Thorne’s so-called solution was to hold a live stream. In the live stream, he looked haggard, his eyes bloodshot. He admitted the person in the photo was me, but claimed we were just “friends.” “She just went through a car crash and is very weak. Please don’t bother her anymore.” He bowed ninety degrees to the camera. His fans were heartbroken and expressed their understanding, then began attacking the media outlet that leaked the photo and the “mastermind” behind it. The blame was cleverly directed towards Julian Sterling. Because the photo’s background was Julian Sterling’s private hospital. “It must be that Sterling guy’s doing! He wants to drive our bias away!” “Sterling Corp is blacklisted for life! Boycott all Sterling products!” Julian Sterling’s PR team was in a frenzy, and his company’s stock price plummeted. When he called me, his voice was laced with suppressed fury: “That photo… was it your doing?” I burst into tears, feigning distress: “I don’t know… I don’t know anything… Mr. Sterling, please let me go, okay? I just want a peaceful life…” The more heartbroken I cried, the more agitated he became. “Alright, stop crying,” he said stiffly, trying to soothe me, then hung up. I knew he was already suspecting Caleb Thorne. Excellent. The first seed of distrust had been sown. The situation escalated even more intensely than I had anticipated. Caleb Thorne’s fans were incredibly aggressive. They not only cyberbullied Julian Sterling but also doxxed Liam Knight and Dr. Elias Thorne, labeling them as “entangled male sidekicks.” A story of love and hate among four people was spun into countless versions online. I, the “amnesiac protagonist,” became an object of universal sympathy. Liam Knight was the first to lose his composure. He directly issued a statement on his family’s corporate social media, clarifying his relationship with me and warning netizens to stop spreading rumors, or face legal action. This statement, undoubtedly, only added fuel to the fire. “Oh, the main character is finally making an appearance? Is he declaring war on Mr. Sterling and Caleb Thorne?” “Knight Industries? Never heard of such a small company. Daring to chase clout?” Liam Knight’s mask of gentle composure cracked for the first time. He found me, his eyes bloodshot: “Anya, come with me. I’ll take you away from here, to a place where no one knows us.” I looked at him and gently shook my head: “Liam, I’m not going anywhere.” I paused, then asked with an innocent tone: “Do you… also think I’m a lot of trouble?” He immediately panicked: “No! That’s not what I meant! Anya, I just…” “I just want to protect you,” he finally said. I smiled. Protect me? In my last life, you used those very words to deceive my father’s trust, then stabbed our family in the back with the cruellest blow. Liam Knight, your devotion is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever witnessed. At the center of this fiasco, Dr. Elias Thorne was, ironically, the one who held his composure best. He didn’t issue any statements, nor did he come looking for me. He simply sent a message promptly every day, reminding me to take my medication and rest, as if the turmoil outside had nothing to do with him. But I knew he cared more than anyone. I deliberately didn’t reply to his messages. On the third day, he finally couldn’t resist and appeared at my doorstep. He looked a bit haggard, and his white coat was slightly disheveled. “Anya, why didn’t you reply to my messages?” He grabbed my wrist, his grip a little too tight. I winced in pain: “Dr. Thorne? You’re hurting me.” He seemed to snap out of it, as if jolted awake, quickly letting go. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes: “I’m sorry, I… I was just so worried about you.” “Are you okay? Don’t believe what they’re saying online.” He explained anxiously, “Liam and I… we’re innocent.” I looked at him and suddenly smiled, a radiant, innocent smile: “Dr. Thorne, I believe you.” I tiptoed, leaning close to his ear, and whispered in a voice only we could hear: “I believe you, just like my dad believed you.” His body instantly stiffened. Dr. Elias Thorne’s face went deathly pale in an instant. He stared at me, his eyes filled with shock, fear, and a hint of disbelieving scrutiny. I maintained my innocent smile, as if what I’d just said was merely an accidental remark. “Dr. Thorne, what’s wrong? You look so pale,” I asked with concern. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. He stumbled away, looking utterly broken and defeated. I closed the door, the smile on my face freezing inch by inch. Dr. Elias Thorne, are you scared now? Don’t rush, this is just the beginning. I will make you crumble, little by little, in endless suspicion and fear. That night, Julian Sterling invited me to dinner. The venue was a private club with excellent discretion. He pulled out my chair, personally served me food, and adopted a very humble posture. “Anya, I was out of line before. I was too eager,” he said, pouring me a glass of juice, his tone softer than ever before. “I’ll clean up the mess online. They won’t bother you anymore.” I lowered my head, stirring the juice in my glass, saying nothing. “I know you don’t remember,” he paused, his voice a little hoarse. “But we used to be… good.” I looked up, meeting his deep eyes, and asked softly, “What was our relationship… before?” He was silent for a long time before he finally said, “I was your… greatest love.” I almost burst out laughing. Greatest love? Julian Sterling, your audacity knows no bounds, it’s truly astounding. “Is that so?” I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. “Then what about Liam? And Caleb? And Dr. Thorne… they all said they were the love of my life.” Julian Sterling’s face darkened: “They’re all lying to you.” “And you?” I pressed, “Are you telling the truth?” He was stumped, a hint of awkwardness flashing across his handsome face. I pressed my advantage, using an innocent cruelty to tear open his feigned devotion. “Mr. Sterling, you all say you love me, but your ‘love’ makes me so uncomfortable.” “Caleb’s fans curse at me, Liam tries to force me to leave, you lock me up, and Dr. Thorne is acting weird.” I put down my glass, stood up, and looked at him earnestly. “If this is love, then I’d rather not have it.” With that, I turned and walked away, without a hint of hesitation. Leaving Julian Sterling sitting alone at the empty dinner table, his face impossibly grim. I knew my words, like a sharp thorn, had dug deep into his heart. He would start to reflect, to scrutinize the other three. And once the gears of suspicion started grinding, there was no turning back. When I got home, Liam Knight was waiting at the door. He saw me step out of Julian Sterling’s car, and the tenderness in his eyes instantly faded, leaving only disappointment and hurt. “Anya, you still went to see him,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. I didn’t explain, just said tiredly, “Liam, I’m exhausted.” He stopped me, asking stubbornly, “Why? You know what kind of person he is!” “What kind of person is he?” I countered. “And what kind of person are you?” Liam Knight froze. I looked at him, saying each word clearly: “You all say you love me, but everything you do hurts me.” “I can’t tell who’s good and who’s bad.” “Liam, tell me, who should I trust?” I tossed the ball back to him. He looked at my clear, bewildered eyes, and all color drained from his face. Yes, what right did he have to criticize Julian Sterling? At the vultures’ feast, carving up the Davies family’s legacy, Liam Knight had also been a guest at the table. He opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, turning away dejectedly. Watching his forlorn back, I felt no joy, only an icy coldness that permeated my bones. It wasn’t enough. Far from enough. The next few days passed quietly. The four men seemed to have reached some unspoken agreement; none of them came to bother me again. But I knew that beneath the calm surface, strong undercurrents surged. Julian Sterling began secretly investigating Knight Industries’ financial situation. Caleb Thorne used his connections to gather evidence of Julian Sterling’s tax evasion.

