Category: English

The day of my C-section, my husband, Simon, burst into the operating room. Defying doctors and my family, he violently pulled me out. “Iris, you can’t have this baby!” he yelled, his voice strained. “If you want to live, come with me!” I had no idea what had gotten into him. But he was holding a knife, and I was too terrified to resist. I just let him drag me onto a train. Later that afternoon, a notification popped up on my phone, and my blood ran cold. Within ten minutes of us leaving the hospital, every single pregnant woman in that hospital—except for me—was dead! My face went ashen. I tried to ask him what the hell was going on, but he just pointed to the window behind me, a look of pure terror on his face. “Don’t look back! We have to get off this train, now!” 1 Simon and I had been married for almost three years. He was even more excited about this baby than I was. He’d even booked my C-section himself. But now, he’d suddenly changed his tune, forbidding me from having the child? Seeing the fruit knife in his hand, I was scared rigid. “Simon, do you even know what you’re doing?” I whispered, trying to reason with him. He glanced nervously at the doctors and nurses around us. “Iris, I’m perfectly clear-headed!” he insisted, his voice low and urgent. “If you want to live, you absolutely cannot have this baby today!” My father, hearing the commotion, rushed in, furious. He raised his cane, ready to strike Simon. “What in God’s name are you thinking? You won’t let Iris have the baby? Do you want her to die, taking the child with her?” Simon glared at my father like he was the enemy. “I’m saving her!” My mother’s face flushed crimson. “Simon Hayes, I’ve already called the police! If you don’t want to go to jail, just…” She didn’t finish her sentence. Simon shoved her aside and pulled me towards the operating room. “Mom!” I cried, seeing her fall to the floor. I tried to wrench my hand free, but he held me tight, his expression grim. “I’m your husband! I wouldn’t hurt you! Come with me!” He completely disregarded my pregnancy, dragging me forward with all his might. Only when we were safely on a train did he finally relax. Fuming, I slapped him. “Simon Hayes! You’d better explain this to me, or we’re finished!” The chill in his eyes slowly receded, but a hint of vigilance remained. “Iris, don’t ask why. Knowing too much won’t do you any good.” Our argument quickly caught the attention of a flight attendant. He glanced at my belly. “Ma’am, you’re very pregnant! You shouldn’t be getting angry right now!” As soon as he spoke, countless passengers turned their heads, openly staring at my swollen belly. “What are you looking at?!” Simon snapped, pulling my hand tighter. He then led me towards another carriage. I could tell he was terrified. He seemed so afraid of anyone discovering I was pregnant that he even took off his trench coat and tied it around my belly. “What are you so afraid of?” I couldn’t help but ask him. He shushed me, his voice bone-chillingly cold. “Shhh, don’t talk! Don’t ask why!” My phone suddenly rang, its jingle jarring in the quiet carriage. Simon pulled out his phone, and his face instantly turned ghostly white. I leaned in to look, and my blood ran cold. ‘Local Maternity Hospital: 208 Pregnant Women Die Mysteriously from Cardiac Arrest…’ Wasn’t that the maternity hospital Simon had dragged me from just moments ago? Simon had been telling the truth! Besides me, all 208 pregnant women at the hospital today had died! I snatched the phone, frantically scrolling through the photos in the post. Only when I saw the body of my best friend, Chloe, did I finally break down crying. Just before my surgery, she’d been cheering me on, and now she was a cold, lifeless corpse. Trembling, I grabbed Simon’s collar. “What the hell is going on? Why did they all die?!” 2 He looked utterly tormented, unwilling to answer my question. He just kept apologizing. “Iris, I’m sorry! I couldn’t save that many people.” I wanted to call my parents, to ask them what was happening. The next second, their call came through. “Iris! Are you okay? Where are you? We’ve been worried sick!” I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Dad! Mom! I’m okay!” “I saw the news! Chloe died, and all the other pregnant women at the maternity hospital. Do you know why?” My dad’s voice, full of confusion, came through the phone. “Iris, what are you talking about? Chloe just gave birth, she and the baby are perfectly fine! All the other mothers are okay too!” After he spoke, someone else snatched the phone. “Iris, it’s Chloe. You need to tell Simon to bring you back right away! You can’t delay having this baby!” I was certain it was Chloe’s voice! She really wasn’t dead. But what about the news photos I’d seen earlier? I was about to ask Chloe when Simon quickly snatched my phone. “They’re lying to you! Don’t trust anyone!” Lying to me? I tried to find the news story again, searching frantically, but it was nowhere to be found. The article seemed to have vanished, as if it had all been a trick of my mind. Simon looked surprised, too, but quickly regained his composure. “It’s all a hoax! Iris, the only person you can trust is me!” I had no idea what he was talking about. All I wanted to do at that moment was get off the train. But the train entered a tunnel, plunging the carriage into darkness. “Iris, you can’t get off this train! And you can’t go back! Because…” He stopped mid-sentence. I looked at him and saw his face had turned ghostly pale again. “Simon! What’s wrong?” His eyes, wide with terror, were fixed on something behind me. Through his constantly shrinking pupils, I could faintly make out a blurry shadow. But there was only a window behind me. Was there something outside the window that had frightened him? Out of instinct, I wanted to turn my head to look. But Simon reached out and pressed my head forward. His lips trembled, and he spoke in a voice I’d never heard before. “Don’t look back, run!” I could distinctly feel his hand shaking; he was clearly terrified. At the same time, a cold draft blew across the back of my neck. The next second, he pulled me from my seat. He dragged me, running, without stopping even when he bumped into several people. Only when the train fully emerged from the tunnel, and light appeared above us, did he slowly stop. But his hand was shaking even more violently. I looked up and realized that all the passengers in the train were staring at me with strange eyes. More precisely, they were staring at my belly. It was a blank, lifeless gaze. They weren’t doing anything, but I instinctively felt a chilling dread. As if at any second, they would rush towards me. Thankfully, the train pulled into a station, and Simon immediately pulled me off. Once we were off the train, that strange sense of fear dissipated. I looked at Simon. “Simon, what did you see just now?” His expression of extreme terror was still vividly etched in my mind. It felt as if we would have died a horrible death if we had been even a second slower. What was he so afraid of? What was he hiding from? Was it that blurry black shadow? He didn’t answer me. He just hailed a taxi. “It’s not safe on the ground anymore. We’re going to the airport.” I was pushed into the taxi again. On the way, the driver struck up a conversation. “Ma’am, you’re in great shape! I saw you from a distance, running with that big belly, and you’re perfectly fine now!” His words made me realize something. Ever since Simon had dragged me out of the hospital, I’d been running as if my life depended on it. But as the driver said, I hadn’t felt the slightest discomfort. This baby seemed unnervingly resilient. 3 Every time the baby was mentioned, Simon became incredibly sensitive. He warned the driver, “It’s none of your business. Don’t pry.” Just as he finished speaking, my mother’s call came in again. I reached for my phone, but Simon, sitting beside me, turned and warned me, “Don’t answer! We can’t trust anyone right now!” The driver shot us a strange look. I ended up not answering the call. But a minute later, Chloe called me. Simon glared at me again. “Don’t answer!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I started arguing with him in the car. “Simon, what do you even want? You won’t let me have the baby, you won’t let me go home, and now you won’t let me contact anyone?” “That news report…” He looked at me, his expression grim, about to speak. But then, a deafening explosion ripped through the air behind us! I turned to look, and saw the train we had just gotten off had derailed, crashing into a mountain. “This…” The shockwave from the explosion rushed towards us, making the driver stomp on the accelerator. I was still reeling from the immense shock. But then, Simon’s chilling voice echoed in my ears. “That’s why.” “Everyone who looks back dies! We must never look back.” If the news report earlier had been a figment of my imagination, then this train crash, right before my eyes, was undeniably real. We drove in silence until the taxi safely pulled into the airport. Then, I suddenly realized. “We need to call the police! How can we just run when something so big has happened?!” The driver gave me a scrutinizing look. “Ma’am! What happened that requires calling the police?” “The train crashed into the mountain just now! Didn’t you see it?” He furrowed his brow, then said something that made my blood run cold. “Ma’am, are you having a nightmare? We came out of the train station a while ago, and nothing happened on the way here.” His expression was natural, not at all like he was lying. So he didn’t remember? But it had only been twenty minutes! How could he suddenly have amnesia? I looked at Simon beside me; his face was still pale and drawn, but he showed no intention of speaking. Something this big had to be in the news. I pulled out my phone again, frantically searching for information about the train. Nothing? I directly dialed 911. I told them about the accident with the train. But the police’s explanation was exactly the same as the driver’s. He even warned me not to make false reports or spread rumors! I was utterly desperate! What the hell was going on?! “Ma’am, you don’t look so good! You’re heavily pregnant; maybe you should go to the hospital?” the driver said kindly, glancing at my belly. Simon, as if not in control, shoved the driver and quickly pulled me towards the airport entrance. My phone in my pocket rang again. This time, it was my mother-in-law. Simon just glanced at it, then, with a look of fear, threw my phone into a trash can. Not just mine, but his own too. No tickets were available at this hour. I don’t know how he managed it, but he secured two tickets for a flight taking off in ten minutes. The destination was the Himalayas! “What are we doing going to the Himalayas?”

