Category: English

At dinner, my 5-year-old son ate the last fried chicken piece—the one my stepdaughter always claimed. My wife immediately removed me from the family group chat for the 28th time, her voice icy: “Don’t even ask to rejoin until you teach your son to respect his sister.” What stung more was seeing her ex-husband’s sarcastic Instagram story minutes later: “Five years married, still treated like a stray dog. Guess who?” My boy was crying hysterically, fingers down his throat, trying to gag up the piece to give it back. In that moment, I snapped awake. I set my fork down, held my trembling son, and said with certainty, “If there’s no room for us here, we’re leaving.” Weeks earlier, he’d asked if I could divorce Mommy. When I asked why, he said in his small voice, “I don’t think Mommy loves us. She only loves Harper and Harper’s dad.” He went on, recalling how my wife used her Christmas bonus for them instead of his piano lessons, and gave away my birthday watch after Harper threw a fit. “She always kicks you out of the chat. You always have to beg to come back.” Then he broke me: “If you’re staying just for me, I’d rather not be your kid. I just want you happy and free.” Tears fell before he finished. This time, I was truly done. I was walking away. 1 Pamela froze for two seconds, her fork hovering in the air. “What did you just say?” I held my son tight against my chest. My voice was dangerously quiet. “I said, I want a divorce.” My ten-year-old stepdaughter, Harper, lit up. She dropped her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter. “Mom, do it! Let him leave! Then you and Dad can finally get back together.” Pamela shot her a warning glare. “Eat your dinner.” Harper rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her excited smirk. She muttered under her breath, “It’s true anyway. Once the loser leaves, my real dad can come home.” The loser. I had been married to Pamela for five years. Not once had Harper ever called me “Dad.” She barely even called me by my name. She usually just yelled “Hey” or called me “the loser.” And Pamela never corrected her. She acted completely deaf to it. Pamela leaned back in her dining chair, studying me. Her tone softened into something patronizing. “Owen, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Is this seriously just because I kicked you out of the group chat?” I didn’t answer. She let out a heavy sigh, looking at me like I was an unreasonable toddler. “Look at the situation and tell me who is in the wrong here.” Finn shrank against my chest, his little fists gripping my shirt tightly. Pamela pointed at him. “He knows Harper loves the fried chicken drumsticks, but he still fought her for it. As a father, you should be teaching him to yield to his older sister, not coddling him.” “All I did was tell you to discipline him, and now you are threatening me with a divorce?” I stared at the single, half-eaten drumstick sitting on Finn’s plate, and my heart turned to lead. Harper liked fried chicken, which meant she was entitled to the entire bucket. Just a few minutes ago, there was exactly one piece left. Harper had pushed her plate away and loudly announced she was stuffed. Only then did Finn dare to reach for it. He had barely taken a single bite before Harper snatched her fork back up and screamed, “I wanted to eat that! Why are you stealing my food?!” Pamela had been scrolling through her phone. She glanced up, didn’t ask a single question, and instantly removed me from the family chat. It was the twenty-eighth time. Seeing my silence, Pamela assumed she had won the argument. Her tone grew sharper. “Harper isn’t your biological daughter, which means you should be going out of your way to treat her better. But what do you do? You encourage Finn to steal food right off her plate.” “If you cared about Harper even half as much as you care about Finn, I wouldn’t have had to do that tonight.” “I am just trying to remind you to be fair. Stop playing favorites.” Playing favorites? My mind flashed back to when we first got married. Harper was five. She suffered from terrible night terrors, waking up screaming and crying for her real dad. I was the one who paced the living room floor, holding her against my shoulder, rocking her back to sleep night after night. When Finn was born, I was terrified Harper would feel left out, so I spoiled her even more. When she spiked a 103-degree fever in the middle of the night and Pamela was out of town on a business trip, her biological father, Trent, refused to answer his phone. I was the one who held her in the emergency room waiting area until dawn. Finn was barely a year old at the time. I had to dump him at a neighbor’s house. When I picked him up the next morning, he had cried so hard he lost his voice. Yet, in their eyes, I was just a biased, toxic stepdad. Pamela looked at me, her voice softening just a fraction. “Alright, enough drama.” “Make Finn apologize to Harper. Have him promise he won’t do it again. I’ll monitor his behavior for a few days, and if he acts right, I’ll add you back to the chat.” I stared into her eyes. These were the same deep, beautiful eyes that made me fall for her on our very first blind date. When I found out she was a divorced mother of one, my own father had grabbed my arm and begged me to walk away. “Owen, what are you doing? She has a kid, and her ex-husband is still hovering around. If you marry her, you’ll just be a punching bag for all their baggage.” I refused to listen. I naively believed that if I was just kind enough, patient enough, and loved them hard enough, I could thaw her heart and become a real part of this family. But five years had passed. I was still just an outsider who could be deleted from the family group chat at the drop of a hat. “Pamela, in your heart, do you even consider me family?” She blinked, clearly caught off guard. I kept going. “If I am your family, why is there no space for me in a stupid text thread?” Her brow furrowed, a flash of genuine confusion crossing her face. “Everything has been perfectly fine. Whenever you fix your attitude, I always invite you back in, don’t I?” Perfectly fine? Yes, perfectly fine because every single time, I swallowed my pride and apologized. I did it because I loved her. I did it because I desperately wanted to belong. And later, I did it because Finn was too young, and I wanted him to grow up in a complete home. But now, I was exhausted down to my bones. “Twenty-eight times. Every time I don’t perfectly cater to Harper’s mood, or whenever I upset your ex-husband, you kick me out without asking a single question.” “But Trent divorced you six years ago, and he has never been kicked out of that chat.” “Pamela, who is actually your husband?” 2 The color drained from her face. “Are you really going to start being insanely jealous over nothing again? Trent is Harper’s biological father. He stays in the chat so we can easily communicate about our daughter.” Communicate? I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. My eyes burned. “And what about me? Every time you kick me out, I have to completely humiliate myself. I have to suck up to Trent, and I have to beg Harper for forgiveness, just so you’ll bestow the honor of adding me back.” “Pamela, have you ever, for a single second, considered how that makes me feel?” She fell silent. Suddenly, Finn wriggled out of my arms and sprinted to the kitchen trash can. “Mommy, don’t be mad at Daddy! It’s my fault! I’ll give the chicken back to Harper…” As he spoke, he shoved his fingers deep into his mouth, gagging violently over the plastic bin. I lunged forward and grabbed his hands. “Finn! Finn, stop! Do not do that, it’s not your fault!” He collapsed against my chest, sobbing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath, his little face flushed crimson. Harper pointed at him from the dining table and burst out laughing. “Mom, look! I told you he was a manipulative little brat. The loser taught him how to play the victim perfectly.” Pamela didn’t even stand up. She just sat there, her eyebrows pulled together in annoyance. “Look at this. This is because you baby him. He’s five years old and he already knows how to emotionally blackmail adults.” As a mother, she didn’t ask if Finn was choking. She didn’t ask if he was okay. I suddenly remembered last winter. Harper got into a scuffle on the playground and scraped her knee. Pamela got the call at work, burst into tears, abandoned a major client meeting, and drove like a maniac to the school just to carry Harper to urgent care. A month later, Harper purposely tripped Finn in our living room. His forehead slammed into the corner of the glass coffee table. Blood poured down his face, soaking his shirt. Pamela barely glanced up from her laptop. “He’s fine. Kids bump into things all the time.” I was the one who drove a screaming, bleeding Finn to the hospital alone. He needed four stitches. He cried the entire time. When we got home, Pamela didn’t ask how he was. She just accused me of being dramatic and seeking attention. Thinking about that day, I picked Finn up and stood tall. Pamela assumed I was finally backing down. She leaned back in her chair. “Take him to his room and calm him down. When he stops screaming, come back out, clear the table, load the dishwasher, and help Harper with her math homework.” I didn’t say a single word. I just carried Finn to his bedroom. As I shut the door behind us, I heard Harper’s gloating voice echo through the hall. “Mom, he is totally faking it. He’s just waiting for you to go in there and beg him. My dad told me Owen is a manipulative snake.” Pamela sounded irritated. “Let him throw his little fit. Ignore him and he’ll snap out of it.” A few minutes later, I heard the familiar chime of a FaceTime call connecting in the living room. Harper had called her grandparents. She immediately started whining. “Grandma! The loser is acting crazy again.” “His bratty kid stole my food, and when Mom yelled at him, he threw a massive tantrum and locked himself in the bedroom. He won’t even clean the kitchen! He said he wants a divorce.” My father-in-law scoffed loudly through the phone speaker. “That guy is getting more pathetic by the day.” Then, Trent’s voice echoed from the screen. He must have been at their house. “Come on, guys, don’t be too hard on Owen. I’m sure he has his own insecurities. I just feel so terrible for my little Harper…” My mother-in-law immediately chimed in. “What insecurities? The man can’t even cook a decent meal. Harper is our precious angel. She is a growing girl. Why should she have to walk on eggshells just to eat a piece of chicken in her own house?” “He’s completely biased. He only cares about his own blood.” “Things were so much better when you were still around, Trent…” Harper sounded incredibly smug. “Exactly, Grandma! That loser treats me like garbage. He is nothing like my real dad. My dad actually loves me.” “Mom, when are you going to divorce him? Dad is literally waiting to marry you again.” Trent chuckled softly. “Harper, sweetie, don’t say that. Your mom is a married woman.” “He’s not a real husband! I’ll never accept him!” Pamela murmured something low. I couldn’t make out the words. I sat on the edge of the bed, holding Finn against my chest, feeling an absolute, suffocating wasteland inside my soul. Five years. I had bled myself dry trying to take care of every single person in this family. When Pamela’s mother threw out her back, I spent hours every day making homemade bone broth and riding the subway across the city just to deliver it to her while it was hot. When her father had a heart attack and was hospitalized, Pamela was “too stressed” to deal with it. I took all my vacation days and slept in a hard plastic chair beside his hospital bed for a week, so exhausted I was hallucinating. And in return? I didn’t get a single word of gratitude. Meanwhile, Trent had been divorced from Pamela for six years, and her parents still lovingly treated him like a son. I closed my eyes, refusing to listen to the FaceTime call anymore. Finn gently tugged at my collar. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have eaten the chicken…” I looked down at his terrified, tear-streaked face, and my heart physically ached. “Finn, Daddy is going to take you away from here. Is that okay?” He blinked his swollen eyes. “To where?” “To a place where you can eat all the fried chicken you want, and nobody will ever yell at you.” He thought about it for a second, then whispered, “Is Mommy coming?” “Do you want Mommy to come?” He shook his head violently and buried his face in my neck. “Mommy only loves Harper. She doesn’t like me at all.” I hugged him fiercely. “Okay. Then Mommy isn’t coming. It’s just going to be you and me.” 3 That night, Pamela didn’t come into the master bedroom. It was her standard playbook. She was giving me the silent treatment, waiting for me to crack and apologize. But she didn’t realize that after twenty-eight times, I was completely done punishing myself and my son for her ego. The next morning, my alarm went off at 6:00 AM sharp. Normally, I would jump out of bed, cook a full breakfast, iron Pamela’s blouse and Harper’s uniform, and then gently wake them up. I would serve them, clean up their dishes, and then drive Harper to school. Today, I reached over, turned off the alarm, pulled the blanket over Finn, and went back to sleep. When I woke up again, I checked my phone. It was 8:40 AM. The apartment was dead silent. A few minutes later, panicked, heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway. The bedroom door flew open. Pamela stood there, her hair a tangled mess, frantically trying to zip up her pencil skirt. “Why didn’t you wake us up?!” Harper poked her head around Pamela’s hip, her face twisted in fury. “This is all your fault! I’m going to be late for homeroom and my teacher is going to scream at me!” Pamela stormed into the room, her face dark with anger. “You didn’t even make breakfast? Do you have any idea what time it is?” I didn’t get out of bed. I just gently patted Finn’s back as he stirred from the shouting. Ignored, Pamela’s scowl deepened. “Are you seriously still throwing a fit? Over a piece of chicken? Really?” “Fine! I’ll add you back to the chat, okay? Is that what you want?” She snatched her phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and shoved it in my face. “There. Happy now? Get up and make us something to eat!” I didn’t look at her. I picked up my own phone from the nightstand, opened the family chat, and pressed “Leave Group.” Then, I went to her contact and hit “Block.” Pamela’s face instantly dropped. Harper kept whining loudly. “Mom, I am starving! We have to go right now!” Pamela glared at me, turned on her heel, and slammed the bedroom door so hard the walls shook. A few minutes later, I heard the chaotic clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen, followed by Harper complaining about how disgusting the food tasted. A moment later, Pamela shoved the bedroom door open again. “Harper has a parent-teacher showcase at school today. I just got an email from my boss, there’s a crisis at the office and I have to go in. You need to go to her school.” “No,” I replied flatly. “Call her real dad. I have plans today.” Her expression turned venomous. “Plans? What kind of plans could you possibly have?” I threw off the covers and started digging through the dresser for Finn’s clothes. “I have an appointment with a divorce lawyer.” She froze. The anger melted into genuine shock. “Owen, have you lost your mind? You are seriously dragging us toward a divorce over a minor argument?” I completely ignored her and focused on getting Finn dressed. Harper yelled from the front door. Pamela stared at me for three long seconds. “You want to play hardball? Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep this pathetic act up.” She spun around and dragged Harper out the door. I made Finn a quiet breakfast, called into work to use a personal day, and took him straight to a lawyer friend’s office downtown. While Finn played with a box of Lego in the lobby, I sat in the office and had my friend draft an airtight divorce agreement. Just as we walked out of the law firm into the afternoon sun, my phone buzzed. It was Pamela. I had unblocked her just in case of emergencies. I answered, and her voice came through shrill and frantic. “Harper got hurt at school! You need to get to the hospital right now!” “What happened?” “The parent showcase! Because no one was there, she was running around the bleachers by herself, fell, and severely injured her leg! They took her to the ER. I am locked in a conference room and cannot leave. Get over there now!” I didn’t miss a beat. “Tell Trent to go. I am not her father.” Dead silence on the other end of the line. Then, her voice exploded, practically shattering the speaker. “Owen! What the hell is wrong with you?! If you had just gone to the school like I told you to, she never would have fallen! This is your fault, and you won’t even go check on her?!” Standing under the bright sunlight, a cold, empty laugh escaped my throat. “Pamela, you spent five years telling me I don’t care enough about her. Since I am already convicted of the crime, I figured I might as well show you what not caring actually looks like.” I hung up the phone. I looked down at my son. “Finn, you want to go to the amusement park?”

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When I opened my eyes again, I was five years old, on the very day my birth parents brought me back to the Carrington estate. Alistair Carrington, my brother, blocked their path, his finger jabbing toward my face. “Dad, Mom, I made a mistake,” he said, his voice laced with ice. “She isn’t my sister.” Seeing the undisguised disgust on his face, I understood instantly. Like me, he had been reborn with the memories of our past life. Disappointment washed over my parents’ faces. They turned and walked away without a backward glance. Alistair pressed a hard candy into my palm, the cellophane crinkling in the tense silence. “The Carringtons only need one daughter, and that’s Isabelle,” he said, his voice flat. “Your kidney couldn’t even save her life. There’s no reason for you to be here.” Flashes of my previous life seared through my mind: at eighteen, I donated a kidney to the family’s beloved adopted daughter, Isabelle, who was suffering from renal failure. She died from organ rejection anyway. Before I had even fully recovered from the surgery, the Carringtons threw me out. Soon after, my surgical wound became severely infected. I died alone on the streets. … My fist clenched around the candy, its sharp edges digging into my palm. He was right. In our past life, my only purpose to him was as a spare blood bank and organ bank for Isabelle. Since my kidney had failed to save her, and she had died regardless, my useless self had no place in their family this time around. I smiled, but a tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away fiercely, telling myself that the girl from that life, the one who craved their love, was dead. The one living now was me. I turned and walked back to a quiet corner of the orphanage. Not long after, the purr of an expensive engine broke the silence as a sleek black Bentley glided to a stop at the curb. The director scurried out, ushering in an elderly gentleman with silver hair. The orphanage erupted. Children flocked around him like a chattering of sparrows, all vying for his attention. “Hello, Grandpa!” “Grandpa, I can sing for you!” “Grandpa, look at my drawing!” Only I remained in my inconspicuous corner, an outsider to the frenzy. The old man, Mr. Preston, noticed me. He gently moved through the crowd, leaning on his cane as he made his way toward me. “Little one, why are you all by yourself over here? Don’t they like you?” I shook my head and looked up, offering him the candy, now warm from my tight grip. “For you, Grandpa.” I forced a calm maturity into my voice, one far beyond my years. He paused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “Mm, it’s very sweet.” He studied me for a long moment. “What’s your name?” “The director calls me Ava.” “Ava…” he repeated, nodding slowly. “Would you like to come home with me? To be my granddaughter?” The orphanage fell silent. Every child’s gaze, sharp with envy, was fixed on me. Without a shred of hesitation, I nodded firmly. “Yes.” He let out a hearty laugh that boomed through the quiet hall. “Good! Excellent! From this day forward, your name is Ava Preston.” He took my hand, his palm warm and dry. “Ava, it means life, a precious thing. I want you, my child, to become a priceless gem.” I understood the weight of his words, the hope he was placing in me. In that moment, I squeezed his hand back, hard. I became the cherished jewel of the Preston family. Mr. Preston, my new grandfather, treated me like a treasure. He taught me to read and write himself, and shared with me his wisdom on life and character. His own children, my new aunts and uncles, though busy, never failed to bring me fascinating gifts and showered me with genuine affection. But the one who doted on me most was my new brother, Noah, who was ten years my senior. The first time he saw me, a gentle smile broke through his cool, handsome features. “This is our little princess,” he’d declared. “No one gets to hurt her.” It became his mantra. Wrapped in so much love, the scars of my past life began to fade. I threw myself into my studies, consistently ranking first from elementary school through high school. My room overflowed with trophies and certificates from countless competitions. When it came time for college, I chose to study medicine without a second thought. I knew Isabelle’s illness was the unending ache in the heart of the Carrington family. It was also the sword that had once hung over my own head. Twenty years later, I had become one of the country’s youngest and most renowned physicians and medical researchers. Life was peaceful and fulfilling. I believed the Carringtons had vanished from my life forever. Until the day my assistant knocked on my office door. “Dr. Preston, there’s a Mr. Alistair Carrington here to see you. He specifically requested our most expensive consultation to have you see his sister.” The name sent an involuntary jolt through my heart. I took a deep breath, pushing down the surge of emotion, and kept my voice perfectly even. “Send him in.” A tall man in a tailored suit walked in. The boyishness of his youth had sharpened into a handsome, brooding intensity. The moment Alistair saw me, he froze. His deep-set eyes were wide with shock and disbelief. He could never have imagined that the medical expert he had gone to such lengths to find was the sister he had cast away twenty years ago. It took him a long moment to find his voice. When he did, it was thick with suspicion. “You’re Dr. Preston?” I simply nodded. “Mr. Carrington, please have a seat. Tell me about your sister’s condition.” He ignored my invitation, his eyes still scanning me critically. “Are you really a doctor? What are the chances you can actually cure my sister?” His tone suggested I was a fraud, a charlatan. My assistant, standing beside me, could barely contain her indignation. “Sir, Dr. Preston is the leading expert at this hospital. Her time is extremely valuable…” I looked at Alistair, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching my lips. “It seems you don’t trust my professional capabilities, Mr. Carrington.” “In that case, let’s cancel this consultation.” “Chloe, show the gentleman out.” Alistair’s face darkened instantly. He clenched his jaw, but in the end, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. My assistant stomped her foot in frustration. “Dr. Preston, that man is so rude! Who does he think he is?” I just gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s fine. He’s just another patient.” To me, it was nothing more than a minor interruption. My life had long since moved on from them. After work, as I was leaving the research building, Alistair appeared, blocking my path. His expression was a dark, complicated storm. My brows furrowed. “Can I help you?” He stared at me, his gaze intense. After a long silence, he finally ground out the words. “I’m warning you.” “I don’t care who you are now. You will not harm Isabelle.” I almost laughed out loud. Twenty years ago, he was the one who cruelly stopped me from being a Carrington, and now here he was, calling me by that name again, warning me not to hurt the very person he chose over me. As if I would waste a single second of my life on her. I looked at him as if he were a raving lunatic. “Mr. Carrington, my last name is Preston. Ava Preston. Please get it right.” “Furthermore, I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t know your sister. As a doctor, my job is to save lives, not to harm them. So why, exactly, would I want to hurt a complete stranger?” Alistair was taken aback, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “You don’t remember me?” He seemed unable to accept it, his voice rising. “Twenty years ago! At the orphanage! I was the one who stopped my parents…” He trailed off, the words catching in his throat, as if even he found his past actions shameful. Seeing his discomfort, a chilling coldness settled in my heart. Of course, I remembered. I remembered every look of disgust, every hateful word. I remembered how he personally pushed me away, shattering every fantasy I ever had about family. But I would pretend. I feigned a moment of deep thought, then let my expression clear into one of dawning realization. “Ohhh,” I drew out the sound. “So it was you.”