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We got married less than two weeks after meeting through a blind date. For the first three months after the wedding, we slept in separate rooms. Then one night, he knocked on my door. His voice was husky: “It’s time we consummate this marriage.” Lucas and I had just gotten our marriage license and were driving home. Halfway there, the car suddenly stopped. Lucas unbuckled his seatbelt and said, “Wait here, I’m going to buy something.” “Buy what? Are you feeling sick?” “No, just some essentials.” Left alone in the car, I relaxed my tense nerves. It felt surreal – we were really married now. Lucas and I had met through a blind date set up by my aunt. She had enthusiastically told me: “He’s handsome, from a good family. His parents are both high-ranking government officials.” “He also works for the government, as a detective…” If I didn’t agree, I knew my other aunts would all come knocking with more suggestions. So I reluctantly nodded. When we met, he was just as my aunt described – handsome, nearly 6’2″ tall, with piercing eyes like a hawk. But when he furrowed his brow, he looked fierce and serious. I didn’t dare look up at him. The date didn’t last long, with barely any conversation before we parted ways. I thought that was the end of it, but three days later my aunt called to say he wanted to meet again. I frowned, not really wanting to go. But thinking of Lucas’s intimidating face, I was afraid to refuse in case he showed up at my door. I decided to meet once more to clearly explain my feelings. He suggested meeting at the movie theater. When I arrived, Lucas was already there. He wore a khaki trench coat over a white shirt, with long straight legs ending in black leather shoes. He had a bit of an English gentleman vibe. He seemed less fierce than last time. While waiting in line for tickets, he leaned down close to me. I was suddenly enveloped by the faint scent of his body wash. “Do you want popcorn and soda?” I shook my head, just wanting to get the movie over with. During the film, Lucas was very attentive. He didn’t say anything unnecessary or make any suspicious moves. He was quite well-behaved. As the movie neared its end, I breathed a sigh of relief. When we came out, it had started pouring rain outside with thunder and lightning. The wind carried moisture in the air. Lucas’s car was parked across the street, still some distance away. I hadn’t expected it to rain tonight, so I was going to get wet either way. I decided to just put my bag over my head and make a run for it. Suddenly my wrist was grabbed firmly, almost painfully tight. Lucas quickly loosened his grip when he realized. “Sorry.” He took off his coat: “Use this over your head.” “Let’s go together.” Lucas was tall, so his coat was big enough to cover us both. “Move in closer.” We were very close, our skin occasionally brushing. When my arm accidentally touched his hot chest I quickly pulled it back. Half of Lucas’s body got soaked. His wet hair clung to his forehead, looking a bit messy. “Are you cold?” I shook my head. “You should dry off quickly. Be careful not to catch a cold tomorrow.” The car arrived home as the rain gradually stopped. I unbuckled my seatbelt and forced a faint smile: “Thanks for today. Go take a hot shower when you get home to ward off the chill.” I got out of the car, and the door on the other side opened too. “Did you need something else?” “I’m free this weekend. Want to grab dinner together?” I was about to refuse, but seeing Lucas’s sharp eyes, I swallowed my words. I nodded in agreement. Before our weekend dinner plans, Lucas and I unexpectedly met again due to an incident where a student’s parent violently attacked a teacher. It happened suddenly – I was walking and replying to a message when an angry-looking parent rushed out wielding a stick. “Are you Ms. Wilson?” I nodded, not fully processing what was happening. The stick came down hard on my shoulder. “My child is in the hospital with a concussion because of you…” I let out a muffled cry and collapsed. I tried to speak but my voice was stuck in my throat. I was confused – we always treated those kids like precious treasures, never hitting or scolding them. How could I have beaten a student? The parent was in a rage, about to bring the stick down on my stomach when Lucas appeared and forcefully kicked him away. Lucas was in his police uniform, his face dark with anger. The parent was taken to the police station while Lucas brought me to the hospital. My right shoulder was injured, with bruising and swelling over a large area. “It’s not too serious. I’ll apply some medicine and give you some ointment to use at home daily.” Lucas frowned, his expression grim. The nurse who had been sneaking glances at Lucas earlier now didn’t dare make a sound, her hands shaking as she applied the medicine. “Gentle–” The nurse’s hands were trembling like a sieve. I looked up. Lucas’s expression wasn’t much better, looking quite fierce. I felt helpless. “Why don’t you wait outside?” He gave me a cool look, nodded, and turned to leave, closing the door behind him. The school principal called to express concern. “Principal, this counts as a work injury right? I can’t even lift my arm to write now.” “Take a few days off to rest at home. Come back when you’re healed…” While I felt wronged by the whole incident, hearing I could take a few days off work lifted my mood considerably. In the hallway, Lucas stood ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest, thin lips pressed tightly together. He drew many glances, but his intimidating aura kept people from approaching. “Thank you for today. How did you show up so quickly?” “I happened to be in the area on business.” That night as I was about to sleep, my phone screen lit up. Lucas had sent a message: “The investigation results are in. The injured child just started middle school and was struggling academically. His family is also poor. A teacher deliberately targeted him, punishing him harshly in class for not completing homework. After school, the teacher called him to the office and warned him not to tell anyone. When the parent got home from work, he found the child unconscious and took him to the hospital where they discovered a concussion and other injuries. When questioned about who did it, the student made up a teacher surnamed Wilson…” I read it, feeling conflicted. Teachers’ ethics really needed improvement. I glanced at the time and sent a message back: “You’re still not off work?” “I am. About to shower.” “…” “Rest well. Good night.” “Good night.” As I got to know Lucas better, I found him to be very polite and gentlemanly in his speech and manners, aside from his intimidating demeanor. I thought marriage to someone like him would probably be quite nice. So when Lucas called two weeks later to ask if I wanted to get married, I didn’t hesitate long before agreeing. Lucas tossed a large cardboard box labeled “health products” into the backseat. I didn’t think much of it. There was also a bag of fresh fruit on top which he handed to me. I opened it to find many plump, glistening lychees. I peeled one and popped it in my mouth. As I bit down, the sweet juices burst forth, filling my mouth with a delicious aroma. My mood instantly lightened. Once I started eating them I couldn’t stop, devouring over a dozen in one go. I sighed contentedly at how sweet the lychees were, my fondness for Lucas growing even more. Our new home was a large apartment, simply but elegantly furnished with high-quality pieces. Lucas carried a box into the bedroom. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and I could faintly make out the deep red bedspread contrasting starkly against the white walls. My hazy state of mind suddenly cleared as I realized – tonight would be our wedding night. The thought made my heart race. I felt awkward and flushed bright red. Before this, my only “relationships” had been with fictional characters. I’d never even held hands with a guy in real life. Lucas emerged from the bedroom and glanced at me, furrowing his brow. “Not feeling well?” I shook my head, saying sheepishly, “Just a bit hot.” I opened the fridge and asked, “What do you want for lunch?” He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. He looked slightly surprised. “You can cook?” When we’d visited Lucas’s family before, they had a private chef who made amazing Suzhou cuisine. He nodded and smiled. “I learned to cook for myself when studying abroad. Eating out was too expensive.” Lucas cooked in the kitchen while I busied myself organizing clothes in the bedroom. I opened the closet to find dresses hanging neatly, with a row of new lingerie sets below. The tags were still on – clearly pre-prepared. As I bent to take clothes from my suitcase, I noticed the box he’d brought back from the pharmacy earlier was open. The tape had been removed. I peeked inside to find it full of contraceptives in various flavors. My face instantly flushed red. There was also an unopened box on the nightstand, seemingly prepared specially for tonight. It was hot, and I’d started sweating just from moving around a bit. My hair felt sticky and I didn’t want Lucas to see me looking so disheveled. I grabbed some clothes and quickly ducked into the bathroom to shower. When I came out feeling fresh, Lucas was just coming out of the kitchen, a delicious aroma wafting into the living room. His eyes lingered on me for a moment before quickly looking away. “You showered?” “Yeah, it was too hot earlier and I got all sweaty.” The table was set with braised fish in vinegar sauce, stewed pork ribs with yam, tofu and vegetable soup, and a small dish of pickled vegetables. My mouth watered at the sight. I couldn’t help but give Lucas a thumbs up. “Lucas, you’re amazing! This is Michelin star level!” “So good!” I’d planned to act ladylike in front of him, but the food was just too delicious. I couldn’t resist having an extra bowl of rice.

