Category: English

Marcus Thorne, the serial killer responsible for nineteen deaths, was finally caught. A reporter asked him, “Which victim left the deepest impression on you?” He remained silent for a long time, then suddenly chuckled. “The fifteenth one. I hadn’t intended to kill her.” “But someone paid two million dollars for her life. And that money, it came straight from her husband’s account.” “The person who hired me was his former student. That woman later married her husband, and she’s now pregnant.” As he spoke, eight hundred thousand viewers flooded the livestream. The comments section exploded. Meanwhile, my husband, Ethan Vance, a university professor of criminal psychology and a special consultant for the City Police Department, was completely oblivious. He sat in his office, on a FaceTime call with his new wife, seven months pregnant. On the screen, Seraphina Hayes was proudly showing off her baby bump, laboriously displaying a newly purchased crib. “Honey, don’t you think this color is beautiful?” Seraphina smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Anything you choose is beautiful.” Ethan’s voice was unbelievably gentle. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze full of affection. “Seraphina, don’t overdo it. I’ll put it together when I get home after work.” “But I want our baby to feel daddy’s presence sooner!” Seraphina pouted, her voice sickeningly sweet. I floated behind Ethan, quietly watching the scene unfold. I had been dead for three years. In these three years, I had watched Ethan go from anguish to numbness, then to a comfortable acceptance of Seraphina. He had even forgotten that three years ago today was the day I disappeared. The intercom on his desk suddenly rang. Ethan frowned, making a shushing gesture to Seraphina. “Professor Vance, Marcus specifically asked to see you.” Chief Miller’s voice on the other end sounded urgent. “He said he won’t reveal the location of the fifteenth body unless it’s to you.” Ethan’s expression instantly turned serious. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up, gave Seraphina a few hurried instructions, then grabbed his jacket and headed out. Seraphina seemed a little uneasy on the video call. “Honey, Marcus… is he the serial killer?” “Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” Ethan ended the call, his footsteps quick. I followed him into the interrogation room. In the dim room, Marcus sat on an iron chair, his face covered in stubble. Seeing Ethan enter, he flashed a strange smile. “Professor Vance, I’ve heard a lot about you.” “I watched your public lectures on criminal psychology. They were excellent.” Ethan didn’t look up. “Marcus, male, forty-one years old. From 2019 to 2024, operated in six states, committed nineteen cases—” “You don’t need to recite it.” The chains rattled. “I want to talk about the fifteenth one.” “Speak.” “Aren’t you curious why I asked for you specifically?” “Not at all. Criminals try to seize control by creating conversation during high-pressure interrogations. It’s basic psychological profiling. Doesn’t work on me.” Marcus suddenly burst into laughter, the chains clanking loudly. “Professor Vance, you’ve spent your life studying criminal psychology, yet you can’t even tell who your own partner truly is. How ironic.” Ethan closed the file, his eyes contemptuous. “That kind of juvenile psychological tactic won’t work on me.” “Oh really?” Marcus leaned closer, lowering his voice. “What if I told you the fifteenth person was named Elara Reed?” Ethan’s body instantly stiffened. His fingers clenched, knuckles turning white. “See? The moment I mentioned that name, you clearly lost your composure while going through those files.” “I haven’t changed at all.” Ethan closed the file, crossed his hands neatly on the table, and sat up straight. “She was consumed by jealousy, sensitive and overly suspicious.” “She’d complain when I didn’t answer my phone, complain when I came home late, complain when I was nice to my students.” “If we argued, she’d run off and wouldn’t come back unless I went to get her.” “A thirty-year-old acting like a child.” After saying all this, Ethan’s fingers tried to twist the cap onto his pen. It didn’t catch the first two times, only sealing on the third. “So the last time she left, I didn’t go looking. No need. I was tired, too. She could go wherever she wanted.” “What, did she run out of money? Does she want to come back?” “Tell me, how much did she pay you to play this game?” Marcus chuckled. “Professor Vance, I’m a killer, not a con artist. I buried her with my own hands.” “You’re making this up.” Ethan’s tone was resolute. “Your victims fit a fixed selection standard — living alone, remote location, high-risk profession.” “Elara Reed fits none of those criteria. You wouldn’t have chosen her.” I stood behind him, a sharp pain in my chest. Even though I no longer had a heart. But I still felt that heartbreaking sorrow. “To frame Seraphina, she actually managed to bribe you into saying all those things. She’s really gotten quite skilled.” He opened SnapChat and sent a voice message. “Elara, stop playing dead.” “I let it go when you spread rumors about Seraphina on the forum back then.” “Now that we’re finally happy, you’re trying to sicken me again. Is this your new trick?” “Even if a manipulative woman like you truly died, I’d only feel relieved.” I watched the voice message send successfully. Ethan, do you really think I’d joke about my own life with you? Marcus stopped laughing, his eyes softening with pity. “But Professor Vance, someone paid me two million dollars to kill her.” “A full two million, transferred from her husband’s bank account.” “Doesn’t that number sound familiar to you, Professor Vance?” The chair legs scraped across the floor with a harsh sound. Ethan stood up, his face dark. “The interrogation ends here.” “I have no interest in your nonsense.” “Go to Westwood.” Marcus suddenly spoke. “Under that old oak tree. You know the place.” Ethan’s footsteps halted. That was where we first met.

Ethan didn’t go home. He went straight from the interrogation room and called the Criminal Technology Division. “Marcus has confessed to a suspected burial site.” “Westwood Forest, by the oak trees.” “Deploy the tech team and forensic unit. Depart now.” His voice was all business, betraying no emotion. I floated behind him, watching him get into his car. He didn’t start the engine immediately. Instead, he pulled out his phone and opened the pinned chat. “Elara, what do you want?” “To think I actually believed you’d bribe a killer to put on this act with you.” “I don’t know if you’re crazy, or if I am…” The message sent successfully. He stared at the screen for a long time. Her profile picture was their wedding photo from three years ago, never changed. Just like his. I stood outside the car window, looking at that chat window. In three years, he had sent me over two hundred messages. I hadn’t replied to a single one. Not because I didn’t want to. But because I couldn’t. He took a deep breath and started the car. The convoy sped through the city in the dead of night, red and blue police lights flashing silently. Their destination was Westwood. I sat in the passenger seat, watching his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and his jaw clenched tight. I wanted to reach out and touch his face. But my hand passed right through his body. The cars drove onto the Westwood road, high beams illuminating the abandoned oak grove ahead. Ethan’s breathing hitched. He remembered Marcus’s last words. “You know the place.” He knew. Of course, he knew. Under that tree, he had kissed me, and he had also betrayed me. The convoy arrived at the oak grove. Several high-powered floodlights illuminated the old oak tree, making it look ghostly pale. Ethan stood outside the crime scene tape, hands in his pockets, his expression cold. Detective Dawson, his deputy, quietly asked, “Professor Vance, this… can it be true?” “If they dig and find nothing, I’ll personally interrogate Marcus and make him regret wasting my time.” Ethan’s tone even carried a hint of disdain. But I noticed that his position never strayed more than three steps from that tree. The tech team began to dig. He smoked cigarette after cigarette. He hadn’t smoked before. He only started after I disappeared. I remembered, when I was alive, he wouldn’t even touch a lighter. Half an hour later, a young Officer Kim shouted. “We found something!” Ethan’s shoulders tensed suddenly. Instead of moving closer, he actually took half a step back. From the mud, tweezers pulled out a broken metal watch strap. Then, a shattered watch face. The technician carefully flipped it over. On the back of the watch face, two letters were engraved. “E.R.” It was the twenty-fifth birthday gift he had given me. He had spent two hours picking it out at the counter, his hands trembling when they engraved the letters. Ethan’s pupils constricted violently. He turned his head away, not letting anyone see his expression. Without a word, he turned and walked to his car. He opened the door, got in, and closed it. Cutting off all outside sounds. I followed him into the car. His hands were on the steering wheel, all ten fingers trembling. “Impossible.” He mumbled to himself, his voice so faint that only I, a ghost, could hear it. Three seconds later. He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel. The harsh blare of the horn pierced the stillness of the desolate night. Then a second punch. A third. He stopped, gasping for air. A memory suddenly flashed through his mind. The night I disappeared three years ago, Seraphina Hayes came to him, her eyes red-rimmed. She carefully, casually mentioned. “Professor Vance, I think I saw Elara with a man getting into a car today…” “It might have been a mistake, but she seemed to be wearing that watch you gave her.” At the time, he believed her.

Ethan sat motionless in the car, his body rigid like a statue. I sat in the passenger seat, watching him. The tide of memories surged, without warning. Our first meeting was under that same old oak tree. I was crouching on the ground, searching for a rare book I’d bought from a used book stall. The wind was too strong, blowing the pages away. He walked past and stepped on the book. When he handed it to me, he adjusted his glasses, wearing a detached, academic air. “History major? I have the original edition of this book. You can come get it if you want.” Only later did I learn. For that casually delivered line, he had secretly borrowed the book from the university library three days in advance. His way of pursuing me was also precisely in line with “criminal psychology.” He knew I went to the library every day at three in the afternoon. So he would arrive at two fifty. He knew I liked the window seat. He would occupy the seat next to mine in advance. I later asked him, “How long did you follow me to know me so well?” He maintained a straight face and stubbornly said, “That’s called target subject behavior pattern analysis.” I laughed, my eyes crinkling. “I love sunflowers because they always face the sun.” He didn’t say anything then. Two months later, a vast field of golden flowers had bloomed on the barren land behind the university. He stood by the flower field, waiting for me, his face peeling from the sun. When he saw me, he turned his head away, his words still just as stubborn. “Just saw it passing by. Nothing to do with me.” The day he proposed. He rented out the entire top-floor restaurant and memorized his lines for three days. But the moment he stood before me, he forgot everything. Stuttering, his face bright red, he finally managed to blurt out: “Elara… let me… take care of you.” I smiled and said yes. Blushing, he put the ring on my finger. He put it on the wrong way. Then, fumbling, he took it off and put it on again. His hands trembled uncontrollably. I thought of the clumsy, stubborn Ethan from my memories, the one who was clearly terrified but insisted on acting nonchalant. A smile touched my lips, then slowly faded. The Ethan in my memories was so wonderful. So wonderful that I couldn’t understand how he had changed later. One day, in the second year of our marriage. The doorbell rang. Seraphina Hayes stood at the door, her hair in a ponytail, carrying a thick stack of research papers. She shyly said, “Professor Vance, I’m your new graduate student, Seraphina Hayes.” Her gaze swept past Ethan’s shoulder and landed on me. I still remember that look. It wasn’t shyness, nor was it admiration. It was an assessment. It was like she was examining something that belonged to someone else, calculating how to make it her own. From that day on, my marriage began to crack, little by little. And what I didn’t know then was this: The very night Seraphina first came to our house, she posted an update on her Ins. The accompanying picture was a corner of Ethan’s study. She wrote: “New semester, new beginning.” Someone in the comments asked, “Where is this?” She replied: “My future home.”

Seraphina frequently entered and exited Ethan’s study, using the excuse of “discussing research topics.” Sometimes I’d come home late from work and find her sitting in the living room, waiting for Ethan. I had reminded Ethan to be mindful of boundaries. He impatiently cut me off. “She’s just my student, can you stop being so suspicious?” “Why are you so neurotic all of a sudden?” I spent half a year compiling a collection of extremely valuable annotations for a rare historical manuscript. I planned to give it to Ethan as a surprise on his birthday. I knew he was writing a new textbook, and this material was the final piece he needed. However, on Ethan’s birthday. Seraphina Hayes got ahead of me, put her name on this material, and presented it to Ethan as a “research report.” Ethan was greatly surprised. In front of me, he praised Seraphina for “possessing rare academic talent.” I immediately pulled out my manuscript and confronted her. Seraphina’s eyes instantly welled up, her voice trembling. “Elara, I didn’t know you were working on this too…” “I just wanted to help the professor so badly…” “I’m sorry, it’s my fault…” As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. Ethan looked at his weeping student on one side and me, angry, on the other. He frowned and said something I remember to this day. Something I will never forget, even in death. “Elara, you’re regressing. You can’t even tolerate a student?” “How much effort did she put into organizing this material, and you just claim it as yours?” “Aren’t you ashamed of how jealous you are of her? Your jealousy has made you unrecognizable.” I froze, the hand holding my manuscript trembling. After that, I didn’t say another word. I placed the manuscript on the table, turned, walked into the bedroom, and packed a suitcase. Ethan stood in the doorway, watching me, his face livid. “If you leave, don’t come back.” “Every time we argue, you pull this ‘running away’ stunt. You’re thirty years old, isn’t it annoying?” I dragged my suitcase to the front door and looked back at him. I wanted to say so many things. In the end, I only managed. “You owe me an apology.” “Ethan, when you understand what you’ve done, then come find me.” He didn’t follow. I waited for half a month, but I never got his apology. What I got instead was a text message, sent by Seraphina pretending to be him. And that address led to an abandoned factory. My burial ground. When I came to, it was already dawn. Ethan hadn’t gone home; he had sat in his car all night. Suddenly, the car window was tapped forcefully by an Officer Kim. “Professor Vance! Detective Dawson!” His face was ecstatic, holding up a transparent evidence bag. “We found it! We found crucial evidence!”

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On my way home from work, a luxury car hit me, fracturing my arm. The driver then falsely accused me of trying to extort money. Halfway through my emergency surgery, the male driver forcefully dragged me to court. “Do you know how much the car My wife bought me cost? Five million! My wife is the best lawyer in the entire country; you’ll be bankrupt by the time this is over!” From the defendant’s stand, my vision kept blurring. The pain was beyond anything I had ever felt. The next second, a female lawyer rushed in, shielding the man behind her: “Your Honor, my husband would never intentionally hit someone. This must be an attempt at fraud, and it deserves severe punishment.” Watching that familiar back, the blood in my veins turned to ice. The elite lawyer, impeccably dressed in a suit, was none other than Lester, my wife, who had told me she was on a business trip in Europe. With her soothing words, the man, Cedric, looked even more aggrieved as he pointed behind her. “It’s him! He got blood all over the new car you gave me. It’s disgusting!” Lester turned her head in the direction he pointed. One glance, and the anger in her eyes turned to shock. But three seconds later, she quickly composed herself, her expression so cold it made her a stranger to me. “I am Mr. Cedric’s defense attorney. Please direct all your questions to me.” My wife, with whom I had shared a bed for five years, was suddenly speaking with such detachment. All my questions instantly choked in my throat, leaving me unable to breathe. A while ago, she called to say her company had transferred her to a neighboring city for a business trip, with a doubled salary. My calls often went unanswered, and my messages unreturned. Even when I was sick, I went to the hospital alone, running up and down the floors five or six times. It turned out she was building a family with another man. The thought sent a sharp pang through my wound, and I couldn’t help but hunch over. Lester finally noticed my horrific injury. “This is…” Cedric abruptly cut her off. “Anyway, a good-for-nothing like him wouldn’t be affected by a broken arm.” “But my car cost five million, Lester. He has to pay for the damages!” I clenched my fists, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs. Lester had told me her family was deep in debt and had lost everything, and that I’d have to make sacrifices for a while. I had been frugal, and the thought of having children in the future made me so anxious I relied on medication to cope. Now, it seemed my efforts were nothing short of a clown act compared to that five-million-dollar luxury car. “Lester, I want him to compensate me and apologize.” The man confidently wrapped his arm around Lester’s waist. And I stood by, my heart in my throat. Lester looked conflicted, as if she wanted to stop him, but seeing his insistence, she forced a doting yet helpless smile. Lester looked at me, her eyes filled with a warning. “Just apologize.” I froze, my limbs turning cold. I had lost an arm, yet she was telling me to apologize to the person who had maimed me. At the judge’s urging, I stiffly bowed. “Mr. Cedric, I’m sorry.” The man ignored me, instead affectionately wrapping his arm around Lester’s slender waist. “You couldn’t pay for the car repairs even if you gave your life. Three hundred thousand. Consider it a lesson learned.” Hearing the exorbitant sum, my heart froze completely. Lester watched him dotingly, not sparing me another glance. She seemed to have forgotten that I once sold off all my assets to gather medical funds for my mother, and even then, I couldn’t come up with three hundred thousand. Clutching the fine, I walked out of the courtroom alone. It wasn’t until a Maybach sped past me that I snapped back to reality. A SnapChat message popped up from Lester: “We’ll talk properly when I get home. Don’t let him find out.” Tears silently streamed down my face. The endless nights working overtime until dawn, the five years of tirelessly nurturing our home, had all become a cruel joke.

As I entered the hallway, I saw movers carelessly throwing my luggage out. I rushed forward to stop them. “What are you doing? Stop it!” Just then, Lester, dressed in a haute couture suit, calmly walked out of the house. “You should move out for a while. It’s for your own good.” I trembled, my voice hoarse. “Was five years of lying not enough? Are you trying to drive me to ruin? Do you have a heart at all?!” Lester briefly closed her eyes, exhaling helplessly. “Can you stop making a scene?” “Cedric and I are bound by a family arrangement. I hid you away for your own good, you understand, right?” “As for this entire building, I actually bought it for Cedric, but now that he knows about you, you’ll eventually be discovered if you stay here.” My eyes blurred with tears, but her words became even clearer. Every word pierced my heart, leaving me raw and bleeding. The house that held five years of beautiful memories had never truly been mine. As she left, Lester tossed a set of keys at me. “My assistant will take you. You can stay in the suburbs for now. Don’t be difficult.” Watching her retreating figure, I picked up the keys and powerlessly threw them at her. I never imagined my wife, my partner through thick and thin, could become so hateful. Lester’s assistant took me to a lavish villa. The moment I stepped inside, the assistant locked the door behind me. My eyes landed on a huge family photo of three people. Lester and Cedric were smiling brightly, holding a three-year-old child. No wonder every time I brought up having children, she would look resistant and quickly change the subject. It turned out she already had a son. Seeing the date on the photo, my heart sank to rock bottom. That day, my father had died of a sudden heart attack, and I desperately called Lester from the hospital corridor. I cried until my voice was hoarse, but her tone was dismissive. “I’m sorry, my boss sent me on another business trip. I won’t be home for another week.” She hung up quickly, without even a proper word of condolence. It turned out that while I was at my most heartbroken, she was taking family photos with Cedric and their child. I uncontrollably smashed the photo frame and knelt on the floor, weeping silently. After my tears dried, I pulled out my phone to contact a lawyer. “Please draft a divorce agreement for me.” I stared at it self-torturingly for a long time before realizing that fresh blood was gushing from my unhealed wound. I instinctively dialed Lester’s number. The first call was hung up; the second went straight to voicemail. The pain was so intense I passed out. Just then, two or three bodyguards burst in, forcibly dragging me into a car. The car sped all the way to the hospital. In the ward, they tied me up. Until an alarming needle appeared before my eyes, I struggled desperately. “What do you want from me?!” The next second, Lester’s fierce face entered my vision. “I warned you not to upset Cedric, but you insisted on taking risks.” “Now Cedric knows about you and just tried to slit his wrists. I know you have a rare blood type. We need to draw your blood to save him immediately!”