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On a family reality TV show, my son logged into my gaming account and accidentally crushed the esports team owned by the young heir of the elite Vance family. A popular actress posted a thinly veiled tweet: “Bullying teammates at only five years old? I sure hope he doesn’t grow up to do anything illegal!” Instantly, I was dragged to the top of the trending topics and cursed at by netizens. They said my son was addicted to video games, that we had offended the powerful Vance family of New York, and that we were absolutely finished. But I just didn’t understand! Both of these kids are mine. One inherited my gaming genes, and the other inherited Liam Vance’s business acumen. What’s the problem here? 1 The esports team owned by the young heir of the New York elite, Leo Vance, was absolutely crushed by a little “Jungle King.” #FiveYearOldJungleKingCrushesProTeam# #Shocking!LittleJungleKingIsChloeThorne’sSon# The trending topics exploded, and my gaming ID swept across every Twitter feed. Lucas Thorne is insanely good at video games, carrying the whole team while speaking in an adorable, childish voice. I’m a controversial, “love-to-hate” actress in Hollywood. I’m not a massive A-lister, but I have had some breakout roles. And Lucas Thorne is my son. This gaming incident caught the attention of the entire internet, with media outlets scrambling to cover it. Rumor had it that after the esports team Leo Vance invested in was crushed, he cried his eyes out right there on the spot. Now, the netizens were more worked up than the people actually involved! [Chloe Thorne really needs to discipline her son. He’s so young, skipping school to play games all day! This was Leo’s first time playing with a pro team; it’s normal he didn’t play well! Who knew some blind idiot would come out of nowhere just to show off!] [Liam Vance is notoriously ruthless and incredibly protective of his kid. Throwing millions around for fun. Chloe’s son actually dared to offend Leo Vance? They are definitely finished!] [Who even is Chloe Thorne? Just a D-list actress. She must be crazy to mess with the little prince!] Meanwhile, the culprit, Lucas, was standing in front of me, looking deeply wronged: “Mommy, you can’t blame me for this. I just inherited it all from you!” … I thought the heat would die down quickly. I didn’t expect that the very next evening, paparazzi would release photos of the top-tier actress, Serena Sterling, appearing at Leo Vance’s private piano recital. Leo loves the piano, so his doting grandmother, Mrs. Vance, threw him a small, exclusive recital, inviting many close friends and family. As the recital ended, the media interviewed Serena. She looked at the cameras and gave a slight smile. “Being good at video games isn’t necessarily a good thing. What’s so great about a teenager addicted to the internet? Mrs. Vance said that Leo, just like his father, understands business and plays the piano. He’s a true little prince!” With just one sentence, Serena instantly positioned the two boys as direct comparisons. Suddenly, a stark contrast was drawn between the “piano prodigy” and the “internet-addicted teen.” Lucas was subjected to a torrent of abuse from haters. While Leo was praised to the heavens by the netizens! But I just didn’t understand! Both of these kids are mine. One inherited my gaming genes, and the other inherited Liam’s business acumen. What’s the problem here? 2 Shortly after, Serena appeared on camera, arm-in-arm with Mrs. Vance. “It was just a game. Everyone shouldn’t focus on it too much! Mrs. Vance asked me to take Leo on a family reality show. I look forward to seeing everyone there.” Everyone knows that the heir to the Vance family, Liam, is 28 this year and still unmarried. Mrs. Vance was worried sick about it, until he suddenly brought a child home a few years ago, which finally made her stop nagging him. Now, this was solid proof that she was about to marry into the Vance family. [A woman about to marry into a billionaire family is so classy! Leo is going to have a great mom!] [Serena’s fans are eating good today! No way, could she be Leo’s biological mother?] [Looking at it this way, Chloe Thorne is so pathetic. She’s still playing deaf and dumb. She’s probably so scared she’s about to quit the industry!] I ruffled Lucas’s hair, lost in thought. Liam and I were actually each other’s first loves. But my family was dealing with severe internal conflicts, and my grandfather’s dying wish was for me to study abroad. At that time, Liam and I had a disagreement. I didn’t want a man to hinder my progress. So, I initiated a breakup with Liam. It wasn’t until I went abroad that I realized I was pregnant. From then on, I had two sons: Leo Vance and Lucas Thorne. By the time Liam scoured Europe and finally found me, both boys were already over a year old. Even so, I still didn’t agree to get back together with him. It was just that since both of us were workaholics, raising the children became our respective, unspoken responsibilities. Putting the past aside, I received an invitation from a reality show director via Twitter DMs. They wanted Serena and me on the same family reality show! An opportunity to slap some faces? I’d gladly take it. Lucas had a weak constitution since childhood. To prevent him from catching the flu, I bundled him up tightly on the way to the airport. He was very resigned: “There’s a kind of cold called ‘your mom thinks you’re cold’.” However, I didn’t expect to be on the same flight as Serena. Serena looked down on me, her eyes flashing with disdain. “Chloe, are you so desperate for money that you dare to take on a family reality show? Believe me or not, with just one word from Liam, your career in the entertainment industry stops here!” It’s common knowledge that Serena and I have hated each other since we entered the industry. It was because Serena once bullied a stunt double on set. I stood up for the double, and Serena targeted me ever since. Lucas went to the bathroom and hadn’t returned. I looked all around Serena but didn’t see Leo. Finally, Lucas and Leo came out of the bathroom together. Serena immediately rushed to fuss over Lucas. Then, she looked at Leo with utter disgust. “You bundled your son up so tightly, is he ugly or something?” I was speechless: “Are you blind?” The two kids had merely swapped clothes, and she couldn’t even tell them apart. She’s blind enough to mistake them! And she dared to call my son ugly! 3 Lucas had taken all his outer clothes off and given them to Leo. They had loved each other since they were toddlers. He probably thought Leo was dressed too lightly and swapped clothes with him. So, Serena held Lucas’s hand and mocked Leo: “Chloe, you better discipline your son. Kids who are addicted to the internet are useless when they grow up! Keep him away from our Leo.” I was uncharacteristically silent for a moment, instinctively looking at Leo. Leo sighed like a little adult and said, sounding very tired: “So, this is the kind of person you are.” Lucas winked at me secretively, and then seamlessly walked away with Serena. The family reality show was presented entirely as a live broadcast. I held the hand of the masked Leo and appeared on camera, while Lucas was led by Serena. The production team naturally assumed Serena was holding “Leo Vance.” They are twins, looking incredibly alike. People who aren’t familiar with them simply can’t tell the difference. But their personalities are completely different. Facing the camera, Lucas was totally at ease, a bright, passionate smile blooming on his face. “Hello everyone, I’m the big brother, Leo Vance!” Seeing him so lively and cheerful, a proud look immediately appeared on Serena’s face. After everyone had introduced themselves, it was Leo’s turn. Before he could even speak, Serena threw shade at him. Even though her smile was warm, she couldn’t hide the arrogance and disgust in her bones: “Is Chloe’s son this timid? He was so brave when he was bullying our Leo online!” She sounded like she was joking, casually making fun of him: “Two-faced at such a young age. It’s true what they say: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!” And the host, instead of smoothing things over, chimed in: “Yeah, Chloe’s child is too quiet. He could easily become a gloomy teenager. Not like Leo, who is so lively and outgoing!” In the past, when Leo didn’t talk much, they praised him as a cool, quiet little prince. Now, with his identity swapped, he was being criticized for being a gloomy teenager who talks too little. Before I could retort, Lucas went on the offensive: “Auntie, do you live by the ocean? You’re not even my brother’s mom, and you’re not my mom, why are you managing so broadly?” (A Chinese idiom meaning “why are you being so nosy?”) With just one sentence, the entire set fell silent. Serena’s face changed drastically, her gaze snapping to the live-stream camera. 4 The netizens in the live stream realized something was wrong. [So Leo’s mom isn’t Serena! Then who is his mom?] [Don’t you guys know Liam Vance has a rich, beautiful first love? It’s highly likely it’s her child.] [That doesn’t make sense. Then why would Serena bring Leo on a family show? You guys are talking nonsense! So what if she’s the first love? Can she beat Serena?] Seeing the public opinion about to burn her, Serena quickly deflected the fire: “Chloe, isn’t your kid hot? He still doesn’t dare to show his face. Are you that insecure about your child’s looks?” Since the show started, Leo hadn’t taken off his mask or hat, only revealing his eyes. Serena smiled lightly, pretending to be considerate: “If you’re really that worried, you can have the production team blur his face in post!” I gave a slight twitch of my lips. If I made my son take off his mask, wouldn’t it scare her to death? Another female guest next to Serena, Sarah, chimed in: “Chloe, we’ve never heard you mention getting married before, and now you suddenly produce such a big son. Does this child’s looks take after your husband?” The netizens in the live stream were led astray by the rhythm. [Chloe’s son is already on a reality show, and he’s still acting so pretentious, not even daring to show his face. Who knows whose kid it is?] [Could this child be the illegitimate son of some sugar daddy? She’s probably afraid that if he takes off the mask and is compared to other kids, he’ll feel even more inferior!] I reached out and stood in front of him. “Is it really fun for several of you to target a child like this? It’s his right not to take off the mask!” No one said anything else, but the disdainful and disgusted looks couldn’t be hidden. 5 Next, the production team placed a day’s worth of food in a box. All the children had to take the food from the box and bring it back to the kitchen to complete the day’s task. During the transportation process, Lucas ran extremely fast. After emptying his own box of food, he went to help his brother. Serena stepped forward, cheering Lucas on: “Leo, you’re doing great!” She glared at me and complained: “Kids who stay home playing video games all day have terrible stamina. Staying up late and not exercising, he can’t even carry a few bottles of water. And he calls himself a little man!” My mouth twitched, and my face went cold. “Remember what you said today!” Serena smiled very disdainfully. She stepped forward to help, and as she passed by Leo, she subtly stuck out her foot. Leo, who was earnestly moving food, was completely focused and didn’t notice his feet at all. He tripped and fell hard onto the ground! Thud. His small body hit the dirt. “Baby!” My heart jumped, and I ran over frantically! The cameraman followed closely behind. Leo’s body slid forward for several meters, half of his face scraping against the ground. Tears welled up in his eyes instantly from the fall, and his mask was pulled down significantly. When his red nose and half of his face were exposed to the camera, everyone was dumbfounded! 6 The camera slowly zoomed in on the half of Leo’s face. When that face abruptly appeared on screen, everyone was startled. Half of Leo’s face was covered in blood, and his entire mask was soaked. As his body slid forward, his cheek rubbed against the ground, scraping up beads of blood! Sarah gasped: “Oh my god! Is he going to be disfigured?!” “Can you just shut up!” My heart ached terribly, and my trembling fingers didn’t dare to touch his face. “Baby, does it hurt?” Tears shimmered in Leo’s eyes as he stubbornly lowered his head. Soon, his gaze fell on Serena. Serena let out a sigh, looking concerned: “His face is scraped so badly, aren’t you going to take the child to see a doctor? He wasn’t very good-looking to begin with, and now it’s even worse!” I was too lazy to waste words with Serena for the moment; I needed to treat the child’s facial injuries first. Fortunately, the director had the foresight to know how easily children get injured from falls. So, he arranged for a private doctor to be on standby during filming. While the doctor was treating Leo’s wounds, the camera focused on his profile. Suddenly, the netizens in the live stream all turned into detectives! [Wait… why does the profile of Chloe’s son look so much like the little prince? If this face gets ruined, it might be a good thing. Our little prince Leo is one of a kind!] [Are you all blind? Where is the resemblance? The injury is so severe, and Chloe still wants her son to leech off the little prince’s popularity.] [I bet Chloe has a secret crush on Mr. Vance, deliberately found a boy-toy who looks like him, and had a baby! The profile just looks similar!] When the doctor finished bandaging Leo’s wound, that half of his face was wrapped in gauze again. Serena stared straight at him, the smile on her lips gradually fading. “Your face…” Could it be that Serena suddenly grew eyes and figured it out? 7 Who knew, Serena’s gaze instantly turned sharp, and she mocked me with a smile. “Chloe, you made your son look like this, don’t tell me it’s to imitate our Leo?” My heart sank, and I reminded her coldly: “You’re not just blind right now, you really have no eyes. After the recording is over, hurry up and go see an ophthalmologist!” A flash of displeasure crossed Serena’s face, but she feigned nonchalance and smiled. “Chloe, did I hit a nerve? You made the child imitate our Leo. Isn’t it just to get close to Liam?” She said, thinking herself clever: “You first deliberately crashed into the esports team, and now that you’re on the family show, you’re scheming to get close to Leo. Isn’t it just because you want to marry into a wealthy family?” The netizens in the live stream were completely swayed by Serena’s rhythm. [Chloe is so disgusting, she doesn’t even look in the mirror! She thinks she can marry into a wealthy family. Does she think a billionaire family is a farmer’s market? Anyone can get in!] [Serena is so smart, she saw through Chloe’s tricks at a glance. The show just started, and this little brat is already causing so much trouble. He definitely wants to leech off Leo’s popularity.] [She lives up to her reputation as someone riddled with scandals. A woman like this is so scheming, she should be cast as the villain in a soap opera.] Serena revealed a shallow smile, a hint of smugness flashing in her eyes. “The popularity of our Leo isn’t something just anyone can leech off of.” I couldn’t stand it anymore and was about to retort her words. Not far away, Lucas suddenly came running, shouting as he ran: “Mommy!” Lucas crashed into my arms, looking at Leo with eyes full of heartache. “Mommy, Leo… is little brother’s face okay?” His one “Mommy” left all the netizens dumbfounded! Serena was even more blown away. 8 Leo and Lucas were born one after the other. Lucas has always fought to be the older brother since he was little. This time, playing the role of the older brother, Lucas took the opportunity to call him little brother. I rubbed Lucas’s cheek and said softly: “The doctor just said it’s fine, it won’t leave a scar.” Serena, finally reacting, immediately stepped forward and gently scolded: “Leo, don’t just call anyone ‘Mom’. That’s a very bad habit!” Lucas frowned in dissatisfaction and explained seriously: “Mommy is Mommy, she is my Mommy. Auntie, you are really weird. You don’t understand, yet you talk nonsense!” Being lectured by a child, Serena’s face looked extremely awkward. The netizens in the live stream were even more bewildered by Lucas. [Leo actually called Chloe Mom! It seems he fundamentally rejects Serena!] [Is Leo’s eyesight bad? He actually treats Chloe as his Mom! Our Serena is beautiful and kind, how is she not worthy of him calling her Mommy?] [People upstairs, are you questioning the little prince’s taste? Chloe is clearly the prince’s ultimate choice.] The public opinion in the live stream was gradually shifting. Serena glared at Leo dissatisfiedly, and snorted coldly in defiance: “Leo, I am the fiancée personally chosen for your dad by your grandmother. In the future, I will be your only mother!” “And Liam is abroad right now. He has already agreed to get engaged to me when he comes back, so you should start calling me Mom now.” Everyone knows Serena and Mrs. Vance have a good relationship, and there have indeed been rumors about the engagement. But Liam Vance has never personally admitted it. Unless the Vance family personally confirms that they are planning the engagement ceremony, otherwise, the credibility is not high. Just as Serena was full of anticipation, waiting for Lucas to call her Mom. Who knew, Lucas pursed his lips and said unceremoniously: “Fine! Then from now on, I’ll call you bad woman!” 9 Seeing how much Lucas hated Serena, netizens began to doubt the engagement. [The Vance family members are all notorious for spoiling their kids. Leo hates Serena this much, can she really enter the Vance family?] [Serena and Mr. Vance are deeply in love, how can a little kid stop them? When it comes down to it, it’s all Chloe’s fault!] [It’s definitely Chloe’s fault. Little kids are the easiest to deceive. Chloe deliberately ruined their relationship and tricked the little prince. Serena has always been very genuine!] Just as the internet was in a dark, chaotic uproar. The director saw Lucas’s resolute attitude and, for a moment, didn’t dare to offend me, so he gave me some extra screen time. Serena immediately became dissatisfied! She immediately called Mrs. Vance. Coincidentally, Mrs. Vance was near the production set. When she arrived at the scene, Serena was more enthusiastic and excited than anyone else, acting as if she had met her ancestors. “Mrs. Vance, welcome to our family reality show!” Serena deliberately emphasized the word “family,” as if silently proving that they were a family. “We are all very united and friendly, except for some who are unsociable, speak very little, and seem to have a little attitude.” When the netizens in the live stream saw the matriarch of a top-tier wealthy family, they immediately began groveling: [This is the first time Mrs. Vance has appeared on a variety show. She must be here to back up her future daughter-in-law. Now, Chloe is dead meat!] [Serena truly deserves to be the woman who will marry into a wealthy family. Her aura doesn’t lose out to Mrs. Vance at all. Chloe standing on the side looks so petty!] But there were also clear-eyed netizens speaking up for me: [Are there any normal people in these comments? Chloe’s aura is clearly calm and powerful, casually outshining Serena, okay?] The newly arrived Mrs. Vance wore a smile on her face. But as she walked closer step by step, the smile on the corners of her mouth gradually disappeared, and her face became increasingly gloomy. Her gaze fell on Leo, whose half face was covered in a bandage. Her eyes were filled with uncontrollable heartache and regret. She asked with a trembling voice: “His face? What happened!” Serena didn’t notice Mrs. Vance’s expression and said casually: “Mrs. Vance, I forgot to tell you! This kid was bullying our Leo in the game!” “That’s fine, but playing games on the internet all day makes him physically weak. He falls whenever he walks. It’s all because his parents didn’t teach him well. Our Leo is the smart and clever one!” Serena thought she was praising “Leo,” but didn’t notice that Mrs. Vance’s expression had drastically changed. Her pupils contracted, her expression unable to hide her shock. She asked, full of doubt: “Who did you say this child is?” 10 Actually, Mrs. Vance only knew about the existence of one child, Leo. Back then, Leo got into a minor car accident crossing the street. Liam, who was nearby, rushed him to the hospital. As a result, he was photographed by the media, causing a scandal that he already had a son. Liam admitted it openly, which also led to Leo’s identity being exposed. However, I didn’t let him mention Lucas’s identity to the Vance family. I originally agreed to let Leo occasionally stay at the Vance house, but only after Liam, pressured by his parents, begged me in every possible way did I finally agree. I narrowed my eyes, unable to hold back a sneer. With Serena’s stupidity, introducing Leo’s identity in front of Mrs. Vance was simply digging her own grave! Sure enough, Serena said carelessly: “This child is the one Chloe had with some unknown man. He could be the child of her sugar daddy, some coal boss, or maybe some boy-toy.” “I just pity this child. His looks probably take after his father, so he’s not very good-looking. This time he fell on his face, he’s probably disfigured. He’ll be even more insecure in the future.” Hearing her words, Mrs. Vance trembled with anger, her face changing color. She shouted angrily: “Shut your mouth!” The entire set fell silent. Even the director and the other guests could tell something was wrong. Only Serena looked at Mrs. Vance in confusion and continued: “Mrs. Vance, everything I said is a fact. This child suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He talks little, is insecure, and loves playing games. He could easily be a bad influence on Leo. I didn’t do anything wrong!” I couldn’t stand it anymore. Furious, I walked right up. Right in front of the camera, I slapped her hard across the face! My slap completely stunned Serena. It instantly shocked the netizens in the live stream. 11 The angry slap resounded loudly. There was a glaring handprint on half of Serena’s face. She was slapped so hard tears welled up in her eyes. After half a second of shock, she immediately looked at Mrs. Vance aggrievedly. “Mrs. Vance, look! What kind of good child can a parent who only knows how to hit people raise?” “Mrs. Vance, you must stand up for me!” Everyone thought Mrs. Vance would stand up for Serena and drive me out of the entertainment industry. The whole internet was waiting to watch me make a fool of myself! [Holy crap! That slap left me bewildered! Is Chloe crazy? She actually dared to hit someone in public. That’s the future young madam of a wealthy family!] [That slap was fast, accurate, and ruthless. Bewildering, but not brain-damaging. Chloe, you really are something.] [Chloe is finished! Just wait to be dealt with by Mrs. Vance. She actually dared to hit her favorite daughter-in-law! Also, is there no one in the entertainment industry managing this violent maniac?] Seeing that Mrs. Vance didn’t speak, Serena immediately became anxious, her voice turning whiny as if she were acting spoiled: “Mrs. Vance, hurry up and say something for me!” After speaking, Serena looked at me triumphantly. That look of hers seemed to be telling me that I was definitely finished! The next second. Mrs. Vance let out a long breath and sneered: “Good hit!” Those three simple words slapped Serena in the face. I felt embarrassed for Serena. But how could this be enough! My precious Leo was definitely set up by Serena! If they said the person who fell to the ground was Lucas, I wouldn’t have anything to say. Lucas has been naughty and mischievous since he was a child. Tripping on flat ground was a daily occurrence. But Leo is different. He has been steady and cautious since childhood. Since he learned to walk, he has never fallen again. Except for that time he saved Lucas crossing the street. So, there must be something fishy about Leo’s fall this time! “My baby doesn’t trip on flat ground. Please pull up the surveillance footage and let me see.” My words were already tactful and gentle enough. Unexpectedly, I was rejected by the production team. “I’m sorry, Chloe. It’s really unfortunate. The surveillance camera in front seems to be broken.” The director added: “It’s normal for little kids to fall. Hasn’t the wound already been treated?” After finishing his sentence, the director looked at Serena intentionally or unintentionally. I twitched the corners of my lips and sneered coldly. I’m afraid Serena had bribed the director a long time ago. “Chloe, you’re not mistakenly thinking that someone harmed your child, are you? The netizens across the entire internet are watching. If someone really laid a hand on him, wouldn’t they be dead meat?” Serena revealed a thin smile. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were filled with smugness. She covered her microphone, avoided the camera, lowered her voice, and mocked me: “It’s already over, and you’re still making a fuss about every little detail. Do you really treat your child as a treasure?” Her words revealed a faint threat. But the person standing next to her wasn’t just me; it was also Mrs. Vance. I could hear it, and Mrs. Vance certainly could too. Mrs. Vance’s expression darkened, her gaze sharp and cold. She ordered in a deep voice: “Check! It must be checked!” 12 “If you can’t figure it out, there’s no need for your show to keep recording!” Mrs. Vance’s aura was powerful. One sentence made everyone present tremble with fear. The production team dared not neglect Mrs. Vance and hurriedly called someone to repair the surveillance camera. During the repair process, the director suggested having the children play small games to ease the atmosphere. “Let’s pair up, two people in a group, and play dodgeball, okay?” The children scrambled to agree. Lucas grabbed Leo’s hand and smiled brightly: “I’ll be in a group with you.” Lucas is a game master and protected Leo throughout the game. In the end, Lucas’s team scored the highest. Leo revealed a bright smile, his eyes full of joy: “Mom, we won the championship!” This was the first time Leo had smiled since coming on the variety show. My heart softened, and before I could step forward to hug him and celebrate. A mocking voice came from behind: “It’s just children playing games. Is it really necessary to be so excited about winning a championship? The little ugly duckling is so competitive. He probably wants to find comfort for his low self-esteem in winning and losing, right?” My heart sank, and I suddenly clenched my hands. Leo finally had a moment of happiness. How could I let this jinx ruin it? Just as I was about to teach her a lesson, a scream suddenly came from behind! A bad premonition instantly surged in my heart. I turned around abruptly and looked at Leo, my pupils trembling. “Henry, who told you to pull the gauze off his face!” Yes, just now. The gauze bandaged on Leo’s face was pulled off directly by someone! The scratches on half of his face were bright red again. I held my baby in the palm of my hand and never let him get hurt. Now, on a program, he was repeatedly targeted! When Leo’s full face was exposed to the camera, everyone was shocked! All the doubts around suddenly turned into astonishment and shock. Because this face, apart from the scratches, looked exactly like Lucas. With that, the live stream completely exploded, shocked to the point that Twitter crashed!