Lucas got an urgent work call in the afternoon and had to leave in a rush. I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling more at ease by myself. I napped until late afternoon and saw a message from him: “Sorry, I won’t be back for dinner tonight.” I went down to the convenience store to buy some snacks, then watched a movie and read for a while. Looking up at the clock, I saw it was nearly 10pm. I frowned and sent him a message, but got no reply. He must be too busy. I spent my wedding night alone. Lucas called to tell me he’d be away for the whole week – there were new developments in the case and he had to drive to another city overnight. I said I understood. Before we married, my parents had warned me about the demands of Lucas’s job and told me to be understanding and accommodating. For the next few days I ate alone, slept alone, played on my phone alone. I almost forgot I was a married woman. One afternoon as I was returning home from work with a bag of oranges, I ran into a neighbor I’d met recently. He was a university professor with a refined air and gentle smile – the type I used to like. “Off work, Ms. Wilson?” I nodded. “Which middle school do you teach at?” I smiled and named my school. “What a coincidence, my nephew goes there. It’s a good school…” We chatted casually as we walked. Just as I was about to close my door, I realized I’d forgotten to buy cold medicine. I’d left the window open last night and woke up with a stuffy nose after kicking off the covers in my sleep. Ryan mentioned he had some cold medicine and kindly brought over two boxes. I felt bad accepting them and gave him a few oranges from my bag. After showering, I went to the living room to get some water and take the medicine. Suddenly I heard the door handle turn. My heart clenched in fear – a woman living alone, hearing someone at the door… The door opened. It was Lucas. He stood in the entryway changing his shoes, which were muddy. His clothes were wrinkled and he looked exhausted. My racing heart calmed. I asked with concern, “Have you eaten?” His voice was hoarse: “I grabbed something on the way.” Lucas stared at me intently. I looked down and realized why. Home alone, I’d thrown on a thin silk nightgown. The loose fabric clung to my curves, threatening to slip off my shoulders. Most importantly, I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I took a deep breath and calmly went to the bedroom. I closed the door and quickly changed into long sleeves and pants. Less comfortable, but I felt safer. When I came out, he was drinking water. Our eyes met and his gaze seemed meaningful. I nervously looked down and sat on the couch hugging a pillow. “I’m going to shower,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Lost in thought, I heard his voice from above me. I mumbled a vague “Mm-hmm.” The shower ran for 8 minutes before the bathroom door opened. Lucas came out wearing a loose white t-shirt and black shorts. His tall, lean body was on display – muscular arms and legs clearly visible. He went to the fridge for water, tilting his head back as he drank. I watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Not going to bed?” His hair was still damp, clinging to his forehead. His dark eyes seemed misty as he stared at me. I felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze, my face growing warm. “It’s too early, I want to watch TV for a bit.” Lucas glanced at me, then calmly walked to the entryway and flipped a switch. The lights went out, plunging the living room into darkness. The only illumination came from the TV. The couch dipped as he sat next to me, our legs touching. I was suddenly enveloped by the heady scent of his masculine pheromones. My whole body tensed, palms sweating nervously. I tried to subtly scoot away. He suddenly turned and pulled me into his arms, strong hands gripping my shoulders tightly. I stiffly turned my neck, saying softly, “Maybe we should go rest in the bedroom for a bit.” When he’d first come home, I’d noticed dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin. He looked exhausted. Lucas slowly shook his head. “I’ll watch TV with you for a while first.” The living room fell silent again. I’d put on a disaster movie. At first I struggled to focus, but soon got drawn in. As the credits rolled, I heard steady breathing beside me. I gently nudged him. “Lucas–” Before I could finish, he jerked awake and grabbed my arm. In the darkness, his eyes were sharp and cold, brows furrowed fiercely. “Ow–” Lucas paused, then immediately let go. I stared at him wide-eyed, shrinking back. Realizing he’d overreacted, Lucas quickly apologized: “Sorry, it was a reflex.” In his line of work, even the slightest disturbance put him on high alert. Though I understood, I still felt unsettled. If he’d gripped any harder, I wouldn’t be able to hold a piece of chalk tomorrow. Still shaken, I put a hand to my chest. I managed a dry “It’s fine, just be more careful next time.” Seeing his distress, I felt a pang of sympathy. I couldn’t help adding: “Really, don’t worry about it. Go get some sleep.” As I spoke, I yawned and headed to my room. I glanced back to see Lucas hadn’t followed. I lay down and pulled up the covers. The bedroom door opened and I tensed slightly. Lucas came in with a glass of warm milk. “Mom said you need this to sleep well.” I quietly thanked him as I took the glass. Under Lucas’s watchful gaze, I silently drank the entire glass of milk. “I’m turning off the lights.” “Okay.” He reached for the switch, then lay down. I scooted to the very edge of the bed, almost falling off. Moonlight filtered softly through the thin curtains into the bedroom. The room was filled only with the sound of steady breathing. Lucas rolled over– I held my breath. “Does your hand still hurt?” I shook my head, my voice stiff: “It’s…fine now.” After a while, Lucas spoke again, his voice low and husky: “Emma–” “Hmm?” “Move over a bit, you’re about to fall off.” “Oh.” I inched over bit by bit. When the thin silk of my nightgown brushed against his hot skin, my back stiffened and I broke out in a sweat. The room’s intimate atmosphere intensified. I didn’t dare move my legs. Just as I was about to roll over to put some distance between us, Lucas reached out and pulled me into his arms, pressing our bodies tightly together. My face burned hot. He wore a t-shirt, but I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Sweat started to bead on my forehead. This position was uncomfortable. I turned onto my side. Our eyes met– His pitch-black eyes looked calm, but I could feel the heat in his gaze. Feeling like things were about to progress if I didn’t say something, I gently pushed against him and tentatively said: “Um, Lucas, can we sleep in separate rooms? I toss and turn a lot and get up at night. I might disturb your sleep.” There was a long silence beside me. Finally, his calm voice said: “Alright, I’ll sleep in the guest room.” I was taken aback that he agreed so quickly. “Lucas, you’re not upset are you?” He chuckled and shook his head. I breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good.” Lucas’s voice softened: “Emma, I know we rushed into marriage. You still need time to adjust. I respect your choice, but I hope you won’t make me wait too long.” He got up and took fresh bedding from the closet to the guest room. That night I dreamed Lucas and I were rolling from one end of the bed to the other. It felt so real that my face was still flushed when I woke up. I scratched my head, wondering why I’d had such a dream.