“Doctor, do it now!” I barely managed to open my eyes, only to see her face was deathly pale, her lips trembling as she spoke. I had never seen her so frantic. Before I could struggle, a thick needle pierced my vein, and pain spread from my arm to my entire body. Due to excessive blood loss, I quickly lost consciousness. I don’t know how long passed, but I woke up to a sharp, severe pain in my lower body. “What… what happened to me?” Seeing the bloody mess below me, a terrible premonition crept into my heart. After my persistent questioning, the doctor finally spoke with difficulty. “Mr. Cedric was very angry after learning about your identity and insisted you undergo a vasectomy. Ms. Lester signed the consent form.” In that instant, I felt the world spin. Simply because of a petulant remark from Cedric, Lester would go to such an extreme. I violently vomited a mouthful of blood. Just then, my phone vibrated frantically. I opened it and saw an overwhelming torrent of insults. “Rub yourself with steel wool if you’re so desperate. Is another man’s wife really that great?” “These days, affairs are so blatant. Just a few days ago, he was trying to extort money!” Words like “homewrecker” and “scum” flashed across the screen. I couldn’t believe it. I was Lester’s legally recognized husband. Why should I bear such infamy? I painfully posted my marriage certificate online, detailing the timeline of my relationship with Lester. To my surprise, someone online circled the seal on my marriage certificate. “This is clearly fake! What a cunning homewrecker!” I was too shocked to speak, zooming in to confirm. The next second, Cedric publicly posted hismarriage certificate online, specifically highlighting its embossed seal. At the same time, Lester called. My question blurted out. “Lester, is his marriage certificate the real one?” Back then, my mother was gravely ill, and her greatest wish was to see us get married. We went to City Hall together. She held my hand, solemnly swore, and promised to be with me for life. Now, she cruelly said: “I have to give him an explanation. I can’t just let him follow me without any status.” “You’re different. You’ll stay by my side no matter what. Let’s not dwell on these things right now.” From her end, I heard the sound of things being smashed. “Cedric is very unstable right now. Quickly apologize to him and admit you’re the homewrecker.” Hearing those words, I was so shocked I was almost breathless. “I’m the one who’s been deceived for five years! Why do you think I would apologize?!” Lester suddenly sneered on the phone. “Because your mother is barely alive thanks to my money and medical resources. Think about it!” The call ended, and I collapsed powerlessly beside the bed. My mother’s illness had recurred repeatedly, with each hospital visit costing tens of thousands. Lester had covered all her medical expenses, even making time to visit her at the hospital, no matter how busy she was. “Ethan, don’t stress too much. Your mother will get better.” But now, she was using my only living relative to threaten me. With injuries all over my body, I checked out of the hospital and desperately searched for work. When people saw me, they furiously threw trash and vegetable scraps at me. “Who would hire someone so morally corrupt? Get out!” “He’s promiscuous! Who knows what dirty diseases he might have!” I had become a rat scurrying across the street, despised by everyone. The news reached my mother’s ears. She called me, her voice weak. “Don’t beg her for my sake again…” The piercing sound of medical equipment grated on my nerves. I held back my tears. “Mom, don’t worry about me. I have to go now!” Finally, I found Lester. Seeing my compromise, the woman smiled with satisfaction and handed me a written statement. “After you confess to being the homewrecker live, I’ll compensate you.” As soon as she finished speaking, reporters aimed their cameras at me, frantically snapping photos. I couldn’t believe it. “How is this any different from a public execution?!” Lester’s voice suddenly dropped very low, gentle yet cruel enough. “If you don’t want to go live, that’s fine. Then go admit to your mother that you’re the homewrecker. Didn’t she always hate homewreckers the most?”

In an instant, my heart clenched violently. She knew full well that my mother’s illness had stemmed from finding out about my father’s affair. If she knew my “identity” now, it would be tantamount to killing her! My mother was the only family I had left in this world. I couldn’t stand by and watch her die. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat, shuffled my steps, and knelt before Cedric for the cameras. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cedric. I ruined your family. I am shameless.” “I… am… sorry.” I felt like a dog with no dignity. After it was over, I looked up, glaring at Cedric’s smug face, then at Lester. “Is this apology… sufficient?” Lester’s chest visibly rose and fell. She cleared her throat and tossed a bank card at my feet. “Three million should be enough. Take it to save your mother.” I snatched the bank card and raced to the hospital. Seeing my mother’s pale face on the bed, I trembled like a leaf. I frantically handed the bank card to the doctor. “Doctor, please, you have to save her!” A few minutes later, the doctor returned with the bank card. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve tried several times, and it’s not working. This card has been frozen.” I didn’t have time to think. I pinned my hopes on the gold ring on my wrist. “This ring must be worth a lot. It’s pure gold!” But the doctor just glanced at it and looked at me with pity. “Sir, you’ve been scammed, haven’t you? This is clearly fake.” The crisp sound of the ring hitting the floor struck my heart. Three months ago, for my birthday, Lester had bought me this ring after I pestered her. Even after publicly admitting I was a homewrecker, I hadn’t brought myself to sell it for my mother’s medical expenses. It turned out that in Lester’s eyes, I was utterly worthless. The next second, the monitoring equipment emitted a piercing alarm. My mother closed her eyes, and my grief-stricken cries spread from between my teeth. I held the urn, my expression numb, and walked toward the rooftop. A SnapChat message popped up from Lester: [Sorry, I’m at the hospital with Cedric for his IV. I’ll go see Mom once he falls asleep and tell her not to worry.] [I’ve bought you a new house. You can tell me anything you want.] [Cedric said he can compromise. I’ll make more time for you in the future.] I didn’t reply. The cold wind on the hospital rooftop ruffled my hair as I took step after step toward the edge. “Lester, there’s truly no future for us anymore.” With those words, I smiled and jumped from the hospital rooftop. At the same time, inside a hospital room. Lester inadvertently looked out the window. Just a glance, and her pupils suddenly constricted.

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Three years into our marriage, I thought Ethan was just naturally cold and incapable of love. Then I saw the texts he sent his first love: “Fall for her? No way. She’s just a stand-in for you.” “Baby, when you come back, we’ll get married right away.” Turns out, he wasn’t incapable of love; he just wasn’t in love with me. I signed the divorce papers and left with nothing, but he went crazy, searching the whole world for me. Too bad, Ethan. Your belated affection is just too cheap. Chloe POV “Leo, I’m getting a divorce.” I stood by the master bedroom’s floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the glittering New York skyline, my voice so calm it even surprised me. On the other end of the line, my brother Leo was silent for a full five seconds before letting out a cold laugh. “You’re finally willing to give up on Ethan?” I forced a smile, my eyes dry, unable to squeeze out a single tear. “Yeah, I tried for so long, but I couldn’t make him love me.” “I told you before, Ethan has no heart. You just had to be with him,” Leo’s voice held concern, though he tried to sound casual. “Come to Paris. It has everything. French men are romantic and devoted; aren’t they all better than that guy? You’re so amazing, why waste your time on someone from the Sterling family?” “Mmm, I’ll come once the papers are done.” Hanging up, I turned, my gaze falling on the black backup phone on the vanity. It was Ethan’s phone. Half an hour ago, he went to shower, and the phone vibrated, sliding onto the carpet. When I picked it up, the screen was lit, showing an un-saved text message: 【Ethan, my flight home is tomorrow.】 On an impulse, I typed in Ethan’s lock screen password. It wasn’t his birthday, nor mine. It was a regular day from six years ago. The password was correct. Opening the chat history for that number, I saw the most frequent, most affectionate Ethan I’d ever seen in my life. 【It snowed in New York today. Is it cold where you are?】 【I’ve secured all of Sterling Corp’s shares. The board can no longer interfere with my decisions.】 【She’s been docile, a perfectly acceptable ornament. But once this period is over, my wife’s position will still be yours.】 【Ivy, I miss you so much.】 Every word was like a poisoned dagger, piercing my heart, twisting the flesh to shreds. Ivy. Ethan’s first love, the woman forced to leave the country because his grandfather had blocked their relationship. I’d always thought Ethan was naturally cold, a workaholic machine. In three years of marriage, he’d given me endless material comfort. A black card with no limit, haute couture on demand. If anyone in the New York elite dared to cross me, Ethan would ensure their family was ruined by morning. Everyone said, Mr. Sterling loved me very much. I used to believe it too. Until today, I finally understood that kind of love was just compensation, an empty gesture, like feeding a prized pet. He reserved all his patience, tenderness, and scheming for another woman. And I? I was merely a “decoration” he used to consolidate his power and protect the woman he truly loved. The sound of the shower stopped. Ethan walked out in a black bathrobe, water droplets still clinging to his chiseled jawline, tracing paths down to his firm chest. He glanced at me, standing by the vanity, his gaze as deep and unreadable as ever. “Why aren’t you in bed yet?” He walked to the bedside, casually picking up a watch to wipe it. I looked at Ethan, at this face I’d loved for five whole years. I pursued him for two, and married him for three. I reined in all my temper, learning to be a gentle and agreeable wife, just to be closer to him. “Ethan,” I spoke, my voice a little hoarse. He paused, looking up at me. “What do you want? That art gallery space downtown? I’ll have my assistant send you the transfer papers tomorrow.” See, that was his way. Whenever my mood was off, he’d just throw money at me. Simple, crude, effective. “No need.” I smiled, walking over and handing him the black phone. “Your phone fell earlier.” Ethan’s pupils constricted for a split second. I caught it. He took the phone, his knuckles slightly white, his voice steady. “You looked through it?” “No,” I lied. I didn’t want to be hysterical, didn’t want to question him like a lunatic. If I was a decoration, I should act like one. Ethan gave me a long, hard look, then tossed the phone into the drawer. “Get some rest early. I have an important meeting tomorrow; I won’t be back for dinner.” “Okay.” I turned my back to him and lay down. In the darkness, I lay with my eyes open, listening to the steady breathing of the man beside me. The last flicker of hope in my heart was extinguished completely.

Chloe POV The next afternoon, I drove to the law firm. “Miss Hayes, are you sure you want to draft these divorce papers?” My acquaintance, Mr. Davidson, looked at me, full of disbelief. “Your marriage to Mr. Sterling… the outside world has always been very optimistic about it.” “I’m sure. The sooner, the better.” I sat on the sofa, stirring my coffee. “Regarding assets, I don’t want anything. I’m leaving with nothing, as long as he signs.” Mr. Davidson sighed, starting to take notes. “Alright, I’ll expedite it.” Emerging from the law firm, the sky had already darkened. The evening breeze in New York carried a hint of chill. Instead of going home, I drove to The Velvet Lounge. In three years of marriage, I hadn’t stepped foot in a place like this. Ethan didn’t like the smell of smoke or alcohol, didn’t like me dressing too provocatively, didn’t like me hanging out with those friends. So I’d thrown out all my sultry dresses and replaced them with elegant suits. Today, I wore a deep V-neck, wine-red slip dress, ten-centimeter heels, and aggressive, heavy makeup as I pushed open the bar’s door. The deafening music instantly enveloped me. I walked to the bar and ordered the strongest drink. “Well, well, isn’t it Chloe? Long time no see.” My best friend, Sophia, came over with her drink, scrutinizing me, her eyes lighting up. “You look amazing today! So beautiful! Ethan actually let you out?” “Don’t even mention him.” I tilted my head back, downing the drink in one gulp. The burning liquid traveled down my throat to my stomach, forcing out tears from the corners of my eyes. I slid onto the dance floor, twisting my body wildly to the music. The men around me swarmed like sharks scenting blood. I didn’t refuse; I smiled, dancing intimately with them, savoring the long-lost feeling of abandon and freedom. Upstairs, in the VIP section on the second floor. I only found out later that Ethan was up there, watching my every move. On the dance floor, I grew tired, pushed away the men around me, and stumbled towards the restroom. As I reached the corner of the corridor, my wrist was suddenly grabbed. A strong force pulled me into a dim private room, and then I was slammed against the cold wall. “Ethan, isn’t this Chloe?” Liam, standing nearby, widened his eyes. “Chloe’s outfit is really hot! Those guys were practically glued to her. Aren’t you going to do something, Ethan?” Ethan glanced at him, then expressionlessly averted his gaze, his voice icy. “I trust her.” “Ethan! You’re really letting your guard down.” Liam sighed. “Still, Chloe looks stunning today, like a completely different person. I always thought you were too demure, never knew you had this side to you.” Ethan turned to face me, his body leaning in. The familiar scent of fir trees wafted over me. “Had enough fun?” Ethan’s voice, laced with suppressed anger, sounded above me. I looked up, seeing the man’s handsome face in the faint light filtering from the corridor. I suddenly laughed, a terribly cheerful laugh, and hooked my arm around his neck. “Mr. Sterling, what’s wrong? Only you get to come here? I can’t?” Ethan’s brows furrowed tightly. He inhaled in distaste, smelling the alcohol and cheap perfume on me. “Come home with me.” “Home? Which home?” I leaned closer, my warm breath fanning his Adam’s apple. “The gilded cage you built for me, or the spot you’re saving for someone else in your heart?” Ethan’s body stiffened, his eyes instantly turning sharp. “You’re drunk.” “I’m not drunk.” I pushed him away abruptly, the smile vanishing from my face, leaving only cold indifference. “Ethan, don’t touch me. You make me sick.” With that, I walked out of the private room without looking back.

Chloe POV Ivy was back. I didn’t hear this news from Ethan; I saw it on Twitter. SterlingCorpCEOspottedatairportlateatnight,mysteriouswomanallegedlymistress The photos were blurry, but I recognized that tall back instantly. Ethan had draped a large suit jacket over the petite woman, his head bowed as he shielded her into the car. The gesture showed a tenderness and carefulness I had never seen before. Today was our third wedding anniversary. I sat in the empty restaurant, looking at the cold steak on the table and the nearly burned-out candle, and suddenly found it all a bit laughable. I picked up my phone and dialed Ethan’s number. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. The background was quiet, with only the occasional beep of medical equipment. “Something wrong?” Ethan’s voice was low. “Where are you?” I asked. “Working late at the office. An urgent project to handle.” He lied, his voice steady. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Ethan, today is our wedding anniversary.” Silence on the other end for two seconds. “Sorry, I forgot. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Buy whatever you want, just use my card.” “No need,” I said softly. “You must be busy.” Hanging up, I called the waiter for the check. I didn’t go home. Instead, I drove to an upscale downtown apartment complex. It was one of the properties Ethan owned. I parked the car by the roadside, quietly watching the apartment building. Half an hour later, Ethan’s car pulled up. He got out, walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and carefully helped a pale woman out. Ivy. She looked very weak, leaning into Ethan’s embrace. Ethan’s head was bowed, whispering something to her, his eyes full of tenderness. He even bent down to straighten the hem of her skirt, which had been ruffled by the wind. I sat in my car, a street away, watching the scene unfold. I didn’t cry, nor did I rush over to cause a scene. I just watched quietly, as if observing a movie unrelated to me. So, he wasn’t incapable of love; he just didn’t love me. He could drop a billion-dollar project to pick up Ivy from the airport, stay with her at the hospital until midnight, and bend his proud waist for her. And all I got was a dismissive, “Just use my card.” I started the car, turning around to leave. In the rearview mirror, the embracing figures grew smaller and smaller, until they completely disappeared into the night. Back at the mansion, I started packing. I didn’t take anything Ethan had bought me. All those designer bags, haute couture dresses, and expensive jewelry, I left them all in the walk-in closet. I only packed a few old clothes I’d brought before the marriage and the laptop that had been with me for years. My suitcase was empty, just like my three years of marriage. Aside from countless scars, nothing remained. The next morning, Mr. Davidson delivered the drafted divorce papers. I didn’t even glance at them, signing my name on the last page without hesitation. “Miss Hayes, are you truly not going to reconsider?” Mr. Davidson looked at my calm face, unable to help but ask. “No need,” I said, putting the papers into a folder. “Please deliver this to Ethan for me. Tell him I don’t want anything, just his signature.”

Ethan POV I’ve been extremely busy these past few days. Ivy wasn’t well. She’d just returned to the country and hadn’t adjusted, her old illness flaring up, landing her back in the hospital. I spent my days at the office dealing with mountains of paperwork, and my nights at the hospital caring for her. Ivy was always delicate. She’d frown if the IV drip was too slow, or pout if the medicine was bitter. Though I was exhausted, I had to patiently coax her, given her frail health. For three consecutive days, I didn’t return to the mansion. I expected Chloe to call me frantically, text me, demanding to know where I was, just like before. But to my surprise, my phone was eerily silent. No calls, no messages, not even a routine “Good morning.” At first, I didn’t pay much attention. Work was too overwhelming, and I couldn’t leave Ivy’s side. I even felt a subtle sense of relief – Chloe not making a fuss saved me a lot of trouble. She had probably finally learned to be sensible, to give me space, no longer clinging to me like a piece of gum. But her continued silence… it made me a little uneasy. I sat behind my desk, frowning at my still phone screen. “Mr. Sterling, these are the transfer papers for the downtown art gallery you requested.” Mark, my assistant, knocked and entered, placing a document on my desk. “Regarding Miss Hayes…” “Send them to her.” I rubbed my forehead. “Tell her I’m busy these days, but I’ll take her to a fashion show in Paris in a few days.” Mark hesitated for a moment before saying, “Mr. Sterling, Miss Hayes… isn’t home. The mansion staff said she left three days ago with a suitcase.” I shot up from my seat. “Left? Where did she go?” “I don’t know. She didn’t take anything, just a small suitcase.” My heart sank instantly, a sudden, inexplicable panic gripping me. I grabbed my car keys and stormed out of the office. I sped all the way back to the mansion. Pushing open the door, the house was eerily silent. No sign of Chloe bustling in the kitchen, no sound of her voice, not even a faint trace of her usual perfume in the air. I rushed upstairs, pushing open the master bedroom door. The bed was neatly made. In the walk-in closet, all the clothes and bags I’d bought her were quietly arranged. On the vanity, there was a brown paper envelope. I walked over and picked it up. Inside, was a Divorce Agreement. Her name was clearly written in the signature space for the wife. I stared at her name. Then, I violently tore the agreement into shreds, throwing them forcefully onto the floor. “Chloe, you’ve got guts!” I roared. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently switched off…” The cold, mechanical female voice echoed in the empty room. I slammed the phone against the wall, and the screen instantly shattered. I thought she was just throwing a tantrum, that she just wanted more attention. I never imagined she would actually leave. Chloe loved me so much, loved me to the point of sacrificing her dignity. How could she bear to leave me? “Find her! Get her out here!” I yelled at Mark, who had rushed in. “Even if you have to use every resource, find her!”