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My younger brother, the heir to a billionaire empire, fell madly in love with our maid’s daughter. At a high-society gala, wearing an obscenely expensive haute couture gown, she whined to me with practiced innocence: “Sister, a woman’s ultimate goal is finding a good husband. If a woman is too aggressive and ambitious with her career, no man will ever love her.” I just gave her a calm, empty smile. That very night, I ordered my secretary to freeze every single one of my brother’s credit cards. 1 Everyone in our elite circle knew that Ashton Kensington, the crown prince of the Kensington empire, was hopelessly obsessed with the maid’s daughter. Rumor had it that for her, the billionaire heir had street-raced, gotten into brutal fistfights, and ruthlessly crushed his rivals. At Sotheby’s auctions, he would drop millions without blinking just to make her smile. He even secretly bought her and her mother a luxury penthouse and a fleet of sports cars. Later, he completely changed his ways. He stopped partying at exclusive nightclubs and avoided the city’s wealthy heiresses like the plague. In private, he catered to her every whim, treating her like absolute royalty. Everyone was dying to know what kind of bewitching, otherworldly beauty this woman possessed to make the Kensington heir so blindly devoted. But I knew the truth. Because right now, this very woman was wearing the custom gown I had pre-ordered six months ago, strutting gracefully toward me at my own birthday gala. “Sister, I am so sorry. If I knew this was your dress, I never would have worn it. Now I’ve stolen your spotlight, it’s all Ashton’s fault.” Chloe’s voice was sickeningly sweet, her eyes welling up with tears as if she had been deeply wronged. Meanwhile, the ill-fitting, plunging sweetheart neckline of the gown was clearly struggling to contain her spilling 36E cleavage. The moment she entered the ballroom, she drew countless stares, especially from the men. Naturally, Chloe reveled in the sensation of being the center of the universe. “Sister, you won’t blame me, right?” Look at that. The maid’s daughter, feigning guilt while attempting to publicly humiliate the legitimate heiress. Does this make any logical sense? Yes, it does. Because the world we inhabit is actually the setting of a cheesy, billionaire romance novel. A story where my brother, Ashton, and Chloe are the star-crossed, destined lovers. And I? I am just the villainous, cannon-fodder supporting character. A perfect tool meant to be used and discarded to highlight their beautiful, flawless love story. When Chloe wanted to break into Hollywood, Ashton forced me to drain our corporate resources to hand her an Oscar on a silver platter. When she got pregnant, my mother ordered me to personally cook and serve her meals. When my own fiancé fell in love with her, he threatened to break our engagement unless I took good care of her. And my ultimate fate? I would be bankrupted after her three-year-old “genius hacker” son breached my company’s mainframe, tanking our stock overnight. I would die utterly penniless. At that exact moment, Chloe would be nestled in Ashton’s arms, giggling, “Ashton, isn’t our son just amazing?” And then the two of them would live happily ever after in shameless bliss. Does any of this make sense? Obviously not. As the proud, aristocratic eldest daughter of the Kensington family, would I ever willingly play the sacrificial lamb just to end up in a ditch? Absolutely not. I am the main character of my own life, and the things they want? I will make sure they never, ever get them. 2 “Victoria, you’re crossing the line. It’s just a dress. There’s no need to make such a huge scene.” The man speaking was my fiancé, Declan Vance. He was also the deeply devoted second male lead of this absurd novel. In the storyline, when Chloe faked her own death upon hearing of Ashton’s arranged marriage, it was this handsome, wealthy fiancé of mine who hid her away and warmly comforted her for two years. But now that the female lead had been “found” by Ashton, Declan was reduced to guarding her under the guise of an “older brother figure.” As for me, his actual fiancée? He had never once truly looked at me. After graduating college, Chloe got a job at Declan’s company. Because of her “clumsy and scatterbrained” personality, she constantly spilled coffee on Declan’s custom suits, messed up financial spreadsheets, and brought the wrong documents to board meetings. Whenever she made a mistake, she would look up with tear-filled, misty eyes, her voice trembling as she apologized to him. After being forgiven, she would joyfully stick her tongue out and promise never to do it again. This kind of bubbly, erratic girl was something the strict, methodical CEO Declan had never encountered in his life. Falling willingly into her trap was inevitable. He started bringing Chloe to high-society events, introducing her to elite networks, and eating lunch with her alone in his office. They would stand inches apart, accidentally brush hands, and share lingering, meaningful smiles. When I caught them, Declan’s face would flash with panic before he quickly masked it with self-righteous anger. To cover up his own budding feelings, he would aggressively yell at me. “Victoria, why is your mind so filthy? Chloe is just an innocent girl fresh out of college. What’s wrong with me looking out for her?” “What exactly are you throwing a tantrum about? Do you just want to force me to admit I’m sleeping with her?!” “Fine. I admit it. Are you happy now?” “Victoria, can you stop being so unreasonable and hysterical? You’re being incredibly annoying.” … At those moments, Chloe would stare at me stubbornly, tears threatening to spill: “Victoria, Mr. Vance and I are completely innocent. You can’t falsely accuse me like this.” Then, she would cry. Just like she was doing right now. Wearing the haute couture gown I had waited months for, standing in front of my fiancé, her eyes rimmed red, looking fragile and sparkling. I methodically cut a piece of cake, lifted it, and took a bite. “Did I say a single word? Hmm?” I raised my eyes and looked at Chloe. I knew she was waiting for me to throw a vicious, aristocratic temper tantrum, which would perfectly compliment her pure, innocent victim act. “You wore the dress. You got the pity of the men in the room.” “What? Do you expect me to apologize to you on top of it?” The cake plate in my hand was suddenly and violently smacked to the floor, splattering sticky frosting everywhere. “Victoria, watch your tone!” Declan roared at me, his chest heaving with anger. The commotion quickly drew a crowd, including my biological brother, Ashton, who had been socializing nearby. He marched swiftly to Chloe’s side, wrapped an arm around her to comfort her, and glared at me with deep dissatisfaction. “Apologize.” Look at that. This is the protagonist’s halo. Whenever she suffers even a perceived slight, someone will always leap out to champion her cause. Like Declan. Like Ashton. My silence only made the hidden gleam of triumph in Chloe’s eyes shine brighter. She seemed to really enjoy watching me fall from grace into the mud. “Sister, a woman really shouldn’t be so aggressive and overbearing. It’s not a good look.” Chloe spoke up, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as she lectured me: “A woman’s ultimate goal is finding a good husband. If a woman is too ambitious and career-driven, no man will ever love her.” Having delivered her speech, she obediently rested her head against Ashton’s chest, a picture of flawless domestic bliss. Standing off to the side, Declan watched this display, his eyes dark and unreadable. He was clearly jealous. I gave a faint smile and walked straight toward the elevated stage in the center of the ballroom. They wanted an apology? Fine. Let’s play for real. 3 I stood on the stage and turned on the microphone I had prepared in advance. Meeting the gazes of the hundreds of guests, I smiled and spoke: “Today, I want to thank all my friends who came to celebrate my birthday. Your presence makes me very happy. Now, I have some official business to announce.” “First, my engagement to Mr. Declan Vance is hereby permanently annulled.” Declan’s face changed instantly. He stared at me, eyes wide with utter shock. “Second, I know you are all incredibly curious about the identity of the true love my brother, Ashton, has pledged his life to. Yes, it is the delicate, fragile Miss Chloe standing right beside him.” “However, the doors of the Kensington family will never, ever open for Miss Chloe.” In the crowd, Chloe’s face turned deathly pale. She looked like she couldn’t even stand steady. It was hilarious. She had been so blinded by her own smugness that she forgot who actually held the power in the Kensington family. It was fine. I didn’t mind reminding her. I am Victoria Kensington. Tutored by industry titans since childhood, I entered an Ivy League university at sixteen, graduated with top honors in business, and took over the family empire at twenty. I have successfully driven our corporate dominance to its absolute peak. As for an alliance with the Vance family? Given our respective corporate influence, Declan marrying me was him climbing the social ladder, not the other way around. And as for Ashton? Wealth rarely survives past the third generation. With a useless, love-struck parasite like him in the bloodline, the downfall of the Kensington family would be practically guaranteed if I weren’t here. Ignoring the collective gasps and shocked whispers echoing through the ballroom. I stepped down from the stage, stopped in front of the three of them, lifted my chin slightly, and turned sideways: “Are you satisfied with this apology?” Chloe was absolutely dumbfounded. She had never imagined the story would take this turn. In her fantasies, I was supposed to throw a hysterical, jealous fit, after which I would be publicly humiliated and condemned by her protectors, earning her the crowd’s awe and sympathy. Not this. I hadn’t played along. I had dropped a nuclear bomb on her head from the very start. She wasn’t the only one stunned. Declan was too. He seemed unable to process that the woman who had supposedly chased him for years and desperately wanted to marry him was now publicly dumping him. Declan’s usual icy, composed demeanor completely shattered. He exploded, demanding to know why I was canceling the engagement. “Why are you being so insanely petty?! Chloe and I have a completely innocent dynamic! There is nothing shady going on!” Seeing my eyes mockingly staring him down, Declan doubled down, raising his chin as if he were bestowing an act of charity upon me. “Take it back! You just want to get married, don’t you? Fine, I’ll marry you!” I shook my head, genuinely speechless. I couldn’t comprehend where he got his sheer, unadulterated audacity. “Declan, your narcissistic delusions are genuinely repulsive.” Declan’s face turned an even paler shade of white. I ignored him and prepared to walk away. But suddenly, Chloe reached out and gripped my wrist like a vice. Chloe was undeniably beautiful. Her face was vibrant and delicate. But right now, it was twisted with fury and a sliver of deeply hidden terror. “Victoria, I respect you as Ashton’s biological sister, so I’ll call you ‘Sister’ for now. Ashton and I love each other. Our relationship is none of your business, and we certainly don’t need you dictating our lives.” “Yes, I’m the maid’s daughter. I know I’m not high-class enough for the Kensington family, but you have no right to humiliate me like this!” She lifted her chin, letting a single, flawless tear trace down her cheek. She looked the picture of tragic, stubborn beauty. What a pity. “Miss Chloe.” “What?” Chloe froze, looking confused. I patiently peeled her vice-like fingers off my wrist. “Please call me Ms. Kensington. I don’t believe any sisterhood exists between us. And naturally, there won’t be any ‘in-law’ relationships in the future either.” I shot Ashton a pointed, side-long glance. Chloe stood frozen for a moment. “You can’t treat me like this! If it wasn’t for me that year…” She choked back a sob, ultimately burying her face in Ashton’s chest, crying with an air of absolute superiority. Ashton comforted her, his eyes glaring at me with dark, venomous hostility. “Victoria, don’t think too highly of yourself. You don’t get to call the shots in the Kensington family.” Honestly, having a love-sick idiot for a brother was a massive failure on my part. He couldn’t even address me with basic respect anymore. What a rude, ungrateful brat. Whether I call the shots in the Kensington family or not, he was about to find out very soon. As for the sentence Chloe didn’t finish. My eyes darkened. She wanted to say that if she hadn’t dragged Ashton out of that roaring fire years ago, he would be dead, and the Kensington family owed her a lifelong debt of gratitude. Oh, I definitely plan on repaying her for the rest of her life. 4 Shortly before I returned to take over the company, the old Kensington estate caught fire. Chloe was eight years old when she moved into our house with her mother. When Ashton was a little boy, he was kidnapped. No one knew how he managed to escape, but after a terrifying run, he was taken in and hidden by Chloe and her mother. My father, out of immense gratitude, gave them a large sum of money. To secure a better future, Chloe’s mother begged my father. She said Chloe’s father was a violent gambling addict who beat them whenever he drank. She pleaded for a job so she could take Chloe away from that nightmare. Chloe and Ashton were the same age. My father, seeing how well-behaved and polite Chloe was, felt pity and enrolled her in the same elite private school Ashton attended. They practically grew up together as childhood sweethearts. At first, Ashton always bullied her and ignored her when she spoke. They bickered constantly until they turned sixteen. Until that night, when a massive fire engulfed the old estate. My father died in that fire. Yet Ashton, whose room was the furthest from Chloe’s, was the one she managed to save. From that moment on, Chloe was permanently branded onto Ashton’s heart. The most dramatic, angsty plot point in the novel happens later, when Ashton discovers that the fire was actually started by Chloe’s mother. Torn between intense hatred and uncontrollable love, his treatment of Chloe becomes erratic and toxic. He even uses his engagement to another woman to mask his true feelings for her. On the day of Ashton’s engagement, Chloe fakes her own death. Hidden by Declan for two years, the plot reaches its climax. For her sake, Ashton did countless insane things during those two years. He violently broke off his engagement, spiraled into alcoholism, and even attempted suicide. The agony of losing her made Ashton realize he was irreversibly in love with Chloe. He completely forgot about his father’s tragic death, only remembering that Chloe risked her life to save him. Look at that. What a grand, deeply moving love story. All it required was the sacrifice of his father’s and sister’s lives to highlight its beauty. We only lost our lives; they almost lost their love! But now, my father is still dead, and I intend to walk a path that completely annihilates the logic of this fictional universe. Chloe stood her ground, looking defiant as tears streamed down her flushed face. She gripped Ashton’s lapels tightly, hiccuping through her sobs: “Let’s go! We’re never coming back! Your family doesn’t welcome us anyway!” She shot me a triumphant, provocative glare. Ashton gently wiped her tears, his heart breaking for her: “Okay, we’ll leave. We’ll never come back.” That is absolutely fantastic news. I wanted nothing more than for them to stay as far away from me as possible, to spare me their toxic stench. If they wanted to play hard-to-get with me, I would gladly grant their wish. I pulled out my phone and dialed my secretary. “Ms. Hayes, freeze all credit cards under Ashton’s name. Confiscate all his vehicles and real estate properties.” “Yes, all of them.” Ashton: “…” Chloe: “…” I thoroughly enjoyed watching the color drain from their faces, shifting through a spectrum of panic and shock. I hung up the phone, walked up to Ashton, and patted his shoulder: “My dear brother, you’d better hurry back home right now. Yes, the luxury penthouse where you’ve been hiding your little princess. If you’re too late, you won’t even have a place to sleep tonight.” Ashton gritted his teeth: “Victoria, you are ruthless.” I shrugged, entirely unbothered. I was incredibly thankful that, upon awakening to the reality of this world, Ashton was still just a useless trust fund baby who relied entirely on our ancestors’ wealth and spent his days chasing women. I wanted to see how he planned to support his precious princess without my money. I smiled, turned, and walked away. Behind me, Chloe screamed that she didn’t love Ashton’s money, she loved him, and even if he had nothing, she would still love him forever. So moving. I practically applauded her. 5 As soon as I got home, my mother intercepted me. She was wearing an elegant, custom silk dress, her face flushed with anger. She demanded to know why I froze Ashton’s cards, screaming about how he was supposed to survive without money. Looking at this pampered, sheltered trophy wife who had never known a day of struggle in her life, I suddenly felt a twinge of envy. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, raised like a delicate flower, and smoothly married my father, living a life of absolute ease and luxury. When the company was in crisis after my father’s death, she was vacationing in the Maldives with her socialite friends. My father was dead, and the corporation was in chaos. Other than crying and pulling at my sleeve to wail about my father’s death, she and the young Ashton were entirely useless. I ignored her and dove straight into saving the company. Once the company stabilized, she dried her tears and went right back to shopping, getting facials, playing cards, and having high tea with her friends. Happily returning to her life as a gilded canary. She used to rely on my father. Now, she relied on me. And even now, she still hadn’t figured out who truly held up her sky. “Sure,” I said. “How about I freeze your cards too and give them to him?” My mother choked, tears instantly spilling from her eyes. “I knew it. Since your father died, you’ve viewed me as an inconvenience.” I finally understood why she liked Chloe. Besides the fact that Chloe saved Ashton’s life, they were cut from the exact same cloth. They were both parasitic vines whose only ambition was to cling to a man. They had plenty in common. In this novel’s universe, men were always positioned as the ultimate authority. Especially men with vast social resources like Ashton and Declan. They were the ultimate prizes that countless women would endlessly scheme and fight to obtain. My mother, Chloe, and even the pre-awakened version of myself were all just microcosms of this pathetic reality. “Sister, a woman’s ultimate goal is finding a good husband. If a woman is too aggressive and ambitious, no man will ever love her.” What a toxic, brainwashing manifesto. What a perfectly rigged game. As long as a woman captured a man’s heart, she was considered a “winner.” Just like right now. I listened to my mother say: “Victoria, I know you’ve worked hard these past few years, and you’ve managed the company beautifully. But all of this belongs to your brother eventually. You’re going to get married sooner or later. You can’t treat your brother like this.” I laughed. A genuine, unrestrained laugh. Regardless of whether I get married or not, I will absolutely never conquer an empire just to hand it over to someone else. I said: “Mom, does your empty-headed, useless son give you this much confidence? This mindset of yours is genuinely terrifying. Does he have the ability to let you buy out entire designer boutiques on a whim? Or do you actually believe your wealthy socialite friends invite you to their parties because you birthed a son? “You are so wrong. It is because of ME. I am the reason you have the audacity to stand in front of me and make demands!” And I am a woman. My mother froze, her expression completely blank. I knew the psychological impact my words would have on her. Because in the original storyline, I actually listened to her toxic lectures. I even went to the kitchen to brew soup for Chloe when she got pregnant. But I should have done this a long time ago. I didn’t look at her again and walked straight upstairs. I knew she wouldn’t just drop it, but that was fine. We had plenty of time. We could take it slow. A few days later, Declan stormed into my office and threw a stack of contracts onto my desk. “Victoria, what is the meaning of this?” I looked up at him lazily and didn’t speak. “Why are you canceling all corporate partnerships with the Vance Group?” I have to say, his question was incredibly stupid. “The contracts expired. I don’t want to renew them. Is there a problem?” There was no problem. I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t pay massive breach-of-contract penalties just to throw a petty tantrum. Declan was speechless. He paced back and forth in my office before glaring at me furiously. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to prove. Canceling the engagement, canceling the corporate partnerships. “Are you just trying to get my attention this way? Victoria, is this your way of manipulating me? Playing hard to get?” Before I could answer, he nodded to himself, answering his own delusion. “Fine, you win. We’ll get married. Bring your ID, we’re going to City Hall right now. Stop throwing this tantrum.” I rolled my eyes and fired back: “Declan, come on. Tell me, exactly what outstanding qualities do you possess that make you think I’d be desperate to cling to you?” I scoffed, laughing at his staggering narcissism. Rich boys like him, raised in luxury, inherently believed they were flawless. They assumed it was only right for hordes of women to throw themselves at their feet. But if you actually asked him to list his redeeming qualities, he wouldn’t be able to name a single one. Money? I have money. Looks? Sorry, I have those too. Intelligence and capability? I’m just as competent as he is. He doesn’t have the qualifications to brag in front of me. Because I still remember clearly: when I first took over Kensington Corp, surrounded by corporate wolves ready to tear me apart, how all these men waited to watch a woman fail. They wanted to see me hit rock bottom, struggle, cry, and finally admit that as a woman, I was weak and powerless. Declan’s face flushed rapidly between white and red. His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t form a single word. Finally, driven to anger out of sheer embarrassment, he threw down a “You’ll regret this” and stormed out. I picked up the contracts on my desk, flipped through them, and made a phone call.