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The A-list actor suddenly announced his secret marriage and a child. Twitter exploded. And my world went green with envy. Secretly married to Liam Blackwood for three years, how could I not know if we had a child? Consumed by fury, I immediately signed up for a dating reality show, seeking my second chance at love. But to my utter shock, the very next second, #ActorBringsKidToDatingShow instantly became the top trending topic. 1 Twitter crashed. #LiamBlackwoodUnlockedDadStatus #LiamBlackwoodSecretMarriageChild #AnotherKidInShowbiz The trending topics exploded. Liam Blackwood’s sudden announcement caught everyone off guard. “What the hell?!” “Ahhh, what’s going on?! I thought it was a Photoshopped image, but it’s real! My hands are shaking, help!” “Unbelievable.” Netizens were buzzing, mostly with well wishes. After all, Liam Blackwood had maintained a low profile with no scandals since his debut, never cultivating a single status persona. Just as everyone was forwarding their blessings and digging for information about the wife… Little did they know, the wife herself had been staring at his official tweet for five full minutes. For a moment, I even wondered if I was dreaming. The wife was me, yet it also felt like it wasn’t. Secret marriage? That part was true. But a child??? As Liam Blackwood’s legal wife of three years, how could I not know if we had a child? It felt like I’d been cheated on. Not sure, let me check again. Given his past behavior, what if his “son” referred to a cat or a dog? But fate, it seemed, was thoroughly displeased with me for making excuses for a man. The hashtag #LiamBlackwood’sSon’sFacePhoto quickly shot up to the third spot on the trending list, right before my eyes. Seeing the child’s photo, I really couldn’t deceive myself anymore. He and Liam Blackwood’s faces were practically carved from the same mold. And judging by his height, the child was probably around four years old. So, Liam Blackwood had cheated on me before we even got married?! I pursed my lips, wanting to cry. But a woman doesn’t shed tears lightly; why cry for a jerk? I looked up, blinked hard, and blocked all contact methods for that scumbag. After a moment of silence, I still couldn’t calm down. I unblocked Liam Blackwood, then dialed his number. He picked up instantly. I started with a cold laugh, then launched into a machine-gun tirade, rapid-firing insults. “You scumbag! You had a child and still lied to me.” “You look like a decent human being, but I never saw your true rotten nature! You really can’t judge a book by its cover!” “Divorce! The assets are mine, you leave with nothing!” “Yolanda, let me expl—” “Get lost!” Without giving the jerk time to react, I slammed the phone down and blocked him again. Explain? More like make excuses! Just as I was consumed with rage, another call came in. “Miss Dawson, hello. I’m a staff member from the ‘Finding My Spark’ show. You declined us once before, but we’d like to try again. Would you reconsider?” Finding My Spark? I remembered it. It was a dating show where six single contestants would live together in a villa for a month. I had declined before because I was married. But now… Heh, I was going to find my second spring. 2 I tossed the signed divorce papers aside and packed my bags that very night. The dating show was live-streamed, starting at 7 AM and ending at 9 PM. Before the show began, all electronic devices were confiscated. The excuse was to prevent being disturbed by online information and to encourage us to show our true selves. The first season of the show had been a huge success, so when this season’s live stream started, a massive audience poured in. “Here we are, here we are~” “Hoo-hoo-hoo, new couples to ship!” I was the last to arrive. After entering the villa, I greeted the other contestants first. “Hello everyone, my name is Yolanda Dawson, and I’m a writer.” “Wow wow wow, a beauty! So pretty!” “Ahhh, it’s Yolanda! She’s on a dating show too!” “Who’s Yolanda? Am I out of the loop?” “To the person above, Yolanda is a best-selling author! ‘Addiction,’ which was a massive hit online, was written by her. Super impressive!” “I know that one! So it’s her!” As the comments scrolled, the viewers seemed to notice something. “Why does it look like there’s another guest outside?” “Holy cow! It’s Liam Blackwood!” The newcomer was tall and slender, with handsome features. His cool, pale skin contrasted sharply with his all-black attire, creating an unmentionable allure. What was even more jaw-dropping was that he was holding a child’s hand?! “Hello everyone, I’m Liam Blackwood, a contestant.” This time, not only the comments section but the entire internet exploded. #ActorBringsKidToDatingShow immediately topped the trending list. “Ahhhhh, it’s really Liam Blackwood! He’s on a dating show?!” “Liam Blackwood is married with a kid, why is he on a dating show? Isn’t this cheating?!” Facing the online debate, Liam Blackwood’s studio quickly responded: “Mrs. Blackwood, due to some misunderstanding, impulsively joined this dating show. Mr. Blackwood is simply here to pursue his wife. Everyone, please don’t worry.” “My whole family is shocked; you can play it like this?!” “Hahaha, Mrs. Blackwood is amazing!” “First time seeing something like this, interesting, rushing to watch the live stream.” “There are three girls on the dating show, who is Liam Blackwood’s wife?” Regardless of the uproar online, we, who were filming the show, knew nothing. The moment I saw Liam Blackwood, I froze. I knew he was bold. But I never imagined he’d come directly to the dating show, and with a kid, no less? When I snapped back to reality, I casually lifted my gaze, only to find Liam Blackwood looking at me with an unreadable expression. I involuntarily swallowed, discreetly shifting my gaze, then suddenly met the eyes of the child next to him. The child’s eyes lit up, looking eager, and at the same time, a premonition of dread washed over me. My inner self screamed, Don’t come over here! But often, what you fear most comes true. Next, the child flashed a big smile at me, pattered over to me, and in a loud voice declared: “Mommy!” 3 Time instantly froze; the entire world fell silent. My mind was a blank. Suddenly, one of the guests’ water glasses slipped from their hand, clattering to the floor with a “thud.” Instantly, the room erupted. “!!!” “Is it Yolanda?! Is it?! Is it?!” “Ahhh, it is! You can tell from the same frame that the kid looks a lot like Yolanda!” All eyes were on me. Under everyone’s gaze, I forced a smile, crouched down to be at eye level with the child, and was just about to speak. His eyes darted around, then he said, “Daddy said that the person I like best here is my mommy, and I like you best here.” “Oh, and my name is Sam!” Then he paused, his face turning slightly red, shyly glanced at me, and continued, “You can call me ‘sweetheart’ too.” My face stiffened. Although the child was adorable, the comments section was going wild. “Ahhh, is Yolanda the wife or not??” “I don’t know, they seem kind of unfamiliar.” “Yolanda = favorite person = mommy = YES!” Ultimately, Sam’s pleading gaze softened my heart, and I couldn’t resist pinching his cheek. After all, children are innocent. I gently smiled, and as I uttered the first syllable of “sweetheart,” I was pulled to my feet. Seeing it was Liam Blackwood, I immediately pulled my hand away, stepping back to put some distance between us. His hand hung in mid-air, his eyes dim. Now he was trying to act all affectionate? I carelessly shifted my gaze and noticed Sam glaring angrily at him. Oh, Liam Blackwood wasn’t even favored by his own son. “The staff said it’s getting late and asked us to sit down and talk.” The man looked at me. “Alright.” With that, I pulled my luggage and walked towards the living room. I made no move to wait for them. This scene made the comments section fall into deep thought. “…Did my memory fail me? I didn’t see any staff here.” “I didn’t either! Liam Blackwood is so sneaky, interrupting Yolanda because he doesn’t want her to call his son ‘sweetheart’?” “The studio said the wife came to the dating show because she was angry. Yolanda seems to dislike Liam Blackwood, so I think she’s the wife!” “Don’t be so sure, maybe she’s just trying to avoid suspicion?” I found a small sofa and sat down. Liam Blackwood followed and sat next to me. I rolled my eyes internally. So many seats, and he had to squeeze in with me. I pressed my eye sockets, telling myself to endure it. I absolutely couldn’t expose my relationship with Liam Blackwood; we were getting divorced anyway. Once everyone was seated, the director began to read the show’s schedule. “Rooms have been assigned. Please unpack your things and then gather here again.” My room was on the second floor; I had to carry my luggage up the stairs. As soon as I pushed my suitcase to the bottom of the stairs, Liam Blackwood picked it up. He was smiling at me, “I’ll help you.” I didn’t refuse, simply offering a polite “Thank you.” His smile froze, his pupils trembled slightly, looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. I raised an eyebrow, having already expected this reaction. After all, I had never been so polite to him before. 4 By the time I finished unpacking, it was almost evening. On the first day of the show, the production team was generous, providing plenty of ingredients. We just had to cook ourselves. Everyone divided tasks: those who could cook, cooked; those who couldn’t, helped out or washed dishes after dinner. I couldn’t cook, but I used to help Liam Blackwood often, so I had some experience. In the end, two people were chosen to cook: Liam Blackwood and a female contestant. Two people were chosen to help: me and another male contestant. I originally wanted to help the female contestant, planning to stay away from Liam Blackwood. But the director, who had disappeared, suddenly reappeared. He forcibly mandated that teams had to be one male and one female. I had no choice but to go to the area Liam Blackwood was responsible for. He worked very efficiently, and it seemed like there was nothing for me to do to help him. I just stood there, staring at his back. “Yolanda, grab a spoon.” “Okay.” I instinctively responded, handing the spoon to Liam Blackwood. Then I went back to staring at his back. The comments section couldn’t keep quiet. “Ahhh, Yolanda! He called her Yolanda!” “The key is how naturally Yolanda responded!” “Their movements are so practiced! If they’re not a couple, I’ll wash my hair standing on my head!” After what felt like ages, dinner was finally ready. I was already starving, my stomach rumbling, and eagerly rushed to serve the dishes. “Ouch!” My hand pricked on something, and it started to bleed. Hearing the sound, Liam Blackwood quickly came over to me. “What’s wrong?” Before I could speak, he spotted the bead of blood and grabbed my finger. He was going to… My pupils contracted, and I quickly pulled my hand away, popping my finger into my mouth first. I mumbled, “I’m fine.” Then I ran off. “Ahhh, screaming chicken emoji.” “Ahhh, ahhh, he wanted to suck it! Why didn’t she let him suck it!” “Ahhh, ahhh, don’t mind me! I’m writhing like a maggot in bed!” During dinner, Liam Blackwood still sat next to me. Although everyone was still getting to know each other, the conversation flowed, and it wasn’t too awkward. Tonight’s meal mostly suited my taste, and I was happily devouring it with my head down. Suddenly, a peeled shrimp appeared in my bowl as if from the heavens. The people at the table fell silent for a moment. I decided to retract my previous statement about the atmosphere not being awkward. After a moment of silence, I finally looked up, narrowing my eyes at the culprit, my tone slightly gritted. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.” “You’re welcome, it’s nothing.” The man curved his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. The space seemed to grow even quieter. What exactly did he want? I chuckled, forcing a smile, and then piled several handfuls of cilantro onto his plate. “A return gift, eat up.” According to research, about 15% of the global population dislikes cilantro. Liam Blackwood was one of them. Not just cilantro, but also celery, carrots… even inconspicuous ginger slices. I piled them all onto his plate. “Hahaha, look at Liam Blackwood’s expression! I’m dying of laughter.” “It seems Mrs. Blackwood is really angry; she’s giving him all the things my brother hates to eat.” “But he ate it all, I’m melting, ugh!” “Liam Blackwood, when are you going to make up with Yolanda? I’m so anxious!”