Lucas knocked on the door: “Emma, breakfast is ready.” I usually didn’t have much appetite in summer mornings. But seeing the sesame noodles, scallion pancakes, and mung bean porridge on the table made my mouth water. “Lucas, what time did you get up to make all this?” “6am.” I had been sound asleep at that hour. My face reddened slightly in embarrassment. I picked up a spoon, about to add sugar to my porridge. He brought over a glass of water first: “Don’t eat yet, drink some warm water first. It’s good for you.” I looked up at him. Only then did I notice his hair was damp and his face slightly flushed. He wore athletic shorts and a t-shirt, the front soaked with sweat. I could faintly make out the lines of his body under the shirt – all muscle, but lean rather than bulky. “Did you go for a run earlier?” He nodded. “Mm. You eat first, I need a quick shower.” Without the comparison, I wouldn’t have realized how lazy I was. I decided I’d cook dinner tonight. I couldn’t let him do everything. … After work I stopped by the supermarket. I bought some groceries, having asked Lucas’s mom what dishes he liked. Passing the frozen section, I saw ice cream on sale. I tossed six pints into my cart. By the time I got home it was dark outside, and I was alone in the house. I finished cooking, but Lucas still wasn’t back. I glanced at the clock – he should be off work by now. Just as I was about to call him, my phone rang. “Emma, I have to work late tonight. I might get back pretty late.” “Okay, have you eaten?” “I’m busy right now, I’ll grab something from the cafeteria later.” “Get some rest early, don’t wait up for me. Remember to lock the door.” “Captain Lu…” I heard someone calling him on the other end. We only chatted briefly before he hung up. I looked at the steaming beef and lotus root rib soup on the table. I went to the kitchen and packed some food in a thermos… I took a taxi to the police station. When the guard asked who I was, I said I was Lucas’s wife. It felt a bit awkward saying those words – I felt embarrassed. The guard’s eyes lit up when he heard that. He enthusiastically led me inside. When I saw Lucas, he was poring over case files with a cigarette in his mouth, brows furrowed. I squinted slightly – this was the first time I’d seen Lucas smoke. I’d never smelled smoke on him before, so I assumed he didn’t. Lucas looked up and saw me, seeming surprised. He quickly took a final drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. He jogged over, took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. His gaze was deep, hiding a smile. Someone nearby started teasing: “Captain, who’s this?” The guard laughed and said, “It’s the Captain’s wife.” “Captain got married? When are you treating us to the wedding banquet?” “Quick, look – the Captain’s wife brought him dinner!” It was my first time at the police station and I felt nervous. A group of young, energetic officers in training called out greetings, addressing me as “sister-in-law”. It was quite lively. My face turned bright red from the attention. Lucas smiled faintly and said, “Thanks Uncle Li. We just got our marriage license recently, haven’t had the wedding yet. I’ll invite you all when we do.” The guard smiled and left, telling us to spend some time together. Lucas’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “There’s watermelon inside. I picked it up from a farm earlier – it’s very sweet.” I held up the thermos and smiled. “I made a couple dishes and brought them over.” We went inside and Lucas closed the door. He took out a watermelon, wiped it clean, and quickly cut it in half. He stuck a spoon in one half. His dark eyes stared at me intently. Feeling shy under his gaze, I tried to make conversation: “This watermelon is too big, I can’t finish it all.” “If you can’t finish, leave it here. I’ll eat it later.” My face reddened slightly. Growing up, only my dad would eat my leftovers. Now there was a second man willing to do so – it felt strange. “Hurry and eat your dinner. The food won’t taste as good if it gets cold.” “Have you eaten?” I shook my head. I’d been so eager to bring the food over that I hadn’t eaten yet. “I’ll eat when I get home.” Knowing he had a big appetite from all his training, I’d packed extra food. He took out a pair of disposable chopsticks from a drawer and handed them to me. “Let’s eat together.” Lucas put a slice of beef in my bowl. “Eat more, your waist is too thin.” His blunt words startled me and I choked. Lucas’s mom had said he liked spicy food, so I’d added extra Sichuan peppercorns and chili when cooking. Now as I choked, I felt awful. My face turned red as I coughed, breaking out in a sweat. Lucas hurriedly stood up and patted my back to help me breathe. “Have some water.” I gulped down water from the cup he handed me, finally managing to catch my breath. I looked up at Lucas. His brows were deeply furrowed, expression serious. He looked a hundred times fiercer than usual. “You can’t handle spicy food. Don’t use so much chili when cooking.” I felt wronged. “I only made it spicy because you like it.” “And I only choked because you said something shocking.” He fell silent and walked out the door. Did we just have our first fight? I watched his figure disappear into the night through the window, feeling an inexplicable sense of loss. Eight minutes later, Lucas returned carrying a bag filled with various candies. Acting as if nothing had happened, he unwrapped a lemon flavored candy. “Open your mouth.” The sweet and sour candy melted on my tongue, making the spiciness fade. Lucas asked gently, “How is it? Feeling better?” I nodded. “You shouldn’t eat this dinner. I’ll make you something when we get home.” I felt bad for misjudging him earlier. “It’s okay, the lotus root soup isn’t spicy. I can eat it with rice.” “Alright, I’ll eat the spicy beef. You drink all the soup.” “Wait for me to finish up work and we’ll go home together.” Lucas ate quickly, polishing off his meal in 5 minutes. He sat down at the computer, looking focused. I don’t like having people around when I’m working, so while Lucas reviewed case files, I got up to take a walk outside. I ran into one of his coworkers – tall, handsome, and very friendly. “Hey sis, let’s exchange contact info. I’ll add you to our family group chat.” “Our Captain never had a girlfriend before. The bureau chief tried to set him up once, but the girl thought he was too intimidating and busy…” James was quite funny, able to make me laugh with just a few words. “Emma, time to go.” Lucas stood behind me, tall and straight-backed, holding his briefcase and the thermos. “Bye sis!” I smiled and waved goodbye to James.

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After I started dating Leo, my Good Luck System suddenly vanished. Meanwhile, his childhood friend, Brittany, rocketed from dead last in her class to number one. She even won a ten-million-dollar lottery, earning everyone’s envy. But my life became a nightmare. I was constantly drained and plagued by bad luck. That’s when it hit me: Leo had transferred my Good Luck System to his childhood friend. I confronted them, but Leo just shrugged. “Chloe, you had such an amazing system and weren’t using it properly. I transferred it to Brittany so it could be put to good use!” Brittany was even more arrogant. “Wondering why you’ve been so unlucky lately? Because I also have a Bad Luck System.” “If you don’t want to die, I suggest you shut up.” I just smiled. They didn’t believe me, but my Good Luck System had a specific rule. Abusing it would lead to a backlash. Plus, the Good Luck System had chosen me as its true owner. What was mine would always be mine. I was just waiting for the day they’d regret everything!

Even after I stopped arguing, Brittany wouldn’t let me leave. She declared she was going to teach me a lesson and ordered Leo to do it for her. “Leo, it’s our first day together. Why don’t you personally give her a little lesson?” Leo hesitated for a second, then nodded. In less than a moment, my insides screamed with pain. Leo completely dropped his simp act. His voice was condescending. “Chloe, how does it feel to be in excruciating pain?” “They say cancer pain is the absolute worst kind. My grandpa had it. Now, you’re experiencing it for him, so I guess I can feel like I’m doing something good for my family.” I grabbed Leo’s sleeve, my hatred boiling. I wanted to tear him apart. He let me pull him closer, taking a perverse pleasure in my agony. “You honestly thought I pursued you because I liked you? I just wanted to confirm if that Good Luck System was really yours.” “Chloe, I never liked you. I hated that aloof attitude of yours.” The torment left me speechless. I watched Brittany lean against Leo’s shoulder, her voice soft. “Leo, you don’t blame me for making you use your last transfer ability, do you?” Leo ran a hand through Brittany’s hair, a doting smile on his face. “Of course not. I know what you’re thinking. This way, no one can ever take your Good Luck System away.” “This ability only had two uses anyway, and both were well spent.” Brittany’s smile grew wider. She confidently promised Leo, “Leo, don’t worry. I’ll share my good luck with you.” As she promised, Brittany didn’t forget to trash-talk me. “I would never be as selfish as Chloe!” “She actually said abusing the Good Luck System would cause a backlash! She must think we’re idiots!” They gazed at each other, lovingly, right in front of me. Just then, a classmate ran over to say the awards ceremony was starting and told Brittany and me to head over. Brittany vanished in an instant. This was a national math competition. The department faculty had been counting on me, really grooming me to win. But on the day of the competition, I tripped over absolutely nothing and missed the whole thing. Brittany came back with the trophy. The department threw an awards ceremony, and Brittany became the faculty’s new darling. I walked with heavy steps, my forehead beaded with sweat from the pain. Brittany rushed over to support me, exclaiming, “Oh my god, Chloe, are you sick? Do you need a doctor?” The department head immediately looked at me with concern. After all, I was still one of their star students. Seeing me like this, they immediately called the school nurse and took me to the infirmary. Brittany smirked, telling the department head, “Chloe, the award ceremony is starting and you’re sick? What a coincidence. The doctor will know if you’re really ill when they get here.” In that instant, I understood Brittany’s game. This transferred pain wouldn’t show up in any medical tests. The department head would just think I was faking illness to skip the ceremony. Suddenly, the Good Luck System’s voice echoed in my mind. “Host, Brittany is trying to harm you again!”