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My sister wanted to conquer Hollywood, but she ended up pregnant by mistake. To save her career, my mother announced to the world that I was the one who was pregnant. My boyfriend threatened to break up with me, forcing me to raise her child in secret. She climbed to the top amidst applause and roses, eventually winning the Oscar for Best Actress. Meanwhile, I, notorious and disgraced, was lured to a rooftop by her “genius” daughter and pushed to my death. Opening my eyes again, I’m back to the day my sister found out she was pregnant. In this life, I refuse to be a silent extra in her movie! 1 “Your sister is going through a crisis, and you’re out there living it up? Get your ass back here right now!” My mother’s shrill voice blasted through the phone, vibrating against my eardrum. I remained unmoved. I even took a slow sip of my favorite watermelon juice, letting the cold liquid soothe my throat before I spoke. “What good would me coming back do? If something happened, you should call the police. Do you want me to dial 911 for you?” My calm tone clearly triggered her. There was a brief silence before an even sharper scream erupted. “Clara Miller, are you trying to ruin your sister? If this gets out, how is she supposed to show her face in this industry?” I took another long pull through the straw. “Again, what does that have to do with me?” “Stop asking questions! If you still consider me your mother, get home right now!” She slammed the phone down. I knew exactly what she was planning. My “dear” sister, Sienna, was pregnant. I’m only a year older than her, and we look remarkably alike. My mother wanted me home so I could act as a decoy—to let the world believe I was the one with the baby, preserving Sienna’s “pure” image for her upcoming roles. How pathetic. We are both her daughters, but in her eyes, only Sienna’s life matters. Mine is just a disposable prop. I only realized the truth after I died in my first life. I was living in a world where Sienna was the “Mary Sue” protagonist. She had the “golden girl” aura, the world’s adoration, and a path paved with stardust. And I? I was the tragic supporting character who gave everything and received nothing. I wasn’t even the villain; I was just the foil used to highlight Sienna’s perfection. On the day she accepted her Best Actress trophy, her seven-year-old daughter—a supposed “prodigy”—tricked me onto a balcony and pushed me off. My body lay in the morgue for six months because they were “too busy” with award season to bury me. To make matters worse, they leaked stories to the press claiming I had died because I was a drug addict who neglected my “own” child. My soul lingered beside Sienna for ninety years, watching her live a magnificent, blissful life. When she finally died in her sleep, surrounded by loving grandchildren, a white light sucked me in. And now, I’m back to the day she tested positive. I don’t care if this world is a novel or reality. I refuse to follow the script. If fate gave me a second chance, I’m taking the lead. In my last life, I took that phone call and rushed home. I lost my position as the lead dancer. Eventually, thanks to my mother’s meddling, I lost my career at the National Dance Company entirely. This time, I turned off my phone. I followed my troupe to Paris. I landed a solo at a prestigious gala, went viral, and was dubbed the “Prima of the New Age” by critics. By the time I finished my world tour and returned, Sienna’s stomach was already showing. It was time to head back. Rule number one for a supporting character: keep your distance from the protagonist. I needed to legally and socially sever my ties with them. To the people here, I had only been gone for five months. But to a soul that had been trapped beside Sienna for nearly a century, it felt like an eternity since I’d stood in this familiar, suffocating neighborhood. “Oh! Is that you, Sienna? You’re back?” I turned to see our neighbor, Mrs. Henderson, carrying a bag of groceries. She squinted at me with a judgmental smile. “Sienna, I saw you on the news! You’re doing so well! Not like that sister of yours—disappearing for months, getting knocked up by some random guy, and now she’s back parading her belly around like it’s a trophy. So embarrassing for your family.” I blinked. So, even without me being there to agree to the plan, the rumors had already been planted. Because I used my stage name “Karina” abroad and haven’t shown my face to the local press, and because Sienna and I are nearly identical, the neighborhood assumed the pregnant girl staying at home was “the bad sister.” I smiled at Mrs. Henderson. “Mrs. Henderson, I’ve only been gone five months. Have you forgotten me already? I’m Clara, not Sienna.” 2 “That’s impossible! Your mother said…” Mrs. Henderson didn’t believe me until I pulled up my sleeve to show her a faint scar on my forearm. I got that scar years ago when I caught her son after he fell out of a tree. She was the one who bandaged it. She stared at me, her jaw dropping. “You really are Clara? Then the one who’s pregnant is…?” I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s my sister. My mother was so worried about Sienna’s acting career that she… well, you know.” Some things don’t need to be spelled out. Her expression shifted instantly from judgment to deep pity. she squeezed my hand. “Oh, you poor thing. To have your own mother do that to you.” I forced my eyes to turn red, looking like I was trying to stay strong. “It’s okay. Mom has never really liked me. I’m used to it.” In my last life, I was too stupid to explain. I spent my short life being stabbed in the back by whispers. This time, I wouldn’t be so passive. I walked to my front door and knocked. I didn’t have a key; mine had been taken away years ago. In the original “story,” Sienna was the center of the universe. To make her shine, the “author” made the lives of the supporting cast miserable. Every bit of mud thrown at Sienna eventually turned into a flower. In the last life, when her one-night stand at a bar was leaked, the guy ended up being the billionaire male lead. They were “destined” for each other. But without me to carry the mud for her, let’s see how well those flowers grow. “Who is it?” The door was opened by Silas Vance, my boyfriend—at least, he was when I left. He was wearing a baby carrier with a practice doll in it, holding a bottle of warm formula. He was learning how to be a father. I wasn’t surprised. Silas was the classic “Beta Male” of the story—Sienna’s most devoted admirer, or more accurately, her ultimate “simp.” In the last life, I stayed home to care for Sienna. Silas was there every day, constantly criticizing me for not being “attentive” enough. Eventually, he took over the primary care. He took her to every prenatal checkup. He was there for the delivery. When she was bedridden post-op, he carried her to the bathroom and sponged her down. He even washed her silk underwear and hand-fed her every meal. Once, I caught him massaging her legs and felt a pang of jealousy. I said, “Silas, there are boundaries. She’s my sister, but you’re my boyfriend.” He exploded. In front of the whole family, he screamed at me: “She’s your sister! I’m just helping out because you’re incompetent! Clara, your heart is so twisted that you see filth in everything!” Sienna had just smirked, resting her bare feet on Silas’s arm to dry them. “Clara, don’t be so old-fashioned. Silas and I have nothing to hide. We’re doing this right in front of you, aren’t we?” And my mother had shoved me aside. “You’re just jealous of your sister! If you can’t take care of her properly, don’t stop Silas from doing it! I honestly doubt you’re my daughter. Why can’t you be as open-minded as Sienna?” Back then, my emotions were so suppressed that I didn’t even know how to fight back. I just watched my boyfriend treat my sister with a tenderness he never showed me. Silas froze when he saw me. Then, his face twisted into a sneer. “Oh, the ‘Star Dancer’ finally graced us with her presence?” My soul had wandered for nearly a century. I felt nothing looking at him. “The season ended. I came back to see Sienna.” My mother heard my voice and charged toward the door. She raised her hand to slap me. “You’re finally back! Why didn’t you just die in Paris?” I stepped back. Her hand slapped the doorframe with a loud crack. “You dared to move!” she shrieked. Sienna’s voice drifted from the living room. “What’s going on?” She strolled out, wearing a tight maternity mini-dress, sucking on a popsicle. She looked at me with an expression of pure entitlement. “Clara, perfect timing. I’m due soon. You’ll need to take over childcare. I have a major audition coming up, and I can’t have a screaming baby on set.” 3 Looking at her shameless face, I replied coldly, “I won’t.” “What did you say? Say that again!” My mother’s face turned a shade of purple I’d only seen on eggplants. She stared at me, unable to believe that her formerly submissive daughter was saying no. I repeated myself. “I’ve worked too hard to become the lead. I’m not quitting my career to be a nanny.” Sienna frowned. Silas glared at me. “You chose to have this baby,” I said to Sienna. “You should be the one responsible for it, not dumping it on someone else.” My mother slammed her hand on the table. “How can you say that? You’re her sister! Sienna is going to be a superstar. She can’t have the scandal of a child out of wedlock!” “So you recognize it’s a scandal?” I countered. “I’m the lead at a National Dance Company. I care about my reputation too.” Sienna rolled her eyes and patted her stomach. “Clara, don’t be so narrow-minded. It’s the 21st century. Having a baby isn’t a scandal if you have talent! You’re already a lead; who cares if you have a ‘secret’ kid?” I looked at her. “If that’s the case, why don’t you just tell the truth?” She choked for a second. “I’m different. My career is just starting.” “If you have talent…” I threw her words back at her. Silas interrupted, his voice dripping with disgust. “Clara, I never realized how cold-blooded you were. Sienna is your sister. How can you let her dreams fail? It’s just one child. How hard is it to just do this for her?” I looked at him for a long moment. He eventually looked away, sensing my gaze. “Since you put it that way…” I started. Sienna immediately lunged forward to hug me. “I knew you were the best, sis!” My mother’s face softened, though she still looked grumpy. “About time. Talking to you is like pulling teeth. Such a waste of my breath!” Silas smiled. “I’ve already mapped out a growth plan for the baby from birth to eighteen. Just follow it.” I knew that plan. It involved me paying for everything—roughly five thousand dollars a month. He was very generous with other people’s money. “Wait,” I said, breaking their little fantasy. “I wasn’t finished.” “I meant, since Silas thinks it’s so easy and noble, he can raise the child. I have a world tour starting. I don’t have time. I just came to check if you were alive. I’m leaving now. Goodbye.” They were stunned into silence. My mother grabbed a glass and threw it at me. “Don’t you dare walk out that door! You think your wings are strong now? You don’t listen to your own mother? If you leave today, don’t you ever come back! I will disown you!” I didn’t stop. This house had stopped being mine a long time ago. My mother had packed all my clothes into trash bags and moved them to the basement, claiming they took up too much room. My bedroom had been converted into Sienna’s “glam room.” When I came back, I realized even my dishes were gone from the kitchen. The family photos on the wall were all Sienna—her headshots, her “aesthetic” pregnancy photos. There wasn’t a single trace of me left in this house. Funny. I was too blind to notice it in my first life. Silas shouted a final threat. “Clara, if you don’t do this for Sienna, we’re over!” I turned back to look at him. He looked smug, certain his threat would work. “Fine. Let’s break up. I was going to bring it up anyway.” He gaped at me. He couldn’t understand how the woman who had worshipped him, who would do anything to keep him, was suddenly walking away. “Silas,” I said, “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. The way you date me while acting like Sienna’s lapdog? It’s pathetic. You’re gross.” Sienna screamed behind me that they were “just friends.” Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. Severing ties with them felt like dropping a hundred-pound weighted vest. “You’ll regret this, Clara Miller!” Silas roared. No, Silas. You’re the one who’s going to regret it. I hadn’t forgotten. In the last life, he stayed single for Sienna his whole life. When he died saving Sienna’s grandson from a car, his last words to her were: “Sienna, if Clara were still alive, things would be different. Clara, I’ll marry you in the next life.” I wanted to vomit. Who wants a used simp for a husband? 4 I went back to the theater. I practiced, I performed, and I lived. Maybe it was because I had seen so much in my ninety years as a ghost, but my mentor said my dancing had a new depth. It was more haunting, more magnetic. A month later, my partner, Ezra, and my teammates came running into the studio with their phones. “Karina, you have to see this!” I looked at the screen. I was the headline. The “anonymous source” was my mother. She had written a long, poorly phrased “expose” on Twitter. She claimed that the girl dancing on stage wasn’t Clara, but Sienna Miller. She said “Clara” was at home pregnant and that I had stolen my sister’s identity to steal her fame. She wanted to blacken my name while elevating Sienna’s. But she was naive. In a high-stakes professional theater, you can’t just “swap” people. “Hilarious,” Ezra laughed. “Does she think anyone can just do what you do?” “Wait, Sienna Miller?” another teammate asked. “Isn’t that your sister’s name?” I didn’t hide it. “Yeah, it is.” “My sister got pregnant out of wedlock. My mother was so worried it would ruin her acting career that she decided to tell everyone the pregnant one was me.” Ezra stared at me, horrified. “Is she insane? I don’t mean to insult your mother, but… is she okay in the head? Sienna’s reputation matters, but yours doesn’t?” My teammates were furious on my behalf. See? Any sane person could see how messed up this was. But to a “supporting character” tool like my mother, it seemed perfectly logical. The scandal barely had time to trend before it was crushed. My neighbors, led by Mrs. Henderson, posted a video response. They told the truth about my mother’s favoritism. “The mom always favored the younger one. She raised the elder one like a servant,” Mrs. Henderson said to the camera. “Clara has been a dancer since she was a kid, and her mom used to call it ‘trashy’ and ‘begging for attention.’ She used to lock Clara out of the house for practicing.” “Sienna wanted to be a star, so the mom converted Clara’s bedroom into Sienna’s closet. Clara didn’t even have a bed to sleep in when she came home. The girl on TV is definitely Clara. Sienna can’t even stand on one leg, let alone dance.” Listening to them, I felt like I was watching a movie of my own life. A hollow, gray movie where I was just a pawn moved around by a player who didn’t care if I broke. My teammates and the theater’s PR department officially backed me up. My mother was forced to delete her post. But she didn’t give up. She showed up at the theater. She looked at me with pure hatred, as if I were her mortal enemy rather than her child. “Sienna had her baby,” she commanded. “It’s your fault she’s being mocked online now. You have to fix it.” “You’re going to quit this job, come home, and serve her while she’s in recovery. You’re going to raise that baby.”