Chloe POV I didn’t leave the country; I moved into a small apartment on the outskirts of New York. It was a place I’d bought in college, small, only fifty square meters, but quiet enough. I changed my phone number, severing all ties with my past. Every day, besides painting, I’d go downstairs to buy groceries. Life was simple, yet it had a peace I’d never experienced before. A week later, I received a call from Leo. “Chloe, Ethan has gone insane,” Leo’s voice held a hint of amusement. “He’s been looking for you non-stop. Sterling Corp’s stock has been crashing disastrously these past few days. He’s not even attending board meetings, just wandering around like a madman.” My hand, holding the paintbrush, paused slightly, then resumed its normal movement. “Everything about him is irrelevant to me. I’ve already signed; his search is useless.” “You’ve truly let go?” Leo asked. “I’ve let go.” I looked at the gray, desolate ocean on the canvas, my voice as light as a breeze. “I don’t love him anymore.” After hanging up, I walked to the window, looking down at the bustling street. I expected to be in pain, to suffer from insomnia. But strangely, I slept wonderfully. Without the agony of waiting, without the torment of fearing loss, my heart was completely empty. In the afternoon, I went grocery shopping. As I stepped out of the apartment building, a sleek black Maybach suddenly pulled up in front of me. The car door opened, and Ethan emerged. He had lost a lot of weight, his eyes were bloodshot, and a shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. He looked utterly wasted and agitated. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up fiercely, like a dying man spotting an oasis in the desert. He strode over, pulling me tightly into his embrace. “Chloe, I finally found you…” His voice was terribly hoarse, with a hint of an almost imperceptible tremble. I was squeezed so tightly I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t struggle, just spoke coldly. “Let go of me.” Ethan’s body stiffened. He slowly released me, looking down at me. My gaze was calm, as if I were looking at a stranger. No love, no hate, nothing at all. “Come home with me.” He reached out to take my hand, his voice holding a hint of almost pleading desperation. “Stop this, okay? I’ll give you whatever you want. Let’s go home.” I avoided his hand, stepping back. “Ethan, you must have seen the agreement.” I looked at him, my voice flat. “Sign it. It’s better for everyone.” “I won’t sign!” Ethan’s voice suddenly rose, a hint of madness flashing in his eyes. “Chloe, you’ll always belong to me! There’s no way you’re getting a divorce!” I looked at Ethan, so hysterical, and suddenly felt a bit pathetic. “Ethan, what exactly are you so angry about?” I forced a cynical smile. “Your pretty little ornament isn’t playing nice anymore, and you don’t like it? Or perhaps I didn’t obediently vacate my position for your Ivy?” Ethan’s face instantly went pale. “You… you knew?” “Yes, I knew.” I looked at Ethan’s suddenly bloodless face. I felt no sense of satisfaction or revenge, only a profound weariness. “That backup phone, those texts, I saw everything.” My voice was soft. “Ethan, you disgust me.” Ethan’s breathing grew ragged. He stepped forward, trying to grab my shoulders. “Chloe, listen to me, things aren’t what you think…” “Aren’t what?” I cut him off, my eyes cold. “Were you not marrying me to protect Ivy, using me as a mere decoration? Were you not leveraging my family’s influence to consolidate your power? Or did you not throw me aside like garbage the very day Ivy returned?” Ethan opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Because everything I said was true. He married me back then because his grandfather was pressuring him, and my family background was good. Plus, I loved him so much, making me the perfect candidate. What, is he coming to me now because he regrets it? “Chloe, I admit I did use you at first.” Ethan’s voice trembled slightly. “But later… later I really was…” “Really what?” I sneered. “Really got used to having someone circle around you like a loyal dog? Ethan, save your ‘deep affection’ act for your Ivy. I find it filthy.” With that, I turned and walked away. “Chloe!” Ethan abruptly embraced me from behind, his arms clamping tightly around my waist, as if trying to merge me into his own body. “I won’t divorce! I’d rather die than divorce! You won’t leave me!” I forcefully pried open his fingers, one by one, resolute and unfeeling. “Ethan, don’t make me hate you.” I broke free from his embrace and walked into the apartment complex without looking back. In the following days, Ethan acted like a madman, waiting downstairs by my apartment building every day. He didn’t dare to disturb me, only sitting in his car, chain-smoking. He sent me messages on his phone, telling me he had broken off things with Ivy. He said he couldn’t lose me. I looked at the messages on my phone coldly, my heart completely unmoved. Whatever he wanted to do was irrelevant to me.

Chloe POV Ethan didn’t give up. It seemed he’d poured all his energy into winning me back. He bought me my favorite art gallery, presenting me with the property deed; he canceled all his engagements, showing up promptly downstairs at my apartment every day, bringing me my favorite pastries from that downtown bakery. But my reaction remained as cold as ice. The gallery deed was returned untouched; the pastries were directly tossed into the trash. “Ethan, what’s the point of all this?” I stood by the trash can, looking at Ethan. “What were you doing before? Now you’re putting on an act of loving me, it just makes me laugh.” Ethan looked at the scattered pastries in the trash can, a flicker of pain in his eyes. “Chloe, I know I did a lot of wrong things before,” he pleaded humbly. “Please, give me one chance to make it up to you, okay?” “Make it up?” I laughed. “Alright, then sign the divorce papers right now. That would be the best compensation for me.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. He gritted his teeth, firmly saying, “Anything but divorce.” We were at a standstill. Until half a month later, I received a call. It was Ivy. “Chloe, let’s meet,” Ivy’s voice carried a hint of triumph. “Regarding Ethan, I think we need to talk.” I didn’t intend to respond, but I changed my mind. Maybe this was a chance to finally get rid of Ethan. We met at a secluded private coffee shop. Ivy wore a white dress, looking very gentle, but her eyes were full of provocation. “Chloe, don’t think that just because Ethan is clinging to you now, he truly loves you,” Ivy sipped her coffee slowly. “He’s just not over it. After all, you chased him like a loyal dog for so many years, and suddenly you’re ignoring him. It’s just a man’s possessiveness kicking in.” I looked at Ivy expressionlessly. “Are you done? If so, I’m leaving.” “Wait!” Ivy pulled out a document and pushed it towards me. “This is the deed for the mansion Ethan just bought me yesterday. He said it was compensation for me.” I glanced at the property deed, my heart completely unmoved. “Congratulations then,” I stood up. “I hope you two stay together forever. You two deserve each other—a scheming witch and a blind fool. Everyone loves a good show.” Ivy’s face changed. She suddenly stood up, picking up the coffee cup on the table and splashing it towards me. I dodged sideways, the coffee splashing on the hem of my skirt. Just then, the private room door was violently pushed open. Ethan strode in, pulling me behind him, glaring darkly at Ivy. “What are you doing?!” Ivy instantly put on a wronged expression, tears streaming down her face. “Ethan, I just wanted to explain things clearly to Chloe, but she not only insulted me, she also tried to hit me…” Ethan didn’t even look at her, nervously checking my clothes. “Are you hurt?” I coldly pushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” I looked at Ethan, my eyes full of mockery. “Mr. Sterling, you certainly have a way. Clinging to me, refusing to divorce, while buying mansions for your mistress. Do you want to have your cake and eat it too?” Ethan’s face went pale. He quickly tried to explain, “Chloe, listen to me, that mansion is…” “Enough!” I cut him off. “Ethan, I came here today to tell you that I’ve filed for divorce in court. We’ll see each other there.”

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I ran into my husband Howard’s mistress, Scarlett, at my prenatal appointment for our second child. I was expressionless, but she looked absolutely terrified. Scarlett was overthinking it, though. Howard had three or four mistresses before her, and she wouldn’t be the last. If I got mad every time, I’d probably die young. But when I got home, Howard was the one who confronted me. He demanded: “I told you, everything Howard’s family owns will be for you and the kids. Don’t go looking for trouble with Scarlett. Why don’t you ever listen?” I lowered my head, clutching my belly, and didn’t argue back. Howard smashed some furniture and threw a huge tantrum. Then he packed his bags and left for Scarlett’s place. My housekeeper asked, “What are we going to do now?” I picked up my phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to my mother-in-law, Rosalind. “Look at this mess…” I typed. Soon after, a nine-figure compensation hit my account. Actually, in the beginning, when Howard first cheated, Rosalind didn’t have to step in with money. I’d fight with him constantly, cursing him out right to his face, reminding him we were each other’s first loves. We’d only been married ten years; how could he have changed so much? When did I stop fighting? It was around the time Scarlett first appeared. She wore a white dress, sweet and demure. Just standing there, she was strikingly similar to me. Then I saw Howard with his arm around her, attending parties where everyone knew us. In that moment, I didn’t even have the energy to be angry. All I could think was, Maybe I should just divorce him. Rosalind was the one who talked me out of it. She said even though she didn’t particularly like me, I came from a good family, and our backgrounds were perfectly matched. Besides, ever since my mom died, my stepmother had been running our house. A divorce would just give her more to gloat about. Howard might be terrible in relationships, but he was good at making money. His stock dividends alone brought in a nine-figure sum every year. Divorce would mean breaking up the assets. Bad for Howard Group, worse for me. “So, a woman should be realistic,” she advised, “not just filled with dreams of love.” My stubborn brain couldn’t grasp it. I bottled it up for over half a year and ended up with depression. After catching a high fever from being out in the rain, something clicked. From then on, I started listening to Rosalind and adjusted my perspective on Howard. She also promised me that if Howard ever hurt me again, she’d compensate me accordingly. So, this time, I was inexplicably blamed and got a nine-figure payout. I transferred the money to my investment account, then went to the bathroom to wash up, calling for the butler to find someone to clean the living room. When I came out, I found my son, Marcus, was home. He ignored the mess in the house, his eyes fixed on his homework. I held my lower back as I walked downstairs. “Marcus, you’re back.” He barely glanced up at me. “Yes, Mom,” he said, politely yet distantly, just like his dad. I didn’t say anything else, just made myself a cup of milk and prepared to go upstairs. Marcus spoke up. “Mom, there’s a parent-teacher conference tomorrow. Do you have time to go?” “I’m pregnant, so it’s not convenient,” I replied. “Ask your dad to arrange someone.” The person Howard arranged would only be his personal secretary. Sure enough, the next morning, Scarlett, heavily pregnant, showed up at my doorstep. She flinched but tried to hold her ground when she saw me. “Mrs. Howard.” “Mm-hmm,” I acknowledged. “Scarlett, thanks for helping out.” Scarlett offered an awkward smile. “Of course, Mrs. Howard, don’t worry. I’ve been many times.” I knew, actually. I knew all of this ever since Scarlett and Howard got together. But I was too lazy to ask, too lazy to listen. I wanted to go to the yoga studio to stretch. Marcus walked past me, looking unusually hesitant. “Mom. Why don’t you come with me? Scarlett is pregnant, and she can go.” I looked at him calmly. “Because I’m delicate, and I don’t want to deal with the hassle. Besides, you’re the one who said Scarlett is gentle and kind, and you prefer her to accompany you to parent-teacher conferences. So, your mom just wants you to be happy.” Marcus’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He watched my retreating back, and his eyes darkened.

I stayed home, resting and nurturing my pregnancy. The doctor said it was twins, likely girls, and I needed to take good care of myself. I ordered a year’s supply of luxury prenatal supplements and bought a few new maternity outfits. After a beauty treatment, I made plans to have lunch with my best friend, Emily. At the restaurant, her eyes were a little red as she looked at me. “Joshua, we haven’t seen each other since you were sick last time.” I looked at her calmly. “Yeah, it’s been about half a year, hasn’t it?” That illness kept coming back, bothering me until recently. Emily asked, “You and Howard?” “We’re fine. He’s good to me.” “Good to you?” She looked like she wanted to say more. “I heard he’s even bringing her to parties now.” I smiled. “But Rosalind gave me a nine-figure compensation.” “…That’s pretty good, I guess.” “Emily, I actually think I’ve been wrong all along. When I married Howard, I shouldn’t have only thought about love.” Emily’s expression was odd. “You two knew each other since middle school, got together in high school. You were madly in love back then, got married and stayed together. Isn’t that normal?” “But people change.” I took a sip of hot milk. “It’s like how I used to only drink soda, but now, I can actually drink milk.” She looked a bit sad. Just like other old classmates who’d visited me when I was sick. They all felt losing an epic love should be tragic. I used to think that way too, but then I figured it out. Eighteen-year-old Howard said he’d love eighteen-year-old Joshua forever. Twenty-eight-year-old Howard never said that. So, there’s no point in dwelling on the past. I patted my belly. “See? There are babies in here now.” Emily looked disbelieving. “You’re having more kids?” “Why not? Rosalind said for every child I bore, she’d give me another nine-figure sum and 5% of Howard Group shares.” Howard was incredibly good at making money, and Marcus took after his dad, with a very high IQ. My mom had only left me an eight-figure inheritance, which I’d invested entirely in Howard Group. In just a few years, my net worth had surpassed a billion. Where else would I find a husband and child who made money like that if I divorced him? Emily didn’t say anything. “But Scarlett has a child too. When her baby is born, it’ll definitely split Howard’s attention. If he writes a will, you might lose out on a lot.” I’d thought about that too, which is why I wanted two more kids. With more kids, Scarlett wouldn’t be able to get too much.

When I got home that evening, the broken items had been restored to their original state. That’s the upside of having money. As long as you have it, you can replace even the rarest things with identical ones. I held my hot milk, wearing a face mask, sitting in the spacious living room, listening to the lonely wind. Howard wasn’t back, and neither was Marcus. My private investigator told me that the three of them—Howard, Scarlett, and Marcus—were out having dinner at a romantic restaurant. In the photos sent to my phone, Howard wore a gentle smile, and Marcus’s eyes were sparkling. It was strange, how much they, father and son, liked Scarlett. That girl, besides looking a bit like me, had a completely different personality. She came from a poor background, wasn’t academically brilliant. Her only real virtue was her gentle patience. Unlike me, who’d been fiery since childhood. Howard and I actually met because of a misunderstanding that led to a fight. Back then, my friend got bullied after confessing her feelings. She tearfully mumbled a name, and I just assumed it was Howard, the hottest guy in school. Only after I’d finished my rant did my friend clarify it was someone from the class next door. Howard glared at me, a cold smirk on his face. “You just said some pretty awful things. How are you going to make it up to me?” On a whim, I puffed out my chest and leaned in. “How about I offer myself as compensation?” His face immediately flushed. We went from friends to lovers, like something out of a romantic teen movie. Everyone knew Howard was head-over-heels for me. At our wedding, he almost cried himself unconscious. My mom had just passed away then. He held me, sobbing, “Joshua, I’ll treat you well for the rest of our lives.” But the shelf life of our love was so short. In just five years, he had his first affair. Then a second, a third, until Scarlett. When I saw them together, I often felt a strange sense of déjà vu. It was like seeing eighteen-year-old Joshua and twenty-eight-year-old Howard falling in love all over again. Howard dropped Marcus off around ten that night. He was already calm, and even offered a few words of concern when he saw me. “How are the babies?” “They’re fine,” I said. “And your prenatal appointments?” “Normal.” Howard fell silent, turning his head away. I didn’t say anything either, just picked up my phone and continued looking at photos. He waited for a while, seeing I wasn’t speaking. “I just dropped Marcus off. Should I go now?” I didn’t even lift my eyelids. “Fine. No need to see you out.” After a long moment, I didn’t hear his footsteps. I looked up. Howard was still standing there. “Something wrong?” He pressed his lips together. “You… look pretty good.” What was wrong with him? “Thanks,” I said.

I thought Howard wouldn’t be back for a while, but then I saw him again the next morning. Howard and I hadn’t had a peaceful interaction in ages. Except for a few months ago, on our anniversary, we’d both had too much to drink and ended up in a strange, passionate entanglement all night. Most other times we met, we barely spoke. And if we did, we’d argue the moment we opened our mouths. This time, he came back on his own, which usually meant trouble. Sure enough, I heard Howard say, “Scarlett is due to give birth soon.” “So?” I asked. “I wanted to ask you, which postpartum recovery center is the best? You’re quite experienced in this area.” His expression was calm, as if he was genuinely asking for advice. If he wasn’t my husband, I might even praise him. But I was still pregnant myself. My own husband asking me for recommendations for his mistress’s recovery? Was he trying to kill me? I couldn’t help but sneer. “Is your company secretary underpaid? Can’t he handle this?” Howard gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Secretary Brown is doing the work of two people, he’s a bit overwhelmed. Plus, he’s a man, he doesn’t understand these things.” “Scarlett said you have experience; it’s her first baby, and she’s really scared. That’s why she asked me to come to you. She really didn’t want to bother you, I’ve seen her crying and crying. It reminds me of when you were pregnant with Marcus, how terrified you were. You’ve been through it, so you must understand how she feels.” I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to. No matter how generous I was, I wasn’t going to help my husband deal with this garbage. “Go ask around yourself. If all else fails, just book the most expensive one.” Howard frowned, annoyed. “Joshua, there you go again. The moment things don’t go your way, you get sarcastic.” “It’s always this terrible temper. Who else but me could put up with you?” He sighed. “Forget it, I shouldn’t have even asked.” “I’ve already looked at the postpartum recovery center information you booked on your tablet. Scarlett can just use that one. You vetted it, so it must be good.” “You’re only three months along, you have time to find another one. If not, you can just use it after Scarlett finishes, there’s still plenty of time.”

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My classmate, Sarah, saw me and happily pointed at my engagement ring. “You and Ethan are getting married, congrats!” Then, she gave a sly smile: “You know what? Olivia, who bullied you in high school, is now someone’s side piece.” Out of curiosity, I checked Olivia’s social media and found a post. 【Hate lasts longer than love. Take down your arch-nemesis.】 【He hated that I didn’t even glance at him in high school. He hated that I bullied his girlfriend, sending a report to the school board that got me expelled, making me miss out on my diploma.】 【Later, he got into an Ivy League school and landed a job at a prestigious firm right after graduation. Me? I was jobless, ended up working as a hostess.】 【But on the night of his engagement, one call from me brought him out, and we slept together 7 times that night.】 The comments under the post were all cursing her, but she brazenly posted a few joint photos. My hands trembled as I clicked to open them. The man kneeling beside her, putting on her high heels, showed half of his face. It was my fiancé, Ethan.

I felt almost dizzy, my fingertips zooming in and out. No matter how many times I looked, stubbornly refusing to believe it. That half-face, that matching couple’s ring on his right middle finger, it was exactly as I remembered. How could it be him? Just last week, before his business trip, Ethan had gently hugged me, his voice tender: “Chloe, the new apartment is almost ready. On moving day, we’ll head to city hall to get our marriage license.” Moving day was the day after tomorrow. The comments on that post kept scrolling, some questioning: “A bully actually found love? Who’d believe that?” “She’s probably just jealous of someone else’s true love and deliberately Photoshopped it to be disgusting.” My heart skipped a beat. My suffocating chest finally caught a breath. Olivia hated my guts. Knowing our wedding was close, it was possible she was just spreading rumors. After all, Ethan had more than once held my scarred hand, his eyes red with tears: “Every time you have a nightmare, I wish I could kill her.” Olivia replied to that one comment directly: “How ridiculous. Who’s true love isn’t set in stone. Here, take a closer look.” She uploaded another series of pictures. The screen was filled with screenshots of bank transfers and receipts, each specifically noted “voluntary gift.” Monthly short trips, with hundreds of flight tickets alone. “He’s madly in love with me. At least three boxes of condoms every month.” “The most thrilling time was when he pretended to work overtime.” “That bitch called to check up on him. I deliberately screamed a little louder, and he punished me all night. My back was killing me.” “Office desks aren’t exactly comfortable, though. I heard his couch was custom-made for her overseas.” “So tonight, the hostess of the new house will be me, I guess?” In the newly loaded selfie, she smiled, tilting her head, looking innocent. That door in the background was the entrance to the apartment complex Ethan and I had seen countless times but hadn’t moved into yet. The car reached its stop. I followed the crowd out of the car. The cold wind poured into my collar, chilling my face pale. While waiting for a cab, I stared down, dialing Ethan’s number again and again. Until I got into the car, there was no answer. On the eighth call, Ethan picked up. The distance to the new apartment was less than two miles. “Chloe, wha—” “Where are you?” I interrupted him, trying with all my might to steady my voice. Ethan’s voice was soft and tender: “I’m at work, overtime. Miss me already?” “Video call.” He paused, a hint of helplessness in his voice: “Baby, I have a meeting. Can I call you back later?” “I’ve got a lot of projects this month. I want to earn more so you won’t have to work so hard after we get married.” One mile. I was silent for a moment, then asked in a hoarse voice: “Ethan, have you ever lied to me?” He answered without hesitation: “Of course not, Chloe. Why the sudden question?” A faint scoff, almost imperceptible, reached my ears. It was Olivia. My heart slowly grew cold. Three hundred feet left. “Is someone next to you? Who is it?” Ethan coughed, trying to cover it up: “Just a colleague, Chloe. How about we talk later, when you’re back from your business trip—?” He suddenly stopped. “Chloe, are you… crying?” The car slowly pulled over. With just one glance, I saw them in the distance. Under the dim streetlights, Olivia, in a short skirt, was leaning softly against Ethan, half her body draped on him. She was listening to the phone, her face mocking. Everything she said was true. Ethan. You could cheat with anyone, but how could it be her? Tears splattered on the ground, but I stubbornly looked up, my voice hoarse: “Turn around.”