My eyes lit up. The pain in my body significantly lessened with the Good Luck System’s words. “You… you mean you’re coming back?” I was so excited I stammered. The system’s voice was low, “Not yet, Host, but soon. Brittany just needs to abuse me one more time before I can return.” “But she’s been using me too much these past few days, so the backlash is coming for her soon!” “Oh, and guess what? Brittany’s Bad Luck System has already been subdued by me! It can’t come out and help Brittany cause any more trouble.” My heart swelled with joy, and a smile unconsciously curved on my lips, even as the pain washed over me again. I cried out a few times, but before I could ask if it could ease my suffering, the school nurse arrived. Brittany dragged Dr. Alex over to me. “Dr. Alex, can you tell if Chloe is genuinely sick?” Dr. Alex’s voice was cool and steady. “She’s not sick.” Brittany got the answer she wanted and raised her voice. “Aha, Chloe! You’re faking it! Just because I won, you’re intentionally trying to skip the award ceremony, aren’t you?” The department head looked at me strangely. Dr. Alex scoffed. “Brittany, didn’t you hear my tone just now? How would I know what illness she has without examining her?” “Why are you so eager to say Chloe is faking it?” Brittany was stumped. The department faculty realized their mistake and quickly told Dr. Alex to take me for an examination. The dean cleared his throat. “Well, then, let’s postpone the awards ceremony for another day.” Brittany stood there, dumbfounded. Dr. Alex took me to the examination room. I was about to thank him for what happened earlier when he pulled out a bottle from a cabinet, poured out a pill, and quickly popped it into my mouth before I could react. It melted instantly on my tongue. I didn’t even have a chance to spit it out. Before I could question him, the pain in my body vanished. I stared at Dr. Alex, wide-eyed with surprise. “I’m all better!” He gave a slight smile. “No need to thank me. I have a Special Healing System.” Our eyes met. I understood what Dr. Alex meant and muttered to myself, *So many people are binding systems these days.* But I really was lucky. *I wonder if Brittany will be furious when she finds out!* As I thought that, a gust of wind swept by. The bottle of medicine Dr. Alex had placed on the table was snatched by Brittany, who then swallowed its entire contents. Right after that, Leo rushed in, breathless. “Dr. Alex, please check Brittany! She’s not feeling well!” Entering the room, Leo also saw Brittany, who had just downed the whole bottle of pills. He frowned, a hint of accusation in his voice. “Brittany, why are you taking random medicine?” Brittany was drenched in cold sweat. She pointed at Dr. Alex. “He cured Chloe!” Leo didn’t stop her, but his gaze at me was filled with resentment. Ten minutes later, Brittany’s furious roar echoed through the room. “Chloe, you poisoned me!”

Brittany’s loud shout drew the department faculty, who hurried to the scene. Brittany was already slumped on the floor, her face contorted in pain. I looked at Dr. Alex, who shrugged and said four words: “I can’t help her.” I almost burst out laughing. I knew Brittany was suffering from the backlash. Leo knelt beside her, gazing at her with loving eyes. “Is the medicine not working?” Brittany was sweating profusely, shaking her head frantically. She turned to the faculty. “Teachers, please control Chloe! She’s going to kill me!” The teachers didn’t question me. Instead, they asked Dr. Alex to examine Brittany. After a thorough check, Dr. Alex presented the results to everyone. The conclusion was that Brittany was perfectly healthy. Brittany became even more convinced I had harmed her. “It was Chloe! Chloe tricked me into taking this medicine!” “Chloe, you must be in unbearable pain too right now, you’re just faking it to trick me into taking the medicine!” I sneered. “Brittany, words mean nothing. I could say you’re slandering me!” “There’s surveillance in this room. It’ll be clear who’s lying and who has ill intentions.” The department faculty nodded and had the surveillance footage pulled up. After watching it, Dr. Alex spoke. “Chloe had a headache, and this is headache medicine. Who knew Brittany would snatch it and take it all herself?” Brittany’s face turned beet red as she tried to argue, “You’re lying! You clearly said you had a Special Healing System, and besides, Chloe’s ‘illness’ wasn’t a headache at all!” Brittany was spiraling out of control. The faculty members were normal people; they had no idea what a “system” was. After Brittany’s prolonged tantrum, even the most patient department faculty couldn’t help but get angry. “Brittany, while the department is pleased you won an award, that’s no excuse for you to target Chloe like this!” “The award ceremony doesn’t need to be postponed. It’s canceled altogether.” The faculty didn’t linger. Only Chloe, Dr. Alex, Brittany, and Leo remained in the room. Hatred flickered in Brittany’s eyes. She once again demanded to know what I had “poisoned” her with. I stated the truth again. “I told you, it’s the backlash from abusing the system, isn’t it?” Brittany still didn’t believe me. Her eyes narrowed. “Chloe, you’re a classic case of not seeing the coffin until you’re in it!” “Since we were classmates, I’ll let you choose how you die.” “Do you want to be crushed by something falling from a height, run over by a car, or stabbed by thugs?” I smiled faintly. “Sorry, I choose none of the above.” Brittany still didn’t realize her Bad Luck System was gone. “You don’t get a choice!” “If you don’t choose, I will. Let’s go with getting run over. That’ll be a beautiful sight.” “People like you don’t deserve to live!” I was about to tell Brittany to stop dreaming when a voice cut in. “Yeah!” A crowd of classmates suddenly poured into the room. They surrounded Brittany, united in their resentment towards me. “Brittany, we just heard what happened. We totally believe Chloe hurt you.” “Yeah, Chloe’s so selfish. She’s nothing like you, Brittany, so kind and beautiful.” … I looked at each person speaking: Ashley, my desk-mate, and Jessica, my childhood friend. They used to be my best friends. After Brittany won the lottery and handed them a few crumbs, they all turned on me and sided with Brittany, isolating me instead. Yet, I had never treated them badly before. I never even used the Good Luck System to win a lottery myself. I only used it a handful of times, always to help others. Brittany, her face pale from the backlash, lifted her chin, basking in their compliments. Leo lifted his eyelids slightly and addressed the students surrounding Brittany. “Since you all think Chloe is so despicable, why don’t you beat her up and let Brittany vent her anger?” Ashley and the others hesitated. Brittany’s face darkened. “You won’t even help me with something this small? Are you not truly my friends? You can forget about getting any more favors from me in the future!” Ashley and the others began to step closer to me. Beyond disheartened, I spoke calmly. “If Brittany is so great, why doesn’t she share her good luck with all of you?” Ashley and the others froze. When Brittany won the lottery with the Good Luck System, she gave Ashley and the others benefits every day.