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While filming a reality show, an actress and her crew ignored the “Do Not Pick” sign in my yard. They broke through the fence and ate the hybrid tomatoes I had spent two years researching. Afterward, she cried and played the victim, and the production team encouraged her fans to attack me for making a fuss over nothing. That is, until I tagged her using my official National Academy of Sciences account, and the internet exploded. 1 The moment I heard the alarm go off, I immediately shut my laptop and walked out into the yard. What met my eyes was a bustling crowd of people surrounding my planting base. The fence, which had been standing perfectly fine, had been violently broken in half. The once-pristine grove was now a mess, with fruit from the trees thrown everywhere. Several burly men carried cameras, filming a delicate young girl from every angle. She looked innocently at the unripe tomato in her hand and sighed: “These fruits are so small, they look sour. Aren’t there any bigger ones?” She smiled ruefully at the camera, her dimples faintly visible. I recognized her as Mia, an actress who had recently become popular from a sweet romance drama. I usually know nothing about the entertainment industry. But during my classes, I often saw students secretly watching her shows. They said Mia was a rare beauty, kind-hearted, and polite. Looking at what was in her hand, those were experimental seedlings that could delay the onset of cancer. After years of hard work, I finally found out that the soil here was the most suitable for these small tomatoes to survive. Carrying my suitcase, I worked day and night in this dusty little village, conducting experiments, collecting specimens, and recording data. It wasn’t easy to get this single surviving seedling. I took a deep breath, afraid I might pass out from anger: “Didn’t you see the sign I put up? Do not pick!” My tone was harsh. Mia was clearly stunned for a moment. Used to being pampered and praised, tears immediately welled up in her eyes. She pouted and said angrily: “It’s just a tomato, isn’t it? “You’re just a yard keeper, how dare you scold me like that!” Mia glanced down at my dusty, worn clothes and muttered a quiet retort. The crew around her immediately noticed what was going on. They ran over to shoo me away. The director, holding a megaphone, said: “This is a filming set, no unauthorized personnel allowed.” I was so angry I almost laughed. They break into someone’s home, make a mess, and then try to kick the owner out. Where is the logic in that? 2 While I was arguing with the director, Mia, throwing a tantrum, had been coaxed to rest on the other side. Just then, two male celebrities walked over. One had a baby face and carried a bamboo basket filled with some wild greens. The other was a cold-looking man, carrying nothing. He had an assistant holding a heavy black umbrella over him. When he looked at me, he instinctively frowned. Seeing that I wasn’t very old, he probably assumed I was an obsessive fan: “Are you a stalker fan? You people really are everywhere, it makes me sick just looking at you.” As soon as he finished speaking, the baby-faced guy tried to smooth things over: “Julian, there must be some misunderstanding. She doesn’t even look like an adult.” Julian snorted coldly, noticing Mia in the shade in the distance. He walked straight over there. The baby-faced guy hopped over to me: “Little girl, is this your house?” I was busy trying to save the broken tomato seedlings and didn’t have time to answer him. Seeing I wasn’t speaking, the baby-faced guy crouched down to help me organize them. After learning that the production crew had broken into my house, he looked apologetic. The baby-faced guy told me this was a reality show about country life. They had invited guests to gather food in the village and divided them into two teams for a competition. The losing team had to cook dinner. Mia was their teammate. They had agreed to go together, but the moment the director said start, she ran off. The baby-faced guy’s apology was sincere, and he even promised to compensate me for the loss privately. Seeing that there was still a chance to save the tomato seedlings, although the results would be delayed by a year or two, my mood improved slightly. The baby-faced guy working diligently beside me had mud on his white shirt, and his perfect makeup was ruined by sweat. Not only did he not have a celebrity’s arrogance, but he also had the rustic charm of a farmer. Seeing me looking at him, the baby-faced guy wiped his sweat: “It’s okay, I’m free so I might as well help you. I’m not famous anyway, the director won’t come looking for me.” I found him much more agreeable: “The wild greens in your basket shouldn’t be eaten together. That weed that looks like okra is called Jimsonweed, it’s poisonous.” He looked terrified and threw the wild greens away: “Thanks, I thought it was okra I had eaten before, almost ended up in the hospital.” 3 When the production crew left, a cold-faced staff member came over. He was Mia’s assistant. Expressionless, he threw two thousand dollars in cash at me: “Consider this compensation. It can buy dozens of pounds of your broken tomatoes. Don’t talk nonsense about what happened on the show, or just wait for a lawyer’s letter.” I remembered what the baby-faced guy had just explained to me. “Be careful of Mia, her fans are crazy. A normal person was cyberbullied into suicide just for saying Mia’s acting was bad. “You know that guy just now? His family is very powerful, and he’s just one of Mia’s suitors. “She has a huge financial backer, Marcus Sterling. It’s said that if he stomps his foot, the whole entertainment industry trembles.” I smiled and ignored the staff member’s threat: “I’ll be waiting for your lawyer’s letter.” 4 After everyone had left. I opened my phone and scrolled to the family section. I clicked on Marcus Sterling’s number: “Hey, brother, I need to ask you about someone…” Before the dial tone even finished, the call was picked up instantly. A deep male voice sounded, carrying a hint of grievance. “Maya, you finally decided to call me. Do you know I’ve turned over every nook and cranny in the country looking for you? “How’s your stomach? Did you skip meals again for your experiments? I’m telling you, don’t stay up all night. You’re young now, but when you’re older you’ll know…” I quietly moved the phone further away. Who would have thought the man acting like a nagging mother on the other end was the cold-faced CEO, dressed in a sharp suit and gold-rimmed glasses in the financial magazines? Years ago, I developed stomach issues because of my research. My brother specifically got a nutritionist certification. When working from home, he would be on a ten-million-dollar phone call while cooking. Wearing a pink frilly apron, looking extremely serious as he used a digital scale to accurately measure the grams of salt. This time, I had gone into isolation for a few years to extract an anti-cancer element from small tomatoes. Except for reporting my safety to my brother, I basically had no time to chat. Originally, we could have proceeded to clinical trials, but now we can only postpone it. Those patients waiting hopefully for my research results will have to wait a long time again. Marcus and I have depended on each other for decades. He clearly heard the exhaustion and sadness in my tone. When I asked about Mia, he immediately noticed something was wrong. I heard him quietly asking the secretary next to him who Mia was. The next second, my brother asked casually: “You don’t like her?” I looked at the fruit scattered on the ground that hadn’t been picked up yet, and sighed: “I don’t have a good impression of people who waste food.” 5 An hour after I hung up the phone. The entertainment news app on my phone pushed the latest news about the Sterling Group. I opened Twitter, which my brother had downloaded for me. On the trending list, the topic of the Sterling Group deleting the announcement of Mia as the spokesperson for the next season exploded. The Sterling Group, rich and powerful, changing spokespersons like changing clothes, always offered high endorsement fees. They only chose top-tier celebrities. For Mia, who had been in the industry for years and wasn’t yet a top star, this was a premium resource. Faced with bystanders who were eager to watch the drama unfold. A group of her fans were aggressively defending her: 【It’s just a bug with the official account that hid it. What are you haters barking about?】 【Who doesn’t know the relationship between Mia and the Sterling Group? Being a wealthy heiress is no joke!】 Some people even tagged Marcus Sterling, 【Why aren’t you doing anything! This is your own sister! What kind of brother are you!】 I was completely confused reading this. Fortunately, there were hardcore Mia fans to explain. It turned out that on the day Mia won the Best Newcomer award, she landed on the number one trending spot. The second trending topic was Marcus Sterling using his official account to congratulate his sister on achieving her wish. He generously gave away hundreds of red envelopes worth over a hundred thousand dollars on the platform. Mia grabbed the largest one, ten thousand dollars. She posted: 【Thank you, brother, love you】. The comment got tens of thousands of likes. Because Marcus didn’t name his sister, and Mia’s comment was pushed to the top. Many uninformed people assumed they were siblings. Someone asked why the brother and sister had different last names. They were brainwashed by hardcore fans, “The sister took the mother’s last name, the brother took the father’s. Doesn’t this just show how much their parents love each other? It means the family is harmonious.” I facepalmed. My parents were indeed very loving. When my mom gave birth to us, it was almost a difficult labor because we were twins. My dad was scared to death. To show gratitude, he let us both take our mom’s last name. Unfortunately, they later died in a plane crash. My brother protected me, heartbroken. Amidst a pack of predatory relatives, he guarded our parents’ legacy. He grew the company to what it is today. He protected me even more carefully, wishing he could keep me tied to him at all times. He kept my information well hidden on the internet. To this day, no one knows I am Marcus Sterling’s twin sister. As a known sis-con, when I became the youngest professor at A University, his pride had nowhere to vent. He wanted to order a giant red celebratory banner and hang it on the front of the company’s headquarters in the bustling city center. I, having some sense of shame, refused him. I could tell with my eyes closed that my brother didn’t read the comments. Or rather, he read them but didn’t care. In his world, besides his beloved mom, dad, and sister, no one else mattered. However, Mia’s fans made a fuss for a long time. Some couldn’t sit still and went to curse at the official account: 【Why hasn’t the bug been fixed yet? The staff in charge of Sterling’s operations should come out and apologize!】 【Offending the CEO’s sister and still expecting good things? Keep dreaming.】 The next second, the official account responded. 【From now on, all subsidiaries and related fields under the Sterling Group will completely cut off all cooperation with Mia.】 Well, there you go. Be careful what you wish for. I chuckled, my mood improving slightly. 6 The negative impact of the endorsement cancellation was too great. Mia’s studio immediately released behind-the-scenes footage of the rural reality show. Under the sunlight, in a fenced yard far from the city’s hustle and bustle, a girl in a floral dress played with water by a small stream. Paired with sweet BGM. When Mia’s signature dimples appeared, the comments were filled with: 【Corporate slave cured, sweet girls are forever the best!】 【Mia is having so much fun, I want to go there too.】 The next second, the cozy vibe took a sharp turn. It was Mia holding a green tomato, facing off against a woman whose face couldn’t be clearly seen. My face was blurred out. My pant legs were rolled up, covered in mud, and my tone was fierce, scolding her for what she was doing. I looked like someone hard to get along with. On the contrary, Mia had red eyes, looking like she had been scared to tears. Her pitiful little bunny look made the fans explode: 【Who is this rural auntie? So classless. Seeing our Mia alone, she’s bullying her, right!】 【I’m so angry. Mia is crying so pitifully. Where did the staff go? Hurry up and drive this idiot away!】 My eyebrows twitched. This footage was taken out of context. It didn’t show at all how she let people destroy my fence or how she wreaked havoc in my yard. Netizens only saw me bullying a little girl. Even at the end of the footage, there was a shot of a staff member handing me two thousand dollars. 【This production crew is so useless, giving her money. How many pounds of tomatoes can two thousand dollars buy?】 【No choice, Mia is just too kind. Luckily there are mom fans. My cousin lives in a village nearby, wait for my news, everyone.】 The comments below were all in agreement. 【Waiting for you. Mia’s fans are not to be messed with. We’ll protect our baby!】 The internet was in an uproar, and it hung on the trending list for a long time. The production team comfortably enjoyed the heat and added fuel to the fire. They re-posted the studio’s behind-the-scenes video on their own account. The views exceeded ten million. They completely ignored the fact that I was an ordinary person with nothing to do with the entertainment industry. I put down my phone. I sent an email to my pharmaceutical company, and in the afternoon, an expert team arrived from out of town. To assess my losses. The cost of drug development is always high, from research to clinical trials to hitting the market. The funds invested range from millions to hundreds of millions. Especially for anti-cancer drugs. A day later, I received a lawsuit for an amount exceeding ten million. The lawyer told me the lawsuit could begin at any time. The director of the program suddenly showed up at my door. 7 That day, I had just had the tomato seedlings sent back to the lab by professionals. Their roots were damaged, so they couldn’t be planted in soil for the time being. I finished packing and was just about to leave. The director suddenly barged in very rudely. He looked at my empty room and was stunned for a moment: “Hey, why are you moving away? Good thing I got here fast.” The director came over in the hot sun, sweating profusely, the fat on his face gleaming with oil. He reached out to pull me. I dodged him. I frowned and said: “I’m a germaphobe.” The director was a bit angry, “What kind of country bumpkin has germaphobia? Hurry up and come with me.” He explained impatiently. “Your interaction with Mia last time had a great effect for the show. Go again today, maintain the previous style, the more unreasonable the better.” After he finished speaking, he gestured: “I’ll give you two hundred a day, fair enough? You wouldn’t make that much farming for a month.” I understood. The director felt that the previous program’s popularity had been hyped up, and wanted to strike while the iron was hot, calling me over to help set up a persona for Mia. To highlight her purity and innocence. It could also manipulate her fans’ emotions and increase attention. I was just about to refuse. The director suddenly received a call. “What? Marcus Sterling is coming to our show to find his sister? In this middle of nowhere, what sister could there be?” He paused: “Could it be Mia? Quick, send someone to the airport to pick up Mr. Sterling! This is a massive stroke of luck, the show’s ratings will skyrocket!” The wrinkles on the director’s face bunched together in a smile, revealing only a pair of sleazy, squinty eyes. I got goosebumps. I hope he smiles this happily when he receives the court summons.

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To save my father, who was dying of leukemia, I aborted my five-month-old baby and donated my bone marrow. But I accidentally discovered that my younger brother was also a perfect match. Everyone had been lying to me. Later, I was reborn. Reborn to the very day I was supposed to donate my marrow. 1. When I was five months pregnant, my dad was diagnosed with leukemia. Out of our entire family, I was the only one who was a match. My mom fell to her knees on the floor, begging me: “Maya, you can always have another baby later, but you only have one dad.” My brother, Noah, called me back-to-back: “Sis, you haven’t even met the baby yet. There’s no real emotional connection. But Dad raised you for over twenty years.” After days of agonizing tears and sleepless nights, I finally made the devastating choice to give up my baby and save my dad’s life. Because getting pregnant had been incredibly difficult for me, my husband naturally fought me tooth and nail. Ridden with guilt, I took the initiative and divorced him. Then, without looking back, I went to the hospital. My dad was saved. But as for me? Between the late-term abortion and the bone marrow donation, my health rapidly deteriorated. Eventually, I was too weak to even hold down a basic desk job. I had to quit, moving back into my parents’ house, where I spent my days doing laundry and cooking for my mom, dad, and brother. Until one day. I found a medical report tucked inside a drawer. It had my brother Noah’s name on it. The conclusion: A Perfect Match. They had been lying to me this whole time. My brother was a viable donor, yet they manipulated me into aborting my baby, destroying my marriage, and living a pathetic, half-dead existence just to protect him. Clutching the report, I stormed out to confront my mom. Blinded by rage, I missed a step. I tumbled down the stairs. But I didn’t die. I was reborn. A groggy haze lifted, and the sharp scent of rubbing alcohol flooded my senses. I opened my eyes. I looked around at the stark white walls. It was a scene I knew too well: I was in the hospital, sitting beside my dad’s bed. I looked down at my slightly rounded belly, and tears instantly blurred my vision—my baby was still here. Perfect. I had been reborn to the time right before the donation. This time, I will fight to the death to protect what is mine. My mom, Susan, was pacing the hospital room, waving the test results. “Old man, you’re saved! I knew Maya would be a match for you!” My dad lay in his bed, his face pale, but a sudden spark of life returning to his eyes. He nodded in deep satisfaction. In a flash, my mom was right in front of me, practically dancing with joy. “Maya, you’re the only one in the family who’s a match! You are our lucky star! Let’s get the doctors to take your marrow right now and save your dad!” she babbled excitedly, her cheeks flushed. I glanced at the report with feigned indifference. Maya Evans, Perfect Match. But looking at it now, it was an absolute joke. I used to think my mom was forced into an impossible corner. That between her unborn grandchild and her husband, she could only choose her husband. That was somewhat understandable. Just like I had agonized over choosing between my child and my father, ultimately leaning toward my father. But now? Not a chance in hell. I stared coldly into my mom’s eyes. “But, Mom, I’m pregnant. Donating marrow means I have to abort the baby. Here, touch your grandchild. You’re literally asking me to commit murder.” I grabbed Susan’s hand and forced it onto my belly. She yanked it back like she’d been burned. “What are you doing?! I’m not asking you to kill anyone, I’m asking you to save a life! Maya, you can always have another baby, but your dad… you only have one dad.” She started breaking down, her voice escalating into a theatrical wail. It was the exact same script as my past life. Hearing it now was just laughable. “But Dad has more than just me. Shouldn’t we take a look at Noah’s results?” “What did you just say?” The color instantly drained from my mom’s face. “Noah got tested ages ago. He wasn’t a match. You know that.” “Really? Let me see the report then,” I pressed relentlessly. “What are you trying to imply?” My mom’s eyes bulged wide. My dad, who had been lying weakly in bed, suddenly struggled to prop himself up, shouting at me: “If you don’t want to donate, then get the hell out!” Gladly. I stroked my belly, supported my lower back, and walked out of the hospital room with my head held high. Behind me, I could hear my mom cursing: “You shameless, ungrateful bitch! I always knew we couldn’t rely on you.” 2. I took an Uber straight to my parents’ house. My parents were at the hospital, and my brother was at work. The house was completely empty. Relying on my memories from my past life, I found Noah’s compatibility report buried deep in a study drawer. Seeing the truth staring back at me again, an overwhelming wave of grief and rage erupted from my chest. These were my “loving” parents. My “loving” brother. I quickly folded the evidence and shoved it into my purse. Right on cue, Noah’s phone call came through. The moment I answered, he started his self-righteous lecture: “Sis, I heard you abandoned Mom and Dad and walked out? Do you have any idea how lost Mom is trying to navigate the billing department by herself? How could you just leave…” I waited for him to finish his long-winded rant before asking, “And what about you? Since Dad got sick, how many times have you actually visited?” “I have to work,” he snapped, clearly annoyed. Two years ago, he landed a cushy government job. According to my mom, he brought “honor to our ancestors.” He was the golden boy. Since my dad fell ill, Noah hadn’t spent a single night at the hospital. I was the one handling the registration, the payments, the medication pickups. “I have a job too. Besides, isn’t your government job supposed to be super relaxed?” I wasn’t going to coddle him anymore. “Fine, fine. I’ll make time to see Dad.” Noah quickly pivoted to the real issue. “But I just found out you’re a match. You can’t just leave him to die.” “Noah, you know I’m five months pregnant. The baby won’t survive the procedure,” I said, playing the emotional card to see his reaction. Noah exploded: “Sis, a five-month-old fetus is just a lump of meat! You haven’t even met it yet. What kind of emotional connection could you possibly have? Stop being so dramatic. Dad raised you for over twenty years. Show some conscience.” I pretended to sound conflicted. “Let me think about it.” “Think about what? What is there to think about?! If I were a match, I would have donated immediately. Would I even need to think about it?” Thank God this was a phone call and not FaceTime, or Noah would have seen the massive, triumphant smirk spreading across my face. “Is that so?” I smiled, snapping a photo of his positive compatibility report and texting it to him. “Then I’ll step aside and let you be the hero.” I hung up the phone, feeling incredibly liberated. Then I headed back to my own apartment. Right now, my husband, Connor, was probably at home sulking. When my dad was first diagnosed, my mom practically forced everyone we knew to get tested—aunts, uncles, cousins, everyone. She even made Connor, who had absolutely no blood relation, get tested. In the end, she tragically announced that not a single person was a match. The only person left was me. My mom begged me to be the final attempt. Connor, usually the most patient man in the world, lost his temper. “Mom, Maya is pregnant! How can she even get tested? And even if she’s a match, what then?” My mom didn’t even glance at him. She just kept crying to me: “Maya, just go try. The chances of matching are so slim anyway, so don’t worry. But it’s the thought that counts. Do you want your dad to die feeling abandoned?” I wavered. Connor stared at me, his eyes red. “Maya, think about this carefully. You know how hard it was for us to get this baby.” I knew better than anyone. I had severely blocked fallopian tubes. We had been married for years without getting pregnant. As we approached thirty, everyone around us was anxious. Whenever my in-laws made passive-aggressive comments, Connor always deflected and covered for me. When they pushed too hard, he even lied and said he was the one with fertility issues and was receiving treatment. His parents finally shut up, and never brought up kids in front of us again. But ironically, without the pressure of being hounded for a baby, I miraculously got pregnant this year. Even the fertility doctor we had seen for years was overjoyed for us. I had cried and asked my mom, “Mom, can we wait? Just wait five more months. After I give birth, I’ll…” My mom’s face turned to ice. “What do you think? With your dad’s condition, he can’t even wait two months. I’m just asking you to get tested. The odds of matching are tiny, and you’re already acting like this. How did I raise such a cowardly daughter? Either you come with me right now, or you’re an unfilial disgrace, and you are never stepping foot in the Evans house again.” In my past life, she practically dragged me to the hospital by force. Connor sighed in utter defeat. Ultimately, our marriage reached a dead end. I thought that after moving back to my parents’ house, they would at least treat me well. I was incredibly naive. My parents were furious. They felt that since I wasn’t bringing in any money, I was just a freeloader. From then on, I never saw a single warm smile from them. My mom would say: “When you divorced, why didn’t you demand more money? What kind of woman divorces and just leeches off her parents?” My brother complained: “My girlfriend is coming over soon. Sis, you should just go rent a place outside.” Even the father whose life I saved with my body chimed in to mock me: “I only have one kidney too, but I’m not nearly as fragile and dramatic as you.” Heh. These were my “loving” family members. 