“What?” Ethan turned around, startled. The moment our eyes met, his face abruptly went pale. “Chloe…” He swayed, walked closer, his fingertips trembling as he wiped away my tears. “Don’t cry,” his voice softened. “It breaks my heart to see you cry.” I looked up blankly. Ethan looked at me with the exact same gaze as seven years ago. In our junior year of high school, Ethan and I became classmates. He was quiet, I was introverted; our only interaction was a “thank you” when papers were handed out. The night before the school sports day, we played truth or dare in the dorm. The sexy, outgoing Olivia blushed and said, “I have a crush on someone.” “Tomorrow at the sports day, once he takes my water, you’ll know who it is.” I happened to be absent that day. The next day, when I returned to school, I was called to help with logistics. Ethan, after finishing his 1000-meter race, glanced at the electrolyte drink Olivia offered him. Then he looked at the bottled water I had just set down. He walked past Olivia, picked up my water, and asked casually: “Why weren’t you here yesterday? Sick?” I forgot what I said. I only remembered that from that day on. Olivia spread rumors that I was a prude trying to seduce the baseball team captain, and then led the charge to ostracize me. During our late-night dorm chats, the moment I spoke, the air would fill with deliberate silence. I was chosen as the biology class rep. Olivia grinned and came closer. Her hand provocatively reached for my chest. “Wow, top in biology, and such big breasts! From now on, we’ll just call you ‘Beaker’.” From then on, the name “Beaker” became my nightmare. Summer school uniforms were quite sheer. During gym class, she deliberately splashed water all over me, then snickered: “Beaker, nice bra today, it’s pink!” “So many guys in class, who are you trying to hook up with? Tell us, I’ll help you out!” The first reaction of someone being bullied is always to self-reflect. Why me? Did I do something wrong? Seventeen-year-old Chloe didn’t understand. I was terrified, trying to negotiate, even to appease her. Explaining repeatedly, bringing her milk, helping her with difficult math problems. Olivia finally accepted, her attitude suddenly softening. During class, she slipped me a note: “I need to talk to you after school.” Ethan, sharp-eyed, spotted it and his expression tightened. “Don’t go.” I didn’t hear clearly. “What?” He turned his head away, no longer speaking. Years later, in countless midnight dreams, I would always remember that day. Olivia brought her ‘sisters’ from outside school to corner me. No matter how hysterically I fought back, they still stripped off my clothes, and with a utility knife, they cut my arms, one slash after another, until blood flowed freely. Olivia’s eyes were full of disgust: “Chloe, what are you pretending to be, a good girl? You’re such a bitch.” Later, Ethan arrived with the police. His jacket was draped over me as he kept calling out, “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe…” Suddenly, a warm drop fell on my face. My blurry vision slowly focused, and I saw clearly. It was Ethan’s tears. He said, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” “If only I had arrived sooner…” How could I blame him? It was his report to the school board that got Olivia expelled and dropped out. It was he who took time off to accompany me to therapy, helping me catch up on my missed studies little by little. We applied to the same college. The day our college acceptance letters came out, as Ethan and I walked side-by-side, he quietly took my hand. Four years of college, three years of work. From campus to wedding dress, our journey was almost entirely smooth. When we bought our apartment with our combined savings, Ethan pointed to every corner, planning what to put where. After he finished, he smiled, his eyes curving: “Chloe, what do you think?” People often feel a sense of unreality when they’re closest to happiness. Could fate really be this kind? Could the future really be so smooth? I didn’t know. But at that moment, I believed I was happy. How did it turn out like this? “Chloe, just listen to me calmly. It’s not what you think between me and her.” Ethan’s mouth opened and closed. But I couldn’t hear anything anymore.

Ethan poured a glass of warm water and placed it in my hand. He knelt down, face-to-face, his forehead against mine, his eyes pleading: “Chloe, please say something, don’t scare me.” “We’re home now. Look, it’s our new apartment.” Home? I vaguely came back to my senses. Olivia was already gone. Ethan’s glare had made her leave. Before she left, Olivia shrugged indifferently, then mouthed two words with a playful smirk: “Beaker.” So disgusting. So incredibly disgusting. I trembled all over and pushed him away forcefully. “Get lost.” Ethan’s lower back hit the table leg. He grunted and sighed: “Chloe, you can vent your anger however you want, but at least give me a chance to explain, right?” “Olivia just heard we were getting married and wanted to offer her congratulations.” Ethan’s tone was helpless: “I was afraid you’d misunderstand, and since you were on a business trip, I didn’t tell you.” “I didn’t know you’d come back early. This is my fault.” “That’s it?” I asked him. Ethan nodded. “Chloe, when have I ever lied to you?” My smile was uglier than any cry. Why? It was the same familiar face. The same familiar tone. Seven years. When did he learn to lie so flawlessly, without even a flicker in his eyes? Ethan was startled, thinking I was only upset because I’d seen Olivia. He patiently wiped away my tears. “We were just kids back in high school. Everyone makes mistakes.” “Besides, she already paid the price for it.” “No diploma, divorced parents. She entered the world early as a young woman, even getting enough to eat was a struggle. She was truly pitiful.” “Yes, she wronged you. But it’s been seven years. Why can’t you just get over it?” For seven years, every damp, rainy season, I would have nightmares. In my dreams, countless smooth hands, like vines, would cling stickily to me. Olivia’s cruel smiling face was always there. A cold blade would slide down my cheek, leaving a bloody trail. “Chloe, I was the first one to see your whole body. Doesn’t that make me half your man?” “Sweetie, don’t you dare forget me.” I’d wake up screaming, my face already drenched with tears, soaking the pillowcase. Ethan would quietly comfort me again and again: “Don’t be scared. It’s okay if you can’t forget. I’ll always be with you.” And now. He’s asking me, on behalf of my bully, why I can’t just get over it? My chest felt like it was being churned by a dull knife. One cut after another, deep and heavy. I lifted my pale face and asked the last question: “Why?” Ethan’s tone softened slightly, his gaze lowered: “Chloe, I don’t want to see you have nightmares.” “Let go of the past. We have a better future ahead. Let’s get our marriage license tomorrow, okay?” I was tired of his evasiveness. I asked hoarsely: “Ethan, tell me, did you sleep with her…” The urgent ringing of his phone suddenly broke the silence. He quickly answered. In less than three seconds, his expression became anxious. “I’m going out for a bit. Don’t wait up for me.” At the same time, an unfamiliar text message popped up on my phone. “Chloe, do you believe me? In five minutes, he’ll be in my bed.” The familiar malice confronted me directly. I instinctively grabbed Ethan’s sleeve: “Don’t go…” He paused, turned around, and slowly pulled his hand away. “Chloe, I have to go.” The door closed. I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. I couldn’t stop him. Seven years ago, Chloe insisted on going to that meeting out of foolishness. Ethan wasn’t stupid. He was enjoying every minute of it. The screen lit up again. “Chloe, you still don’t know, do you?” “He slept with me on the night you got engaged.”

Naked provocation. Should I laugh? I was so broken that the words just registered as numbly. The next message appeared, like a death knell. The moment I saw it clearly, a sharp, sudden pain pierced my chest, almost stealing my breath. “Chloe, did you really think he hated me?” “The day I was expelled from school, he slipped me a phone number and an address.” “Chloe, Chloe, the truth is, you lost a long time ago.” My hands trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t a coincidence at all. Not a drunken mistake, not a chance encounter at a bar. It was one call from Olivia, and he went. Ethan. When you kept comforting me not to be scared, when your eyes reddened touching the scars on my hand. When you cried with excitement celebrating buying this new apartment. Were you crying for the woman you claimed to love, or were you worried about how the bully from years ago was doing? A wave of nausea washed over me. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up until I saw stars. Along with my shattered heart, it all went down the drain. Forget it. This was all too disgusting. Wiping my face, I opened my laptop and, underneath that expatriate job offer I’d never even considered, I checked ‘agree’. After shutting down, I booked a ticket for the next day. I had rushed back overnight, not even opening my suitcase. It was fine. No need to pack anymore. That post was updated again. Amidst a flurry of curses, Olivia posted a photo of them holding hands. “The line between hate and love is so fine, after all.” “Even as he hated me for bullying, wasn’t it a kind of attention?” “See? Seven years, and I still won, didn’t I?” I didn’t sleep all night. I saved and recorded every one of her words, every undeniable piece of evidence of their affair. Early the next morning, I dragged my suitcase out the door. I ran right into Ethan, who was rushing back. Seeing the suitcase, his gaze stopped, and his expression became anxious. “Chloe, I was just called in last night for an urgent project. You don’t need to make a scene over this, do you?” Ethan rubbed his tired brows, his tone softening slightly: “I didn’t sleep all night, just quickly rinsed off, sorry.” He curved his lips and took my suitcase: “We agreed to get our marriage license today, Chloe. All our relatives and friends are waiting for us to post it on Ins for likes.” “I’ve already booked the makeup artist; she’ll be here soon, we…” I sidestepped, avoiding his hand. Ethan’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air. A strange feeling flashed through his heart. “What’s wrong?” I quietly looked at him, suddenly curious: “Ethan, how much sincerity was there in your smooth words?” “What…?” “Olivia’s perfume from last night hadn’t faded yet, and there was a lipstick stain on the back of your collar.” Ethan’s face abruptly went pale. I managed a mocking smile: “Most importantly, the wedding ring on your right hand? You took it off.”

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My fiancé, Ethan, won a raffle for a couple’s trip to an island resort. The host asked, “Dr. Ethan, who will you be taking?” Everyone’s gaze turned to me, and murmurs of my name filled the room: “Chloe! Chloe!” My heart pounded faster. I looked at him with a smile. But he pointed to Mia, his assistant, who was sitting below: “Give it to her. She’s been working incredibly hard lately.” Mia’s face flushed instantly. My best friend, Cassie, leaned into my ear, fuming. “Didn’t we all agree to have our weddings on the island this year? How could your fiancé do this?” I smiled, forcing back the sting in my eyes. “Don’t worry. The plan’s still on.” I would wear my wedding dress and get married on that island. If Ethan didn’t want to go, then he wouldn’t. Ethan walked down from the stage with an unhurried grace. As he passed his assistant’s seat, he naturally paused. He handed over the envelope containing the travel voucher, a hint of indulgence in his smile: “Here.” Mia’s eyes instantly lit up, a mix of surprise and delight. She pressed her pretty lips together, taking the envelope with both hands. As if she wasn’t just receiving a raffle ticket, but a weighty, significant honor. The next second, she stood up gracefully, her voice clear, her tone cheerful and rather loud: “Thank you for always thinking of me! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you!” With that, she even performed a lively, playful curtsy towards Ethan. Straightening up, she paused, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she glanced at Ethan, a mix of youthful playfulness and subtle testing. “But… I don’t really have anyone to travel with. Why don’t you come with me?” The air around us seemed to freeze for a moment, then broke into a few suggestive snickers. Cassie, beside me, shot up, ready to confront him. I gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her back into her seat, forcing a deliberately casual smile. “Why are you still so impulsive? Ethan won’t agree.” No sooner had I spoken than I heard Ethan’s voice, laced with amusement. “Well, that depends on your work performance.” “Yes, sir!” Mia exaggeratedly stood at attention and saluted, drawing laughter from the crowd. Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle. He patted her shoulder and walked towards me. “What the hell is going on?!” Cassie was barely held back by me, gritting her teeth as she whispered fiercely in my ear. “Is she playing innocent because she’s young? Is she genuinely clueless, or is this deliberate?” “We’ve been together, the four of us, for eight years! Back in college, we made a pact to have a double wedding on the island!” “Liam and I have already set everything! Is Ethan truly clueless, or did he just forget?” “This raffle was practically set up for him! Why else would he even be here? And to top it off, he brought his assistant!” She grew angrier as she spoke, her chest heaving. I placed my hand over hers, patting it gently. “Sit still. Don’t get worked up.” She didn’t say anything more, but the sheen of tears in her eyes refused to dry, and she huffily turned her head away. Ethan sat back down beside me. He seemed to sense something, glancing at my face and Cassie’s, then smiled. It was that familiar, gentle charm that always made it impossible to stay angry at him. He took my hand, his thumb caressing my knuckles, and said in a low voice: “The beach isn’t that fun anyway; it’s always packed with people. When I take my annual leave at the end of the year, I’ll take you for a quiet getaway in the mountains.” I gently withdrew my hand, my gaze not meeting his. “No need. You just focus on your work.” He paused, then smiled and withdrew his hand. To my left, Cassie, not giving up, pulled out her phone and quickly typed a few words, then leaned over: “Liam’s giving a speech soon; I’ll get him to help us out.” I offered her a grateful smile, not objecting.

Cassie, Liam, and Ethan, and I. The four of us were the best of friends in college. Liam and Cassie started this company together, and they really busted their butts getting it off the ground during the early days. Once the company was finally on track, Cassie relentlessly convinced me to join as the VP of Public Relations. It was a perfect fit for my major, and we could hang out all the time, just like in college. Not long after, Liam, as a founder, was invited onto the stage. Then the host asked about his personal plans for the second half of the year. Liam played coy, stroking his chin and pausing for a few seconds before grinning. “Next month! I’m getting married on the island!” The audience erupted in cheers and playful jeers. He turned and looked at our table, his gaze settling on Cassie, his voice suddenly softening: “I hope to spend my life with my wife. Even with all the playful bickering we’re bound to have!” Laughter and applause blended enthusiastically. Cassie’s eyes welled up, but she muttered, “You’re crazy.” Liam’s tone shifted, and his gaze moved to Ethan. He sincerely and expectantly extended a hand, asking loudly and with full vigor: “Brother, want to join us?!” My eyes suddenly welled up. All the spotlights seemed to be focused on our table. Everyone’s eyes were on Ethan. Our friends had their hands clasped in front of them, ready to erupt in applause. The sound tech quietly flipped a switch, ready to cue the music. Perhaps the atmosphere was truly moving, as I turned to look at Ethan, a faint, fragile hope flickering in my heart once more. But Ethan, under everyone’s watchful eyes, just smiled, waved his hand, and replied with a playful tone: “You go first. I’m not really into crowded weddings.” We were all adults; Liam didn’t press the issue, just awkwardly rubbed his nose and continued his speech. The surging tide in my heart finally receded, leaving behind only a dead calm and an endless, salty emptiness. Nicole, from not far away, turned her head, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. Her gaze slid past Ethan and quietly assessed me. Her eyes held curiosity, triumph, and a hint of indefinable pity. I calmly nodded at her, curving my lips into a polite, distant smile. That entire day, Cassie didn’t speak another word to Ethan. Whenever their eyes met, she looked at him as if he were her worst enemy. In the end, Liam awkwardly saw us out by himself. Ethan and I emerged from the parking lot, and from a distance, we saw Mia standing alone at the company entrance. The night breeze pressed her skirt against her calves as she hugged her arms, looking around expectantly. Ethan’s car window rolled down. Mia’s eyes lit up, and she scurried over, calling out Ethan’s name with a pitiful whimper: “Ethan—” “Why haven’t you left yet?” “Can’t get a ride-share… it’s impossible to book one this late,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of grievance. Ethan glanced at the backseat, then at me, his tone neutral: “I can give you a lift.” “Oh, I don’t know… Chloe’s here,” Mia said, pressing her lips together, though her feet remained firmly planted. “It’s on the way,” Ethan said, then turned to me. “Our place is on the way. I’ll drop you off first, then take her home.” I nodded. There was nothing more to say. All the way, Mia chattered like a magpie, rattling off amusing anecdotes from the hospital. Listening to those unfamiliar names, I suddenly felt like an awkward outsider. After I got out, Ethan leaned out the window, his voice soft as he cautioned: “You go on up. I’ll be back as soon as I drop her off.” I acknowledged him and turned to leave. As I reached the building, my steps involuntarily slowed. Driven by an inexplicable impulse, I couldn’t help but glance back. Under the streetlamp, the black sedan hadn’t turned off its engine. Through the windshield, I saw that Mia had, at some point, moved to the passenger seat. She was leaning slightly forward, excitedly tugging on Ethan’s arm, pointing at the road ahead and saying something. Ethan had his head turned, seemingly listening to her, his profile, bathed in the play of light and shadow, looked exceptionally gentle. The next second, the car did a U-turn and drove off in the opposite direction.

Back home, I started packing. There wasn’t much to pack, really. I just mechanically folded clothes from my closet, one by one, and put them into a box. Until my fingers brushed against the velvet box hidden deep in the closet. I opened it. Inside lay a silver bracelet, with a small, irregularly shaped starfish charm. Ethan had given it to me during our junior year, when he confessed his feelings. That day, he was so nervous his forehead was slick with sweat, and he could barely string a sentence together. As he pressed the box into my hand, he said: “Chloe, I don’t have much money now, but I want to give you this piece of the ocean first.” “I promise you, very soon, I’ll take you to see the real thing.” In his eyes, I saw my own reflection shimmering, like a constellation filling the entire sea. I ran my fingers over the starfish, which had already oxidized a bit. A cold touch spread through my fingertips. At the very bottom of the drawer was a photograph. It was a group photo of the four of us, with a Gothic cathedral from a college trip in the background. In the picture, Cassie and Liam were laughing carefree, Ethan had his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into his embrace. All four of us, in the prime of our youth. I remembered that day, sunlight streaming through the cathedral’s tall stained-glass windows, falling on us. Liam had exclaimed, “This church is so sacred; I’m going to get married here someday, how grand!” But I had frowned, murmuring softly: “It’s too ornate and oppressive. I don’t like it.” “If I get married, I’d still prefer it by the sea.” “Blue skies, white clouds, and the sound of waves as the best background music.” Ethan had then squeezed my cheek, smiling indulgently: “Okay, whatever you want.” “Later, the four of us will have a wedding on the island together. You and I as one couple, Liam and Cassie as the other, how about it?” “It’s a deal!” “Pinky promise!” Four pinky fingers hooked together, making that vow. It seems laughable now, but to preserve that sense of sacredness, I had yearned for the ocean countless times, yet never once gone. I stubbornly held onto the hope that the first time I saw the sea, it would be with him. Dressed in a white wedding gown, embarking on the next chapter of my life. But now, he casually said the beach was full of people and not much fun. The sound of a key turning in the lock came from the living room. Ethan was back. I quickly wiped my eyes, stuffing the bracelet and photo back into their places. I walked to the living room sofa and sat down, starting to flip through the bridal boutique brochures on the coffee table. As he changed his shoes, he said in a relaxed tone: “What happened with Mia today was an accident. There was an emergency patient who needed surgery at noon, and she stood with me in the operating room for five or six hours. Plus, she had some family issues and didn’t want to go back to face them, so I brought her along to lighten her mood.” His explanation was perfectly logical, completely watertight. I calmly nodded: “Mmm, I understand.” Ethan seemed to relax, then turned with a satisfied expression to take a shower. My phone rang. It was the bridal boutique consultant. “Ms. Chloe, hello. The wedding gowns you and Mrs. King liked yesterday have arrived in your sizes.” “When would be a good time for you to come for a fitting? Will Mr. Ethan be able to join you?”