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For fifteen years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building a business empire from nothing with Robert. I thought our happily-ever-after was finally here. Instead, on the eve of our company’s IPO, I discovered he had secretly married another woman. While he gaslit me into staying “simple” and frugal, he was dripping his pregnant new wife in diamonds and luxury properties bought with my hard-earned money. He thought I would quietly step aside, or that I loved the company too much to destroy it. He thought my fifteen years of sacrifice made me weak. He was wrong. I won’t be the tragic, discarded woman. If Robert thinks he can build his perfect new family on the foundation of my life’s work and walk away unscathed, he’s dead wrong. I am taking everything back. I will gladly burn down the very empire I almost died building, just to watch his deceitful dreams turn to ash. 1 “Audrey.” The woman’s perfectly manicured finger rested on the “Robert Sterling” line of the marriage certificate, her tone dismissive. “You have no right to be here, and even less right to put on airs in front of me, do you understand?” The woman held the marriage certificate like a trophy, standing there like a delicate display doll. I recognized the bracelet on her wrist. Robert and I had bid for it together at an auction last month. He’d said it was for our fifteen-year anniversary. But the day before our anniversary, Robert had frantically told me the bracelet was missing. His eyes were filled with guilt, so much so that they’d reddened as he told me, “Honey, I promise I’ll get you something even better.” He’d caressed the calluses on my hand, tears of regret falling. “You’ve suffered so much with me all these years. Once the company goes public, we’ll finally get married, okay?” “Honey,” Robert had said, embracing me, “I want to marry you. I want us to have a home.” And I believed him. I thought Robert and I were finally going to take that step. I thought these years with him, building something from nothing, had been worth it. That I had turned in a satisfying answer sheet for my life, and we would simply live out our days. Now. I looked at the tiny diamonds on the bracelet, sparkling. They felt like countless needles piercing my heart, making it ache so much I could barely stand. Yet, I forced myself to maintain my composure. “So what?” I snatched the marriage certificate from the woman’s hand, looking at the bride’s name: “Sarah Miller.” I met her perfectly made-up face and her visibly startled expression, and I smiled. “Are you trying to tell me that after fifteen years with Robert, it’s finally my turn to step aside and let you live a good life?” “Sarah,” I said, tracing her photo on the certificate, “do you really think I’d hand over all the hard work and dedication I’ve poured into these years?” I watched Sarah clearly panic, rushing forward to snatch back the certificate, but I dodged. She stumbled, hitting a cabinet, and let out a sharp cry. “Audrey!” “Are you insane?!” I watched as Sarah finally dropped her pretense, yelling at me. “Are you really going to try and ruin my relationship with Robert, to be an illegitimate mistress?!” “Audrey!” “Have you no shame?!” Before Sarah could lunge at me, I calmly took out my phone, snapped a picture of the marriage certificate, and quickly sent it to Robert. “Robert Sterling.” I texted. “I hear you’re married. Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?” “Audrey!” “Honey!” The call connected. Robert’s voice echoed through the living room. “I can explain!” “It’s all a misunderstanding!” “Honey!” A commotion came from Robert’s end, followed by the sound of a car door closing. “I’m coming to you now. Don’t worry. We can talk about everything when I get there.” Robert kept talking. Sarah, however, was furious. She started screaming into the phone. “Robert Sterling! Whose husband are you?! Whose side are you on?!” Sarah’s hysterical voice resonated through the living room. I looked around the apartment again. It was decorated warmly, with pink-hued curtains, cream-colored sofas, and an entire wall of blind-box display shelves. Even the refrigerator was adorned with tiny lucky charms and couplets. The blue cartoon slippers by the shoe rack clearly matched the pair on Sarah’s feet. Even the plain white walls were covered with many photos of Sarah, always with a few glimpses of Robert’s back. It was clear that the person who decorated this apartment had poured a lot of heart into it. One hundred and sixty-three thousand dollars. Paid in full. Sarah Miller’s name. Sarah’s bracelet. Three hundred thousand dollars. It was supposed to be my wedding anniversary gift. And Sarah’s silk nightgown, and Sarah’s manicure, and the tea set on the coffee table, and the brand of tea leaves—none of it was cheap. Every single item spoke of luxury. Every single item. I looked down at my own plain, unadorned nails, then at the calluses on my palms from years of hard work, and then at my clothes, an outfit and shoes that together probably cost less than a thousand dollars. A sudden wave of bitter amusement washed over me. I laughed out loud. “Robert Sterling.” I cut Robert off. “Since you’re already married,” I said, glancing one last time at the marriage certificate in Sarah’s arms, “there’s nothing left for us to discuss.” I didn’t wait for Robert. I didn’t need to hear his explanation. All I knew was that the fifteen years I had given had become a joke. And Robert Sterling had made me the biggest clown in that joke. I sat in my best friend Chloe’s law office, placing the marriage certificate on the table. After explaining everything I knew to Chloe, I asked her only one thing. “In this situation, what are my chances?” My voice remained calm, as if discussing everyday matters. “Robert and I started from scratch. The company shares are equal, the assets split down the middle—all transparent. But then there’s Sarah.” I tapped the table, thinking of the three hundred thousand dollar bracelet and the one hundred and sixty-three thousand dollar apartment. “I don’t want anyone to get off easy. Stepping on my blood and sweat, enjoying the fruits of my labor—there’s no such easy thing in this world, and no justice in it either!” I told Chloe. “I want them to pay the price!” “But,” Chloe said, still fuming but maintaining her professional demeanor, “your company is at a critical stage for listing. A scandal now…” “I don’t care.” “Then that’s enough!” Chloe thumped her chest, promising, “I’ll help you see this through to the end.” Emerging from the bank, I sat in my car, staring at dozens of pages of transaction records. The amounts Robert had transferred to Sarah ranged from thousands to tens of thousands, each followed by a note: “Voluntary gift.” My chest felt like it was blocked, a suffocating feeling gripping my throat, making my eyes sting and burn. I remembered how I, too, had envied other women’s manicures and their fashion. I had gone to a beauty salon, got a manicure like those young women, then returned home, deliberately showing off my pretty nails, waving them in front of Robert, hoping he would tell me I looked beautiful. Instead, Robert had simply met my expectant gaze with a cold expression. “Honey,” he’d said, grabbing my hand and looking at my nails, shaking his head in disapproval. “I know our lives are a bit better now, but the most important thing is not to forget where you came from. We can’t just start spending lavishly, right?” He’d continued, “What if things get difficult again someday? How will you adapt?” “Honey,” Robert had hugged me, “I still prefer you simple.” All my expectations had shattered into dust. Robert’s words were like a bucket of cold water poured over my head, leaving me stunned, even forgetting to react. I just watched as Robert unceremoniously plucked off the tiny diamonds from my nails, saying, “What use are these flashy, impractical things?” Yes. Flashy, impractical things. What use were they? Yet Sarah was adorned with flashy, impractical things, like someone from another world, as perfect as a porcelain doll. The ironic part was that every penny spent on Sarah’s adornments came from the blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into building our life over the years. Why? Tears still flowed uncontrollably. I fiercely wiped them away, then, seeing Robert’s persistent calls, finally answered. “Honey?” “You finally answered!” “Thank goodness!” Robert’s anxious voice came through. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where are you? Whatever it is, can we just talk face-to-face?” He pleaded, “Audrey, we’ve been together for fifteen years! Not fifteen days! You can’t just hide from me…” “Robert.” I suppressed the ache in my throat, my voice still calm. “Let’s meet.” I told him, “At that house in Northwood. Let’s meet there.” He was clearly taken aback. After a few seconds of silence, “Okay,” he said. Then, Robert’s voice became surprised and relieved. “Honey, I’ll head over right now! I’ll pick up some soup dumplings from your favorite place and bring them!” Before I could refuse, Robert had already hung up. I turned to meet Chloe’s worried gaze. “I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry.” It had been almost five years since Robert and I moved out of that house. I looked at the weathered, old door, remembering how, when we first moved there from the basement apartment, Robert and I had put our hearts into decorating it together. Robert had said then, “Honey, this is our first home. It means something different!” He’d continued, “Later, when we’re old, if you’re willing, we’ll come back here to retire!” He’d asked, “Every year, we’ll come back and stay for a few days, okay?” At the time, my heart was full of joy, feeling that my life was truly worth it. Now, only a few years later, everything had changed. I pushed open the door. Robert was already getting up from the sofa. “Honey!” Robert was like a child seeking praise, picking up the ready-made soup dumplings and offering them to me. “They’re still warm.” In the past, I always said I loved soup dumplings, loved how Robert would wake up before dawn every day to queue for them for me. Later, when I brought up soup dumplings again, Robert just offered perfunctory excuses. “Audrey,” he’d say. “Time is money. I don’t have that much leisure to wait in such a long queue for dumplings.” Now, the soup dumplings were before me again, but somehow, they no longer looked appetizing. “Robert Sterling.” I ignored Robert’s attentiveness, walked past him, and sat on the sofa. The old sofa creaked, incomparable to Sarah’s. “Do you remember this sofa?” I asked Robert. “You and I spent two days searching the secondhand market to buy it.” I continued, as if recounting a mundane detail, “Because we couldn’t afford to pay for delivery, you borrowed a flatbed cart, and I held onto the sofa armrest. We spent two and a half hours bringing it home together in forty-degree summer heat.” I looked at him. “Back then, you said this sofa, no matter how rich we got, would never be replaced. You said it was proof of our love.” Robert’s eyes flickered, avoiding my gaze. I simply picked up the remote control from the coffee table. The remote was wrapped in tape; Robert had accidentally dropped it when he was drunk, and I couldn’t bear to replace it, so I bought tape and wrapped it up. I caressed the tape on the remote. “But the truth is, things change, don’t they?” “No, they don’t!” Robert rushed to my side, explaining frantically. “It’s not like that!” Robert’s eyes turned red, just like every time he was agitated in the past. “Sarah and I were just an accident! I don’t love her! I swear!” Robert half-knelt before me, reaching for my hand, but I shifted, dodging his grasp. I saw the hurt flash in his eyes as he continued, “At the time, I drank too much at a party. I don’t know how Sarah ended up in the hotel. When I woke up, I was genuinely scared! I didn’t lie to you!” Robert’s tears fell. “I was afraid you’d find out and break up with me, that you’d throw a fit. I didn’t know how to face you!” He stammered, “I just…” “How long?” “What?” “How long?” My voice remained calm. “With Sarah, how long have you been together?” Robert suddenly fell silent. He met my eyes, staring at me for a long time before speaking with difficulty. “Three and a half years.” I remembered Robert saying we’d come back to stay for a few days every year. But later, Robert always claimed he had no time. It wasn’t that he had no time. It was just that all his time had been spent on someone else. My heart ached, and then I heard Robert explain. “I wanted to break up, but Sarah clung to me. She kept saying her family background was poor, that her parents favored her brothers. I just felt sorry for her…” Robert’s voice grew weaker. In the end, even he couldn’t bring himself to say the next words with conviction. “Sarah… is pregnant.” It was like a dull thunderclap exploding in my ears. I clenched my fists tightly. Even though I had learned the full truth before coming, hearing it with my own ears still made me feel utterly cold. While I was eagerly anticipating my wedding with Robert, he had already given another woman his identity, making me the outsider. Now, I listened to Robert say, “I thought you were getting older, and having a baby would be bad for your health…” Getting older. Bad for my health. How laughable. “So,” Robert looked at me, “I thought her having the child would be good for you too.” Good for me. My nails dug into my flesh, but I felt no pain, as I listened to Robert continue. “Just forgive me! I’ll do anything you ask!” “Really?” I suppressed the anger raging within me, meeting Robert’s gaze. “Really!” I suddenly smiled, rising from the sofa and walking to the door. I opened it, revealing the person outside, and my smile widened. “So, did you hear that clearly?” “Who’s the mistress now?” I looked at Sarah, then pulled out my phone, still on a video call with Chloe. “This video, no editing. Release it directly to the media, word for word!” “No matter how much it costs, I want the biggest impact!” Then. I was suddenly pulled back hard by the wrist, and meeting Robert’s furious eyes, I smiled. “Robert Sterling. When you mess up, you can’t just walk away unscathed.” I looked at him. “Are you satisfied with this answer?” “Robert Sterling!” Sarah, ignoring Robert’s rage, rushed between us and demanded loudly, “Was what you just said true?! You said you loved me! You said you’d be responsible for me and our child’s future! You said you married me out of love, but couldn’t give me a wedding because of business ties with Audrey and it wasn’t the right time!” She was hysterical. “You’ve been lying to me all this time?!” Sarah completely broke down, hitting Robert with all her might. Robert, however, paid no mind to Sarah being pregnant. The moment Sarah lunged at him again, he slapped her across the face. I watched Sarah’s eyes redden. She stumbled back a few steps, looking at Robert in disbelief. “You hit me?” “Robert Sterling!” “You actually hit me?!” “I’ll kill you!” Sarah started to rush at him again in a frenzy, but Robert grabbed her hair and slammed her to the ground. The gentleness on Robert’s face was gone, replaced only by ruthlessness. He yelled at Sarah. “Haven’t you had enough?!” “If it weren’t for you, Audrey and I wouldn’t have come to this point!” “Didn’t I tell you?!” “Didn’t I tell you! I told you not to provoke Audrey! Why did you still provoke her?!” “Why?!” Robert walked over to Sarah, ignoring her tear-streaked face, ignoring her pregnancy. He lifted his foot, about to kick her. Sarah suddenly panicked, grabbing Robert and begging him, crying. “Robert Sterling, we have a child!” “You can’t do this to me, you can’t!” I watched the once haughty Sarah become disheveled, like a clown. Just as she had looked at me when I first met her, as if I were a clown. I watched indifferently, hearing Chloe say, “Don’t worry.” “Everything you asked me to do, I’m taking care of it all.” “The company listing.” “Making it onto the rich list.” “Robert Sterling,” Chloe’s voice was full of scorn, “he’s just dreaming!” Robert finally seemed to come to his senses. He rigidly turned, meeting my eyes, then his ruthlessness faded, and he became weak again, grabbing my hand and saying, “Honey!” “You can’t do this to me!” “The company, we built it together, don’t you remember?! Back then, to secure that investment, you didn’t sleep for days and nights, guarding the investor’s door before dawn, just to show them your sincerity first thing!” He pleaded, “It was a blizzard that day, and you had pneumonia from a high fever, and you were in the ICU for three days because of it!” He looked at me, “You loved our company so much, how can you destroy it with your own hands?” I watched Robert try to remind me, and I too remembered that day. Robert had rushed to the mansion, listening to the investor say, “Robert Sterling, you’re truly blessed! To find such a wonderful woman! You’re worth it!” He’d continued, “I’m making this investment!” I felt Robert trembling all over. He disregarded the contract, and just cried, hugging me and saying, “I don’t want the partnership! I don’t want the company! I don’t want money! I only want Audrey, I only want Audrey! Audrey, don’t leave me!” The high fever had terrified Robert. For that, Robert spent two full years tending to my health, learning to cook for me, making me medicinal meals. Now.