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My wife has always been cold and distant. In the ten years we’ve been married, she’s never said she loves me. Before I died, I discovered a love letter she had been preparing for years. But my name wasn’t on it. It turns out she was only indifferent towards me. After getting a second chance at life, the first thing I did was cancel our engagement and help her deliver the love letter. She turned red with anger and yelled at me for the first time: “Jack, who asked you to meddle in my business?” 0An hour before the elevator accident, I was cleaning the attic when I found a yellowed love letter. The handwriting was familiar, as was the signature. But the name at the beginning wasn’t mine. It was a love letter Fiona had written to another guy. In the moment the elevator fell, I was still thinking— I never got to know who the man she liked was, what he looked like, or if he was much better than me. When I woke up again, the sun outside was blinding. My head was fuzzy, and my friend William sighed beside me: “You’re finally awake. You scared me to death earlier. Luckily, someone reacted quickly and brought you to the infirmary.” The boy in front of me, wearing a high school uniform, made me feel disoriented for a moment. Seventeen-year-old William? The warm sensation on my hand told me this wasn’t a dream. I really had been given a second chance at life! Footsteps echoed from the doorway, and a figure emerged from the light, appearing before me. “Are you okay?” Fiona looked at me coolly, holding bread and milk in her hands. Familiar memories suddenly flooded back. That’s right, I had overslept that day and didn’t have time for breakfast. I fainted during PE class due to low blood sugar. Fiona handed me the food and watched me eat. That morning, Fiona’s class had a physics quiz, but she skipped it because of me. Later, she was scolded by her homeroom teacher. At seventeen, I was still lost in the fantasy that she cared about me, but with my 32-year-old mindset, I now knew clearly that Fiona was only taking care of me because she had promised my father. Fiona’s father and my dad were war buddies. After Fiona’s father died in the line of duty, her mother took the compensation money and ran off. My dad, seeing Fiona alone and helpless, took her in and raised her. Because she was dependent on us, she always listened to my dad and never dared to disobey. From that day on, Fiona became my little shadow. Everyone teased us behind our backs, saying I had an obedient childhood sweetheart. Later, when my dad noticed my feelings, he joked about Fiona becoming our daughter-in-law. She didn’t say a word. Back then, I thought she was just shy and reserved. Now that I think about it, I was such a fool. During class, I was distracted, constantly replaying the events of my past life. I didn’t want to ruin Fiona’s life again. Perhaps if we didn’t get married, she would be happier, and I wouldn’t die either. After the evening study session, the teacher kept us for an extra ten minutes. When class was finally over, students rushed out in a flurry. As I packed up my things, I saw Fiona waiting for me at the door, her head lowered as she looked at her error correction book. The light shone on her, making her appear even more aloof and cold. As we walked out of the school building, silence hung between us. Fiona was always like this – cold, indifferent, as if nothing interested her. I watched her back and suddenly stopped in my tracks. “Fiona, you go ahead. You don’t need to walk with me anymore, and you don’t have to wait for me in the future either.” “Why?” “No reason.” You’re free, Fiona. I headed towards the back street of the school, planning to buy some exercise books to improve my lackluster math skills. The person behind me caught up, asking coolly: “Jack, what’s wrong now?” “Is it because I arrived too late this morning? Or you didn’t like the milk I bought? The store only had that flavor left…” The moonlight shone on her, cold and clear. Her gaze seemed to say: What are you up to now? I tried to explain: “It’s really not that. The college entrance exam is coming up soon, everyone’s time is precious. You don’t need to waste yours on me. I need to study hard too.” Fiona stood there, stunned. It was probably the first time she had heard me say something like this. I used to love sticking close to Fiona. I didn’t get into North City University, but Fiona did. However, because of a single comment from my dad, she chose to stay in our hometown with me. At the time, I foolishly thought she liked me and just wouldn’t say it out loud. She must have regretted it, after all, that was her dream university. 0

Fiona didn’t follow me this time. I walked into the bookstore and picked out a few workbooks suitable for my level, along with a composition guide. When I went to pay, I realized the money in my pocket was gone. Puzzled, I retraced my steps through the store but couldn’t find it. I wasn’t sure if it had been stolen or if I had dropped it somewhere. I sighed, planning to come back and buy the books tomorrow. As I turned to leave, I bumped into someone. “Whoa!” the person exclaimed, dropping their comic book but managing to protect the bowl of barbecue in their hands. “I’m sorry.” “It’s you again?” The familiar voice and intonation caught me off guard. I looked closely and realized it was Sophie. My best friend from university – how did I run into her now? “What a coincidence, classmate. My friend and I took you to the infirmary when you fainted this morning. Are you feeling better?” “Oh… yeah, I’m fine. Thank you…” I was caught off guard, never realizing we had such an encounter in my previous life. Sophie picked up her comic book and, noticing my hesitation, took the books from my hand and paid for them along with hers. “I saw you wandering around the store earlier, like you were looking for something. What’s up, did you lose your money?” I nodded quickly, impressed by her observation skills. No wonder she would become a criminal investigator in the future. I told her I’d pay her back tomorrow, but Sophie waved it off. “Just treat me to a meal tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.” As we walked out onto the back street, the night had grown quiet with only a few students passing by. Noticing a group of delinquents smoking together not far ahead, I turned to Sophie and offered to walk her home. I went to the garage and retrieved a black motorcycle. After dropping her off at her building, the roar of the motorcycle finally died down. She was worried about disturbing the neighbors and asked me to keep it down when leaving. I smirked, “Can’t keep it down, I’m afraid. My baby’s just that powerful.” “…” That came out sounding weird. When I got home, I ran into Fiona at the entrance of our apartment complex. Strange, didn’t I tell her to go back first? How come she’s even slower than me? Fiona and I went up together, an inexplicable pressure building in the silence. As the elevator doors closed, she suddenly spoke: “Is that girl the reason you’re trying so hard?” “…No, we just happened to meet.” “What a coincidence.” Her tone was flat, as if she didn’t care much, so I didn’t bother explaining further. Back home, Fiona would usually finish her homework and then take a shower. While she was in the bathroom, I snuck into her room and found the love letter. She always hid things in the same place – under a stack of books. Easy to find. I opened the letter, pondering who this “Lucas” could be. Maybe it was someone from her class? Given how cold she always is, I doubt she’d ever catch up to anyone else. Well, why don’t I give her a hand? 0

The next day, I went to school with dark circles under my eyes. After investigating all night, I discovered there were no boys named Lucas in Fiona’s class, only two girls with that surname. Math class went by in a blur again. Even with a second chance at life, the problems I couldn’t solve before were still beyond me. It seems the gap between Fiona and me was destined to remain unbridgeable. At lunch, I was about to go meet Sophie when I found Fiona waiting for me at the classroom door, holding a bag of my favorite roast chicken. “Didn’t I tell you not to wait for me anymore? You should do whatever you want.” “Oh.” She handed me the bag. “Thanks, but you don’t need to buy this for me in the future.” “…” Fiona looked at me, puzzled, and sighed slightly: “Jack, what have I done to upset you? You’ve been avoiding me lately.” “It’s not your problem, it’s mine. I’ve just realized some things.” I walked towards the cafeteria, then remembered something and turned back to her seriously: “By the way, when my dad said you should be my wife, he was just joking. You don’t have to take it seriously or listen to him too much.” “Fiona, good luck with your college entrance exam. Go to your dream university.” “…” Fiona frowned, as if not understanding why I was saying all this. I arrived at the cafeteria where Sophie had already found a table and was waiting for me. “What’s this?” Sophie glanced at the bag in my hand. “Roast chicken. Here, you can have it. Thanks for helping me yesterday.” “Hey, no need to be so formal.” Sophie waved it off but couldn’t resist the aroma of the chicken and ended up eating a drumstick. One thing led to another. She was eating with gusto, her mouth covered in oil. I was about to remind her when a cold voice interrupted. “So this is why you had to get rid of me. You two are dating?” Sophie nearly choked in surprise. I turned around to meet Fiona’s cold gaze, feeling as if I’d been caught cheating. No, no, we’re not a couple anymore. “It’s not like that. We just met, we’re just classmates…” I was telling the truth, but Fiona impatiently cut me off: “You don’t need to explain to me. “I won’t tell Uncle about this. There’s no need to avoid me in the future.” She said coldly, turning away with a hint of anger. Sophie came back and quietly asked me who that was. Seeing her gossipy look, she probably thought Fiona and I were a couple. I briefly explained our situation, and Sophie nodded in understanding. “Oh, childhood sweethearts, huh? She seems to care about you a lot.” “…It’s not like that.” Fiona couldn’t wait to get rid of me.