Her voice was loud, exceptionally clear in the quiet living room. The bathroom door opened, and Ethan walked out, wrapped in a towel, water still dripping from his hair. He had clearly heard the phone call. The smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by suppressed anger. He frowned, walking over to me. “Chloe, why are you always so immature?” I hung up the phone and looked up at him. “Is getting married something one person can decide? Have you ever considered my feelings?” I said softly, “But I don’t want to break our promise.” Ethan stared at me, seemingly unable to believe I could be so stubborn. He shook his head, finally speaking harsh words: “Unreasonable.” “I’ve indulged you for so many years; I’ve spoiled you rotten.” “I don’t have time to go to the island. If you don’t want to make a fool of yourself, go return that dress tomorrow!” The next day. Ethan told me he was attending a month-long medical symposium in New York and would be performing a few consulting surgeries while he was there. I knew in my heart he was avoiding me. A month later would be Liam and Cassie’s wedding on the island. By the time he returned, the wedding would already be a done deal. This outcome, in fact, had long been anticipated. But I never imagined that, to avoid marrying me, he would even choose to skip his best friend’s wedding. I silently saw him off at the airport. At the security checkpoint, Mia was already waiting, hauling two enormous suitcases. Seeing me, a brilliant smile bloomed on her face, and she said to me with a knowing look: “Don’t worry, Chloe. Ethan’s all mine this month. I promise to take good care of him, make sure he’s well-fed and taken care of.” I smiled and nodded: “Then I’ll leave him in your capable hands.” Watching Ethan turn to enter the security lane, driven by an inexplicable impulse, I couldn’t help but call out to him: “Ethan!” He stopped, looking at me across the bustling crowd. Sunlight streamed through the airport’s massive glass atrium, dappling his face with light and shadow. It was still his face, but when did the boy I loved truly leave me? Tears welled in my eyes. I tried to force a smile and softly said: “Goodbye forever.” The air was thick with the din of people, the drone of announcements, the rumble of suitcase wheels, and the cries of children—a massive, interwoven cacophony. He didn’t hear me clearly. He waved a confused hand and called out, “What?” I didn’t answer again, just waved vigorously at him. He frowned, seeming to sense something, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, as he wavered, wanting to turn back. Mia tugged his arm from behind, her voice a playful whine: “Ethan, hurry up! We’re going to miss it!” He followed her, walking on. He kept turning back to look at me as he walked. I smiled, watching them, until they were completely out of sight. Leaving the airport, I went to the amusement park alone. The carousel spun on, tirelessly. The first time Ethan took me out, we rode the carousel. It was one of the few rides that didn’t require an extra ticket, but we were ecstatic. He picked two horses side-by-side, one white, one brown. The music started, and the carousel began to turn. “Chloe. I love the feeling of riding side-by-side.” He reached out, and in the rhythm of the rising and falling horses, he took my hand. “On our path forward, all I’d have to do is turn my head to see you.” “That’s my ultimate happiness.” Ding-dong—the music stopped. The carousel slowly ground to a halt. I sat alone on the white horse, the brown one beside me empty. I stepped out of the railing. I looked back. Only seven or eight rotations, and I was back at the starting point. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A message from Cassie: “Tomorrow we’re going to the island to finalize the venue and arrangements. Are you really sure about this?” I looked up. A seam split open in the overcast sky, revealing a sliver of clean blue. Tomorrow, I was going to see the ocean.

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My boyfriend Ethan makes forty thousand dollars a month, and every month he puts thirty thousand dollars into an account for me. Everyone says I found a great guy. But only I knew he never gave me the card’s PIN. He said it was for our future, but our present? I paid for everything. Dinners out, rent, even his clothes and new phone — he always asked me for money. I was a college student who hadn’t even graduated yet, working four part-time jobs, to the point my period stopped being regular. All he said was: “I’m putting thirty thousand aside for you every month, and you’re still quibbling over these small amounts?” Then came my graduation presentation. My mom had a heart attack. I rushed to the bank with that card, only for the teller to tell me— “Ma’am, this card was canceled three years ago. There was never a single cent in it.” At that moment, standing in the bank lobby, looking at that useless piece of plastic in my hand, I suddenly burst out laughing. On our third anniversary, my boyfriend Ethan updated his Ins. The post featured a retouched photo of us at a fancy restaurant, with a close-up of a bank card and a bouquet of flowers beside it. The caption read: “Three-year anniversary. The 36th deposit of $30,000 for her is in. That $30,000 I put aside for her every month is her security.” His comments section was full of praise: A friend commented: “Ethan is so good to her, thirty thousand a month? Who could resist that?” A colleague commented: “Hazel must’ve saved the galaxy in a past life.” His mom commented: “My son is so reliable. Hazel is lucky to be with him.” I looked at that beautifully crafted post and could only think that I paid $880 for that dinner, and even the flowers on the table were bought by me. Before I could even process it, Ethan sent me a few links: “Hazel, can you pay for these shoes for me? And this shirt, I need some new clothes.” I glanced at the prices: the shoes were one thousand eight hundred, the shirt one thousand two hundred. That was three thousand total. I was currently working four part-time jobs, and only making seven thousand a month altogether. A bitter feeling rose in my chest. I carefully worded my reply: “Things are a bit tight lately. Maybe next month?” Ethan replied instantly: “I put thirty thousand aside for you every month, and you can’t even buy me a pair of shoes? Hazel, you’re not going to be that stingy, are you?” “If I wasn’t putting thirty thousand aside for you every month, would I even have to ask you for clothes?” My throat tightened. I opened my banking app; my balance was only four hundred twenty dollars. “I… I don’t have enough money this month. Can I buy them for you next month?” Ethan replied instantly: “Not enough again? Hazel, I put thirty thousand aside for you as security for our future, not for you to be so wasteful!” “Where did all your money go?!” Where did my money go? Last week, he said his company was organizing an outdoor team-building event, so I bought him a full outdoor outfit, a thousand dollars. The week before, I just paid the rent, six thousand. I used to share an apartment, and it only cost me seven hundred a month. After I started dating Ethan, he said the bank’s dorms were too crowded, and he worried about me living alone as a girl. He insisted on moving in with me. My shared apartment became a full rental, and my seven hundred dollar monthly rent became two thousand dollars. In three years, Ethan hadn’t paid a single cent of rent. If I dared to question it, he’d scold me: “Hazel, if I wasn’t putting thirty thousand aside for you every month, would I be so broke? Can’t even afford rent? Don’t I have any dignity?” “You’re holding a card with over a million of my dollars, and you’re still being so cheap about buying me clothes? Do you have a heart?” “You’re just a college student; how would you understand the hardships of working life? You should do more part-time jobs and experience life!” Thinking of this, I closed my eyes, opened a job search app, and started looking for a fifth part-time job.

My roommate Lucy asked me, “Hazel, you mentioned your period hadn’t come for several months last time. Did you go get it checked?” I froze, a bitter taste in my mouth, unsure how to answer. My classmates all envied me, saying my boyfriend put thirty thousand dollars aside for me every month, the kind of boyfriend they couldn’t find even if they searched high and low. But who knew that my period hadn’t come for four months, and I couldn’t even afford a hospital visit? That so-called thirty thousand dollars every month? I hadn’t touched a single cent. The card was in my hand, but the PIN wasn’t. I asked for the PIN a few times, and Ethan would always say, “I’ll tell you the PIN later. Anyway, the card is with you; the money isn’t going anywhere.” This empty promise became Ethan’s leverage over me. I found it hard to refuse him anything he asked for. I had to buy him clothes and shoes, pay his car insurance, and even top up his phone. His phone was the latest iPhone, while mine was an old $100 phone my mom bought me before I started college. When we went out for dinner or movies, I always paid. Household essentials, groceries, utility bills — he never bothered with any of it. If I showed even a hint of hesitation, he would immediately throw out that line: “I put thirty thousand aside for you every month, and you’re quibbling over these small amounts with me?” This sentence was like a lock that cut off all my escape routes. For three out of my four years in college, I dated him. For those three years, besides classes, I was always working part-time jobs, doing four jobs, to the point my period was irregular. What was the point of this relationship? That weekend, Ethan took me to a restaurant for dinner. Soon after we sat down, we ran into two of Ethan’s colleagues. We just joined tables. Ethan was very generous, grabbing the menu and adding several dishes. We all ate happily. When we were almost done, the waiter placed the bill on the table: “Your table’s total is six hundred thirty dollars.” A colleague was about to grab his phone to pay when Ethan stopped him. He pushed the bill towards me, “This one’s on me.” He said it was on him, but I was the one who paid. His two colleagues didn’t find anything wrong with this, because all of Ethan’s colleagues knew that as soon as Ethan got paid each month, he’d transfer thirty thousand dollars to his girlfriend. But my phone balance was only four hundred twenty dollars total right now, nowhere near enough. Under the table, I tugged on Ethan’s sleeve and whispered, “I don’t have enough money…” Ethan didn’t even look up. “Stop it.” I didn’t know what to do; my face slowly began to burn. The waiter asked again, “Who will be paying?” Ethan didn’t answer. One colleague chuckled, teasing me, “Come on, Hazel! Ethan’s total salary is forty thousand, and thirty thousand goes to you. This meal is just pocket change for you, right?” Another colleague chimed in, “Exactly, Hazel! Thirty thousand dollars! We’re so envious. This meal is just pocket change for you!” Everyone was waiting for me to pay. I felt like I was being roasted alive, my face beet red. But I really had no money. I stood there, phone in hand, stiff and unsure what to do. The waiter had waited too long, and his expression started to show impatience. He directly prompted me: “Ma’am, the total is six hundred thirty. SnapChat or PayPal?” The two colleagues’ gazes turned unfriendly, and even customers at the next table started looking our way.

“Why isn’t that girl paying yet? What’s she waiting for?” “Didn’t they just say her boyfriend puts thirty thousand aside for her every month? I’m so envious.” “She’s not paying even this? Is she just being cheap?” “Maybe she spent it all.” “Oh my god, she spent thirty thousand already? She’s so extravagant! Girls these days really…” Ethan finally realized I genuinely couldn’t pay this time. He shook his head, smiling as he pulled out his phone, “Alright, alright, I’ll get it.” As he paid, he explained to his colleagues, “Girls can be a bit stingy. I put thirty thousand aside for her every month, and she’s used to spending lavishly. It’s gone before the month is out. She’s still a student, you know, a bit thoughtless.” The colleagues’ looks towards me weren’t friendly either. “Ethan, you spoil Hazel too much. Thirty thousand isn’t enough for her? That’s not right. Hazel, Ethan works hard for his money; you need to be considerate and not squander it.” Another agreed, “Exactly, girls spend without thinking; you can’t spoil them. Ethan, you really need to rein Hazel in. She’s so generous with herself but cheap when it comes to treating you.” I sat there, frozen with indignation. Again, thirty thousand! Everyone knew he put thirty thousand aside for me every month! But who knew I was now working five jobs? Who knew I couldn’t even afford to visit a hospital when I was sick? Who knew my card balance had never exceeded three digits? I swallowed back my tears, refusing to cry in public. That evening, I saw a post from Ethan’s mom on Ins: “My son bought me a new phone. I told him not to get such an expensive one, but he insisted this one was good.” The accompanying photo was of the latest iPhone, seven thousand eight hundred dollars. I stared at that picture, and tears streamed down my face. Ethan bought his mom a seven-thousand-eight-hundred-dollar phone without batting an eye, yet in three years, he had never bought me a single cup of coffee. I scrolled further back through Ethan’s mom’s Ins. Ethan gave his mom eight thousand dollars every month, either in cash or by buying things, and his mom would post about it monthly. Clothes and skincare products worth thousands of dollars were common. I clenched my phone and opened my SnapChat conversation with Ethan. Scrolling up, the screen was filled with messages from him asking me to buy things. “Pay for these shoes for me.” “Car insurance is due; can you cover it first?” “My phone needs an upgrade.” From small items like socks and underwear to big ones like phones and cameras. Over three years, the cost of these things added up to over two hundred thousand dollars, crushing my entire college life. And I, myself, had never bought clothes or skincare products costing over a hundred dollars. I stared at my phone, my heart growing colder by the second. He always said he gave me thirty thousand of his forty-thousand-dollar salary, leaving him not enough to spend. Turns out, his “not enough to spend” just meant not enough to spend on *me*. His money was always enough. But he knew exactly who it was spent on. A ringtone interrupted my thoughts. It was my mom calling. “Mom, how’s your health lately?” “Hazel, I’m fine. Just a bit of tightness in my chest, and I can’t catch my breath.” My heart clenched. “Mom, you need to go to the hospital and get checked out.” “It’s nothing major, just tired. I’ll rest for a couple of days and be fine.” “What if something serious happens?” I got anxious. “Just do it for my peace of mind.” My mom was silent for a moment before speaking. “A hospital check-up costs at least a few hundred dollars. If there’s nothing wrong, wouldn’t that be a waste?” “I’m not capable. Other people’s kids have an easy time in college, but my daughter has to work part-time to earn her living expenses. I can’t drag my daughter down anymore.” My eyes welled up, and my throat felt tight. Ethan and his mom used the latest phones and wore clothes worth thousands. Meanwhile, my mom and I couldn’t even afford a hospital visit.

On the day of my graduation presentation, I had just stepped down from the podium, pulled out my phone, and saw over a dozen missed calls. All from my mom. My heart sank, and I quickly called her back. But it wasn’t my mom who answered; it was our neighbor, Mr. Davis. “Hazel, come home quickly! Your mom fainted right downstairs after buying groceries. A few neighbors and I took her to the hospital!” My head started spinning. “The doctor said it’s a heart condition and she needs immediate surgery! They’re asking family to pay up quickly! One hundred thousand dollars!” I didn’t wait for my presentation results. I grabbed my bag and ran out. On the way, I messaged Ethan: “What’s the card PIN? Urgent.” After a while, he replied: “I’ll tell you later. You have enough from your part-time jobs; don’t spend carelessly.” My hands were shaking too much to type, so I called him directly. “Ethan, my mom is sick! Heart attack! She needs one hundred thousand dollars for surgery! Please tell me the PIN now!” The other end of the phone was silent for two seconds, then he said unhurriedly: “Hazel, you’re cursing your own mom just to trick me into giving you money? That’s going too far.” He hung up immediately, not listening to another word I had to say. My hands trembling, I scrolled through all my accounts on my phone. SnapChat balance, PayPal, bank cards—all combined, I only had just over seven hundred dollars. Not even a fraction of what was needed. I called Ethan’s number again. It was off. I sent a message, and an auto-reply popped up: “In a closed-door meeting, please do not disturb.” For four years, I had worked part-time jobs continuously, saved diligently, and most of the money I earned went to Ethan. I hadn’t saved a single cent for myself. He claimed every month he put thirty thousand aside for me, over a million dollars in three years, yet I couldn’t even afford my mom’s one-hundred-thousand-dollar surgery fee. My tears streamed down uncontrollably. With no other choice, I rushed into the nearest bank, went straight to the counter, and handed the bank card to the teller. “Hi, I need to withdraw money, but I forgot the PIN. Can I use my ID?” The teller took the card and checked it: “Ma’am, this card is in a canceled state.” My heart lurched violently. “How is that possible? My boyfriend deposits thirty thousand every month; there should be over a million dollars in it now!” The teller looked at me with some pity: “This card was canceled three years ago. From its opening to its cancellation, there was never a single deposit recorded.” I stood there, completely frozen, feeling like my world crashed down. Three years, and not a single deposit. What about his monthly Ins posts then? What about the transfer screenshots of that bank card? What about that line, “That $30,000 I put aside for her every month is her security”? All of it was fake. He had been lying to me from beginning to end! My phone rang again. It was Mr. Davis. “Hazel, the doctor is pressing for the payment again! Your mom can’t wait; you need to hurry!” I looked down at the card in my hand and suddenly burst out laughing. I was a college student, working four jobs to support him, scrimping and saving, only to pour it all into him. And he used a fake card to trick me for three years, making me willingly be his ATM. Fine. Ethan, you’re really something else. I fiercely rubbed my face, hailed a cab back to our rental apartment, and dug out all of Ethan’s documents: his ID, vehicle registration, bank professional qualification, fund manager license, academic certificates, etc. I photographed each one. Ethan worked at the bank and was well-connected. He always appeared outwardly generous, and his Ins posts monthly boasted about putting thirty thousand aside for his girlfriend. Everyone thought he had a legitimate job, stable income, and was a reliable good guy. Well, perfect. I started calling Ethan’s classmates, friends, colleagues, and clients, one by one. “Hi, I’m Ethan’s girlfriend. He’s having some cash flow issues lately. Could you lend him fifty thousand? You can use his documents as collateral.” “Ethan urgently needs some money; would it be okay to lend him one hundred thousand?” In two hours, I made almost a hundred calls. The ‘money received’ notifications on my bank app chimed non-stop. I checked my account: seven hundred eighty thousand dollars had arrived.

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For the sake of avoiding any appearance of favoritism, or perhaps just to avoid my “dirty” touch, Dr. Eleanor Vance, my mom, left me, severely injured from a car accident, in her office. She turned to check on the other students, who only had minor scrapes but kept crying about how much it hurt. The other doctors were urging her to check on me. With my blood-soaked hand, I grabbed her arm, almost begging. “Eleanor, I’m in so much pain. Please, don’t go, okay?” But Eleanor didn’t even glance at me. She just flung my hand away. “Lily Vance, don’t touch me with your dirty hands. Don’t you know I’m a germophobe?” “Don’t think you’re getting special treatment just because you’re my daughter!” “Besides a little blood on your hand, you look fine. The others need me more than you do. Stop being dramatic and wait here!” I watched Eleanor’s retreating back in despair. Suddenly, my throat tightened, my vision went black, and I spat out a pool of dark, clotted blood into the trash can. Was I… dying? I’m so sorry, Eleanor. I don’t think I can wait for you.

I floated out of my body and drifted towards Eleanor. The piercing pain, like a truck had just run over my insides, was completely gone. Before I could even feel relieved, I heard the voice of a little boy who had been on the school bus with me. “Dr. Vance, if Lily says she’s in pain, don’t believe her. She’s the biggest liar!” Recognizing the boy’s face, I immediately knew something was wrong. After all, at school, he always bullied me and spread rumors about me. Eleanor’s expression grew serious. She crouched down, asking patiently. “Little one, what do you mean by that? Has Lily been misbehaving at school, doing something bad?” “Dr. Vance, she likes my best friend, but she lied to the teacher, saying my best friend bullied her! Oh, and she cheated on her tests!” Eleanor’s frown deepened. “Lily Vance, you’ve really grown some nerve! Not only are you chasing after boys, but you dare to cheat and slander others!” “I worked so hard raising you all these years, only to raise such an ungrateful wretch!” No. Eleanor, I didn’t! I never did any of those things. Eleanor, please don’t believe him! He’s the one who’s always bullying me! I panicked instantly, rushing over, trying to grab Eleanor’s hand to explain. But I forgot I was dead. My hand just passed through empty air. Eleanor looked furious. She quickly checked on the other students. After seeing they had no major issues, she angrily took off her examination tools and stormed towards her office. “You guys take care of these kids’ injuries. I’m going to personally teach that disrespectful, ungrateful wretch a lesson. All she does is embarrass me!” Leo’s eyes lit up when he heard that. He immediately jumped off the hospital bed, yelling, and followed Eleanor. “Time to watch the clown girl cry again! Clown girl, clown girl!” The other kids heard him and, ignoring the nurses’ protests, also jumped off their beds to join the commotion. “Wait for us, I want to see too… I want to see the clown girl too!” I’d been hearing “clown girl” for almost two years. On my first day of elementary school, Eleanor had publicly announced her position as the hospital director. She even left her private number so people could contact her directly for appointments. And to avoid any appearance of favoritism, no matter what illness I had, she made me buy medicine myself. Only when I was very seriously ill would she take me to the hospital. All the kids in class knew that my mom didn’t seem to love me. Because even though I had a director for a mother, I was always sick, looking frail and sickly all the time. “Clown girl” was the nickname Leo gave me. He started bullying me every day after that.