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1 On April Fool’s Day, my best friend breathlessly told me my ten-year boyfriend had planned a huge surprise. I spent two hours on a full face of makeup and bought a custom cake. By the river, the wind howled. He stood in the center of a crowd, arm around Abby, lighting a cigarette. Someone laughed. “Tristan, that’s cold! She actually fell for it?” “A bet’s a bet. Abby’s buying drinks tonight!” Abby leaned on him, giggling. “Tristan, aren’t you scared she actually loves you and will lose it?” He blew out smoke, squinting. “Lose it over what? Seven years. Only a fool would take it seriously.” I walked forward. The crowd fell silent. I dropped the cake onto his expensive shoes. Then I looked straight at Abby. “Last month he texted me about you. Said you were boring in bed, that you didn’t moan well.” Tristan’s face went white. I didn’t look back. The river wind cut through my coat as I turned to leave. It was fine. April—the perfect time to wake from a delusion. … I walked alone along the riverbank embankment. Footsteps rushed up behind me. A hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist. “Serena.” Tristan’s voice was low and dark. The smell of tobacco still clung to his clothes. “What the hell were you talking about back there?” I looked down at the hand gripping my wrist. His knuckles were pronounced. There was a faint, faded scar on his thumb joint. He got it playing basketball in high school. Back then, I used to bring him a fresh bandage every single day. “Let go of me.” “Not until you explain yourself.” He didn’t let go. His grip tightened. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Abby. What was the point of that little stunt you just pulled?” I almost laughed out loud. A few people from the crowd had followed him. Abby approached, her stiletto heels clicking sharply against the pavement. She immediately gravitated toward his side. “Tristan, let it go,” she said, her voice dropping into a soft, placating register as she placed her hand lightly on his forearm. “Serena is probably just… a little upset. The prank today was a bit harsh, after all.” Tristan didn’t even look at her. His eyes remained locked on me. “Serena, how old are you? You are throwing a tantrum over an April Fool’s joke? Since when did you become so immature?” The wind blew hard, puffing up his dress shirt. I looked at him, and then at the soft, supposedly harmless face of the woman glued to his side. Abby let out a delicate sigh, pressing herself closer against his chest. She rested her chin on his shoulder and looked at me, her eyes curving into sweet crescents. “Serena,” she murmured, her tone light and conspiratorial, as if sharing a secret. “You don’t actually have feelings for Tristan, do you? Pining after him for so many years when he feels nothing for you… that is just so pathetic.” Tristan didn’t push her away. I violently yanked my hand free. He clearly didn’t expect the sudden force. He stumbled slightly, his empty hand hanging suspended in the cold air. “Abby,” I said, my voice dead calm. “That time I drank myself into stomach bleeding to cover for him at a business dinner? You were sitting right there watching. That time he called me at 2 AM saying he was sick, and I rode a bike for half an hour in the freezing rain to bring him medicine? You were listening on the line. That time he said he was craving wontons from the shop behind our old campus, and I skipped my finals prep to stand in line for two hours? You didn’t try to stop me then, either.” I paused, letting the silence stretch. “You have known absolutely everything for the past seven years.” Abby lifted her head from his shoulder. Her sickeningly sweet smile finally faltered. I turned around and walked down the embankment stairs. This time, no one chased after me. When I reached the main intersection, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from my best friend, Chloe. I typed out a quick reply: [Hot pot tonight. You are paying.] The spicy red broth bubbled violently in the center of our table. I shoved a piece of beef tripe into my mouth while Chloe held up her phone, reading aloud: “‘Seven years and they haven’t even held hands. What is she even hoping for?’ — Posted by Abby on Instagram. The photo attached is the cake you smashed on the ground.” My chopsticks hovered in the air for a fraction of a second. Just then, the heavy curtain at the entrance of the restaurant was pushed aside. Two people walked in. Tristan walked in front. Abby was clinging to his arm, that same soft, innocent smile plastered on her face. They walked a few steps inside and stopped, making direct eye contact with our table. Abby’s eyes curved into crescents again. She physically dragged Tristan over to us. “Serena! What a coincidence.” She glanced down at our boiling pot. “Eating hot pot all alone? That is so sad. Do you want to join us? We were supposed to go to a French bistro, but Tristan insisted he wanted something spicy, so I tagged along.” Chloe slammed her chopsticks down onto the table with a sharp crack. “Who the hell are you? Do we know you?” Abby immediately shrank back behind Tristan, her voice turning even softer and more fragile. “I was just saying hello… Serena, please don’t be mad. I didn’t know your friend had such a terrible temper.” Tristan furrowed his brow, glaring at me. “Serena, tell your friend to watch her mouth.” Abby peeked out from behind his shoulder. She looked at the food in my bowl and let out a light, mocking giggle. “You still love beef tripe, huh?” she whispered loudly to Tristan, leaning in close. “I remember you telling me once that someone cooked tripe for you for an entire year straight, and eventually, just looking at it made you want to vomit.” Tristan stayed completely silent. Abby turned her attention back to me, raising her voice just enough so the neighboring tables could eavesdrop. “Serena, I honestly admire you. I really do. Seven years. I could never last that long. I can’t even wake up early enough to buy him breakfast. But honestly, if you like him, you should have just said so! Bottling it up for so long must be agonizing.” Chloe stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor. A few drops of boiling red broth splashed onto the back of her hand, but she didn’t even flinch. She marched straight around the table, stopping inches away from Abby. “Say that again.” Abby cowered against Tristan’s chest. “Tristan…” Tristan instinctively raised an arm to block Chloe. “Are you psychotic?” Chloe raised her hand and delivered a vicious, open-handed slap. She didn’t slap Abby. She slapped Tristan. 2 The sharp, ringing crack echoed through the restaurant. The entire dining room went dead silent for several seconds. Tristan clutched his cheek, staring at Chloe in absolute disbelief. It was as if his brain couldn’t process what had just happened. Abby stood frozen beside him, her mouth hanging open. The word “Tristan” was trapped in her throat. I stood up. I walked over to them. Just as Tristan opened his mouth to shout, I raised my hand and delivered a second, equally vicious slap to his other cheek. He stumbled backward, crashing heavily into the table behind him. Bowls and chopsticks shattered across the tiled floor. “The first slap was payback for my best friend,” I said, my voice steady. “The second slap is payback for the last seven years.” Abby finally found her voice and let out a piercing scream. “Waiter—!” Chloe grabbed my wrist. We bolted for the exit. The hot pot restaurant had heavy, old-fashioned sliding wooden doors. Chloe kicked one open with a loud bang that rattled the frame. The freezing night wind hit us in the face. Behind us, someone yelled, “Stop right there!” More chopsticks clattered to the floor. Abby screamed, her voice shrill and panicked, “Tristan, you’re bleeding!” We sprinted through two entire city blocks. When we finally ducked into a narrow, dimly lit alleyway, Chloe stopped. She bent over, gasping for air, and then looked up at me. She started laughing so hard she couldn’t stand straight. “Did I… did I actually just slap Tristan across the face?” I started laughing too, leaning against the cold brick wall to catch my breath. “You did.” “Is he going to call the cops?” “Let him,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “I can just show the police Abby’s Instagram post and ask if being a pathetic doormat for seven years is a prosecutable offense.” Chloe laughed even harder, collapsing onto a concrete step. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The screen was lit up with several missed calls. All from Tristan. A new text message popped up: [Where are you?] The phone buzzed again. [Pick up the phone.] [Serena, can you act like a mature adult for once?] I tossed the phone to Chloe. “You reply.” Chloe caught it effortlessly. Her thumbs flew across the keyboard, and she hit send. I leaned over to read what she wrote. [We are at the crematorium. I reserved an oven for you.] I almost choked on a laugh. The phone immediately started ringing again. Tristan’s contact photo flashed aggressively on the screen. Chloe hit decline, powered the phone completely off, and shoved it back into my coat pocket. “Let’s go,” she said, standing up and brushing the dust off her jeans. “We are going to my place.” We navigated out of the alley and flagged down a passing taxi. Just as I pulled the passenger door open, two figures bolted out from the adjacent intersection, running at top speed. Tristan’s face still bore the unmistakable, bright red marks of two handprints. Abby was struggling to keep up behind him, carrying her stilettos in one hand, running on the pavement in nothing but sheer pantyhose. “Serena!” Tristan lunged forward and slammed his hand flat against the open taxi door. The driver leaned his head out the window, annoyed. “Are you getting in or not?” “Yes.” Chloe shoved me violently into the backseat, dived in after me, and slammed the door shut with a deafening thud. “Drive. Now.” Tristan’s fingers were still gripping the edge of the rolled-down window. As the taxi lurched forward, he was dragged a few agonizing steps before finally losing his grip. In the rearview mirror, I watched him stand frozen in the middle of the street. Abby finally caught up to him and tried to grab his arm. He violently shoved her away. Chloe rolled down her window, sticking her head out into the cold wind. “Tristan! Those handprints are perfectly symmetrical! You’re welcome!” The taxi turned a corner, and they vanished from sight. The driver shot us a few wary glances in the rearview mirror but didn’t ask any questions. He just quietly reached over and turned the radio volume up. An old classic rock song was playing. The driver hummed along. Chloe slumped back against the faux-leather seats, kicked off her sneakers, and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I’m starving,” she groaned. “I didn’t even get a single piece of tripe.” “We will boil instant ramen at your place.” “Deal. Add an egg.” My phone vibrated aggressively in my pocket again. I pulled it out. It was an unknown number. I declined the call. A text message arrived immediately: [This is Abby. Tristan drank way too much. Can you come