3. So, when Connor saw me walk through the door, his eyes widened in absolute shock. He even stammered, “Maya, you… why are you back? Weren’t you supposed to stay at the hospital to take care of your dad?” “Why wouldn’t I come back? I’m exhausted carrying this baby around, okay? Let Noah and Mom take care of him.” My casual, IDGAF attitude seemed completely incomprehensible to Connor. In the past, I would have been running myself ragged back and forth to the hospital despite his hundreds of attempts to stop me. “Actually, you really do need to focus on your own health.” Seeing me finally give up on being a martyr, Connor was secretly overjoyed. I tentatively asked, “Honey, I have something to tell you, but you have to promise not to get mad.” He nodded. I then told him the truth: I was a match, but my mom was trying to force me to abort the baby to donate my marrow. His jaw practically hit the floor. It was only after I swore up and down that I would never sacrifice our baby that Connor finally let out a massive sigh of relief. He gently pulled me into a hug. “Wife, the fact that you made such a difficult choice… I’m so incredibly moved. I swear, I will use every connection I have to help find a compatible donor for your dad.” I rolled my eyes. “Actually… they already found one.” I pulled Noah’s compatibility report out of my bag and slammed it onto the table. Connor glanced at it, disbelief written all over his face. “This report is dated September 28th. The results came out over a week ago?” “Yep. Exactly.” That’s right. My parents had known the results for a long time. “Then… then why did they… why did they make you go get tested?” Connor’s voice trembled slightly. I flopped onto the sofa, casually popping a cherry into my mouth, completely unfazed. “Simply put, they didn’t want Noah to go through the procedure. So they targeted me, fully willing to sacrifice our baby.” Connor was furious. If I hadn’t stopped him, he probably would have stormed back to the hospital to start a war. “Are they even human?” Connor sounded like he was about to cry. I spat the cherry pit into the trash and said seriously, “You could say they barely resemble humans anymore. But honey, since they had this plan from the start, I don’t think they’re going to give up easily. You need to stay close and protect me.” “As long as I’m here, no one is touching you or our baby.” Exactly as I predicted. My mom’s phone calls started coming in relentlessly. For the sake of my own peace of mind, I muted my phone entirely. Dozens of 59-second voicemails flooded my inbox in minutes. I didn’t even bother listening to a single one. To ensure the safety of my pregnancy, I took an extended leave from work. I stayed indoors, absolutely determined to bring this baby into the world safely. On a bright, sunny weekend, with Connor supporting me, I went downstairs for a walk around the apartment complex. And was immediately ambushed by my mom. I hadn’t seen her in days. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were bloodshot. When she saw me, she lunged like a starving wolf. “Maya Evans! What the hell are you trying to do?!” Connor immediately shifted his body, standing like a wall between us, terrified I might get bumped or shoved. “What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my chin high. “Are you really going to stand by and watch him die?! That is your biological father!” Her voice escalated several octaves. The neighbors walking by stopped and stared, eager for some neighborhood drama. I immediately called out her lies. “Mom, stop pretending. Noah is a match too. Go beg him.” My mom grew even more enraged. “You don’t just want your dad to die, you want to destroy the entire Evans family!” That was a massive accusation. Even I was a bit stunned. Seeing my reaction, my mom suddenly dropped to her knees right there on the pavement. I frowned. “What are you doing? Everyone is watching.” She didn’t care. She started aggressively bowing, her forehead hitting the stone path. Her voice grew even louder. “My daughter! I’m begging you! Save your father! If he dies, I won’t survive either!” 4. A few elderly women who were watching their grandkids nearby felt their gossip sensors tingling and started inching closer. My mom cried even harder. There was even a faint smudge of blood on her forehead. She was really going all out for this performance. Connor and I took a few steps back. We had no interest in playing along with her theatrics. She immediately jumped up, grabbed my arm, and screamed: “You can’t leave! Look at this woman, everyone! Her own father is lying in a hospital bed waiting for her to save his life! And she? She’s hiding here, refusing to lift a finger!” The elderly women instantly transformed into self-righteous judges, pointing fingers at me. “Young lady, your mother is literally bowing at your feet. This… even God would find this unacceptable.” “She looks so pretty, but how can her heart be so ugly?” “You’re pregnant! You need to build good karma for the baby in your belly. How can you refuse to save your own parents?” … The gossipy women unleashed a barrage of judgment. Seeing people taking her side, my mom looked emboldened. But I wasn’t intimidated. I looked at the grandmas, my face calm and my heartbeat steady. “My mom wants me to abort my baby to save him. If this were your daughter-in-law, would you agree? Mrs. Miller, I heard your daughter-in-law is pregnant with her second child. If her parents came begging at your door, would you say yes?” I targeted the loudest one in the group. Mrs. Miller practically fled. “Are you crazy?! Why would you curse my family like that?!” Connor stared at my mom with nothing but resentment. “The worst part is, her own son is a perfect match and could donate. But she insists her daughter must kill an unborn child to save him.” The other bystanders lost interest in lecturing me and slowly dispersed. My mom sighed, switching to a pleading tone. “Noah… he has a girlfriend. She’s the daughter of a high-ranking official. We were planning on him bringing her home this year. The girl’s family didn’t even mind that your dad was sick. It was such a great match! But when they heard Noah might have to donate marrow, the girl refused to marry him. She was afraid it would damage his health.” The moment the words “damage his health” slipped out, my mom looked instantly regretful. I smiled sweetly at her. “So, you’re not afraid it will damage my health?” She looked guilty. “That’s just ignorant people talking. The doctors said it’s perfectly fine.” I calmly tore down her logic. “The doctors said it’s fine for a young, healthy man. But I am a pregnant woman. Never mind the procedure itself—a late-term abortion is incredibly damaging to a woman’s body.” Connor stepped forward. “Mom, if Noah’s girlfriend isn’t willing to risk it, then I am absolutely unwilling to let my wife risk it.” “Good heavens! They aren’t even married yet! I can’t ruin your brother’s lifelong happiness!” She wiped her tears and snot, continuing, “But you two are married. We are one family. Your father-in-law is like your own father. What is there to be unhappy about?” “Then aren’t you afraid Connor and I will divorce? What about my lifelong happiness?” I asked bluntly. She fell silent for a long time. We turned to leave. But to my surprise, my mom still refused to give up. “But if both men in the house damage their health, how are we supposed to survive? Maya, just help the Evans family out. You always loved your little brother the most when you were kids.” My mom desperately clutched my shirt. I violently yanked it out of her grip. “I didn’t love him the most; the entire family ONLY loved him. Now, you can finally ask him for a little payback. As for my bone marrow, don’t even think about it. I will never agree.” My mom stared at me blankly, finally realizing that I truly wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. She suddenly started laughing maniacally. “Hahaha, I raised you all these years, and you turn out to be a vicious, ungrateful snake. Do you really think you’re going to carry that baby to term? Aren’t you afraid of a sudden miscarriage? Aren’t you afraid you’ll give birth to an idiot or a cripple?!” 5. Hearing her violently curse my unborn child, my heart pounded wildly, and my ears started ringing. I could barely stay on my feet. Seeing I was unwell, Connor immediately supported me and started walking me back inside. My mom tried to stick to me like a leech again. Connor threw his arm out to block her. “Ouch!” My mom conveniently collapsed to the ground. “My foot! My foot!” She kept screaming that her foot hurt so much she couldn’t stand up. Connor instinctively reached out to help her up. She refused, lying flat on the pavement. The HOA board members had been watching us ever since my mom started causing a scene. Seeing her fall, they were afraid someone might actually get hurt, so they quickly called an ambulance. As my mom was being loaded onto the stretcher, groaning dramatically, she still managed to reach out and grab both me and Connor. “Don’t let them leave. They pushed me.” We went with her to the hospital. A fractured toe. The doctor said she could be admitted or recover at home. My mom insisted on being admitted. The doctor cast a slightly sympathetic glance at us. My mom snapped: “What are you looking at? My son-in-law pushed me. It’s only right that they take care of me.” Connor defended himself: “Mom, I swear I didn’t push you. You bumped into me yourself.” “What are you implying?!” Although her toe was broken, her upper body was still as fierce as ever. She grabbed Connor by the collar and screamed, her spit flying directly into his face. “Are you saying I don’t care about my own life? That I would joke around with my own safety?!” The doctor quickly intervened. “Ma’am, please keep your voice down in the hospital.” My mom rolled her eyes at him and settled comfortably into the hospital bed. For the next few days, we had no choice but to take care of my mom. But my dad still needed someone too, so we had to hire a private nurse for him. I reluctantly footed the bill. I had no choice. Both the elderly people were bedridden. Honestly, all I wanted was to live my life in peace. I didn’t care about the money. I didn’t want to get tangled up in their drama anymore. A few days later, my mom was discharged—or more accurately, she was “kicked out” by the hospital. Hospital beds were in high demand, and my mom spent every night loudly video-chatting with my dad, severely disturbing the other patients in her room. I thought the ordeal was finally over and that Connor and I’s night-shift nursing duties were finished. Who could have predicted that my mom would pull another ruthless stunt? She called my husband directly. “Connor, let me tell you this. You pushed me and broke my bone. I’ve already consulted a lawyer. It counts as an assault, and you can face criminal charges. It’s up to you. If Maya still refuses to donate her marrow, you can go straight to jail.” Connor had put the call on speakerphone. Listening to her, my face burned with intense shame—this was actually my mother. Connor was just as fierce. He fired back immediately: “Even if I go to jail, I will never let Maya do it. Give up that fantasy.” My mom cursed him as an “ungrateful bastard” and viciously hung up the phone. Not long after, we received a court summons. Accompanied by my brother and a lawyer, my mom sat at the plaintiff’s table, tearfully accusing us. “Your Honor, I just went to see my daughter to ask her to visit her sick father. And what happened? My son-in-law wasn’t happy about it. He violently shoved an old woman like me, and I instantly collapsed in excruciating pain.” The lawyer submitted the ambulance dispatch record, the hospital medical records, and the injury report as evidence. Seeing that we, the defendants, hadn’t even hired a lawyer, he flashed a smug, guaranteed-victory smile. Back when my mom was still in the hospital and cursing Connor every day, I had gone down to the building management office in front of her. I requested they pull the security footage from that specific corner to prove Connor’s innocence. But the management told me explicitly: that area was a blind spot for the cameras. My mom had heard that too. So now, she believed she could completely fabricate this crime against Connor just by acting. 6. Unbothered and unhurried, I presented my witness and evidence. I spoke calmly and clearly: “When the incident occurred, we were indeed in a camera blind spot. However, that doesn’t mean no one recorded the truth.” That day, my mom’s behavior was completely unhinged. Not only did she attract the attention of the elderly women strolling downstairs, but she also caught the attention of Jessica on the second floor of the building across from us. Gossip is human nature. Jessica happened to be free that day, doing yoga in front of her floor-to-ceiling windows. When she saw my mom’s theatrical performance, she completely forgot her poses. She immediately grabbed her phone and started recording. The video clearly showed that Connor was only protecting me, blocking the space between me and my mom. It was my mom who charged forward, slammed into Connor, stumbled, and fell to the ground. From beginning to end, Connor didn’t make a single aggressive move. I knew my mom too well. Thank God I had a backup plan. When I found out there were no security cameras, I was worried my mom would try something malicious. So, I immediately posted in the community Facebook group asking for help. I asked if anyone had witnessed the argument and begged them to come forward as a witness. Jessica immediately added me on WhatsApp and sent me the video. “So that’s what was happening with your family. That old lady’s acting skills are Oscar-worthy.” Jessica had a strong sense of justice and was more than willing to testify in court. So, in the courtroom, the evidence was ironclad. My mom, however, refused to accept it, screaming: “They live in the same apartment complex! They know each other! She’s obviously covering for them!” My brother, sitting next to her, added with an eye roll: “Who knows if that video was deepfaked.” The judge repeatedly yelled “Order in the court,” but couldn’t stop them from shouting. I saw the opposing lawyer helplessly massage his temples—this paycheck is not worth the headache. The witness, Jessica, stated proudly: “I am fully willing to bear legal responsibility for the evidence I provided. If the video is authentic, do you have the courage to admit you are committing perjury?” Finally, the judge ruled that Connor was not at fault. As we walked out of the courthouse, my mom and brother were waiting for us on the steps outside. My mom’s jaundiced eyes were filled with pure venom. “Consider yourselves lucky this time. But there’s always a next time. Oh, I forgot to tell you. The doctor said your dad’s condition is stabilizing. He can hold out for another three months.” Of course, I understood her underlying threat—for the next three months, she would use every vile tactic imaginable to destroy us. My brother stood nearby, speaking with passive-aggressive sarcasm. “Sister, I really don’t understand what you’re holding onto. Does turning this family into a warzone make you happy?” My mom spat on the ground. “To me, she’s not even a part of this family anymore. She just loves causing chaos. She fed her conscience to the dogs.” I didn’t let their words faze me at all. I brushed past them and kept walking. When we got home, Connor looked deeply regretful. “Maya, I’m actually terrified thinking about it now. If we didn’t have that video evidence, I would have been completely screwed. And the scariest part is, if I went to jail and wasn’t by your side, I’m afraid they would resort to physical violence against you. Why don’t I send you away for a while? You can go stay with my parents out of state.” I refused. Their shameless actions had officially crossed my bottom line. I wasn’t going to let them off the hook that easily. So I said firmly, “I’m not going anywhere. From now on, I’m facing them head-on. No, wait… I’m taking the offensive.” “What are you going to do? Don’t do anything rash. I’m worried you’ll overexert yourself. Your health is the most important thing,” Connor said, frantic with worry. “Don’t worry. I absolutely will not make a move unless I know both me and the baby are completely safe,” I assured him. To kill a snake, you must strike its heart. No one understood Susan and Robert Evans better than me. Their most precious heart was naturally Noah. They would rather jump through endless hoops and cause massive destruction than force Noah to draw a single tube of blood. The most ridiculous part was, when they hid that compatibility report, they didn’t even tell Noah about it. They did it to ensure Noah wouldn’t bear a single ounce of psychological guilt. Well then, I was going to target their precious golden boy. 7. I set up a poll on an online forum and bought some promoted traffic to boost its visibility. “An elderly father dying of leukemia VS A baby conceived after six years of struggling with infertility. To save the father, you must abort the child to donate bone marrow. Who do you choose to save?” To be honest, it was a genuinely grueling ethical dilemma. The vote ratio hovered around 50/50, and the comments section was an absolute warzone. Neither side could convince the other. “No one is more important than my parents. I would only choose to save my father.” “Trying to get pregnant for 6 years? Ladies, if the poster aborts this child, she might never be able to conceive again for the rest of her life.” “Upstairs, is a fetus really that important?” “I’m a mother, and I would probably choose the child. Looking at it from another angle, the father is older and has lived a full life, but the child hasn’t even seen the world yet.” … I sat in front of my computer, watching the comment count rapidly climb, closing in on 2,000 comments. On the third day, I decided to host a live stream. Simultaneously, I announced my personal answer to the public. “Poster, is this a real situation you are currently facing?” the viewers in the live stream asked curiously. I admitted it: “Yes. I am currently over five months pregnant. It truly took six years of struggling to finally conceive. However, very unfortunately, my father was diagnosed with leukemia.” Instantly, the live chat flooded with messages of comfort and sympathy. I faked a sorrowful, bitter smile. “However, this situation has already been properly resolved.” The viewers immediately pressed for my decision. I said: “Thank you all for your concern. I don’t have to choose anymore, because my younger brother is also a perfect match.” I pulled out the medical report and displayed it on the live stream. I didn’t even bother to cover Noah’s name. Yes, I did that on purpose. I continued: “But right now, my mom and brother are probably wrestling with the decision. After all, donating bone marrow is no small matter, and it does take a toll on the body…” Someone in the chat immediately corrected me: “For a healthy adult male, donating a few hematopoietic stem cells is perfectly safe. He’ll recover in a few days.” Someone else commented: “Even if it did affect his health, he has to save his own dad! The poster is pregnant and still stressing over her father.” And then, someone noticed: “Wait… this brother, Noah Evans… I think he’s a coworker at my agency.” This live stream hit around 20,000 viewers. After logging off, I sent the live stream replay to a few friends, asking them to spread it as aggressively as possible. We live in a relatively small city. Even a minor piece of gossip can become common knowledge overnight. So a story like this? How could people not relish the drama? Then, I turned off my phone and went to sleep peacefully. When I woke up the next morning, my phone showed over a dozen missed calls. All from my mom and brother. What was going on? Back when they were begging me to donate marrow, they only called about 7 times a day. Are they really this impatient? My mom called again, and I answered without hesitation. “Maya Evans, what the hell are you trying to do?! You are going to drive your brother to suicide! If anything happens to your brother, you won’t survive either! I will drag you to hell with me!” I smiled and said: “What’s wrong? Escalating straight to murder and arson? I haven’t done anything.” My mom screamed: “You haven’t done anything?! Right now, everyone is pressuring your brother to donate marrow! Strangers are calling his phone! He’s being driven insane!” I said nonchalantly: “Then he should just donate it.” “He’s been terrified of pain since he was a kid! And he still needs to get married and have kids to carry on the Evans family bloodline…” My mom’s shrieks continued piercing through the phone speaker. To protect my eardrums, I held the phone far away from my ear. “You guys figure it out yourselves. One is your husband, the other is your son. Either way, it has nothing to do with me,” I said dismissively.