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I was bound to a system. It told me I was the female lead in a sweet romance novel, and my childhood friend was the male lead. But the story had gone off track. The system demanded I win over the male lead, achieve a sweet ending, and save the world. Yet, after three years of trying to pursue him, Jaxon detested me. The moment he saw me, his face was filled with impatience. He even frequently hurled insults my way. Finally, after I approached him proactively one more time, he said: “You act like such a simp, constantly clinging to me. It’s genuinely sickening. I like Luna. Can’t you just like someone else?” “Host, detecting you have one opportunity to change your target. Would you like to switch?” “Switch! Switch immediately! Switch right now! I should have switched ages ago!” I instantly replied to the system. Whatever the reason for changing targets, I was immensely grateful. “Host, please wait. Retrieving data…” I waited intently for the system’s reply. Completely ignoring the dog-like human beside me. Jaxon was handsome, with a wild aura. His big, bright eyes were so clear and soulful, he could make a brick wall seem romantic. But at this moment, his slightly reddened thin lips curled in scorn, spitting out cruel words without mercy. “You always act like some kind of stalker, following me around and obsessing over me. It’s disgusting. Do less of that from now on.” “Ah, yes, yes, yes.” The disgust in Jaxon’s eyes deepened. He turned his head away, as if I were something dirty, beneath his notice. I secretly rubbed my hands together, buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the system to churn out a new target for me. Jaxon and I were childhood friends. We’d known each other since we were five, and it had been sixteen years. When I first learned Jaxon was my target, I was secretly happy for a long time. At five, Jaxon protected me from other kids bullying me. He didn’t say a word and took on three of them, then got a good beating. Even though he lost badly, I was completely unharmed. At eight, I fell out of a tree in the wilderness and hurt my leg. Jaxon cried the entire way as he practically dragged me home. Though I ended up more injured from the dragging, he didn’t abandon me when I was scared. At fourteen, my first period started, and I was so mortified I couldn’t even bring myself to go to the restroom during class. It was him who took off his jacket to cover me and, blushing, went to the supermarket to buy me pads. … Before I turned eighteen, I was the only girl in Jaxon’s circle. Back then, he genuinely treated me so, so well. I liked him. I thought he liked me too, at least a little bit. I imagined if Jaxon was the target, we’d quickly achieve our happy ending. Never thought… Three years. A full three years. His favorability for me just kept plummeting, and honestly, mine for him did too. It must be in the negatives by now. I sincerely prayed in my heart. “Oh, all-powerful deities, Buddha, Saints above, please, please, grant me a normal, handsome guy, at least 6 feet tall, with a killer physique for a target!” “I’d willingly trade thirty years of Jaxon’s life for it!” Jaxon said impatiently, “I’m never going to be with you in this lifetime. Now get lost.” I didn’t even clearly hear what Jaxon said, just casually brushing him off, “Mm, okay, okay.” I focused on my silent prayer, this one just my safety net. “God, please grant me a normal target. I, your humble servant, would trade thirty years of Jaxon being forced to eat kale for it. Amen.” Jaxon looked at me for a moment, slightly surprised, then disdainfully turned away again. Jaxon’s friend, Leo, came to find him: “Jax, Luna, the campus queen, is waiting for us in the VIP booth. Let’s go!” “Alright.” Leo: “Jax, I just heard Elara say she’s not going to bother you anymore. You really don’t care?” Jaxon scoffed, “Do you believe that? It’s just a new trick to get my attention.” “You watch, in a few days, when that doesn’t work, she’ll be sticking to me like glue again.” “She loves me too much to let go.” Leo: “That’s our Jaxon, always knows how to handle his women.” “Enough. Why are we talking about her? It’s disgusting.”

Standing in place, I stared at the system panel. “Host, your new target is Caleb.” Caleb was the school’s academic genius, smart and from a good family. He and Jaxon were hailed as the school’s male idols. He was the secret crush of countless girls at school, but because he was so outstanding, few dared to confess. Most importantly, Caleb was over 6 feet tall, handsome, I hadn’t seen his physique but it must be good, and he had no rumored relationships, completely single. I laughed out loud in delight, deciding I’d visit a temple and light some incense when I got a chance. I had to properly thank all the deities. I started gathering information on Caleb’s whereabouts, planning to orchestrate a casual encounter. I heard Caleb was at the library. I found a pretty floral dress, put on light makeup, and tied my hair into pigtails. Going for a pure and innocent vibe. I grabbed a book I’d borrowed before, planning to use returning it as an excuse to make an impression on Caleb. But just as I was about to head out. I got a call from Jaxon. He immediately started giving haughty orders: “Luna wants desserts from the Sweet Haven. Go buy a few, and pair them with some boba tea. Deliver them within half an hour.” I wasn’t angry at all. Honestly, if I truly let myself get angry with Jaxon, I’d probably explode and become a walking drama bomb. “Jaxon, find someone else or go buy them yourself. I’m busy, I don’t have time for you.” Jaxon completely ignored me, finished his spiel, and hung up: “Hurry up, I’ll only wait half an hour. Even when you’re playing hard to get, know your limits.” Psychopath, narcissist, self-absorbed jerk. Ugh, such a turn-off!!! I cursed him under my breath and blocked his number. Not having to deal with Jaxon the Maniac, watching him throw a fit, was simply wonderful. Finally, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting stress-related illnesses anymore. At the library, I pretended to stand there returning a book, but my eyes were scanning nonstop, trying to pinpoint Caleb’s location. Soon, I found him. It wasn’t that my eyesight was exceptional; it was that Caleb practically glowed, and his handsomeness was on a whole other level compared to everyone else. I secretly made a decision to work on my complexion when I got back. Otherwise, standing next to him, I’d just be the background, like a firefly next to a street lamp. Alright, next up, the approach. The most inconspicuous yet noticeable accidental encounter in a library is probably standing on opposite sides of the same bookshelf as Caleb, pulling out a book, and then our eyes meeting. When our eyes met, I should subtly smile. It was both sweet and romantic, and easy to execute. Ugh, darn it, that trick wouldn’t work. The school bookshelves were double-layered; you’d have to pull out two books to make eye contact. The chances of Caleb and I simultaneously pulling out opposing books and achieving that “across the bookshelf eye contact” feat were too low. And if I pulled a book after he did, just to meet his eyes, it would be too obvious. Gotta think of something else. Got it! The bookshelves are so tall; it’s perfectly normal for me not to reach a book. Caleb is such a tall, strong guy; he’d probably be happy to help a delicate girl like me grab a book, right? As long as he helps, we’d have a connection, an excuse to talk to him, ask for his help, invite him to dinner. One thing leading to another, we’d get to know each other, and feelings would develop. Hey, if it works, it works. Once I had a plan, I immediately put it into action. I walked to a bookshelf not far from Caleb, randomly picked a book, and began to stand on my tiptoes, reaching for it, putting on a full show of being able to touch it but not quite grab it. But after reaching for a while, no one came to help. I subtly turned my head, using my peripheral vision to see what Caleb was doing. Only to find that spot empty. I stepped back from the bookshelf and saw Caleb already seated in the reading area. I inwardly grumbled that he was so oblivious. I went to the fiction section and picked out a romance novel that suited my taste.