over?] Chloe leaned over, read the message, and practically snatched the phone out of my hands. She quickly typed a reply: [If he drank too much, feed him vinegar. Why are you texting me? Do I look like a vinegar factory?] Send. Block. She tossed the phone back into my lap, glanced out the window, and suddenly sat bolt upright. “Hey. Isn’t that Tristan’s car?” I whipped my head around to look. A sleek black sedan had accelerated aggressively from behind and was now driving parallel to our taxi. The passenger window was rolled halfway down. Tristan’s jaw was clenched so tight the muscles twitched. He suddenly jerked his steering wheel, aggressively swerving toward us. The taxi driver cursed loudly and violently yanked his steering wheel to avoid a collision. “What the hell is wrong with this maniac?!” The black sedan surged forward and pinned us against the curb again, this time closing the gap to mere inches. Tristan turned his head, staring directly through the double layer of glass at me in the backseat. His lips moved. Chloe narrowed her eyes, reading his lips. “He said… get out of the car.” The taxi driver slammed his foot on the gas. The taxi shot forward, briefly leaving Tristan’s car behind. But within seconds, the sleek sedan roared back up alongside us. The two vehicles aggressively wove through the late-night traffic. The driver frantically shifted gears, spewing a continuous stream of profanities. “Are you kids trying to get yourselves killed over a breakup?!” “It’s not a breakup,” Chloe yelled over the engine noise. “It’s debt collection.” We hit a red light, and the traffic forced us to a crawl. Tristan’s car pulled up right beside us. This time, he didn’t look at the backseat. He looked directly at the driver. “Sir, she owes me money.” The driver blinked, startled, and turned around to look at me. Chloe immediately reached over and shoved the driver’s head back toward the windshield. “Keep your eyes on the road! He is lying. He owes us money!” The light turned green. Tristan’s car didn’t move. He waited for our taxi to accelerate, then violently cranked his steering wheel, cutting horizontally across the lanes and blocking our path completely. The taxi driver slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched. All three of us were violently thrown forward. “Holy—” Tristan stepped out of his car. He walked purposefully over to my side of the taxi and knocked hard on the glass. I rolled the window down exactly one inch. “Get out,” he demanded. His voice was hoarse, sounding entirely unlike himself. “We need to talk.” “We have absolutely nothing to talk about.” “We do.” He pressed his hand flat against the cold glass, his knuckles turning white. “You said all those things in front of my friends. Fine. I accept that. But why did you run? Why won’t you let me finish a single sentence?” Chloe leaned aggressively over me, shouting through the crack. “Say what?! That there is nothing between you and Abby? That you actually secretly love Serena?! Tristan, touch your face! You got slapped twice and it’s still swollen, yet she practically bled for you for seven years and you didn’t notice a damn thing?!” Tristan ignored her completely, his eyes locked onto mine. “I already made Abby delete the Instagram post.” I stared at him, unblinking. “She is just a friend. She said she wanted to play a prank today, and I thought you would…” “Thought I would what?” He fell silent. The back door of Tristan’s car opened. Abby stepped out onto the asphalt. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks stained with fresh tear tracks. “Serena,” she whimpered, her voice thick with fake tears. “I am so sorry. This is all my fault. I didn’t know you cared so much. I thought you had already… Tristan always told me you were just old classmates, so I didn’t think anything of it.” “Today was entirely my fault. Please don’t blame Tristan. He actually cares about you a lot.” Chloe burst out laughing. “Oh my god. How many times did you rehearse that monologue in the mirror?” Large, theatrical tears rolled down Abby’s cheeks. “I am truly so sorry. I posted that picture out of a momentary lapse of judgment, but I already deleted it. Tristan already yelled at me for it. If you are still angry, you can hit me. Just please don’t make things difficult for him.” She took a timid half-step forward. She was still in bare pantyhose, and she visibly shivered as her feet touched the freezing asphalt. Tristan glanced down at her, a deep frown creasing his forehead. 3 Abby tilted her head up, gazing at him with red, tear-filled eyes. Her lips parted slightly, but she made no sound. A few pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped to watch the drama unfold. The taxi driver blared his horn twice. “Listen, can you people move this soap opera to the curb? I have a living to make here.” Tristan stepped slightly to the side, but his gaze immediately snapped back to me. “Get out of the car. I will drive you home.” Chloe grabbed my sleeve tightly. Abby stood completely still, tears continuously streaming down her face, her toes curling tightly against the freezing asphalt. She looked simultaneously pathetic and calculating. I pushed the taxi door open and stepped out. Tristan let out a visible breath of relief and took a step toward me. I completely bypassed him. I walked straight up to Abby. She lifted her tear-streaked face, gazing at me with a perfectly crafted look of fragile innocence. Her lips parted as if to speak— “Are your feet not freezing?” I asked softly. She froze. “Doesn’t it hurt to stand on the road like that?” She instinctively looked down at her feet, then back up at me. Something calculating flashed in her eyes for a split second. “Where are my shoes?” she whispered, playing the victim perfectly. She looked around helplessly. She had likely discarded her stilettos several blocks back just to play this exact role. I pulled my phone out of my purse, opened the camera app, switched to the front-facing lens, and held the screen inches from her face. “Take a good look at yourself right now.” She instinctively leaned closer to the screen. She saw her mascara clumped into thick, ugly spiderwebs, her lipstick smeared across her chin, and her eyeliner running in two massive black smudges under her eyes. She looked deranged. “This is what Tristan likes?” I pulled the phone away and dropped it back into my purse. “His taste in women is even worse than I thought.” Abby’s lips trembled violently. Chloe popped her head out of the taxi window. “Hey, where did all that energy go from when you were chasing our car?! Running a marathon in pantyhose—so brave! I thought you were training for the Olympics!” Abby’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. Tristan took a heavy step forward, physically placing himself between me and Abby. “That is enough.” Chloe kicked her door open, hopped out of the taxi in her socks, and marched right up to him, tilting her chin up aggressively. “Enough? Tristan, have you actually counted how many messes she has cleaned up for you over the past seven years? When your psycho ex-girlfriend showed up at her dorm to scream at her, she took it in silence to protect you.” “When you got into a bar fight and ended up bleeding, she scaled the campus fence at 3 AM to buy you bandages. When your mother called interrogating her about whether you had a new girlfriend, she lied through her teeth to cover for you.” Chloe took another aggressive step forward, forcing Tristan to lean back. “Abby stands barefoot on the pavement for five minutes and your heart bleeds for her? When Serena had a stomach hemorrhage, who rushed her to the emergency room?! Where the hell were you?!” Tristan’s lips pressed together into a thin, bloodless line. “I didn’t know…” “You didn’t know?” Chloe let out a sharp, venomous laugh. “What exactly didn’t you know? You knew she woke up at 6 AM every single morning to buy you breakfast. You knew she memorized your entire class schedule. You knew she liked every single post you ever made. You knew absolutely everything. You just pretended you were blind.” Abby shrank back, trying to make herself look smaller. Tristan stood rooted to the spot, completely paralyzed. I walked over and stood right next to Chloe. “Tristan,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Do you remember my birthday during junior year of college? You asked me what I wanted as a gift.” He stared at me, his breathing shallow. “I told you I just wanted you to take me to the movies. You told me you were too busy. You said you had to help your girlfriend at the time pick out a present for someone. Later that night, I went to the theater alone. I saw the two of you standing by the entrance. You were holding the luxury bag she bought, and she had her arm linked through yours.” He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “You saw me that night,” I continued, my voice entirely void of emotion. “You waved at me from across the lobby. And then you put your arm around her waist and walked into the theater.” A gust of wind blew a lock of his hair across his forehead. “Seven years,” I said. “If you had treated me like a human being for even one single second of those seven years, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” He took a desperate step forward. “Serena…” “Don’t take another step.” Chloe threw her arm out, pointing a finger directly at his chest. “Don’t let your dirty shoes taint the ground Serena walks on.” Tristan stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at me. Something foreign and desperate was shifting in his eyes. “I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought you… you never explicitly said the words.” Chloe let out a sound of pure disgust. “How many times did she have to say it?! She told you, ‘Tristan, I love you,’ and you told her to stop joking around. She said, ‘Tristan, I am completely serious,’ and you told her, ‘I like the way things are.’ She begged you, ‘Tristan, can you please just look at me?’ and the very next week, you started dating Abby.” Abby flinched, pulling her coat tighter around herself. Tristan stood completely immobilized. The two handprints on his face still hadn’t faded. One on each cheek, glowing bright red like a pair of grotesque clown paints under the streetlights. I stared at him in silence for three agonizing seconds. Then, I turned around. “Let’s go.” Chloe immediately followed, linking her arm tightly through mine. There were no footsteps behind us. No one chased us. After walking about twenty paces, I finally glanced back over my shoulder. He was still standing in the exact same spot. The wind was whipping his shirt around his torso. The harsh glare of the streetlamp cast deep shadows over his face, making his expression unreadable. Abby was crouched on the ground nearby, blindly searching for something in the dark. Chloe pulled out her phone, aimed it backward, and snapped a photo of the pathetic scene. “I am keeping this,” she declared, sliding the phone back into her pocket. “If you ever lose your mind and feel a shred of pity for him in the future, I will use this to smack some sense back into you.” I raised my hand and flagged down another taxi. “I will never feel pity for him again.”