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My dad’s secret son, hidden for eight years, was finally discovered by my mom. My mom swore she would cut all ties with him, even if it meant walking away from the marriage with absolutely nothing. This time, I stopped her. Because I was reborn. My dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness and was dying. As long as we outlived him, every single cent to his name would belong to me and my mom. 1 “Riley, if Mommy and Daddy split up, do you want to come with Mommy?” When my mom asked me this question again, I didn’t hesitate for a single second. I looked her dead in the eye and said, “Mom, don’t get a divorce.” Her eyes grew red with unshed tears. “Did you know your father has a child out there who is only six months younger than you? How am I supposed to swallow this? If we divorce, at least I won’t have to look at him and feel sick. Come with me, okay? You’re all I have left.” “No, Mom!” “Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. Because I lived this life once already. In my past life, when they divorced, my mom fought desperately for my custody. To get me, she agreed to walk away with nothing. The houses, the cash, the company they built from the ground up—all of it fell into the hands of that mistress and her son. Just two months after the divorce was finalized, my dad died of late-stage stomach cancer. The only reason he let my mom find out about the mistress was because he knew he was dying. He wanted to pave the way for his illegitimate son, but he couldn’t bear the thought of my mom taking half his wealth in a standard divorce. So he held my custody hostage. My mom, wanting to protect me, sacrificed the empire she spent years building. The day after the divorce papers were signed, he married the mistress. When he died, that woman and her son legally inherited everything. And then, they hunted my mom and me down. Whatever business my mom tried to start, whatever job she got, they ruined it. Even when she tried to sell trinkets on the street, they hired local thugs to trash her stall. To keep me fed, my mom was forced to work at seedy nightclubs, eventually spiraling into the darkest corners of the sex trade. The mistress tormented her for ten years. Finally, on my eighteenth birthday, my mom jumped from the roof of a 21-story building. After she died, the mistress still wouldn’t let me go. She paid kids at my high school to violently bully me. She twisted the truth, telling everyone I was the illegitimate child and that my mother was the homewrecker who ruined her life. I was an orphan with nowhere to turn. One blurry, disorienting night, I was struck and killed by a speeding semi-truck. And the capital that mistress used to destroy us? It was the exact wealth she inherited from my father. In this lifetime, I will protect my mother. I will never let that cheating scumbag win. 2 “Mom, do you believe in prophetic dreams?” I recounted every single horrific event from my past life to her, detail by detail. She muttered to herself in shock, “I would never degrade myself to do that kind of work… and I would never abandon you by taking my own life.” I knew that. But when you are pushed to the absolute brink of starvation and despair, who can guarantee they won’t grab the only lifeline available, even if it’s covered in filth? Because of my dad’s betrayal, my mom had been heartbroken and stopped managing their company. My dad was using this exact window of time to pretend he wanted her back, making her think he still loved her. Meanwhile, behind her back, he was rapidly consolidating power, aiming to take full control of the corporation. My mom was skeptical of my “dream,” but her love for me ran deep in her bones. Even if it was just a nightmare, she was going to verify it. She went back to the office. That night, when she and my dad came home together, his jaw was clenched. He looked furious. I trotted up to him. “Dad, are you a dirty trash bag?” He choked, his chest heaving as he gasped for air in pure outrage. “People on the internet say men who cheat are just dirty trash bags, and nobody should want them.” My mom immediately slapped a hand over my mouth. “Stay off the internet. Don’t repeat that garbage you read.” I nodded innocently. She let go, and I asked, “Are you and Dad still getting a divorce?” My mom smiled sweetly. “Of course not. I’ve already forgiven your dad. We’re going to live happily as a family of three.” My dad’s face turned a spectacular shade of purple. He scolded me for a few minutes, skipped dinner, and slammed his bedroom door. My mom’s phone buzzed. She was in the shower, so I expertly unlocked her screen. It was the mistress, Vanessa. She was actively trying to provoke my mom, sending a barrage of intimate, disgusting photos of her and my dad in bed. Her texts mocked my mom, goading her to sign the divorce papers immediately. She called my mom a sterile, frigid prude, bragging that my dad preferred her because she was much better in bed. She claimed that she was my dad’s true love, and if my maternal grandfather hadn’t pressured my dad into marriage, she and my dad would have been the legitimate family all along. I typed a reply for my mom: “I don’t believe you. Did you Photoshop these? I remember Richard has a massive mole on his left butt cheek. Your photos don’t show it.” Vanessa took the bait and immediately sent a highly explicit video. To prove her point and traumatize my mom, she filmed it in high-definition, 360 degrees. The mole on my dad’s left cheek was glaringly obvious. It made me want to throw up. Suppressing my nausea, I downloaded the uncensored video and sent it to my own device. After dinner, I opened my laptop and imported the media. I slapped massive, thick mosaic blurs over their private parts and posted it directly to my Facebook and Instagram stories. My caption: “This lady says she’s way better in bed than my mom, and now Dad wants to divorce us! What do I do? Riley doesn’t want to grow up without a dad! (Loud Crying Emoji)” I was only nine years old. Posting this kind of stuff wouldn’t land me in juvenile detention, right? 3 My dad was trying to play the loving, remorseful husband to my mom, while Vanessa was trying to trigger her into a hasty divorce. They thought they were so incredibly smart. I knew my dad would be angry, but I underestimated his absolute, explosive rage. He slapped me across the face so hard I flew backward. Two of my baby teeth were knocked straight out of my mouth. Good god, it hurt. But compared to the agonizing pain of a semi-truck crushing my bones, this slap was just a light drizzle. My mom screamed and tackled him, clawing wildly at his face. She left deep, bleeding scratch marks all over his cheeks. He looked like a monster. He screamed at me to delete the post. I obediently did. But deleting it was useless. It had been up all night. Who knows how many people screen-recorded it? My mom had dozens of wealthy, gossipy housewives on her friends list. I was confident their ability to spread drama wouldn’t disappoint my dad. My dad roared at my mom, “Look at the psychotic daughter you raised!” He slammed the door and left. My mouth was full of blood. My mom was sobbing, trying to drag me to the emergency room. I refused. “Mom, when you’re in danger, you call 911.” She was heartbroken over my injuries but couldn’t stop me as I dragged her directly to the local police precinct. Spitting a mouthful of bloody saliva into a tissue, I walked into the station and finally let out a loud, gut-wrenching wail. With blood staining my lips, I shakily reached out my small hand to a pretty female police officer. In my palm sat the two teeth I had clutched the entire way there. “Officer… Riley wants to report a crime…” My dad had coasted through life on easy mode for years. This was his first time ever sitting in a police interrogation room. And it was for domestic battery against his nine-year-old daughter. He was a prominent, wealthy CEO. He had never experienced this kind of profound humiliation. His face cycled through a rainbow of colors as he sat there with his scratched-up cheeks. My face was swollen to the size of a balloon. The officer explained that my injuries constituted assault. If my mom and I pressed charges, my dad would be facing at least five days in jail, plus fines. Getting him locked up was exactly what I wanted. It bought my mom five crucial days to secure her assets. My dad tried to defend himself by bringing up the explicit video I posted. I immediately pulled out my kid-friendly iPad, opened the blurred video of him and Vanessa, turned the brightness all the way up, and showed it to the entire precinct. “This is the video my dad is talking about. The lady said my dad likes her because she’s good in bed, and she said she gave him a son so my mom needs to divorce him quickly. “Even though my dad is a cheating scumbag, Riley doesn’t want my parents to divorce. “Riley doesn’t want to lose her dad. Riley just wanted the aunties on Facebook to give her advice…” Hitting the emotional climax of my performance, my tears flowed like a broken dam, washing over my swollen, bruised cheeks. If there were a crack in the floor, I’m sure my dad would have shoved his head into it. After a highly uncomfortable silence, the officers gently explained that posting such explicit content online violated platform guidelines. However, since I was a child who didn’t know better and had already deleted it, they let me off with a gentle verbal warning. But now, the entire precinct knew about his disgusting infidelity. The officers looked at him with undisguised contempt. Because my mom and I adamantly refused to drop the charges, and the physical evidence was right there on my face, my dad was hauled off to spend five days singing the blues in a holding cell. 4 Trading two baby teeth for five days of uninterrupted time for my mom was the best deal I ever made. Now wasn’t the time to coddle me. After seeing the dentist, I pushed my mom to go straight to the corporate headquarters. I warned her that several key managerial positions were occupied by Vanessa’s relatives. My mom didn’t waste a second. She hired two towering, intimidating female bodyguards to watch over me, then rushed to the office to clean house. My dad was the classic definition of a gold-digger. He grew up in absolute poverty, raised by a widowed mother who worked herself to the bone to put him through college. My mom’s family wasn’t exceptionally wealthy, but my grandfather was a respected academic who owned a nice house in the city. After my parents graduated and got married, my grandfather sold that house to give them their startup capital. Using that seed money, they grew a tiny two-person operation into a massive tech manufacturing firm worth nearly a hundred million dollars today. My mom was brilliant. She handled the complex operational side of the business flawlessly. But her fatal flaw was her bleeding heart. In my past life, my dad manipulated her empathy, guilt-tripping her into walking away with nothing. She genuinely believed she could just start over from scratch. But the world is cruel. Dragging me along as a single mother, while Vanessa used my dad’s wealth to actively hunt and destroy her… Forget starting a business. We barely had enough to eat. Children are almost always a mother’s greatest weakness. If it weren’t for wanting to secure my custody, my mom never would have surrendered her life’s work. I refused to let history repeat itself. This time, I was the one protecting her! 5 Those five days in a cell must have made my dad hate us to his core. When he was released, he didn’t even bother coming home. He moved straight into the luxury mansion he had bought for Vanessa and his son. Because of the video I posted, he was the laughingstock of his own company. My mom said that on his first day back in the office, he looked like a zoo animal. Employees stared at him, whispering in the hallways. Some of the older, no-nonsense female managers even rolled their eyes and muttered curses as he walked past. Having just gotten out of jail only to face this humiliation, he exploded in a rage, threatening to fire everyone. Naturally, my mom stepped in and vetoed his orders. Discovering that my mom had already fired all of Vanessa’s relatives, my dad had a screaming match with her in the boardroom. The mask was completely off. He knew playing the “remorseful husband” wasn’t going to trick her into leaving empty-handed anymore. He offered a standard 50/50 split of the assets if she agreed to an uncontested divorce. But my mom had already spoken to his private doctor. She knew about his cancer. She knew that even if he underwent surgery, he didn’t have much time left. She absolutely refused to divorce him. These facts validated everything I told her in my “dream.” She would never trust him again. My dad knew his clock was ticking. He couldn’t afford to drag this out for years. But since my mom refused to sign, he had to file a contested divorce lawsuit. In court, my mom held my hand and wept beautifully to the judge. “Your Honor, even though he made a mistake, my daughter and I are willing to forgive him. We’ve built a life together. I won’t abandon our marriage just because he strayed once. “They say you should always try to save a family. I beg the court to dismiss his petition.” I cried on cue. “Daddy, please don’t leave Riley!” My dad looked like he wanted to vomit. He couldn’t produce any evidence of irreconcilable differences, and his affair with Vanessa only proved he was a cheating scumbag, not that my mom was at fault. And yet, my mom and I were publicly declaring our willingness to forgive him. My mom showcased her saint-like capacity for forgiveness, begging him to return to our loving home. After months of legal delays, his first divorce petition was dismissed by the judge. If he wanted to file again, he had to wait a mandatory six months. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have six months to spare. 6 My mom told me my dad was secretly siphoning funds out of the company accounts. He was preparing a nest egg for Vanessa and his son. He was terrified that if he died while still married to my mom, Vanessa would get nothing. He even secretly drafted a will, attempting to leave his half of the corporate shares to his illegitimate son. I asked my mom anxiously, “Why aren’t you stopping him?” She told me not to worry. She said she was tracking every penny and building a legal case, and she absolutely wouldn’t let strangers steal what belonged to us. I had told my mom every horrifying detail of our past lives. She wasn’t blinded by love anymore. I trusted her competence implicitly. My mom and I suffered far too much in the past. I wasn’t being heartless; I just refused to give a single cent to that homewrecking duo. My dad’s actions were truly despicable. He refused to come home, so I had to go to his and Vanessa’s love nest to find him. I knew exactly where they lived. He had set them up in one of the most exclusive, gated communities in the city. I had been there in my past life too. But back then, I went to beg. I had kneeled on the concrete driveway outside their mansion, pleading with Vanessa to show mercy and let my mom live. Instead, she kicked me to the ground. She ground the stiletto heel of her designer shoe into my cheek, smiling radiantly. “This is karma,” she said. “Your mother was a shameless bitch who got in the way of our true love.” The heel dug into my flesh until I bled. The neighbors who gathered to watch spat on me, calling me a bastard child. She promised that if I knelt and bowed my head, she’d let my mom go. I actually did it. But she just laughed louder, clutching her son’s shoulder as she shook with amusement. That plain, unremarkable face of hers made me want to violently throw up. But today, I was here to collect some interest on that debt. 7 Flanked by my towering female bodyguards, I held up a photo of my dad and Vanessa, asking every neighbor I saw until I found their house. The front gates were wide open. The woman who had strutted triumphantly over my bleeding face in my past life was currently watering the rosebushes in the front yard with her son. A picture of perfect, suburban peace. “Auntie Vanessa.” Vanessa froze the second she saw me. When she noticed the crowd of wealthy, gossip-hungry housewives gathering behind me, sheer panic washed over her face. “Tsk, tsk. I always wondered why her ‘husband’ was never home. She told me he was a busy CEO always flying first class. Turns out she’s just a dirty mistress. How shameless!” “She acts so sweet and polite in the neighborhood. Who knew she was such garbage behind closed doors?” “You really can’t judge a book by its cover. I’m telling my kids to stay far away from her son.” The whispers snapped Vanessa out of her shock. She pretended she didn’t know me, insisting I had the wrong house. She was trying to gaslight me in broad daylight. But I had already shown the photos to everyone. No one believed her. As the neighbors’ comments grew more hostile, she lost her temper and yelled at us to get off her property. I aggressively wiped at my eyes, turning on the waterworks. “Auntie Vanessa, please don’t make my daddy divorce my mommy! “If you just leave him alone, I’ll give you all my money! Don’t you just like my dad for his money? I have a lot of allowance saved up!” I dramatically slammed the porcelain piggy bank I brought with me onto the driveway. It shattered, sending quarters and dollar bills scattering across the pavement. I dropped to my knees, frantically scooping them up and shoving them toward her. The crowd’s disgust toward her reached a boiling point. Her son, Tyler, charged at me, raising his fists. I immediately grabbed his ear and twisted it hard. He shrieked in pain. Vanessa tried to rush me, but my bodyguards easily pinned her arms behind her back. I cried while cursing, and while cursing, I kicked, scratched, and pinched. Like a feral animal, I unleashed every ounce of my pent-up rage directly onto Tyler. “If it wasn’t for you, my dad wouldn’t abandon me! You stole my dad! It’s your fault! It’s all your fault!” Girls hit their growth spurts earlier. Tyler was half a head shorter than me and stood absolutely no chance. I beat him until he was wailing on the ground. He wasn’t my brother. He was a demon. He and his vile mother stole everything from us and then sadistically tortured us for fun. In my past life, as he grew older, he paid kids at my high school to spread rumors that my mom was a deranged stalker who ruined his parents’ lives. He orchestrated having me locked in bathroom stalls, my textbooks shredded, and my assignments destroyed. He even had thugs throw garbage water on me while I walked home. He was rotten to his very core. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook just because he was a “kid.” 8 By the time my dad rushed home, Tyler’s face was bruised and battered. Vanessa clutched her son, weeping beautifully. My dad raised his hand, furious, intending to strike me. My bodyguards immediately stepped in front of me, glaring at him, fists clenched, ready to drop him if he moved an inch. I poked my head between their shoulders and craned my neck toward him. “If you want to go back to a jail cell, hit me! Do it! Kill me right now!” “You knocked out two of my teeth last time! Are you trying to do it again?!” “I’m just trying to protect my family! What did I do wrong?! You have no shame, cheating on my mom! I have the worst luck in the world having a father like you!” There were too many people watching. We were surrounded. They chattered endlessly, condemning Vanessa and my dad’s disgusting behavior. The very people they had tried to impress in this neighborhood were now publicly shaming them. My words struck my dad’s fragile ego so hard he clutched his chest, swaying dizzily. Finally, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed face-first into the rosebushes. I didn’t expect him to be this fragile. He literally passed out from anger. I immediately cried and screamed, dialing 911. When the ambulance arrived, Vanessa tried to climb in with her bruised son. I forcefully shoved her out the back doors. My dad’s extreme surge of anger triggered a cascade of severe medical complications. He was admitted to the hospital immediately. His cancer had spread aggressively. The doctor said that if he didn’t have surgery immediately, he wouldn’t even survive the month. If he opted for the surgery, there was a 30% survival rate. And even if it was successful, it would only buy him six months to a year. When my dad woke up, the first thing he saw was me. He opened his mouth to curse me, but my mom instantly slapped him hard across the face. “Since you’re already bedridden, shut your mouth and behave!” My dad’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull in rage, but he was so weak he couldn’t even walk without gasping for air. How could he fight my mom? I pinned his shoulders to the mattress, relayed the doctor’s exact words, and asked him what he wanted to do. I have no idea if he got the surgery in my past life, but he died shortly after regardless. His face turned an ashen, deathly gray. He was clearly terrified. But what did that have to do with me and my mom? Whatever he chose, he wasn’t escaping the grim reaper. 9 He ultimately chose the surgery. I wasn’t surprised. A coward like him would cling to even a 1% chance of survival. His mother had passed away long ago, leaving me and my mom as his only legal next of kin. My mom signed the surgical consent forms. Before the operation, he demanded to see Vanessa and Tyler one last time. My mom adamantly refused. He demanded his phone to call them, but my mom had confiscated it. He cursed and screamed, throwing everything he could reach off his bedside table. I grabbed my mom’s hand. “If he wants them here so badly, let them come.” My mom didn’t understand. She just found the sight of them nauseating. But seeing my insistence, she agreed. Vanessa brought Tyler to the hospital, throwing herself onto his chest and weeping loudly. Just as she was mid-sob, the attending doctor led a group of nurses in for morning rounds. I proactively introduced Vanessa’s identity to the entire medical staff. Under the judgmental stares of a dozen professionals, Vanessa’s pale, delicate “innocent” face flushed bright red with extreme embarrassment. Especially since the illegitimate son standing next to her looked almost my exact age. My dad’s face was equally horrifying to look at. The reputation and dignity he had spent a lifetime building were completely annihilated. I looked at the doctors with teary, red eyes. “Even though my dad did terrible, unforgivable things, Riley doesn’t want him to die. Please, doctors, you have to save him.” My dad looked like he wanted to die on the spot. But this was only the beginning. My mom contacted several senior executives and board members from the company to “visit” him. As soon as the doctors left, the executives filed in. Vanessa grabbed Tyler, desperate to flee, but my bodyguards blocked the door. “Since Dad wanted you here so badly, you’re going to stay and let everyone get a good look at you.” After the corporate team left, it was his old classmates. Elementary school, middle school, high school, college. Anyone my mom could dig up from his past, she invited. Wave after wave of visitors poured in. And every single time, my mom politely and thoroughly introduced Vanessa and her son to the room. My dad was stripped of his dignity down to his very bones. Social death in its purest form. Vanessa fared no better, and her son Tyler shrank into the corner, hiding his face in shame. My mom calmly unscrewed her thermos and took a sip of tea. “We have a few distant relatives back in our hometown. If you’d like, I can have Vanessa bring the boy to meet them tomorrow too.” My dad weakly croaked for Vanessa and Tyler to get the hell out.