Eleanor stormed into the office shortly after, kicking the door open with her foot. Her face was dark as she shouted my name. “Lily Vance! Get over here!” “I’ve been busy saving lives, and I forgot to discipline you. Now you’ve really become bold!” But I, who was always timid and obedient in front of Eleanor, surprisingly didn’t respond. I was still sitting on that cold chair, my head tilted to one side, my whole body hanging precariously, as if about to fall. When Eleanor saw me like this, the anger in her eyes intensified. She rushed over and shoved me hard. My body, from the inertia, slammed onto the nearby desk like a rag doll. “Lily Vance, I’m talking to you! Are you deaf?!” “You just bled a few drops, don’t pretend to be dead here! Get up right now!” Crying, I quickly floated to Eleanor, shedding non-existent tears, desperately waving my ghostly hands at her. “Eleanor, I’m here, look at me…” “That’s my body. I’m already dead…” Just then, Leo rushed in. Seeing my blood-covered hands, he shouted. “Dr. Vance, Lily’s blood must be fake! We didn’t bleed at all, why is she the only one?” “She must have put it on herself!” “No, Eleanor, don’t believe him!” “That’s all the blood I coughed up…” But Eleanor believed him. She glared at me fiercely. “Lily Vance, do you think doing this will make me give you special treatment?!” “How can your mind be so twisted? Do you know how much effort I put in to stand in this position?” “Are you trying to ruin me? Are you? Answer me! Are you mute?!” “No! Eleanor, I never thought that!” “I really wanted to talk to you!” “But I was too useless…” “I couldn’t hold on until you came.” “Fine! Lily Vance, you’re just great!” “I see you’re determined to…” Eleanor’s words were cut short by Nurse Chloe, who rushed over. “Dr. Vance, your daughter’s complexion doesn’t look right. You can discipline your child anytime, but why don’t you check on her first? What if something serious happened…” “Check what? She has perfectly good arms and legs. Did you see her bump or bruise anywhere?” “She’s just throwing a tantrum because I didn’t see her first. That’s why she’s deliberately ignoring me!” “Even a child can see through it, why can’t you?” Nurse Chloe took half a step back after Eleanor yelled at her and didn’t say anything more. “Lily Vance, someone just stood up for you. Are you happy? Go ahead and smile! Why are you still pretending to be dead?” Eleanor, I’m not happy at all. I want to cry so badly. But I’m already dead. I don’t even have the right to shed tears. Eleanor’s patience quickly ran out. She lunged forward and grabbed my collar, only to find my body soft like a sheet of paper. She paused for a moment, then sneered. “Heh. You’re quite good at pretending. You love to act, don’t you? Then I’ll beat you until you stop!” Eleanor said, raising her hand and giving me a harsh slap. She let go. My body fell straight onto the cold floor like a dead fish. *Thud*, the sound was not small. I lay face down on the ground, still motionless. “Hahahaha… Look everyone, the clown girl looks so ugly like this!” “Ugh, even her mom hates her! I told you I was right, she’s just a clown girl!” “That’s not true!” I rushed to them, trying to argue. “Eleanor doesn’t hate me. She just doesn’t want me to affect her work. She loves me…” But as I spoke, my voice faded. I just realized. Ever since Eleanor became the hospital director two years ago, she hadn’t taken me to the amusement park in a long time, nor did she tell me bedtime stories anymore. Every time I held her hand, wanting to spend more time with her, she would find all sorts of excuses to refuse me. “I said we need to avoid favoritism, so we have to be thorough. It’s the same at home; don’t let anyone see!” “I told you not to call me Mom at the hospital. I’m not your mom here; I’m the hospital director, do you understand, the director?” … Those painful memories flooded back. Even though I was dead. My heart, which no longer beat, felt like it had been brutally stabbed, bleeding with pain.

“Lily Vance, this is a hospital, not a place for your antics!” “I have many more appointments scheduled later. Can’t you be more sensible? How long are you going to keep faking death?!” Eleanor crouched down, yanked my hair, and pulled me up. But she saw dark blood mixed with my saliva flowing from my mouth. It dripped onto her clean hand. During the car accident, I was thrown out of the window, my body caught under the vehicle and actually run over by the wheels. My internal organs were severely damaged. I had been spitting blood the entire way to the hospital. Eleanor had germophobia, and I was afraid she would say I was dirty if she saw it, so I caught it all with my hands. Even though I was dead now, after such a huge impact, the blood accumulated in my chest still slowly flowed out of my mouth. “Ah—so gross, Lily Vance is so big, how is she still drooling? So shameful!” “She looks so ugly, so scary, like a monster!” Many children who saw me like this ran away in fright. Some family members passing by outside the door squeezed in to take a look. “Oh my God, what happened to this kid? She looks like she’s dying. What are these doctors even doing…” “What kind of shady hospital is this? Who just stands there and abuses someone who’s spitting blood instead of rushing to save them?” “I heard that woman is the director of this hospital. I can’t believe how she got the job.” “Shut up, all of you, shut up!” “She’s clearly faking it! Don’t spread rumors before you know the facts!” Eleanor listened to those voices, so angry she shoved me again. She didn’t notice at all that I had no breath left. “Lily Vance, are you happy now? You’ve ruined my reputation, are you satisfied?!” “Don’t think I don’t know you had a blood packet in your mouth!” “Besides, there were 18 people in that car, all of you riding together. Everyone else is fine, so why are you the only one looking half-dead?!” “Eleanor, I didn’t…” “Look at me carefully again, Eleanor, I’m dead! I’m really dead!” I never wanted to affect your work. These past few years, I’ve quietly persevered, even when my throat hurt so much I couldn’t speak, even when I was so dizzy I couldn’t walk. I never complained to you once. But this time, I really couldn’t hold on anymore. I was in so much pain. Even though I’m dead now, I still clearly remember. How much it hurt when those big wheels ran over me. “Lily Vance, you’re truly disgusting.” Eleanor pulled a few tissues from the desk and wiped her hands. “Why didn’t you just get run over and die like your animal of a father?” “Why do you have to keep tormenting me?” Eleanor was talking about my father, whom I had never met. He died in a car accident before I was born. Eleanor hated him so much because he had an affair with another woman while she was pregnant. Afterward, whenever she mentioned Dad, she would say it was his just deserts. But Eleanor, I really did die in this car accident. Only, unlike Dad, I never called another woman “Mom.” I didn’t betray you.

Leo still hadn’t left. Seeing that I remained unresponsive even after being hit, he approached me with curiosity. After all, every time he bullied me at school or badmouthed me, I would always stand up and fight back. Though the outcome was always the same. “Clown girl, stop faking it! I know you’re fine!” He said, reaching out to push me, but my head suddenly tilted, and all that blood smeared onto his hand. “Ah—Lily Vance, how could you be so gross? You did that on purpose!” Eleanor heard the noise and quickly turned around. “What’s wrong? What happened?” “Dr. Vance, Lily bit me! Look at my hand, she bit me until it bled!” “What?” Eleanor lunged forward again, grabbing my collar tightly, and delivered another slap. “Lily Vance, you finally couldn’t keep up the act! And you dare to bite people? I’ll beat you to death!” Eleanor, please stop hitting me. I didn’t! He’s lying! I didn’t bite him at all. I’m already dead! Half a minute later, a woman burst in. She picked up Leo, saying with concern. “Son, I finally found you! Are you okay?” “What happened? There’s so much blood on your hand!” Leo, red-eyed, choked with sobs, said. “Mom, she bullied me. She bit me just now…” The woman saw me and was instantly furious. She walked over and savagely kicked my body. My body rolled a few times inwards before stopping. After doing all this, she immediately pulled out her phone. “I’m calling the police right now! How dare you hurt my son? I’ll make sure you pay for this!” Eleanor, meanwhile, looked at me like I was trash, not saying a word. “Oh my God, this child, at such a young age, has such a malicious mind. I thought… I thought she was dead just now.” “I’ve truly lived long enough to see everything. Faking death? I’ve never seen anyone in such a hurry to die!” “I didn’t… I really didn’t…” That little boy is a liar! He’s lying! But no matter how I tried to explain, no one believed me. There were many police stations near the hospital. Within a few minutes, the police arrived. Seeing the police, the woman lifted Leo’s arm and began to accuse me of my supposed crimes. “Officer, this little monster just bit my son!” “Quickly check her! See if she has rabies or some kind of madness! What if she’s ruined my son?!” The officer understood the situation and, thinking I was a special patient, even put on gloves. He crouched down and, after finding no response from me despite calling out, his expression grew solemn. The woman behind him continued to complain. “Officer, have you confirmed it? If she really has some disease, you need to contact her family quickly and make them pay for my son’s medical expenses!” But the officer just asked coldly. “You just said, this little girl bit your son?” “Yes,” the woman grew agitated, “Just a few minutes ago! What kind of police are you? Don’t you know how to do your job?” “This is ridiculous!” “This little girl looks like she’s been dead for almost an hour! How could she possibly bite your son?!” “Don’t you know making a false report is a crime?!”