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I was a spoiled princess, and after marrying a cold, stoic man I didn’t love, I gave birth to a mini stoic. Even when our son turned five, I continued to boss them around, ruling the household with an iron fist. I loved seeing their looks of annoyance while they still had to cater to my every whim. Until one day, comments started to float across my vision. [The wicked side character is finally getting phased out. The heroine has transferred to the male lead’s company and even took the little one to KFC today. The story is finally getting on track!] [Constantly tormenting our male lead and the little one. Good thing the father and son will eventually kick her out to appease the heroine. The pampered socialite will end up paralyzed from the waist down after being hit by a car on the street.] [The thought of the male lead’s happy family of three mocking her as a cripple in the hospital fills me with pure satisfaction.] I abruptly lifted my leg. My husband, who was washing my feet, and my son, who was dutifully massaging my legs, were both splashed in the face with water. The brows of the two stoic faces, one big and one small, instantly furrowed. I stammered. “No, no need, I’ll do it myself…” 1 Young Richard frowned, his small mind clearly struggling to understand why I was so unpredictable. “Mommy, is the water too hot?” I awkwardly put my foot back into the basin. “No, I’m done washing, no need to massage anymore, you can stand up.” I swallowed, then glanced at my husband, Chandler, who was also kneeling on one knee beside me. “You too, get up.” Compared to Richard, Chandler was much more composed. He seemed accustomed to my sudden changes in temperament. He calmly stood up to grab a towel. [The more humiliated the male lead and little one are now, the more satisfying it will be when they get their revenge on the side character.] [Making the little prince massage her legs, and the billionaire CEO wash and dry her feet? She really has a death wish.] I silently watched the scrolling text. So, I was the villainous side character, and my husband and son were the male lead and male child lead of this world. Not only did I have to make way for the heroine, but Richard existed because the author was worried the heroine would suffer childbirth pain, so they arranged for me, the side character, to have him first. In the end, the beautiful heroine would appear, inheriting my husband and son, saving them, and showing them that there was a kind woman other than me. The happy family of three would live happily ever after. I clenched my fists. Chandler, fine. We were an arranged marriage, no real emotional foundation. But Richard… I looked at the little boy standing obediently nearby. Although he had a face identical to his father’s, he was still my son, literally from my womb. I wasn’t about to hand him over to someone else. So, I cleared my throat twice and asked him. “Sweetie, if Daddy and Mommy got divorced, who would you go with?” Richard froze, then his little brow furrowed again. Mimicking his father, he spoke coldly. “Mommy, don’t make such meaningless hypotheticals.” I was choked by his reply, looking up to meet Chandler’s cool, amber eyes. They seemed like still, calm water. He stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and lifted my foot from the basin. “Don’t say such things in front of the child…” Richard nodded, like a miniature adult, and turned to walk out the door. “I’m going back to sleep.” The comments were filled with laughter. [What is this side character thinking? Both father and son are cut from the same cloth, so their level of annoyance with her is obviously the same.] [Chandler can still fake it a bit, but little Richard practically has ‘disgust’ carved on his face.] [LOL, never mind she can’t bear to divorce, even if she did, little Richard wouldn’t go with her. Why would he? To serve her like her dog?] [Her sole purpose is to cause chaos, get abandoned, and then suffer a tragic death by broken legs to achieve the ‘satisfying’ plot effect.] My heart gave a violent lurch. Without a word, I snatched the towel from Chandler’s hand. “I’ll do it myself.” Chandler’s brow subtly furrowed, but he said nothing in the end. Lying in bed, I tried to process the information from the comments. I lifted my silk robe, staring at my long, fair legs. They were so long, so perfectly proportioned—I couldn’t accept losing them later! After much deliberation, I decided to first change how I treated my husband and son. According to the comments, I couldn’t stop the male and female leads from meeting. Even if I convinced Chandler to fire the heroine, they would just meet at the next street corner. But if my son saw me as a gentle mother, maybe when Chandler and I divorced, he would choose me. 2 Thinking this, I looked up and saw Chandler emerging from the bathroom. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist, and un-wiped water droplets slowly tracked down his chest. When he saw me lying on the bed with my robe lifted, revealing my legs, his movement of wiping his hair paused, and his pupils immediately darkened. I was still pondering how to be a considerate, good mother. I looked up again and saw Chandler had already retrieved the “battle attire” I had once bought for him from the closet. In his left hand, he held black and white lace; in his right, purple lace. His ear tips were slightly red, and he stared at me with a wooden expression, as if seeking my opinion. The comments section went wild with screams. [Why is the screen black?! Is there something my esteemed VIP member isn’t allowed to see?] [Side character, I won’t scold you anymore. Just turn on the camera and let everyone admire your husband’s big chest muscles.] [Claire, let your husband be everyone’s plaything, build some good karma, quickly turn on the camera and let us see the goods.] Amidst a sea of yellow duck avatars, a few original fans chimed in. [I can’t accept this. Even knowing how little Richard came to be, I still feel the male lead was coerced. Does the side character not see her husband’s perpetually cold face every time he’s intimate with her?] [I agree. The male lead clearly refused the first time, but she keeps forcing him to wear those things to satisfy her weird fetish. It’s disgusting.] [It’s fine, just thinking that the legs currently straddling the male lead will soon be gone makes me feel less angry.] I took a deep breath, watching Chandler about to change, and quickly pulled the duvet over my legs. “I… I’m not in the mood today. Let’s just go to sleep early!” After I said that, the air in the entire room seemed to freeze. The comments cheered. [Oh, it’s daylight now.] [The male lead’s face doesn’t look too good. What did the side character do now?] [What else? She forced him to wear those clothes and got rejected. Look at the male lead’s knuckles, white from clenching the lace garment. Enduring humiliation…] I also noticed Chandler’s face was uncharacteristically dark. Especially after I said “not in the mood,” his face visibly darkened by more than two shades. It was true that Chandler used to be reluctant to change clothes, and I’d have to coax and trick him. Now, seeing the furious comments, I didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly. “Understood,” Chandler’s voice, like himself, was cool and detached. He casually tossed the clothes into the wardrobe, then pulled back the covers and lay down. I pinched my leg under the duvet, letting out a long sigh of relief. Good, they were safe. Love you, old legs, see you tomorrow. 3 I woke up the next day to bright daylight. Stepping out of my room, I saw the father and son sitting in the living room. As soon as I sat down, Chandler rose to get me toast from the kitchen. Richard, huffing and puffing, carried a carton of milk towards me, stepping onto a stool to pour it for me. The comments were once again complaining. [The side character truly deserves her end. With so many nannies in the house, she insists on the male lead and little one serving her. She’s just asking for trouble.] [Exactly, saying she wants little Richard to develop good service habits so he won’t be disliked when he marries into another family. Does the little prince need to marry into another family?] [And she claims she wants the male lead to set a good example for his son. I think she just wants to torment them and satisfy her control issues.] My brow twitched violently. I reached out and grabbed Richard’s small arm. Richard looked up at me, bewildered. “This time I put in one and a half spoonfuls of sugar,” he said. I took the milk, poured it into a glass myself, and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls. “Mommy can do these small things herself. You hurry up and eat.” Richard stared at me, seemingly unable to understand why I was acting so strangely. But he turned and sat back in his seat. Chandler emerged from the kitchen, looking a bit troubled. “We’re out of salad dressing. I’ve already sent Aunt Mae to buy some…” I picked up a sandwich. “It’s fine, I can eat it without salad dressing.” The air fell silent, even the housekeeper looked at me with some surprise. Chandler looked at his empty palm, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. “Mommy, you actually didn’t throw the sandwich at Daddy’s face…” Richard blinked. I took a deep breath. Was I really that awful before? The comments had already answered for me. [Why did the side character suddenly change? Isn’t she known for her terrible morning temper? Last time there was no salad dressing, she threw a tantrum and threw the sandwich directly.] [Look how scared our little Richard is, even his cool expression can’t hold up. He probably thinks his mom is possessed.] I took a bite of my sandwich, too guilty to look at the comments anymore. A small piece of lettuce slipped out and fell straight onto my thigh. Seeing my stained loungewear, I instinctively frowned slightly. A tissue gently covered my leg, followed by a finely-boned hand entering my vision. Chandler’s hand was large, almost covering my entire thigh. My pupils suddenly contracted sharply, as if I saw my beautiful legs become invisible and transparent, then sprout wings and wave goodbye to me. I quickly shook off the lettuce, then looked up, only to meet Chandler’s cool eyes. “I can do these small things myself.” I forced a smile, then turned to my son. “From now on, you don’t need to massage my legs or pour milk for me. Mommy can do it herself.” Richard’s brows knitted together tightly, his voice cold. “Mommy, are you sick?” I choked. This child, I’m nice to him and he thinks I’m sick. Through the meal, I remained quiet, not making a fuss or asking anyone to bring me tissues or pour milk. Richard looked up at me several times, his little brow furrowing deeper each time. Chandler’s gaze subtly drifted over me, then slowly moved away. It wasn’t until Chandler took Richard and left the house that I sank heavily onto the sofa. Looking at the oversized wedding photo hanging in the center of the room, I rubbed my temples. Actually, I had a crush on Chandler before our arranged marriage. But he was an absolute ice king; all my girlfriends who tried to pursue him failed. I had my own pride; I wasn’t one to chase after people, especially such a formidable ice king. Just as that tiny spark of affection for Chandler was about to be extinguished in its cradle, our families’ arranged marriage bound us together. I still remember how, right after we got married, I couldn’t contain my inner joy, only to overhear his conversation with a friend outside his study. “Claire is notorious in our circle for being spoiled. You’re really unlucky.” Chandler’s voice was faint. I heard him say, “We both get what we need. That’s what an arranged marriage is for.” The tiny, budding flame of hope was completely extinguished. After only a few months of pretending to be sweet for the man I loved, I gave up entirely, letting my true self show in a defiant surrender. Anyway, as he said, we both got what we needed. From large appliances and furniture to small rugs, I had everything decorated exactly to my taste. Chandler never interfered. Only for this huge wedding photo, when I wanted to hang it in the center of the living room, he frowned slightly. “It doesn’t match here. It’s ugly.” I was fuming at the time, thinking he didn’t dislike the wedding photo; he disliked me. But Chandler’s aloof nature also made him incredibly tolerant. So I became even more outrageous, starting to order him around to do this and that for me. I forced him to wear clothes he didn’t like, purely to satisfy myself. Chandler sometimes showed displeasure, but his way of expressing it was only a slight furrow of his brow. Chandler looked very handsome when he frowned. He was already as handsome as a celestial being. I loved watching him frown; it was as if a cool, otherworldly immortal from a painting had come to life, and the serene portrait finally gained a different expression. Over the years, because he indulged and permitted everything I did, I sometimes even had the illusion that he loved me. But looking at that stoic face, his expression towards the nanny and towards me was indistinguishable, and I knew it was just my ovulation period again, making me imagine things. “Aunt Mae, find someone to take down this photo.” I raised my hand and pointed at the huge wedding photo. This was hung up by a girl full of joy and fantasy for Chandler right after we got married. Six years later, the girl had slowly come to realize that in Chandler’s eyes, I was no different from anyone else. Actually, I could accept a loveless marriage, but the comments constantly acted like a surveillance camera, livestreaming what the male and female leads were doing right now, making me inexplicably irritated. [The heroine poured the male lead coffee, and the male lead looked up at her! I’m dying from the cuteness!] [The heroine made a mistake in the document and didn’t even notice. What a silly little