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My sister-in-law is a strict vegan. She insisted on raising her baby exclusively on a plant-based diet. She even planned to replace my nephew’s baby formula with soy milk. As a pediatrician, I strongly advised her to ensure a balanced diet with both meat and vegetables, advocating for science-based parenting. In the end, my nephew grew up healthy and strong. But whenever he faced any difficulties in life, my sister-in-law would tell him: “You were supposed to be a pure vegan baby from the womb, blessed with good karma. It was your aunt who ruined your vegan blessings.” Because of this, he resented me for years, and one night while I was fast asleep, he smothered me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister-in-law asked for my advice. This time, I smiled and said: “You’re the mom, you have the final say.” 1 I was reborn on the day of my nephew’s one-month celebration. My sister-in-law, Chloe, was holding the baby, bragging to a table full of relatives about her “pure vegan from the womb” baby. She proudly declared that she had stuck to a strict vegan diet for two years. Even during her pregnancy, she hadn’t touched a single egg or drop of dairy. She proclaimed that the baby would also be raised exclusively vegan—no formula, only soy milk. The relatives thought it was absurd. They chimed in, urging her that growing children need proper nutrition and asking how he could possibly survive without formula. What if it affected his development? Chloe brushed them off, unimpressed. “You guys just don’t get it. Babies who are vegan from the womb are blessed. They’re bound to be much smarter than ordinary kids!” “Isn’t that right, Aria? You’re a doctor. Why don’t you tell them? Isn’t a vegan diet better?” As she spoke, she turned her gaze toward me. I drifted off for a second, then the memories came flooding back. In my past life, she had asked me the exact same question in front of everyone. Back then, driven by professional integrity, I told her the truth. In the pediatric ward, I had treated countless children suffering from malnutrition. I had seen those “pure vegan from the womb” babies that were so trendy in extreme vegan circles. Most of them were shorter, more lethargic, and had weaker immune systems than their peers. Children need a variety of trace elements for growth, many of which simply cannot be provided by a pure vegan diet. A balanced diet of meat and vegetables is essential, and parenting must be grounded in science. Chloe’s face fell, and she stayed silent. Eventually, persuaded by the elders, my brother finally decided against forcing the child to be vegan from birth. My little nephew grew up safe and healthy. But what I didn’t expect was that from then on, every hardship he faced in life would be blamed on me by his mother. If he hit a roadblock in his studies or had a fight with a classmate… Chloe would tell him, “You were supposed to be a pure vegan baby from the womb, blessed with heavenly karma to succeed in everything. But your aunt ruined your blessings.” This led to him resenting me from a very young age. Finally, during one of my visits home, he slipped sleeping pills into my milk and smothered me with a pillow in my room. The security camera in the living room caught a glimpse of it. When Chloe discovered it, her first action was to have my brother delete the footage. Then, they told everyone I died of a sudden heart attack. My mother cried until she lost her voice at my funeral, but after all the guests had left… She held my portrait and whispered, “Aria, I’m sorry. Mom has already lost a daughter; I can’t lose my grandson too.” She knew everything, but she chose silence. These were the family members I had treated with genuine love. Thinking back to this, I looked at Chloe’s eager eyes and offered a mild smile. “There’s no parent who doesn’t want the best for their child. How to raise him is, of course, up to the mother.” She was extremely satisfied with my answer. “See? Even the doctor agrees! What more is there to question!” Yes, this time, I wanted to see just how much “good karma” your pure vegan baby could muster. 2 After the banquet, my mom pulled me aside on the sofa. “Aria, you know we live out of state and it’s not convenient. We’re counting on you for the baby’s formula and things like that from now on.” In my past life, whenever it was time for formula or baby food, they made me buy it. Their excuse was, “Since you’re the one advocating for science-based parenting, naturally, you should be responsible for it.” During that time, my money flowed out like water. When I tried to settle the expenses with my brother and sister-in-law, my mom would intervene, “We’re all family, why are you keeping such strict accounts?” So, more than half of the expenses of raising their child were siphoned from me. But this time, I wasn’t going to be their cash cow. “Mom, Chloe said she’s doing a pure vegan diet. Which formula on the market is vegan?” Her smile froze. She glanced at Chloe, too afraid to offend her daughter-in-law. “Then… what should we do?” What should you do? Feed him soy milk, of course. I took her hand and smiled warmly, trying to comfort her. “Oh, come on, Chloe knows how to raise her child. You just relax and stop worrying.” She looked embarrassed and had to let it go. Then, she watched helplessly as Chloe ordered a massive sack of soybeans online and commanded her to make soy milk every single day. 3 Two months later, in the dead of night, I received a phone call from my hometown. It was my brother, Mark. “Aria, Noah has a high fever that won’t break! Hurry back and take him to the hospital!” Noah was my nephew’s name. It was the same in my past life. Whenever he had a slight headache or fever, my brother and sister-in-law’s first instinct was to call me. They wouldn’t even go to the hospital themselves; they just dumped the responsibility entirely. And I, brainwashed by my mother’s “we’re all family” rhetoric, would take charge of everything. But now, looking at the fact that my shift was over, I leisurely took off my white coat and stretched. “I can’t, Mark. I’m on call and have patients to see. I can’t leave!” The voice on the other end grew frantic: “What patients? Do you not understand prioritization? Who could be more important than your own nephew?” I smiled faintly. “Mark, don’t worry. Didn’t Chloe say that vegan babies are blessed and have stronger immune systems than normal babies? I figured he wouldn’t get sick, so I didn’t make any preparations.” Mark was furious and started yelling at me. Then, he turned his anger on Chloe: “Didn’t you say a vegan diet makes him healthier? Why is he sick?!” Chloe refused to back down: “It’s just a minor illness. It’s no big deal if we don’t go to the hospital. This child has good karma; he’ll be fine.” An argument erupted on the other end of the line. The sound of things breaking and doors slamming echoed back and forth. By the time they finished their commotion and took the baby to the clinic, his temperature had spiked to 106 degrees. 4 However, no one died. Small clinics are best at routine fever reduction. A few bottles of antibiotics, and the effect is immediate. In contrast, major hospitals have strict regulations on IV fluids and prohibit the abuse of antibiotics, so fever reduction isn’t as fast. In my past life, I was even subjected to Chloe’s passive-aggressive remarks because of this. “Big hospitals just know how to make money. A simple IV could solve it, but they always want to admit you!” But she didn’t know that the dependency caused by long-term antibiotic use is a disaster for a child’s immune system. This time, I wouldn’t interfere. Let him get as many IVs as she wished. A child’s destiny is inherently proportional to their parents’ understanding. There is absolutely no need to force a change. 5 The day after the IV, Noah’s temperature returned to normal. Chloe was thrilled, increasingly convinced this was the result of his vegan diet. She immediately posted an update on social media. [Other babies take ten days in the hospital for a cold and still aren’t better. My vegan baby’s fever broke in one night!] She declared that not only would she stick to the vegan diet even more resolutely, but she would also promote the benefits of being vegan from the womb to more pregnant friends. And in the comments section, her circle of friends were all uniformly saying: [Rejoice and praise, boundless merit.] I swiped past casually and calmly turned off the screen. Let her continue wasting her time like this. 6 Time flew by. When I saw Noah again, he was already seven years old. He looked vastly different from my impression of him in my past life. His complexion was sallow, his hair dull and dry, and he was a full two or three inches shorter than kids his age. He stood blankly in the corner, unwilling to communicate with anyone. But Chloe remained as proud as ever. Over these years, under her strict training, no one in the family dared let Noah have a single bite of meat. Even on his birthday, when my mom added a tiny bit of lard to his longevity noodles, Chloe scolded her mercilessly. She was very proud of this, bragging to everyone she met: “Our Noah is just like me. He wants to throw up at the smell of meat.” I pursed my lips and stayed silent. Why do extreme vegans always take pride in being unable to stand the smell of meat? That’s a sign of liver damage. 7 After dinner, my mom held my hand, her eyes eager. “Aria, this is your only nephew. You can’t ignore his elementary school enrollment.” They wanted me to pull some strings to get Noah into the prestigious private Oakridge Elementary. In my past life, with my tutoring, he successfully got into that school. Because it was close to my workplace, he lived with me after starting school. I was responsible for his food, clothing, and daily expenses. I took care of him for nine whole years, until he got into a top high school and secured a guaranteed admission to a prestigious university. And on the day the family threw a celebratory banquet for him, he murdered me with his own hands. Before I died, I heard him say: “If it weren’t for you meddling and taking me away from my parents, I wouldn’t have suffered so much for so many years. “If I had just followed my mom’s vegan diet from a young age, studying wouldn’t have been so hard!” It turned out that my pouring my heart out to provide him with educational resources his original family lacked was, in his eyes, “suffering.” All the money spent on him over those years didn’t earn a single word of gratitude, only accumulated endless resentment. In nine years, I had successfully raised an ungrateful monster. Thinking of this, I spoke calmly: “Mom, it’s just an entrance exam. “With the intelligence of a baby who’s been vegan from the womb, he’ll definitely ace it. Right, Chloe?” As I spoke, I looked at Chloe. She raised her eyebrows proudly: “Of course. An exam like this is a piece of cake for my son.” I smiled. I also wanted to know what score he would get in this life. 8 On the day the exam results were announced, Chloe scrolled on her phone for ages but couldn’t find her son’s name. It wasn’t until she scrolled to the very end of the dense Excel spreadsheet that she finally saw the name “Noah Thorne.” Reading: 52, Math: 34, English: 41. The maximum score was 100. She exclaimed it was impossible. “The school must have made a mistake. How could my son score so low?” 她 paced around the living room, muttering to herself for a long time. I almost wanted to laugh. The multiple elements needed for a child’s brain development cannot be provided by a pure vegan diet. For example, DHA, which affects intelligence, can only be obtained from fish. Being a vegan since childhood, it would be a miracle if his IQ were normal. But Chloe clearly lacked this knowledge base. After muttering for a long time, she turned to me again: “Aria, go talk to the school leadership. Ask them to check if there was a mistake. Otherwise, someone must be cheating!” I was instantly speechless. So the over 300 students ahead of him were all cheating? My mom glanced at Chloe in dissatisfaction but didn’t dare say anything. She could only look to me for help: “Aria, you’re the most successful one in our family. You have to figure something out for your nephew.” Mark chimed in: “Yeah, why don’t you go buy a gift for the principal and ask for a favor? One more student won’t hurt.” If gifts could secure admission, wouldn’t the parents of the other 300-plus students be doing the same? If it’s so easy to use the back door, why doesn’t he do it himself? This brother of mine is always so unrealistic. 9 I sighed, looking troubled: “It’s not that I won’t help Noah. Chloe said vegan babies are the smartest and exams are no problem. I didn’t prepare anything. Now that admissions are closed, it’s too late to ask for favors.” Hearing this, Mark’s face darkened, and he pointed at Chloe, starting to complain: “Didn’t you say that as long as he ate vegan, exams wouldn’t be an issue? What happened now?” Chloe rolled her eyes, put her hands on her hips, and started scolding: “Why are you blaming me? It’s definitely the school’s problem. Don’t I know my own son? He’s always been the brightest. “If you ask me, these private schools just give tricky and weird questions to make things difficult for people. It’s better not to go!” The two started cursing and arguing again. I slowly stepped forward to mediate: “Chloe is right. True gold shines everywhere. As long as the child is smart, it doesn’t matter what school he goes to.” This farce ended with their argument. And Noah in this life would never have the chance to enter Oakridge Elementary. He could only stay locally and attend the most ordinary school. High-quality educational resources were forever out of his reach.

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My parents bought a condo near my college for me and my younger brother. Just because I brought my best friend over to crash for one night, my brother’s girlfriend threw a massive fit on the spot: “You’re already freeloading off your brother every day, and now you have the nerve to bring your friends here too? Do you have no shame?” I turned right around and threw her luggage out the front door: “Listen to me, little girl. From now on, if you ever step one foot inside this house again, I will make you regret it.” 1 My twin brother, Liam, and I got into the same university. It wasn’t far from home—just an hour away by train. The campus was right by the beach. My parents didn’t hesitate to buy a spacious three-bedroom condo nearby, making it convenient for Liam and me to live off-campus if we wanted. They figured whenever they missed us, they could drive down and stay for a bit too. Even though the dorms weren’t great, I was a total extrovert. I got along perfectly with my three roommates, so I chose to live on campus most of the time. I only occasionally went to the condo to spend the night. Today, after eating lunch in the dining hall, I suddenly got the urge to check on the condo. After all, the semester was more than half over, and I hadn’t been back once. The condo my parents bought was very close to campus—just a fifteen-minute walk. Standing in front of the door, I expertly punched in the passcode Liam and I had set together. To my surprise, after trying twice, the lock kept flashing “Incorrect Passcode.” Confused, I called Liam. When he answered, he sounded noticeably tense: “Haven’t you been living in the dorms the whole time? Why did you suddenly decide to go to the condo today?” My tone sharpened a bit: “What, am I not allowed to go to my own place? Why did you change the passcode on the smart lock?” “Chloe, don’t get mad. We’re waiting for the elevator right now, we’ll be right up. I’ll explain when I get there.” It wasn’t until Liam came rushing over that I understood who “we” was. Standing next to him was a girl with flawless, full-glam makeup. She was pretty enough, but her expression was totally blank. Even when she saw me, she kept a sour look on her face, as if my appearance was incredibly annoying to her. Liam hurried over, looking a bit embarrassed as he introduced her: “Chloe, this is Mia, my new girlfriend. She’s been living here with me recently.” Wow. My own brother got a girlfriend, and they even moved in together, and I, going to the exact same school, had absolutely no idea? “Mia, this is my sister, Chloe. We go to the same school.” Mia finally glanced at me, greeting me with a lukewarm: “Hey.” 2 It turned out the passcode had been changed—to Mia’s birthday. The reason? Mia complained that the passcode Liam and I originally set was too complicated and she couldn’t remember it. I was honestly speechless. Why on earth should the passcode to my house be changed just because she couldn’t remember it? But figuring this was our first time meeting, I didn’t show too much emotion. It wasn’t until I walked inside that I realized changing the passcode wasn’t even the craziest part. The craziest part was—my brother actually swapped my room with his. When my parents bought this three-bedroom place, my dad explicitly stated that the master bedroom with the en-suite bathroom was for me, since I was a girl and it would be more convenient. But now, what was supposed to be my room was piled high with a stranger’s clothes. I scanned the room, then walked into the en-suite bathroom. Seeing the state of it, I almost laughed out of pure anger. The expensive skincare products I had left here were all completely empty. You didn’t even have to guess to know who used them. Changed my passcode, took my bedroom, used my skincare. Wasn’t this girl crossing a line? Noticing my displeasure, Liam immediately switched to suck-up mode, sidling over: “Chloe, I’m so sorry. Mia and I have been staying in your room lately. But you’ve barely stayed here a few times this whole semester, and I thought it was a waste to leave such a big room empty.” Liam kept apologizing with a forced smile, while Mia sat in the living room eating fruit, acting as if no one else was there. She didn’t show the slightest intention of apologizing for taking over my room and using my things. Seeing this, I looked at Mia with a fake smile: “Could you please let me know when you finish someone else’s skincare products in the future? Otherwise, what am I supposed to use tonight?” Hearing this, Mia finally lifted her eyelids. Her tone was dripping with passive-aggression: “Sorry about that, Chloe. If you really care that much about those little sample sizes, I’ll just have Liam buy you new ones.” 3 I was absolutely mind-blown. When I vented to my three roommates about it, they all urged me to move back into the condo for a while. “Who lives in someone else’s house and changes the passcode to their own birthday?” “Taking your room, using your stuff… fine, she used it. But to be so unapologetic about it? That’s insane. She really thinks that condo belongs to her, doesn’t she?” “Chloe, if you don’t go back and live there for a bit, that girl is probably going to assume that place belongs to her and your brother, and that it has nothing to do with you.” After hearing that, I immediately packed my suitcase and moved to the off-campus condo that very night. It was only after I moved back that I discovered Liam had somehow picked up a part-time job. To be honest, the allowance our parents gave us wasn’t massive, but it was still a solid $1,500 a month each. That was plenty for me, a girl who needed to buy skincare and makeup. Liam didn’t smoke or drink, so why on earth did he need a part-time job to make money? I planned to ask Liam what was going on that night. At 11:30 PM, my brother finally got home, carrying a container of fresh strawberries. “Chloe, you’re not asleep yet?” He looked surprised, then smiled. “The strawberries at the convenience store where I work were on sale. I know you love them, so I brought some back for you.” I let out a soft hmph. Maybe it was because I had bossed him around since we were kids, but Liam had developed a really good temper and knew how to take care of people. I ate the strawberries he washed for me and asked: “Are you really that strapped for cash? Why are you working a part-time job?” “I have no choice,” Liam said, leaning tiredly against the sofa. “The new iPhone 15 just came out, right? Mia’s been begging me to upgrade her phone. She’s my girlfriend; of course, I want to give her what she wants.” “…” To that, I could only express my “respect” and wish him luck. I never expected that during class the next day, I would suddenly receive a text message from Mia: [Usually, older sisters spend money on their younger brothers, but not you. Strawberries are expensive, and you actually have the nerve to eat the ones your brother bought you? Liam works hard for his money. If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t let him buy things for you anymore. Thanks.] 4 I actually laughed out of anger. My own brother bought me some strawberries, and this not-even-engaged girlfriend thinks she has the right to dictate things? Knowing that Mia and I didn’t get along, my brother was caught in the middle and in a tough spot. I could tell Liam really liked this girl; he catered to her every whim. So, I tolerated what I could. But the real explosion between Mia and me happened because I brought my roommates home to crash for a night. It was my roommate Sarah’s birthday. The four of us went out to a club to celebrate. By the time we headed back, it was past midnight, and the dorms were locked. I suggested we crash at my condo. Sarah looked worried and said: “Is that a good idea? Won’t your brother’s girlfriend get mad?” I knew my friend was just looking out for me, but that sentence triggered me. My parents bought this condo for us. Why should I have to walk on eggshells around my brother’s girlfriend? At my strong insistence, my three roommates followed me home. Even though everyone had been drinking, my friends were considerate. Knowing it was late and Liam and Mia were asleep, they tried to be as quiet as possible. We slept peacefully through the night. The next morning, the moment I walked out of my bedroom, I saw Mia stomping toward me, looking furious and ready to interrogate me: “Chloe, what is your problem? It’s bad enough you freeload off us every day, but now you’re bringing your whole crew of friends to spend the night? Do you have no sense of boundaries?” Perfect. My friends were still right there, and she just aggressively threw that in my face. If I tolerated this, I’d change my last name! I didn’t say a word. I turned around, marched into her bedroom, grabbed her suitcase, and rapidly shoved all her clothes inside. Then I opened the front door and forcefully threw it outside! The suitcase wasn’t zipped properly, and her clothes scattered all over the floor. “Have I been too nice to you these past few days?” I pointed at the door, speaking calmly, “Get out. You are no longer welcome in our home.” Mia clearly hadn’t expected me to actually do this. She froze for a second, then sneered mockingly: “Who do you think you are? Let me tell you, Chloe, your brother is the only son in the Thorne family. Everything in this house belongs to him. Once you get married, you’re an outsider. What right do you have to tell me to get out?” 5 I was absolutely dumbfounded by Mia’s words. It was hard to imagine that this garbage was coming out of the mouth of a woman my own age. She hadn’t even married into the family yet, and she was already calculating that everything my family owned belonged to her and my brother? I laughed: “Listen to me, little girl. From now on, if you ever step one foot inside my house again, I will make you regret it. And if you actually manage to marry into our family, I’ll admit defeat.” I could tell Mia was furious. I glanced at her: “Still not leaving? Are you waiting for me to call security?” “I’m leaving.” Mia gritted her teeth. “I’ll wait for your brother to beg me to come back. Chloe, just you wait.” SLAM. I forcefully shut the door. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I opened our family group chat and recounted exactly what had just happened, sending it directly to the group. This was a small group chat with just the four of us: my parents, Liam, and me. We chatted in it often; Liam and I popped in almost every day. As soon as the message was sent, my mom immediately jumped in: [Liam has a girlfriend? Since when? I’ve never heard that brat mention it.] My dad zeroed in on the main issue: [They’re living together? Is he ready to take responsibility for that girl, moving in together like that! [If he wants a girlfriend, your mom and I won’t stop him. But look at what she said! How are you an outsider? To me, she’s the complete stranger who has absolutely nothing to do with this family!] My dad went even harder, issuing an ultimatum: [Listen to me, boy. We won’t stop you from dating, but take a good look at what kind of person you’re with. If you still want to be with her, I won’t stop you, but you’re packing up and moving out today. From today on, this condo belongs solely to your sister. Figure it out yourself!] 6 The group chat was filled with my parents venting their anger. My brother never showed up, and I couldn’t reach him when I called. It was already past midnight. Normally, Liam would be back from his shift by now, but today he was nowhere to be found. It was fall, the rainy season. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder roared. It had been raining heavily all day. A chill breeze blew in from an open window, making me shiver. I felt a twinge of regret. Should I have handled this privately with Liam? Was it a bad idea to drag our parents into it? Just as I was thinking this, the sound of the passcode being entered came from the smart lock. I turned and saw Liam. He was soaking wet because he didn’t have an umbrella. I grabbed some paper towels and walked over: “Where have you been all day? You weren’t answering your phone either.” Liam didn’t speak, but I guessed he had seen the messages in the group chat. Our parents had been scolding him all afternoon; he definitely wasn’t feeling great. I dried his hair with the towels, trying to figure out how to comfort him. To my surprise, Liam turned his head away. When he looked at me, his eyes were full of resentment: “Chloe, did you really have to do that to Mia?” I froze. Liam continued: “Even if you didn’t want her living here, did you really have to pick a day with this kind of weather to kick her out?” Honestly, I never expected that my brother, whom I’d rarely fought with since we were kids, would one day argue with me over a girlfriend. In that moment, I was so angry I laughed: “Are you blind to the things she said to me? Can’t you see it? It’s clearly her fault for overstepping, and now you’re blaming me? This is my house. Do I need to pick a specific date to kick a stranger out?” “This is your house, but isn’t it my house too? Do I not have the right to use it?” Liam’s voice rose, getting agitated. “I know you look down on Mia and judge her because she comes from a rural family. But our family isn’t exactly billionaires either, right? What’s there to be so arrogant about? Did you have to humiliate her like that? Do you know she had a fever and cried all day? Her family doesn’t have as much money as ours, but she’s still her parents’ precious daughter. When has she ever suffered like this!” With that, Liam bumped past me: “I just came back to grab some essentials. Mia is waiting for me at a hotel.” 7 When did I ever look down on Mia or judge her for being from a rural family? I did know about her family background, but my objection to them being together had nothing to do with that! It was Mia who acted entitled, assuming everything in this family would belong to her and my brother. She occupied the condo my parents bought for both of us, yet scolded me for lacking boundaries. Her character was the problem! After that argument, Liam and I didn’t speak for two days, and he didn’t come back to the condo to sleep. A few days later, while eating alone in the dining hall, I unexpectedly ran into Liam and Mia. As soon as she saw me approaching, Mia immediately looked away—I don’t know if she did it on purpose—and turned to whine to Liam, asking to eat the ribs from his plate. Liam, on the other hand, looked guilty when he saw me. He quickly stood up, his tone trying to appease me: “Chloe, what do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it for you.” I didn’t say anything. Liam persisted, acting shameless: “Chloe, don’t ignore me. I was wrong for what I said before. Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll buy it for you. Anything you want, consider it an apology, okay?” I still didn’t say a word. Just then, my phone rang. It was my dad. I turned and walked a few steps away to answer it. As soon as I picked up, I heard Mia’s displeased voice faintly drift over: “Why are you buying her food? Does she not have her own money? She’s always spending yours.” “How much could one lunch cost? The pair of sneakers my sister bought me for my birthday cost more than a month’s worth of meals, okay?” As he said this, Liam was already pulling out his meal card. “You’re not allowed to go.” Mia seemed determined to argue with him, pulling Liam back. “This isn’t about money. Does she not have hands or feet? Why is she ordering you around? And what was that coaxing tone you used just now? Seriously, you’re both adults, that tone is so inappropriate. Shouldn’t she keep her distance?” “Babe, can we please stop arguing? What’s inappropriate about me buying my own sister lunch?” The dining hall was pretty loud; I could only catch snippets of their conversation. Within a few sentences, Mia turned and stormed off in a huff. “Mia—” Liam hurriedly stood up and said to me in a panic, “Chloe, Mia hasn’t fully recovered yet, I need to take her to get an IV drip. I can’t buy your food today. Use my card, get whatever you want.” Saying that, he shoved his meal card into my hand and chased after Mia’s retreating figure. 8 It was evident that Mia had some serious manipulation skills, or maybe it was because this was Liam’s first real relationship and he was incredibly lovesick. Either way, he was completely under her thumb. After I kicked Mia out, Liam followed right behind her. They rented an apartment together in a complex near campus. I don’t know if Mia did it to spite me, but they rented a place in the exact same building as our condo. Occasionally, I’d even run into Mia in the elevator. Mia seemed very satisfied with her achievement of successfully convincing my brother to move out with her. She smiled and said to me: “Maya, how does it feel knowing your own brother doesn’t even side with you? Liam would rather move out of that condo for me. Must feel pretty awful going home to an empty place, right? Oh, by the way, Liam paid for our new apartment all by himself. He even sold the shoes you gave him to make rent. You’re not mad, are you, sister?” Awful? I felt fantastic. “The only thing awful is that I didn’t kick you two out sooner. You have no idea the joy of living alone.” Mia’s expression changed: “You’re truly shameless. That condo was clearly bought for your brother by your dad. Stop pretending your family doesn’t favor sons over daughters. I’ve never seen a family that doesn’t. You’re just riding his coattails. I was the one who let you live there. Did you really think you could live there in peace?” Wow. She was calling my family’s condo “letting me live there.” Did she really think she was being understanding and generous?

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