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I dated Liam Carter for seven years, until his first love, Serena Sterling, returned. When the earthquake hit, the chandelier came crashing down, and without a second of hesitation, he dove to save her first. I was hit, losing my memory. When I woke up, I looked at him and asked, “Who are you?” He looked at me and said, “I’m your brother.” I glanced at the guy standing next to him—his best friend—and told him: “Since you’re my brother, you have to help me pursue Julian Hayes.” He thought I was just playing hard to get, so he agreed. Until I pursued Julian all the way to the altar. Liam crashed the wedding reception like a rabid dog. I looked at him and said, “Brother, did you come to attend my wedding?” A wave of overwhelming grief washed over him, and he closed his eyes in agony. “Don’t call me brother. I’m not your brother. Aria, you belong to me. I forbid you from marrying anyone else.” 01 Liam broke his promise to accompany me to the awards ceremony. I was initially very disappointed, but thankfully, he called and told me to meet him at The Golden Lounge for a gathering. I thought he was throwing a celebration party for me. After all, I had just won the Best Actress award I had been dreaming of for years that night. It wasn’t until I arrived that I realized the party had absolutely nothing to do with me. It was a welcome-home party for Serena Sterling. She immediately came over and hugged me. “Aria, long time no see.” I nodded politely, pushed her away gently, and shifted my gaze to the man sitting on the sofa. I asked, “So, why did you break your promise today?” He paused mid-smoke, flicked his ash, and said nonchalantly, “Serena hasn’t been back in seven years. I just went to pick her up from the airport. Doesn’t the awards ceremony happen every year?” So, his broken promise was just to pick up Serena from the airport. A bitter mix of resentment and sorrow spread through my chest. Yes, the awards ceremony happens every year, but it took me seven years to finally hold that trophy. I wanted to share my joy with him the moment I received it. But the second I held the trophy in my hands… I searched the bustling crowd for his face, only to find him nowhere in sight. Do you know how disappointed I was? He didn’t care at all. On the scale in his heart, would I always weigh less than Serena Sterling? Even though I was the one who had stayed by his side for the past seven years. 02 Serena raised her glass to toast me. “I apologize on Liam’s behalf. It was all my fault that he missed your big moment. I’ll drink this as an apology.” I clearly saw the arrogance, triumph, and the joy of a victor hiding in her eyes. I didn’t take the glass. I scoffed, “He’s my boyfriend. What right do you have to apologize for him?” Serena’s hand, holding the glass, faltered slightly, looking a bit helpless. He was the first to stand up for her. “Don’t mind her, Serena. Aria, that’s enough. It’s such a small thing, why are you throwing a tantrum?” I turned to leave. Serena said pitifully, “Aria is mad. You should go after her. I don’t mind taking a little blame, just don’t let this ruin your relationship.” One of his friends couldn’t stand it anymore. “Talk to her nicely. She always compromises for you. This time, you’re the one in the wrong.” Liam crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, looking disdainful. “If she has a problem, she can stay out of my sight forever. Who knows why she always follows me around like a stray dog, refusing to leave even when I tell her to.” I quickened my pace to leave. He was right. In the past, I was almost always the one who compromised. He would just say a few sweet words casually, and my heart would soften. But this time, I didn’t want to anymore. 03 From that day on, Liam and I fell into a cold war, and I filled my life with work schedules. But news about him and Serena still found its way to me through every possible crack. The night of her welcome party, he spent over a million dollars displaying ads on all the high-rises in the city: 【Welcome home, Serena Sterling.】 He secured the role in renowned director Arthur Chen’s new movie, Ocean of Dreams, for Serena. That role was very likely meant to be mine. We were almost at the point of signing the contract, but the other party called two days ago to tell us they found a more suitable candidate. It turned out the more suitable candidate was Serena. She didn’t study acting; she studied piano. I have no idea why she suddenly came back wanting to be an actress. A role I had to struggle for eight years in the industry even to get an audition for, she took from me effortlessly with just one word from him. I originally thought that having reached my current position, I wouldn’t have roles stolen from me like when I first entered the industry. I never expected the one to deliver the crushing blow would be my boyfriend of seven years. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. My heart ached tremendously. He should know that all these years, acting was the thing I loved most besides him. I had poured so much of my blood, sweat, and tears into it. But he didn’t care. Or rather, because the other person was Serena Sterling, he felt he could hurt me without any hesitation. When my manager saw the news, she came to ask me about it. “What’s going on? Isn’t Liam Carter your boyfriend? Why is he stealing your role for someone else? Are you two fighting?” I stared at the words scrolling non-stop on the building outside: 【Welcome home, Serena Sterling.】 It stung my eyes, making them burn and ache. She came back, and he was so happy he wanted the whole world to know. I took out my phone and proactively sent him a message: 【I guess we’re broken up now, right?】 After all these years, I was tired too. I never thought I would be the one to say those words first. A heart that couldn’t be warmed after seven years should just stop trying. He didn’t reply. I laughed self-deprecatingly: “Maybe it is a breakup.” My manager patted my back to comfort me. “You’re just too stubborn. When you two were good, I told you to coax him for some resources, but you refused. Look now, as soon as she steps in, she gets a movie with a famous director.” “Forget it, if it’s over, it’s over. With your looks, it won’t be hard to find someone better.” “There’s a gala tonight. Maybe you’ll find someone suitable there.” 04 At the gala. When Liam made his entrance with Serena, many eyes turned to me, ready to watch the drama unfold. After all, my relationship with him was public knowledge. Usually, he would bring me to events like this. Serena stopped in front of me: “Aria, you look beautiful tonight. A lot of people are staring.” Liam’s eyes darkened. He glanced around and scoffed, “Not as beautiful as you.” I didn’t want to entertain their public display of affection, so I walked away. The gala was filled with prominent figures, including famous directors and producers. I wanted to exchange contact info with a few well-known directors in the industry, hoping they would think of me if they had suitable roles in the future. When I saw Director Chen, I still wanted to try and fight for a role in Ocean of Dreams. I loved that story of a shattered romance being pieced back together too much, and there were other roles yet to be cast. I walked over and had barely exchanged two sentences when Liam interrupted. “Don’t waste your breath. Serena doesn’t really like having acquaintances on set, so you won’t get a chance.” Didn’t like acquaintances? She wasn’t even in the industry. Wasn’t this clearly targeting me? I gripped my wine glass and took a large gulp. Trying hard to suppress the resentment in my heart and the urge to slap him across the face. The setting was inappropriate. I turned to leave, but Liam grabbed my arm. “Wait a minute. When you see Serena later, have a better attitude. She’s very upset because you ignored her.” I fought back the stinging in my eyes and said coldly, “Let go. I have no obligation to coddle her feelings.” He stubbornly held onto my hand, his face showing displeasure. Serena quickly hurried over, speaking to him in a reproachful tone: “I just went to the restroom for a second, and here you are bullying Aria again.” Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. I don’t know who shouted, “It’s an earthquake!” The guests began to scatter and flee in panic. The chandelier above us swayed precariously. The moment it started to fall. The hand gripping my wrist let go. Liam didn’t hesitate for a second to grab Serena and roll out of the way. The chandelier crashed down onto my head, blood turning my vision red. In the face of life and death, a person’s first reaction is their truest. Between saving me and saving her, he didn’t even hesitate for a fraction of a second, even though he was holding my hand. It really hurt. In that moment, the intense pain radiating from my heart far surpassed the pain in my head. The excruciating headache plunged me into unconsciousness. 05 When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. I opened my eyes to see a man wearing a white dress shirt. He had brown eyes, black hair, and was incredibly handsome. He looked like a noble Ragdoll cat. He was sitting with his legs crossed, reading a book. Hearing me stir, he looked over. When those alluring eyes met mine, I felt my heart racing. I blurted out: “Handsome, what’s your number?” He smiled. He looked even better. My heart beat faster. “Aria, stop messing around. Don’t we already have each other’s numbers?” “Aria, is that my name?” I realized my mind was completely blank. Aside from the handsome face in front of me, I knew absolutely nothing. The handsome man looked panicked. He immediately stood up: “Don’t wander off, I’m going to get the doctor.” After he left, another man walked in, holding a glass of water. He was also handsome, but his style was different from the first guy’s. He wore a sharp suit and had sharp, slightly brooding features. Looking at him, I felt an inexplicable sense of discomfort in my chest. Why were there so many handsome guys around me? His right palm was wrapped in bandages. He put down the water, looked down at me, and said faintly: “You’re awake?” I looked at Liam in confusion: “Who are you?” The corner of his mouth curved into a smirk, and no matter how I looked at it, that smile seemed to carry a hint of mockery. He said: “Why the sudden amnesia act? Don’t think this will get you back by my side.” “Do we know each other well? I really don’t remember anything, except that my name is Aria.” He leaned down slightly, closing the distance between us, and studied me for a moment: “If you want to act, I’ll play along.” He muttered something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch. “What?” He looked at me with zero seriousness and said: “I’m your brother.” The handsome guy returned with the doctor. He turned to leave. 06 The handsome guy said to my “brother”: “Liam, take good care of Aria. Stop running off to other people’s rooms. If you had waited any longer to treat Serena’s wound, it would have healed on its own.” He looked annoyed: “If you want to take care of her, you do it. Don’t you like hanging around her room anyway?” After my brother said that, he turned to leave the room. Before walking out, he glanced at me. Hurry up and leave so I can spend more time bonding with the handsome guy. Seeing me staring intently at him, he frowned, turned around, and left. Finally gone. Looking at him, I didn’t know why, but I felt extremely oppressed and suffocated. Could it be the natural sibling rivalry? After the doctor examined me, he said that apart from needing a dozen stitches on my head and some scrapes on my body, there were no other issues. I could be discharged after the stitches were removed in a few days. There were no blood clots in my brain. As for the amnesia, medical science doesn’t have a specific treatment for it yet. I just needed to stay in the hospital for one more day of observation, and then I could go home. They suggested taking me to places I used to live; maybe I would remember something one day. “Handsome, what’s your name? Tell me, so I can find you in my contacts.” “Julian Hayes.” My old phone was broken. The new phone did have Julian Hayes in the contacts. Strangely, Liam was pinned to the top. We must have a really good sibling relationship to put him there. Julian stayed with me all afternoon. Since I had just woken up, my head was still dizzy. I originally wanted to ask him about his interests, but I felt sleepy and dozed off. When I woke up again, Julian was gone, and Liam was there. I displayed a look of sheer disappointment. If I had known, I wouldn’t have slept. I should have seized the time to win over my crush. Liam stared at me, his brow furrowed, his tone dark: “What’s with that expression? Are you disappointed to see me?” “Brother, you and Julian are bros, right?” Otherwise, why would he take such good care of me? He paused for a moment: “What did you call me?” “You said you’re my brother. Since you’re my brother, you have to help me pursue Julian. My future happiness depends on you.” He took out a cigarette, looking frustrated and wanting a smoke. Perhaps remembering this was a hospital room, he eventually just rolled it between his fingers near his nose, inhaling the scent of tobacco. He lowered his voice. The fact that he couldn’t smoke seemed to make him unhappy. “Stop messing around. You’ll get yourself into trouble. Julian isn’t your type.” “He is. How could he not be? It was love at first sight for me.” I like tall, handsome guys with warm, beautiful smiles and dimples. He had it all. He let out a strange, low chuckle. Then he completely snapped the cigarette in his hand, scattering tobacco everywhere, and threw it into the trash can. “Fine, I’ll help you.” 07 When I was discharged, Liam asked Julian to drive me home. He had to accompany another girl named Serena Sterling to a film set. I walked up to Liam. Serena looked at me apologetically: “Aria, I’m so sorry. Liam has to come with me to the set. It’s my first time filming, and I’m really nervous.” I looked completely unbothered: “It’s fine. He wants to do it.” Anyone could see Liam was trying to pursue her. Why should I care? I turned to Liam, my face full of sincere joy: “Thank you. You really put a lot of thought into creating this opportunity for me to be alone with him.” His expression was dark and unpredictable as he gritted his teeth and said: “You’re welcome.” Just as I was about to get in the car, a swarm of reporters rushed out and surrounded us. I already knew I used to be in the entertainment industry and seemed to be doing quite well. But my manager said my schedules had been put on hold for a while to let me take a vacation. I could resume working once I felt better. The reporters’ microphones were practically shoved into my mouth. “Ms. Carter, regarding the earthquake that day when Mr. Carter saved Ms. Sterling first, what are your thoughts?” “Are Mr. Carter and Ms. Sterling dating? How long has it been? Do you know?” I didn’t understand why the media was so excited. And Liam—why was he glaring at me so intensely? His eyes were dark and unreadable, making me feel flustered. Even if I was his sister, I couldn’t morally blackmail him into saving me first. At most, he was just a bit disloyal. Was he afraid I would badmouth him in front of the media, making him look bad in front of the girl he liked? “Whoever he wants to save is his business. Whether they’re dating is something you should ask them, why ask me? It has nothing to do with me.” After hearing this, Liam clenched his jaw, looking like he wanted to punch someone. He silently mouthed at me, “Aria, you’re really something.” If you’re going to praise me, praise me. Why make it look like you want to hit me? He forcefully slammed the car door and left with Serena. I was trapped by the crowd, unable to move, trying to squeeze out and get into Julian’s car. “This is Mr. Hayes’s car. Is Ms. Carter getting a ride from Mr. Hayes?” “I came to pick her up from the hospital.” Julian arrived beside me, shielding me so I wouldn’t be knocked over by the media. “Surrounding a hospital like this will inconvenience other patients. I believe you media professionals wouldn’t be so lacking in basic decency.” Those two sentences forced the crowd to step back. When it comes to moral high-grounding, you’re the master, Julian. He knows exactly how to handle people. I love him even more now. 08 That evening, I dragged Julian into a co-op game lobby online, just as Liam came home. “Julian, I’ll play support, you play the carry.” “Okay.” I smiled brilliantly, following him around the whole game. If someone killed me, I complained to him. He chased them across the map to get revenge. “Julian, you’re so good at this game. Can you play with me more often? I want to rank up soon.” “Just call me Julian.” A shadow loomed over me. I looked up to see Liam blocking my view, his expression cold enough to freeze water. This guy never had a pleasant look on his face all day. So annoying. “Stop playing. I haven’t eaten.” I answered him dismissively: “It’s almost 7:30 and you haven’t eaten? I just saw some instant noodles in the cabinet. Go make yourself a bowl.” “I don’t eat instant noodles.” “Then order takeout.” He grabbed my phone, forcefully grabbed my shoulder, and pinned me against the sofa. “In the past, you would never let me eat instant noodles, saying it wasn’t nutritious. You wouldn’t let me eat takeout either, saying it wasn’t healthy. You would go out of your way to cook what I liked.” Wow, as a sister, I really played the role of a nagging mother. I saw my character in the game fall behind. I was about to die. I shoved Liam away and snatched my phone back. “Then stay hungry.” By the time the game finished, Julian said he had something to do and logged off. I looked at Liam clutching his stomach, leaning against the sofa, glaring at me fiercely yet with a hint of grievance. Like an abused wolfdog, his intimidating aura was much weaker. No, how could such a grown man feel so wronged just because he wasn’t fed? That look really didn’t suit him. But it wasn’t my problem. He wouldn’t starve to death. If he got hungry enough, he’d realize instant noodles might lack nutrition, but they fill the stomach. I got up, planning to go upstairs, shower, and sleep. “Aria, my stomach hurts.” Behind me, his aggrieved voice sounded. “Then order a delivery service to bring you some stomach medicine. I’m tired. I have a lunch date with Julian tomorrow.” Walking halfway, I turned to look at him. His eyes lit up. I said to him: “Thank you for telling him I like playing games. Later, can you also tell him what my favorite foods are?” He shivered on the sofa, lowered his eyes, and said to me in a hoarse voice: “I don’t know.” “Oh, well. I’ll just ask him myself. Getting to know each other might even improve our relationship.” He seemed to be in immense pain, his body curled up, the knuckles gripping the sofa turning white. 09 For lunch, I chose a private kitchen, which offered good privacy. We unexpectedly ran into Liam and Serena, who also came to this restaurant. Serena insisted we all eat together, saying it would be livelier. Liam didn’t object. As soon as she sat down, she pulled me into a conversation, showing her concern: “Aria, will that wound leave a scar on your head? They say hair never grows back where you get stitches.” I immediately reciprocated her concern. “I have plenty of hair, a little bald spot is fine. But you should be careful, sister. I just looked at you, and your part line is almost a finger wide. You should worry less and try not to lose any more hair.” Julian heard me and comforted me: “It won’t leave a scar. There are many techniques nowadays that can remove scars.” Liam, on the other hand, sat down and didn’t say a word. The waiter brought an iPad for us to order. I asked Julian: “Julian, what do you like to eat?” “Fish, no offal, I like spicy food. Nothing else special, anything’s fine.” “Then let’s get the signature sweet and sour fish, and a steamed fish head with diced hot peppers.” “You decide, I’ll pay.” “No way, I said I’m treating.” “Then I’ll treat next time.” I ordered a few of my favorites, then passed the iPad to Serena. She ordered while saying: “Aria, you and Julian seem to be getting along really well now. Isn’t that right, Liam?” Liam didn’t answer. I said: “Yeah, it feels like we’ve known each other forever. This might be that ‘imprinting’ thing. You feel especially dependent on the first person you see when you open your eyes.” Julian didn’t look too pleased. He commented: “You see me as your mother?” “How is that possible? You’re obviously a guy.” “Good.” Liam pushed his chair back, the sound grating. “Going out for a smoke.” Julian said he was going too. I sat for a while and felt like Serena and I really weren’t on the same wavelength. We had nothing to talk about, so I got up and went to the restroom to hide for a bit. At the corner, I saw Julian holding a cigarette, leaning against the hallway wall. He took a drag and tilted his head back to exhale the smoke. This was the first time I had seen him smoke. It was surprisingly sexy. He spoke: “Liam, you and Aria are broken up now, right?” Liam didn’t reply. The cigarette in his hand had burned down halfway. Only when it almost burned his fingers did he finally speak. “What do you mean by that?” “I want a straight answer from you. If you’re broken up, I’m going to pursue her.” Liam used his left hand to snuff out the cigarette butt, throwing it into the nearby trash can. He let out a low, cold laugh. His expression was indifferent, his tone arrogant. “If you don’t mind picking up my sloppy seconds, then go ahead.” Julian raised his hand and punched him right in the stomach: “It’s truly despicable how you insult a girl who dated you for seven years and poured her heart out to you.” Liam was hit hard and took a moment to recover before standing up and raising his hand to strike back: “Who the fuck are you to hit me?” But his hand was calmly caught by Julian: “Don’t make a scene. We still have to eat. If the media catches wind of this, it’ll look even worse. Since you personally admitted to breaking up with her, I’ll have her move out and stop contacting you.” After saying that, he shook off Liam’s hand, took the last drag of his cigarette, turned, and walked into the private room. 10 Having just heard two explosive pieces of news, I walked into the restroom feeling completely dazed. Liam wasn’t my brother; he was my ex-boyfriend. And Julian was actually planning to pursue me actively. It’s true what they say: the highest-level hunters often appear as prey. He was totally playing the long game. Liam saying he was my brother was clearly because he was afraid I’d keep pestering him and refuse to break up, which would interfere with his pursuit of Serena. No wonder every time I saw him, I instinctively felt uncomfortable. No wonder the media was so excited to ask me about their relationship that day. Turns out I was wearing a metaphorical green hat. No wonder Liam’s WeChat was pinned to the top. I must have really cared about every message he sent. The things in the mansion were all in pairs, looking like couple’s items. Turns out, they were couple’s items. Now, all these questions were answered. I washed my face to make myself look calmer before returning to the private room. They were all sitting in their original seats as if nothing had happened. When the food arrived, Liam barely touched it. Just as we finished eating and were getting up, he clutched his stomach and dropped to his knees on the floor. It must be his stomach pain flaring up again. Serena panicked, trying to pull him up and calling his name. I said: “Make a call. Call an ambulance.” Serena did as I suggested. I grabbed Julian and turned to leave, but my left hand was grabbed. I turned back to see Liam, kneeling on one knee, holding my hand. His face was as white as paper, his whole body trembling in pain. “You’re not going to accompany me to the hospital?” “Brother, no. You have Serena with you. I wouldn’t be much help if I went anyway. Julian and I have a movie to catch; it’s starting soon. We’ll be late if we delay.” While he was distracted, I pushed his hand away. I heard him whisper softly: “Before, if I was sick, you would be more anxious than anyone. Now you won’t even spare me a second glance.” Too bad for him, as he said, that was “before.” Now, I’ve forgotten. No matter how much pain he was in, I felt nothing. Like an outsider. 11 After the movie, as we were taking a walk, Julian was just about to hold my hand when his phone rang. I saw it was Liam calling. Julian didn’t answer, but Liam kept calling incessantly. When I finally answered, I heard him weakly say to me: “My stomach is bleeding.” I asked, slightly annoyed: “Is there anything else?” He was interrupting the progress of my romance. The other end of the line was silent for a long time: “Are you not coming to see me?” “There’s no need. I’m neither a doctor nor medicine. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” He breathed heavily, clearly furious, and roared: “Aria, if you have any guts, never contact me again.” I heard the sound of something crashing to the ground through the phone. Serena was crying out anxiously: “Liam, you’re on an IV! How could you kick the IV pole? You’re bleeding everywhere! Nurse…” I hung up the phone. My head throbbed briefly, and blurry images flashed before my eyes. It seemed I was sick and on an IV, constantly dialing a number. When the person finally answered, they just said: “I’m busy. Don’t bother me unless it’s important.” I asked him tentatively: “I’m sick, my head is spinning. Can you come see me?” He didn’t show a shred of concern: “If you’re sick, find a doctor. Don’t look for me, you’re delaying my street racing.” I held my phone, crying sadly. Thinking back to this, I felt moisture on my face. “Why are you crying?” Julian looked at me nervously, a bit helplessly reaching out to wipe my face. I just said: “My head hurts.” “I’ll take you to the hospital.” “No need, it’ll pass in a moment.” He offered to massage my head to help relieve the pain. When I felt better, he drove me back to the mansion. He said: “Although it feels a bit like taking advantage of your vulnerability now since you have no memories, and your reliance on me might just be because I was the first person you saw, I want our relationship to go a step further. I want to pursue you. I tried a long time ago, but I want to try again. Can I?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421043”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my husband, Preston Vance, practically handed me over to his twin brother, I finally realized that in our three years of marriage, this untouchable, elite heir had never once felt anything for me. The woman he loved was my older cousin. “I don’t love you. The family wants a child, so just have one with Parker,” he’d said. Yet, when I stood in front of him holding a positive pregnancy test, his eyes grew red. “Did you actually fall in love with my brother?” I didn’t answer. Behind me, someone knocked on the bedroom door. A lazy, arrogant voice drifted in. “Open up, sister-in-law. It’s me, your ‘husband’.” 