thing! The male lead will be charmed by her later, right~] I closed my eyes, deciding to take a nap. When I opened them again, thunder rumbled outside, and rain poured down. 4 My phone vibrated. It was Chandler. “Fell asleep in the living room?” His voice was faint. I hummed in affirmation. After two seconds of deliberation, he spoke. “I have to work late today. If it gets too late, I won’t come home. Richard can sleep with you tonight.” Before I could agree, the comments flew by. [The male lead is indeed working late, but our heroine is also at the company, oh. Only a few NPCs and the male and female leads are left in the company on a rainy day. Just thinking about it is so romantic.] [I love seeing this kind of power couple. The male lead is a cool workaholic CEO, and the heroine is also an ambitious career woman, nothing like some delicate trophy wife.] [Exactly, afraid of a little thunder, needs someone to stay with her. If her husband’s not around, she makes her son stay. Is she a giant baby?] Called a giant baby, I let out a deep sigh. “No need. You just focus on your work…” Before I could finish, I looked up and saw Richard standing not far away. His little face was set, and I didn’t know how much he had heard standing at the door. As I looked up, the camera also shifted for two seconds. My son said nothing, quietly took off his backpack, and walked into the house. Chandler, however, spoke. “The wall behind you…” I turned my head and saw that, while I was sleeping, the wedding photo had indeed been taken down. “Where’s the photo?” he asked. I answered truthfully. “I had someone throw it out. You focus on your overtime, I’m hanging up.” Chandler said nothing, his face suddenly turning dark, but I didn’t notice at all, frowning and thinking about the empty wall. I should probably hang something there to fill it; it looked quite ugly empty. After dinner, the thunder outside still hadn’t stopped. I rubbed my aching eyes. When I opened them again, a small boy holding a storybook stood solemnly before me. “Come on, I’ll put you to sleep.” Actually, I wasn’t really that afraid of thunder; I just disliked such oppressive weather. So every time it thundered, I’d be in a bad mood, finding ways to torment Chandler in bed. [The side character is so annoying. Five-year-old Richard has to put her to sleep. It’s completely backwards.] [And she has no self-awareness. Richard’s face is practically screaming ‘disgust’. If she can’t torment her husband who’s working late, she starts tormenting her son. Why can’t the male and female leads’ romance speed up?] I looked at Richard, the little boy expressionless, his face as wooden as his dad’s. “No need, Mommy can sleep by herself.” I waved my hand to refuse. Richard bit his lip, seemingly a little upset. “But Daddy said I should stay with you.” I felt a slight headache. Before I could say anything else, a car horn suddenly blared from the courtyard. I froze, and the comments section was equally baffled. [Why is the male lead back? What about the heroine?] 5 Richard, clutching his storybook, looked like he’d found a savior. He eagerly ran to his father, took his hand, and gravely complained, “Mommy wouldn’t let me stay with her.” Chandler nodded. Even facing his son, his expression hadn’t softened. The screen full of question marks made me a little confused too. “You… why are you back?” Chandler didn’t answer, looking up at the empty wall where the photo used to be, his eyes darkening further. “Didn’t you say it was ugly? So I took it down…” I explained, feeling a little awkward under his intense gaze. But the comments detected a different vibe. [Does the male lead really only feel disgust for the side character, like the original novel says? I feel like something’s off.] [Of course! Didn’t you see how dark the male lead’s face is? He must have realized his son couldn’t handle this drama queen, so he rushed back to prevent her from tormenting little Richard.] [He does look impatient.] Chandler patted his son’s head. “Go to sleep.” Richard blinked, then turned his gaze to me. “No leg massage tonight either, Mommy?” I waved my hands frantically. “No, no need.” Richard pouted, tears seeming to well up in his eyes. Then he immediately put on a serious face again, asking stubbornly, “No shoulders either?” I nodded vigorously. Richard puffed out his cheeks and turned to go back to his room. Chandler reached up and tugged at his tie, his expression clouded with deep frustration. “Bad mood lately?” I was completely bewildered. “No, I’ve been in a pretty good mood lately.” The air was silent for two seconds. He took a deep breath, nodded. The rain outside drizzled, and the comments scrolled relentlessly. [The male lead just abandoned the heroine and went home. How is the plot going to progress?] [Don’t worry, even when they’re not together, the bond between the male and female leads won’t disappear. Their red thread of fate is stronger than steel.] Almost as soon as that comment finished scrolling, Chandler’s phone on the bedside table vibrated. Listening to the rushing water from the bathroom, I picked up Chandler’s phone to remind him. “Your phone.” 5 The comments section was amused. [What did I say? The heroine is calling right now, isn’t she?] [The side character wouldn’t actually answer, would she? Does she have no respect for other people’s privacy? So disgusting.] [Don’t worry, upstairs. Even if she answers, it will only make the male lead dislike her more. She’s answered before. In the original novel, one time she not only secretly answered but also cursed out the heroine, and the male lead snatched the phone and smashed it to bits. So embarrassing.] At the same time, Chandler’s voice came from the bathroom. “Answer it for me, ask what it is.” I threw the phone back as if it were a hot potato. “You come out and answer it yourself.” The sound of water in the bathroom abruptly stopped. Then, Chandler emerged, his head covered in foam. He first cast a heavy gaze at me, then lowered his head and picked up the phone. The moment the call connected, a clear female voice rang out from the other end. “Mr. Davies, I sent you two proposals, but you didn’t reply…” In the quiet room, the woman’s voice on the other end was exceptionally clear. Chandler said nothing, his gaze fixed on my face, as if waiting for something. I felt incredibly awkward. Why was his speaker so loud? The comments section was thrilled. [Is the side character about to throw another fit? Before, whenever the male lead answered a call from another woman, she’d get angry. One time, she even scratched his face.] [Only the male lead can tolerate her spoiled temper. But every time she acts unreasonably, the male lead’s disgust for her increases, further highlighting our darling heroine’s gentle kindness, and making him feel even less pity for her when her legs are broken later.] The mention of “broken legs” now triggered a strong reaction in me. Unable to help it, I broke into a violent fit of coughing. I coughed and stood up, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m going to… cough cough cough… take a shower.” My arm was grabbed. Chandler took a deep breath, seemingly trying desperately to suppress something, then emotionlessly hung up the phone. “It’s after hours. We can discuss it tomorrow.” Then, he looked up at me. “A woman called me privately. Aren’t you angry?” The air was silent. Chandler stared at me for a long time, then released me. That night, the restless movements beside me continued until after midnight. The comments kept flashing before my eyes. [The male lead must regret it. He’s probably tearing his hair out, wondering why he’s not at the company with the heroine, but sleeping beside this side character?] [I feel like the side character is pretty pathetic too, sleeping next to someone who’s having an emotional affair, and she’s just like an idiot.] Me, described as an idiot: … I clenched my fists. It’s fine, I’ll endure it. As long as my son agrees to leave with me, I’ll immediately tell Chandler I want a divorce. I wish him happiness forever.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “582290”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On the night of our seventh anniversary, I got down on one knee to propose to my girlfriend. In response, her personal assistant dragged out a massive carnival prize wheel for the tenth time to decide my fate. Once again, the ticking needle bypassed the “Engagement” slot. It clattered to a stop on a punishment: Lick the assistant’s shoes. “Oh well. Since you look so pathetic, I will give you a consolation prize.” Victoria smiled down at me. “Just finish this little punishment, and I will finally agree to marry you.” Her assistant, Simon, deliberately shoved his leather shoe into a nearby trash can, scraping it against the grime before holding it out to me. The entire banquet hall erupted into roaring laughter. Every single guest expected me to obey. After all, marrying Victoria Harrington was the ultimate dream I had bled for over the past seven years. But as the laughter echoed off the crystal chandeliers, a sudden, crushing exhaustion washed over me. I dropped the velvet ring box. I dropped the bouquet of red roses. “Victoria.” “I don’t want to marry you anymore.” Dead silence fell over the room. Victoria simply smirked. She reached out, tilting my chin up with a manicured finger. “Wow. Is my little puppy learning how to bark?” “The whole world knows that marrying me is your life’s singular purpose.” She was always like this. Completely dismissive of my actual feelings. But even a pet dog gets taken to the vet when it is sick. She just watched me bleed. Sensing the mood, Simon stepped forward. “Get on your knees and lick the shoe, Rowan. This is your final test. Don’t drop the ball now.” The momentarily quiet crowd burst into laughter all over again. “Is it really the final test?” I clenched my fists, locking eyes with Victoria. “If I pass the engagement test, will there be a wedding photoshoot test? If I pass that, will there be a pre-wedding test? A marriage certificate test?” In the beginning, Victoria used to bury her face in my chest and cry about her past. She told me her toxic ex had destroyed her ability to trust. She said she stopped believing in love until she met me. She begged me to prove that I could withstand the test of time. For seven years, she pushed me away hundreds of times. I never left. I stood by her like a stone pillar. Eventually, I thought I had proven myself. I proposed. Instead of a yes, she listened to Simon and brought out that twisted roulette wheel. Let fate decide, she said. The chance of the needle landing on “Accept Proposal” was exactly one percent. The other ninety-nine percent were humiliating punishments, all centered around serving Simon. One time, the wheel decreed I had to be Simon’s errand boy. He treated me worse than a stray animal. I fetched his coffee. I stood outside the restroom stall to hand him toilet paper. I was forced to be his driver and denied food for a whole day. At a business dinner that night, he made me take all his shots. I drank until my stomach hemorrhaged. When Victoria visited me in the hospital, she didn’t reprimand Simon. She just sighed and said, “A bet is a bet. Let’s hope fate is on your side next time you propose.” I used to think fate would eventually throw me a bone. I used to think Victoria would finally see my devotion, or at least pity me. So, I meticulously planned another proposal. And failed again. I drew a punishment to scrub the corporate bathrooms for a month, with Simon as my supervisor. Even when I polished the tiles until they mirrored the ceiling, Simon found flaws. Every employee who walked past snickered at me. They whispered that the Vice President of the company lived worse than a dog. When Victoria heard the gossip, she did nothing. Instead, she temporarily stripped me of my VP title and gave it to Simon. She took him to every high-profile gala. He basked in the spotlight while I scrubbed urinals. When I finally broke down and asked her why, she looked at me with disappointment. “Rowan, it is not that I don’t care. I just have to maintain absolute fairness in front of the company. After seven years together, can’t you understand my position? Be a good puppy and just obey.” Looking at her disappointed eyes, I actually brainwashed myself into thinking I hadn’t done enough. The cycle repeated. Until yesterday, when I accidentally overheard a conversation between her and Simon. 