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The day I received my wife’s diagnosis, she suddenly installed a camera in our bedroom. That night, I saw her swear on the phone: “I won’t let him touch me again. I’ve sent you the account and password. You can log in and check anytime.” “I’ve decided to stay chaste for love.” Watching her flushed, impassioned face, I silently put the diagnosis report into the shredder. Stay chaste for love… Well, let’s make it a lifetime then. When I saw the letters “ALS” on Arianna’s diagnosis report, I nearly lost my balance. Three months ago, Arianna was injured in a hiking accident. During her hospital stay, I had the doctors do a comprehensive checkup, hoping for peace of mind. I never expected such a result. “ALS currently has no cure. We can only use medication to slow its progression, but the final outcome is irreversible,” the doctor said, looking at me sympathetically. Arianna was the quintessential career woman. Beautiful features, but not delicate. Her every move exuded a composed and elegant feminine charm. As a renowned divorce lawyer, she was brilliant and rational despite being a woman – a steel magnolia in her colleagues’ eyes. In private life, she was disciplined and routine-oriented, enjoying fitness and hiking, extremely particular about quality of life. I couldn’t bear to imagine someone like her becoming a helpless ALS patient in the future. Sitting on a street corner, watching the endless stream of people, I slowly stood up after a long while. I had made up my mind. As husband and wife, we should face everything together. No matter what she becomes in the future, I will face it with our son by her side. It was dark when I got home. Our son Ethan was quietly playing chess in his room. At seven years old, he had reached the level of chess master and had been interviewed on TV as a “child prodigy”. “Have you eaten?” I asked him gently, adjusting my mood. “Yes, the nanny made pork rib soup today,” he replied without looking up, focused on the chessboard. “Where’s Mom?” “She went for a run.” Ethan was quiet by nature, speaking concisely and clearly. Just like us. Two hours later, as I was lying in bed debating whether to tell Arianna about her condition, she came back. Wearing a hoodie and yoga pants, her whole figure looked graceful and spirited. I became anxious, “It’s only a few degrees outside, why are you dressed so lightly?” One of the precautions the doctor had mentioned today was that ALS patients produce less heat due to muscle atrophy and shouldn’t get cold, as it would accelerate the disease progression. Arianna’s face was expressionless as she said flatly: “This is how I always dress for running.” She opened the box in her hand and took out a camera, setting it up on the dresser opposite the bed. Pointing right at the bed. I was a bit confused. “Why are you suddenly installing a camera?” “There have been some burglaries in the neighborhood. Having surveillance is safer.” “Aren’t you worried about privacy?” I asked hesitantly, knowing Arianna was extremely concerned about personal privacy. She glanced at me and scoffed: “Privacy? Who’s interested in your privacy?” Various emotions swirled in my heart, but I didn’t want to argue with her. Before bed, she lay down with her back to me, far away, clearly too exhausted to talk. I sighed inwardly. She had just finished a high-profile celebrity divorce case. Let her relax for now that the pressure was off. In the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly, my mind unsettled. The bed beside me was empty. Arianna wasn’t there. I felt a surge of panic and got up to look for her. On the balcony, she was making a phone call in the night breeze, wearing only a thin nightgown. I hurried over with a coat. “I won’t let him touch me again…” Her soft voice reached me, and I paused. “I’ve sent you the password and account. You can log in and check anytime.” “I’ve decided to stay chaste for love.” Through the glass, I stared blankly at Arianna. This usually elegant and proud woman was now overflowing with intense emotion. Watching her flushed, impassioned face, I slowly processed the logic of her words. For a moment, I felt like I didn’t know her at all.

Arianna was quite uninhibited in the bedroom. Elegant and proper during the day, demanding at night. In recent years, as her stress increased dramatically, she had to be meticulous and airtight in her words and actions as a famous female divorce lawyer. As a result, she increasingly lived in a closed-off mode. Only in the intimate moments of the night, when she was panting with desire in my ear, could I find traces of that shy girl who used to blush at the sight of me. We were classmates in a graduate seminar. She pursued me. The proud and vivacious girl only had affectionate, shy glances for me. I fell for her quickly. Later, I stayed at the university as a psychology professor. She started as a salaried lawyer and worked her way up to partner, becoming a nationally renowned female divorce lawyer earning millions a year. We had many similarities in personality: Emotionally stable, rational and pragmatic, objective and calm, particular about quality of life, willing to work hard for our ideals. I had a stable and respectable job that allowed me to take care of the child and family. She was successful in her career, soaring in her professional field. Married for eight years, we respected each other and achieved together, living in a million-dollar apartment with an easy-to-raise “genius” son. You could say we were an enviable family. But half a year ago, she suddenly changed. She had a habit of night running. She used to leave at 8 pm and return at 9 pm, then shower and spend half an hour of family time. Like clockwork. But six months ago, she suddenly started leaving at 7 pm and not returning until 10 pm. When she came back, she seemed exhausted and went straight to bed after showering. Family time was naturally cancelled. I asked her why her night runs had become so long. She said flatly, “The case is at a dead end. Staying out longer helps clear my head.” Mental labor can sometimes be more tiring than physical labor. I understood. Later, she seemed to suddenly lose interest in intimacy. Not only did she no longer initiate, but she repeatedly rejected me, citing being “too tired”. I thought it was because of her stress and was very worried. That’s why after she was hospitalized for the hiking injury, I strongly urged her to take a break from work and recuperate for a while, and had the doctors do a full checkup. But now it seems the situation was not as I had imagined… I lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark with wide eyes. Her words earlier made her seem like a stranger, and the expression on her face felt even more unreal. So much so that after suffering two major blows today, intense curiosity overrode what should have been feelings of heartbreak and anger. I was really curious. What kind of man was on the other end of that call, to make Arianna, who had become utterly rational in recent years, behave like that? I’ve always been direct in my actions. The next night, I slipped sleeping pills into her milk.

As she slept heavily, I used her finger to unlock her phone. I found yesterday’s late night call number and looked at it for a while until something clicked. I had seen this number before. Three months ago, after Arianna was hospitalized for her hiking injury, I asked the police for the contact information of the first person who found her and called for help, wanting to express my gratitude. This was the number the police gave me. I have an excellent memory, especially for numbers. I couldn’t be wrong. I called the number in front of the police officer, and a man answered. His voice was steady, his manner gentle. He said there was no need to meet, and thanks were unnecessary. He said this was what any normal person would do. After hanging up, the police officer smiled and told me that while others might ask for a reward, he definitely wouldn’t. I asked why. The officer said he recognized the man during questioning – he had been in the news as the “Most Devoted Husband”. “He’s had a hard life too. His wife became completely paralyzed from a sudden illness at their wedding, leaving behind a 7-year-old son from her previous marriage. He didn’t abandon her, taking care of her day and night for thirteen years, while also raising that child alone. His wife passed away last year, and he finally got through it. Now he runs a small food stall selling lamb soup at the entrance of the suburban park.” “How could someone with that kind of moral character accept your reward money!” I nodded in admiration at the time, “My wife was lucky to have met him.” Now, in the dead of night, I held the phone for a long while, then opened the photo gallery. I don’t know if Arianna was confident in herself or trusting of me, but she had hardly hidden anything. What greeted my eyes was a screen full of photos of a man. The same man. A small stall lit by warm lamps under the starry night sky. The man had handsome features and a warm smile. He was either cutting ingredients, ladling soup, or chatting with customers. Every scene exuded warmth and an air of peaceful contentment. In the hundreds of photos, the man’s clothing changed from short sleeves to thick cotton jackets. The time span was half a year. The third day, I went to the suburban park and sat down at the small stall with a sign that read “Zack’s Lamb Soup”. I watched Zack from a short distance away. He was crouched in front of a flower bed, speaking softly to a stray kitten. Two women stood in front of his stall, joking: “Zack only has eyes for these cats and dogs. He’s not even trying to make money anymore.” Zack hurriedly stood up, explaining apologetically in a gentle voice: “I’m sorry, I just felt bad for them and got too absorbed. I didn’t see you there.” One of the women waved her hand, “You’re doing a good deed. These strays treat this place like home. They know you’re soft-hearted and all come to you for food. It’s a heartwarming scene – we enjoy watching it too.” After the two women left, I walked over. “One bowl of lamb soup, please.” Zack responded with an “Ah” and smiled as he ladled the soup for me. Across the rising steam, I quietly observed him. About 35 or 36, tall and well-built, with handsome features. Dressed simply but neatly, with gentle eyes and a friendly smile. His whole being exuded the warm and steady charm of a mature man. “It’s your first time here, friend. I’ll add some extra lamb lung for you to try.” I sat at the small table, slowly savoring the flavor. My mind kept wrestling with one question. Would someone like Zack, with his background and character… Would he do something like interfere in someone else’s marriage? Would he?

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