01 For three years of marriage, Preston was ascetic and untouchable, never laying a finger on me. He claimed that his dedication to a stoic, disciplined lifestyle meant he couldn’t break his vows. So, I took the initiative to sleep in separate rooms, giving him space. Until his wild, rebellious twin brother, Parker Vance, returned from abroad. I accidentally overheard a conversation between the two of them. “Parker, you take my place and consummate the marriage with Chloe.” Preston’s tone was indifferent, as if he were casually mentioning a stranger. The next second, a lazy, slightly thuggish voice rang out: “Did all that meditating fry your brain? She’s not my wife. Wait a minute, could it be…” He paused for a moment, a hint of schadenfreude creeping into his voice: “Are you impotent?” Preston didn’t get angry. He sat calmly in his armchair, turning a jade signet ring on his finger: “I just feel nothing for someone I don’t love.” That simple sentence nailed me to the spot. Snap. The expensive pen Parker had been toying with suddenly snapped in half. He bent down to pick it up as if nothing had happened, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Oh? Is that so? If you don’t love her, who do you love?” Preston was silent for a moment. My heart rose into my throat. Until I heard him speak a name I was incredibly familiar with. “Serena Sterling.” My cousin, the one hailed as America’s sweetheart, who had abruptly announced her retirement from acting three years ago and immigrated overseas. Hearing that name, I couldn’t help but recall events from a long time ago. 02 Preston and I had known each other since we were kids. In middle school, he fell seriously ill and was sent to a private, secluded retreat to recover. We lost touch after that. We met again during our senior year of high school. He took the initiative to have someone bring me a letter. Opening the plain envelope, the boy’s elegant, sharp handwriting met my eyes. [It’s boring here.] Just four words. But for someone harboring a secret crush on Preston, it was like a spark lighting a prairie fire. I thought he was hinting for me to come visit him. So, as soon as school let out, I immediately packed my bags and went to the retreat to find him. When we met, Preston was dressed in simple, tailored clothes, his aura as cold and distant as ever. His gaze drifted behind me. “You came alone?” I didn’t notice the disappointment in his eyes. I sincerely pulled the letter from my pocket: “Didn’t you only write to me?” Preston froze, his brows furrowing slightly, but he quickly smoothed them out and turned to show me around the grounds. Ten minutes later, he brought me right back to the main entrance. “Alright, you’ve seen it. Go home.” I was caught completely off guard: “That’s it? Preston, can’t you…” “That’s enough,” he cut me off, rubbing his tired eyes. “My time for quiet reflection has arrived. I can’t keep you company.” “Oh…” I lowered my head in disappointment and turned to leave. But Preston spoke again. “Don’t come alone next time. It’s not appropriate for a man and a woman to be alone together.” Hearing the words “next time,” my disappointment vanished instantly. I even eagerly found an excuse for his coldness today. He was just being shy! So, the next time we met, I dragged Parker, who had just finished cello practice, along with me. On the drive up, he wore an incredibly annoyed expression on a face that was identical to Preston’s. “If you like him, just go by yourself! I don’t even like the guy…” Desperate for his help, I quickly tried to coax him: “Oh, come on! Tell me what kind of girl you like, and I’ll find one for you the second we get back down the mountain!” Parker stopped in his tracks, looked down at me, and then took three long strides up the steps, pulling away from me. The summer breeze carried his words to my ear. “I’m not telling you.” I scoffed and quickly chased after the boy in black carrying the cello case. “Fine, keep your secrets.” When we reached the entrance of the retreat, Preston was already waiting there. The moment he saw Parker beside me, his face darkened instantly. “Why did you bring him?” Before I could answer, Parker let out a cold sneer: “Got a problem with me being here?” Saying that, he bumped Preston’s shoulder with one hand in his pocket and walked right into the building. This trip was just as unpleasant. While Parker went to the bathroom, Preston stood next to me and said coldly: “Bring a girl next time.” I didn’t understand his logic: “Why? Are you sexist?” He was silent for a moment, then suddenly looked down at me: “Because I’m jealous. Is that a good enough reason?” I was hit so hard by his sudden, blunt confession that it took me a long time to recover. I thought my teenage crush had finally been reciprocated. I couldn’t wait to share it with my cousin, Serena Sterling, whom I was close with, and asked her to come with me next time. She didn’t refuse. That time, when Preston saw the two of us, his eyes lit up. At the time, I thought he was happy because I hadn’t brought a boy. Thinking back on it now, this giant iceberg only melted because he saw Serena. And I only discovered this truth after three years of marriage. I stood in the doorway of the study, my eyes involuntarily turning red. My heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, a dense, spreading pain. Preston… You clearly never liked me, did you? Then why did you marry me? 03 I sat on the sofa in a daze for a long time. Tears finally fell to the floor with a pat. I don’t know when Preston walked into the living room. He stood tall in the shadows, his quiet eyes exceptionally cold. After staring at me for a long time, he finally spoke in annoyance: “Are you done crying? If you’re done, I have some business to discuss with you.” I didn’t answer. I just haphazardly wiped the tears from my face, walked up to him, and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. But the next second, he shoved me away violently. My waist hit the corner of the table hard. It hurt a lot. But not even a tenth as much as the disgust in Preston’s eyes brought me. “Didn’t I tell you on our wedding day? My disciplined lifestyle means I can’t break my vows. Have you lost your mind?” “What if my cousin was standing in front of you?” Preston froze. Whatever he was thinking, his ears turned red as he gripped the jade signet ring in his hand tightly. He was aroused. But in front of me, he was still pretending. “Chloe, you’re being unreasonable. What goes on between us has nothing to do with her.” I punctured his lie directly: “How does it have nothing to do with her? Isn’t she the one you love?” He froze again, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes. “You heard?” Before I could answer, he let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Then I’ll just lay my cards on the table. “I don’t love you. “The family wants a child, so just have one with Parker. “He looks exactly like me anyway. It shouldn’t be hard for you to accept.” Every word was like a sharp blade, grinding away my love for him. His casual tone also told me just how laughable my fifteen-year-long crush on him really was. I looked up to wipe away the tears that welled up again, only to lock eyes with Parker, who was leaning against the railing of the second-floor hallway. Ever since I married Preston, Parker had gone abroad to study music. This was the first time we had seen each other in three years. He still had the same sharp, arrogant, and untamed look in his eyes as before. And I was nothing but a mess. Preston followed my gaze and saw his brother. He said expressionlessly to the other man: “I’ve already talked to Chloe. You can stay here tonight.” With that, he turned and left. He didn’t even spare me a glance. Ignoring the fact that Parker was still there, I went crazy and smashed the antiques in the living room to pieces. Finally, drained of energy, I slumped to the floor, covered my face, and sobbed bitterly. Parker walked downstairs and crouched beside me. “Want to keep smashing? I’ll buy new ones for you.” I shook my head through my sobs, forcing a smile through the heartache: “I’m sorry. We finally get to see each other, and you have to witness this. Where are you staying tonight? I’ll have the driver take you.” He stared straight into my eyes, his gaze unreadable: “Didn’t my brother tell me to stay here?” I froze, staring blankly at him. It took me a long time to find my voice. “You… you’re serious?” It was absurd! How could Parker agree to such a thing?! “Can’t I be?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone incredibly serious. I was so startled I scrambled backward: “Of course you can’t! I’m your sister-in-law!” Parker suddenly dropped to one knee on the floor, advancing toward me with intense aggression: “And so what?” I was so terrified I scrambled up to run, but he caught up to me and scooped me up around the waist. “Parker Vance! Have you lost your fucking mind?!” “Tsk, such a dramatic reaction? You looked too sad, I was just messing with you.” I paused. Being scared by him like that, I actually forgot to cry. He had already returned to his usual careless demeanor, gently placing me on the sofa. “Rest for a bit. I’ll clean this up.” Saying that, he poured me a glass of water. I caught sight of the tablet next to the sofa. It was Preston’s. As if possessed by a ghost, I grabbed the tablet. I entered Serena Sterling’s birthday. The tablet unlocked successfully. I opened his messages. Sure enough, Serena was his only pinned contact. The two of them were chatting right now. … Serena: [Is this really going to work? What if Chloe doesn’t get pregnant?] Preston: [She has to.] Serena: [I’m so sorry. I really didn’t expect that my body wouldn’t be able to handle a miscarriage…] Preston: [It’s fine. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have proposed to Chloe just to spite you. Now my parents love her so much, it’s hard to get a divorce.] Serena: [Boohoo, then it is your fault! That night was your fault too! I told you to buy condoms! You insisted it would be fine! Now look what happened!] Preston: [Don’t be mad, baby. It’s my fault. When Chloe’s child is born, I’ll immediately swap it with ours.] Serena: [Then when are you going to marry me?] Preston: [Baby, can you wait a little longer? My parents won’t agree to a divorce for a few years.] Serena: [Fine. So annoying! Hurry over here, I’m waiting to take a shower with you~] … Reading their chat logs, my face turned pale. No wonder. No wonder Preston suddenly proposed to me three years ago. No wonder he suddenly wanted a child. It turned out, it was all for Serena. They… had been together all along. At the same time, my phone vibrated. It was Serena. Serena: [Hey Chloe! I’m back in the country today! When should we hang out?] I didn’t reply to her. Instead, I looked over at Parker, who was sweeping the floor. The words Preston had said not long ago popped into my head. “He looks exactly like me anyway. It shouldn’t be hard for you to accept.” The same? They were completely different. Preston would never clean up the trash on the floor for me. Noticing my gaze, Parker walked over, raising an eyebrow in confusion: “Why are you looking at me? Not feeling well?” This was different too. Preston would never take the initiative to care about me. The tears I had just managed to stop flowed out uncontrollably again. He panicked instantly, fumbling to wipe my tears. “No, what’s wrong, my little ancestor? Why are you crying again? Stop crying. When I’m done cleaning up, I’ll go beat up my brother, okay? “And, to be brutally honest, if worse comes to worst, you can just find another guy. Haven’t you seen plenty of couples in our circle who only look married on paper? “There’s no need to hang yourself on a moron like my brother.” With him caring so much, all the suppressed grievances in my heart exploded. “I know all the logic! But it hurts so much. I liked him for fifteen years, why is he treating me like this?” Parker gently raised his hand and used his thumb to wipe away the tears at the corner of my eyes: “I get it. Later, I’ll take you for a drive to clear your head, okay?” He used to coax me like this in the past. He knew I loved the feeling of a breeze brushing against my face, so whenever I was sad, he’d ride his motorcycle and take me for a spin. I’d sit on the back and vent to him about everything. A lot of it was about Preston. I sniffled and shook my head: “Let’s go next time. I bumped my back on the table corner earlier. My lower back hurts.” He paused, instinctively reaching out to lift my shirt to check. But he stopped the moment he touched the fabric. “Can I take a look? If it’s serious, I’ll take you to the hospital.” He looked up at me. I fell unexpectedly into his eyes full of heartache, and subconsciously nodded. The hem of my short-sleeved shirt was lifted. A bruise was clearly reflected in Parker’s eyes. His hand, resting on the edge of the sofa, clenched tightly into a fist as he stared at the bruise for a long time. I felt an inexplicable warmth in my face and was about to pull my shirt down. Parker, however, voluntarily let go, stood up, and found some soothing oil from the first-aid kit. “Lie on your stomach.” I looked at Parker warming up his palms. After hesitating for a moment, I obediently lay face down on the sofa. The floor-to-ceiling window across the room reflected Parker’s movements. Tall and long-legged, he knelt on one knee beside the sofa, leaning over to gently lift my shirt. The next second, warmth hit the left side of my lower back. It was so hot that my skin instantly tightened, and I instinctively turned to dodge it. Parker looked up, his dark eyes locking with mine in the reflection of the window. “Does it hurt?” His voice was very hoarse. It made my ears feel inexplicably hot. I abruptly lowered my head, burying my face between my arms, playing along with his words, my voice muffled: “Yeah, you… be a little gentler.” Parker paused for a moment, then suddenly chuckled softly. I was about to ask him what was so funny. The sensation of being touched returned to my lower back. This time, I endured it and didn’t flinch. I just quietly gripped the throw pillow under my head. Gripped it so hard my knuckles turned white. Burying my head in the pillow, I lost my sight, and my other senses began to heighten, playing tricks on me. I felt the skin he touched instantly tighten, then relax under his kneading. I heard his breathing; it seemed heavier than usual. I smelled the faint scent of soap in the air, barely there, yet distinctly obvious. And every time he pressed down, the knee resting beside me gently brushed against the side of my thigh. The air seemed to grow thin. I was having trouble breathing. Until my phone rang jarringly. I felt like I was pulled out of the water. I fumbled to answer the call. It was Preston. “Don’t let Parker keep you up too late. We have to go back to the main estate for dinner tomorrow.” I tried my best to calm my emotions: “Okay, I got it… Ah—” The end of my sentence suddenly pitched up. I don’t know what crazy idea got into Parker, but the hand pressing on my lower back suddenly pushed down hard. “That hurts!” I turned my head and glared at him. “Can you be a little gentler?!” Parker put on an extremely innocent expression, blinked twice, and said: “I didn’t do it on purpose.” “You—” “Chloe.” Preston’s voice sounded again, a hint of undetectable anger hidden in his tone. “What are you and my brother doing?” I quickly realized he misunderstood something. But I had no intention of explaining. Isn’t this exactly what Preston Vance wanted? I chuckled softly, deliberately adding a touch of flirtatiousness to my voice: “What does it matter to you what we’re doing?” As soon as the words left my mouth, Parker suddenly leaned down, his chin almost resting on my shoulder. I instantly stiffened. I felt his breath against my ear. It tickled. “Don’t ask too many questions, bro. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of my sister-in-law.” Saying that, his fingers moved slightly, tickling the sensitive spot on my waist. I cursed under my breath and reached out to grab his wandering hand, accidentally scratching his forearm in the process. “Hiss—” Parker chuckled low. “Scratching now? You’re that wild?” My face flushed with shame and anger: “Shut up! I don’t want to hear another word from you!” Parker smirked, nodding carelessly: “Okay, okay, okay, I’ll shut up.” Except, he didn’t spare my ticklish spot. Making it impossible for me to speak a complete sentence. Preston remained silent, listening to his brother and me messing around. Eventually, I didn’t even realize when he hung up the phone. 04 The next morning, Parker insisted on making me breakfast, claiming he had mastered five-star chef skills while abroad. In the kitchen, the broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted man was bustling about in a pink apron, occasionally turning to make funny faces at me sitting on the sofa. Preston had never done these things for me. In front of me, he only ever wore a cold expression. So, I had never mistaken one for the other. They were completely different. “Hey, Chloe! Come try your brother’s freshly made century egg and lean pork congee!” “Coming.” I held my still slightly aching lower back and shuffled over. He handed the spoon full of congee directly to my mouth: “Taste it.” My raised hand paused mid-air. Ultimately, I put it down. I quickly drank the congee from the spoon, took a step back, and created some distance between us. “Uh… it’s pretty good, just seems to be missing salt.” The eager smile on Parker’s face instantly froze. After a brief half-second of silence, he seemed to realize that his claim to being a “five-star chef” had suffered a major setback. He could only scratch his head awkwardly: “I think I forgot the salt…” I was just about to comfort him. When he suddenly made a finger heart at me: “Because my love for you needs no words~” Even though it was incredibly cheesy, I couldn’t control the rush of heat to my brain. Right then, Preston came back. He stood in the entryway, his figure tall and slender, the white jade prayer beads dangling by his side swaying slightly. His gaze towards me was quiet and dark. Finally, his eyes landed on the hand I had resting on my lower back. “Liked me for fifteen years, and you immediately turn around and get with someone else? Chloe, you’re really something.” Hearing his inexplicable sarcasm, I found it somewhat amusing. So amusing that I couldn’t help but snap back. “You’re not dead yet. Are you expecting me to play the grieving widow for three years?” Preston went silent, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. I knew he misunderstood Parker and me, but I didn’t explain. Instead, I chuckled and pounded my lower back, intentionally misleading him: “Besides, isn’t this what you wanted? If I actually get pregnant, do you think the baby will call you ‘Dad’ or ‘Uncle’?” I don’t know which word struck a nerve with Preston, but his face darkened, and the look in his eyes became exceptionally gloomy. Parker silently wrapped an arm around my waist, his clear, bright eyes curving slightly. He smirked carelessly and arrogantly: “Just call him ‘Dad.’ Anyway, according to my brother, we look exactly the same. In the future, you can see the kid on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I’ll see the kid on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We’ll alternate Sundays. How about that?” Preston lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting a shadow under his eyes, making it impossible to read his emotions. “Suit yourself.” He dropped that cold sentence and turned to go to the study. I patted Parker’s hand, which was still resting on my waist: “The act is over. You can take it back now.” To my surprise, he suddenly tightened his grip, pulling me tightly against his chest. I raised my hands against his chest to push him away, but it was useless. The only use was feeling his pectoral muscles. “I helped you put on a show; shouldn’t I get a little reward?” He lowered his head, his face very close to mine. I subconsciously held my breath and started to stutter: “Wh-what kind of reward?” “I’ll be your model. Draw a portrait for me.” I froze instantly and forced a dry laugh: “Pick something else. I haven’t painted in a long time…” Not since five years ago. Actually, There was one time. For Serena’s twenty-fifth birthday. She insisted on being my model, begging me to paint her beautifully, saying it was just to commemorate our family bond and friendship. I repeatedly refused. But she pouted and said pitifully: “Chloe, do you not see me as a good sister anymore?” I was momentarily speechless. Preston, who was sitting quietly beside me folding origami cranes, suddenly looked up at me, his tone as cold as ever: “It’s just a painting. What are you refusing for?” I pursed my lips and eventually agreed. And I set a condition: Do not post it online. Who knew that the very night I finished the painting, I’d be trending. Serena posted the painting on Twitter with the caption: [Thanks for the birthday gift, Chloe~ Love it~] I had hidden myself away for so long, only to be forcibly dragged back into the public eye by her. People immediately dug up my past, calling me a plagiarist and telling Serena to stay away from me. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. You painted it so beautifully, I really couldn’t resist posting it on Twitter. Boohoo,” Serena apologized, holding my hand and swinging it. I lowered my eyes, looking at her hand clasped over mine. For the first time, I spoke harshly to her. “I’m in a bad mood right now. Can you please get the hell away from me?” Serena stood frozen on the spot. I turned and went home. But the moment I opened the door, I was met with a barrage of curses from my father and stepmother. “Why do you have to go show off? Do you think being able to paint makes you special? If I had known you would bring me so much shame, I should have broken your hands back then!” “Chloe, your dad worked so hard to suppress that plagiarism scandal back then, and now you’re stirring up this kind of trouble again. Do you think our family has money to burn? You really don’t know the value of a dollar…” … Word by word, sentence by sentence, they beat down on my spine. Pressing me down until I bent over, bit by bit. The pride and liveliness of the former wealthy heiress were chipped away. It felt like I became completely quiet from that day on. When Preston saw me again, he even raised an eyebrow in rare surprise: “You’ve changed a lot.” I smiled: “I have no choice. I can’t keep bringing shame to the family like before.” Later, because of family obligations, I made up with Serena. Just without the enthusiasm I used to have. 06 Now that Parker brought up painting again, I subconsciously tried to avoid it. But he looked at me earnestly, his dark eyes seeming to hide the stars in the sky. “Chloe, you said you were going to be a great painter.” “But…” I blinked, suppressing the stinging in my eyes. “I’ve been nailed to the pillar of shame as a plagiarist…” “I don’t believe you plagiarized. “Back then, the designer who accused you of plagiarism vanished without a trace, but someone transferred three million dollars to him. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence. “Chloe, you did nothing wrong. “I found his address a few days ago. Want to go see him?” Hearing the certainty in his tone, I finally couldn’t hold back my tears. The grievances hidden for five years burst forth in that moment. So, someone did believe me. In the end. I agreed to paint a portrait for Parker. But not now. He said: “Wait until the day your name is cleared, and I’ll be the first one you paint.” 07 At noon, we went back to the main estate for lunch. Mrs. Vance brought up her desire for a grandchild again. My heart trembled, and I subconsciously looked at Parker, who was playing chess with Mr. Vance not far away. In front of the elders, he sat upright before the chessboard, lacking some of his usual laziness. Only his slender fingers resting on his thigh, holding a smooth black chess piece, gently rubbing it. As if possessed, I remembered the sensation of his slightly calloused fingertips accidentally brushing against my waist last night. Suddenly, he looked up, glancing in my direction, and gave a very subtle raise of one eyebrow. I suddenly snapped back to reality, my ears turning red, looking everywhere but at him. But I accidentally met Preston’s gaze watching me. If it were in the past, I would have happily stared right back at him, but now I subconsciously frowned and looked away. He instantly gripped his prayer beads tighter. 08 After lunch, Parker followed us back home. But he was stopped at the door by Preston as we entered. “Your house isn’t here.” Parker simply shoved past him, walked in, and stood beside me, curling his lips into an innocent smile: “I know! But I have to keep my sister-in-law company! Did you forget? You said it yourself yesterday, telling my sister-in-law to have a baby with me.” Preston fell silent. He just stared at me. And I obediently looped my arm through Parker’s and waved at him: “Go play outside. Don’t bother the two of us.” Two seconds later, Preston left. He slammed the door so hard it rattled. It rattled me so much I stood frozen in place for a moment. Was he angry? But wasn’t this what he wanted? After a brief moment of absentmindedness, Parker called me over, having booked flights for us to go abroad. I planned to meet Julian Smith, the designer who reported me for plagiarism, one more time. But when we got there, we found out that Julian Smith had died in a car accident a few days ago. They couldn’t save him. I stood at the hospital entrance for a long time, the cold foreign wind blowing against my face, stinging painfully. The next second, Parker turned sideways, standing in the wind’s path, shielding me from the breeze. “It’s okay. There must be another way.” I nodded, letting the wind blow my long hair into a mess. The moment my vision blurred, I felt like I was briefly separated from this world. Until a voice called out, “Mr. Vance.” Parker and I turned our heads and saw a middle-aged woman standing not far away. It was Julian Smith’s wife. I silently pulled my mask up higher. She jogged over and bowed to Parker, looking anxious but grateful as she blurted out: “You didn’t answer my calls, I thought you weren’t coming. You’re our family’s benefactor. Julian kept saying he wanted to see you one last time before he died, but he didn’t get to. He’s probably crying down there…” Parker stood there, a bit bewildered. But he quickly recovered. His gaze became cold and distant, and his posture lost some of its casualness. In a daze, I almost called out “Preston.” He looked so much like him… Julian Smith’s wife paused, carefully glancing at Parker, then said: “Since Julian passed away, we don’t have much money left. Living in a foreign country is really hard for me and the kids. Mr. Vance, could you perhaps give us another three million to help us out?” Parker lowered his eyes, staring at her coldly without saying a word. But the pressure was intense. She anxiously rubbed her hands together: “Mr. Vance, it’s okay if you don’t help us, but some things Julian left behind might end up in the hands of your wife, Chloe. It might get a bit ugly then.” Hearing my name, I froze, my heart growing colder inch by inch. Preston… what the hell did you do behind my back? “Money isn’t an issue,” Parker’s voice suddenly deepened, carrying a hint of displeasure. “But this is the last time. Give me the things, and I will destroy them myself.” “If you dare keep a backup, I won’t hesitate to send you down to keep Julian company.” “Of course, of course, but I need to see the money first.” Parker narrowed his eyes and let out a cold scoff: “Don’t try to reason with me. I don’t like killing people.” Perhaps remembering the power behind the Vance family, Julian Smith’s wife struggled for a moment before finally taking a step back: “Fine, I’ll give it to you now, but you absolutely cannot break your promise.” “Mhm.” After a few seconds of hesitation, she pulled out a USB drive. Parker plugged the USB drive directly into his phone and checked the files inside. They were phone recordings and chat logs. Suddenly, Julian Smith’s wife let out an “Huh”: “Mr. Vance, why aren’t you carrying your prayer beads today?” Parker’s fingers paused, then without even batting an eye, he said four words simply and flatly. “It’s cold. Hands freeze. “The three million will be transferred to your account tomorrow. Make sure you stay hidden abroad.” Dropping that sentence, Parker turned around swiftly and left. I hurried to follow him. Hearing that last sentence, Julian Smith’s wife’s mind was completely occupied by the money. Her doubts vanished, and she even enthusiastically saw us off. On the way back to the hotel, I listened to the recordings on the USB drive. In them, Preston told Julian Smith: “Three million. Don’t bother Serena Sterling ever again, or I don’t mind killing you.” In another, Serena told Julian Smith: “I’ve sent you all of Chloe’s drafts. Tweak them a little and publish them immediately. Make sure it causes a big scene.” … I sat on the bed, staring blankly. The recordings I had just heard echoed in my ears. My chest felt tight. Serena… why did you do this? Preston, how did I ever wrong you? It wasn’t until Parker knocked continuously on my door that I was pulled from my sorrowful thoughts. I opened the door. He stood outside with a worried look on his face, assessing me. Seeing I was fine, he let out a soft sigh of relief. “I thought you’d be hiding in your room crying.” I blinked my somewhat dry eyes and forced a bitter smile, saying nothing. Cry? I felt too awful. So awful that I couldn’t even cry anymore. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. You should go back to sleep. We have a flight to catch tomorrow.” Parker looked at me for a good while longer before taking a half step back and pointing behind him: “Is my brother really going back?” His words made me laugh: “Go back. Goodnight!” Only then did he turn around and leave, feeling reassured. But the next second, I suddenly grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Thank you.” He didn’t look back. “No need to thank me. A brother protecting his sister is just the way things should be.”

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