2 “Boss, if Rowan actually hits that one percent chance someday, will you really marry him?” Simon asked. “You don’t have to call me boss in private.” Victoria laughed lightly. “I am the heiress to a corporate empire. Rowan is a nobody from a working-class family.” “What right does he have to marry me?” “You grew up with me. You are my father’s most trusted aide. You are out of his league by a mile. Even if he gets lucky and lands on the engagement slot, there are still wedding photos, the license, the ceremony. I can easily create a new hurdle at every step.” Simon chuckled, his voice thick with excitement. “I will make sure to work hard on those hurdles, then.” That night, a drunk Victoria leaned into Simon’s embrace. And I stood frozen outside the door, feeling my heart shatter into dust. This pathetic, self-sacrificing illusion of love was nothing but a sick joke. I was done. So tonight, this tenth proposal was my final, exhausted act of rebellion. Back in the banquet hall, Victoria ignored my question. Her posture grew even more arrogant. “Rowan!” “When we first got together, I told you I was highly sensitive. I need constant proof of your sincerity. Now, things get a little tough, and you want to quit? You are nothing but a total hypocrite!” Her beautiful eyes glared at me with pure venom. “If you truly love Victoria, you should accept everything about her, shouldn’t you?” Simon chimed in, fanning the flames. “Looking at you now, your devotion is totally fake.” A hollow laugh escaped my lips. What the hell counted as sincere? Did I need to carve my chest open and hand them my beating heart? What kind of fake lover would endure a highly volatile woman who threatened to break up hundreds of times over seven years? What kind of hypocrite swallows his pride to propose ten times in the face of public humiliation? The words reached the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back down. Debating with them was pointless. I turned around and walked toward the exit in silence. “Rowan!” Victoria suddenly panicked. She lunged forward, grabbing my arm. Her voice dropped into a cold threat. “You can walk out that door. But if you do, you forfeit everything you have right now.” I stopped in my tracks. “After seven years together.” I looked at her. “Do you really think I stayed with you for the money?” Victoria lifted her chin, her lips curling into a sneer. “What else could it be? My father introduced me to dozens of billionaire heirs. None of them could handle my temper for more than a few days before running for the hills. Why did a broke loser like you stick around? If it isn’t for the money, what is it?” Once upon a time, she used to curl up in my arms like a kitten and say, Rowan, your love is the only pure thing in my life. You don’t want anything from me. I will cherish this forever. Now, the veil was ripped away. Every word she just spoke was her true, ugly reality. “Let everyone here be my witness.” I took a deep breath, scanning the faces of the whispering guests before locking eyes with Victoria one last time. “I announce that as of today, I am walking away from everything.” With that, I ripped my arm out of her grip and walked out. I didn’t look back once. Behind me, Victoria’s hands balled into tight fists. Simon leaned in to comfort her. “Don’t worry. It is easy to go from rags to riches, but impossible to go back. Give Rowan a few days. He will come crawling back to beg for forgiveness.” “I heard a new Michelin-star restaurant opened downtown. Let’s go grab a bite!” The surrounding crowd eagerly agreed. Victoria finally nodded. But they were wrong. I had never lived a life of luxury. 3 Since the day I met Victoria, I never asked her for a single expensive gift. My salary was standard market rate for my position. To prove I was worthy of her, I worked myself to the bone. I secured over a dozen massive contracts for her company. My industry peers called me a workaholic machine. Several rival conglomerates had even secretly offered me lucrative positions. When I got back to my apartment, I dragged out a heavy cardboard box filled with leather-bound journals and tossed them into a metal fire pit. Years ago, Victoria demanded I write down every little detail of our relationship, claiming we would read them together when we grew old. Now, staring at pages filled with my desperate devotion, I just felt nauseous. As the journals turned to gray ash, I finished packing my single suitcase. Just then, the front door clicked open. Simon walked in, supporting a heavily intoxicated Victoria. “Rowan.” “You never deserved her. You were just a temporary toy for when she was in a bad mood.” “I am the man she is going to marry. The entire Harrington family approves of me.” Simon pointed to a dark purple hickey on his neck. “See this? Here is the proof.” I always knew there was something going on between them. Victoria’s constant defense of Simon made it obvious. I just never realized the full extent of her cruelty. She was stringing me along for a sick power trip while sleeping with him behind my back. “If you know what is good for you, pack your trash and leave. Stop playing these pathetic hard-to-get games,” Simon sneered before strutting out the door. “Rowan!” Victoria, slumped on the sofa, blindly reached out and grabbed my wrist. She mumbled, “Where is my hangover soup? Why haven’t you made it yet?” “There will never be another bowl of soup.” I shook my head and reached for my suitcase. Victoria suddenly bolted upright, throwing her arms around my neck. She leaned in, trying to force a kiss onto my lips. In the past, I would have kissed her back like my life depended on it. Tonight, I shoved her away. She collapsed back onto the cushions. “Rowan, do you love me? Do you even love me?” she slurred, her eyes half-closed. It was a question she asked constantly. And I had always given her the answer she wanted. “No. I don’t love you anymore.” I zipped up my bag, grabbed the handle, and walked out into the cold night air. When I arrived at my parents’ small suburban home, they had a massive dinner waiting on the table. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t pry. My mother just stroked my hair and said, “Son, if you are tired, just rest. Tell us what you want to eat. This house will always be your safe harbor.” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. For seven years, my entire universe revolved around Victoria. I chased a cold, distant moon, completely neglecting the warm sun right beside me. But my parents never blamed me. They never tested me. They only wanted me to be happy. After dinner, I lay in my tiny childhood bedroom. It lacked the marble floors and silk sheets of the city, but it was the most peaceful I had felt in years. Then, my phone buzzed. It was Richard Harrington, Victoria’s father. “You poor piece of trash! When are you going to stop leaching off my daughter?” Every time he called, it was the exact same script. And every time, I swallowed my pride, swore I wouldn’t leave, and promised to prove my worth. This time, I fired back. “Trash? Are you looking in a mirror? As of today, I have absolutely nothing to do with your family. Stop harassing me.” I hung up. I blocked his number. I blocked his entire staff. The next morning, the shrill ring of my phone woke me up. It was Victoria. 4 “Rowan!” “Have you completely lost your mind? You dared to curse at my father? You actually packed your bags and ran away? Do not take this tantrum too far!” “My patience is running very thin. Do you understand me?” She wasn’t calling to apologize. She was calling to assert dominance. “I wasn’t joking.” “We are done.” I gave her a flat response and hit the end call button. Two minutes later, she called back. “Are you really throwing a fit? You are throwing your career away too?” Her tone had shifted. It was colder, more calculated. “Yes,” I replied. “Did you forget the non-compete clause you signed? If you resign without my approval, you owe the company a million-dollar penalty.” Victoria chuckled darkly. “However, I am feeling generous. I will give you one chance to wipe that debt clean.” “Tonight is the corporate camping retreat. Come out to the old spot and spin the wheel!” I froze. A million dollars was a death sentence for my family. I had no choice but to take the gamble. That evening, I drove up to the remote mountain campsite. The massive carnival wheel was waiting. The “Cancel Debt/Breakup” slot was narrowed down to a tiny one percent sliver. The other ninety-nine percent was a single, terrifying punishment: Jump into the nearby abandoned swimming pool, which was currently teeming with snakes. “Rowan.” “Take a good look at the punishment. I remember you are deathly afraid of snakes, right? I suggest you drop to your knees and apologize right now. Otherwise, when you miss that one percent, you are taking a swim.” Victoria narrowed her eyes, a victorious smirk playing on her lips. I really couldn’t understand her. She obviously despised me. Why was she trying so hard to keep me on a leash? Was my suffering just that entertaining? “Yeah, Rowan. Beg for mercy,” Simon mocked, walking up to me. He leaned in, dropping his voice to a malicious whisper. “I slipped a few dozen highly venomous vipers into that pit. If you jump, you are a dead man.” “Don’t blame me for being ruthless. Blame yourself for not knowing your place. You should have walked away gracefully.” I took a deep, shaky breath and walked straight toward the wheel. Even if the chances were microscopic, I had to try. I would rather risk death than spend another second trapped in this sick, twisted game. “Rowan!” “Are you insane? Did you not hear me? There are thousands of snakes down there!” Victoria stood frozen in shock. She never expected me to actually risk it. She thought I would break. I ignored her. I reached out, gripped the cold plastic edge of the wheel, and pulled down with all my strength. Under the watchful eyes of the entire company, the wheel spun into a blur of colors. Gradually, the clicking slowed down. Tick. Tick. Tick.

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After my father went bankrupt, he leveraged his past kindness to force a former scholarship student to marry me. We had a marriage of pure resentment, no love, just… technique. One evening, as I imperiously demanded he warm my feet again, a barrage of comments flashed before my eyes: [Seriously, this side character needs a reality check. Treating the male lead like a dog every single day.] [Useless rich girl, can’t do anything but blow the male lead’s money. When will he divorce her already?] [Just wait until the cool-headed, ambitious childhood friend heroine appears. This side character will throw such tantrums, and the male lead will finally be fed up.] [Later, the side character constantly targeted the heroine, was thrown out of the mansion by the male lead, ended up scavenging for food, and was eventually run over by a car. What a satisfying ending!] My outstretched foot snapped back instantly. I stared at David, who looked thoroughly annoyed. I swallowed hard. “I, I suddenly don’t feel cold anymore.” 1 David’s eyes were half-lidded, and he gave a slight, cynical tug at the corner of his mouth. “What is it now, princess? Is this your latest trick to torment me?” Heaven help me, was not making him warm my feet also a mistake? Normally, I would have already flown into a rage. But picturing my own miserable fate, I bit back the words that were desperate to escape. “No,” I managed. “I just… don’t feel well. I want to sleep.” David slowly opened his eyes, a flicker of surprise in their depths. He probably hadn’t expected me to be so agreeable, so considerate. His gaze lingered on my face. After a long moment, I thought he would simply lie down and go to sleep. Instead, he reached out and took my ankle, pulling me a little closer. His warm hand touched my skin, and I could feel the dampness of his palm. “Alright, enough games,” he murmured. “Next time, I’ll be gentler, okay?” What? With that, he placed my foot on his bare abdomen. The bedside lamp clicked off, but the comments above my head continued to blaze. [This drama queen has given the male lead PTSD.] [Honestly, if it weren’t for the side character’s dad leveraging his past favor, the male lead wouldn’t have to serve her like a dog.] [But it’s fine. Once the male lead sees through the side character, he’ll bring down her father’s new startup.] [And finally, her father will be hit by a car and die trying to save her. What a poetic ending!] My body gave an involuntary shiver, and I quickly rolled over, muttering an explanation. “It’s too… it’s uncomfortable to sleep like that.” David’s voice was unreadable. “You used to love it that way.” I pressed my lips together. “Not anymore. David, I won’t ever ask you to warm my feet again.” A moment of silence stretched between us. Then, I thought I heard a faint, dismissive chuckle. “Suit yourself.” 2 That night, sleep eluded me. David had been a scholarship student sponsored by my family since middle school. He was aloof, reserved, and quiet, yet incredibly brilliant. After high school, he moved into our house. He kept everyone at arm’s length, but with me, he was always compliant. Even when my father leveraged his past kindness to demand he marry me, David didn’t hesitate. I’d always believed I was special to him. But on the second day of our marriage, I overheard him confessing that he already had someone he liked, someone he’d planned to propose to, but now the opportunity was gone. Hearing that, my world crumbled. It turned out he didn’t love me at all; he was just repaying a debt. An inexplicable hatred welled up within me. I hated him for not telling me the truth. I hated him for being so obedient to my father. As I nursed my resentment, a startling realization hit me: I think I might have fallen for him first. But why should he not like me? Proud as I was, I channeled all my frustration into him. I ordered him around relentlessly. I wouldn’t eat unless he cooked for me. I spent his money extravagantly, even making him pay when I went shopping. And in bed, I ruthlessly drained him, refusing to leave a single drop for the woman he supposedly loved. After we were intimate, I’d make him carry me to the bathroom, and he’d have to wash me before I’d finally sleep. I thought this arrangement was perfectly fine. His body and his money were mine; I wasn’t losing anything. But now, I knew. I was just the villainous, demanding side character. I would push the male lead away, then oppose the heroine, only to face a tragic end. Even my father would be dragged down with me. But what had he done wrong? After my mother passed, he raised me alone, and forcing David to marry me was just his desperate hope that I’d be well cared for. Thinking of this, I made a decision: I would turn over a new leaf before the heroine appeared, securing a better ending for myself and my dear father. 3 I contacted a divorce lawyer. Since David was eventually going to divorce me anyway, I figured if I initiated it first, I might at least salvage a reputation for being understanding. Then, I hired an agency to find a housekeeper to cook dinner. My job wasn’t particularly demanding to begin with. In the past, I would text David constantly, even sending him photos of dogs fighting cats on the street. If he didn’t reply, or replied late, I’d throw a fit. But today, I held back. Even when I landed a huge custom jewelry order, so excited I wanted to jump for joy, I didn’t call him. The comments section was baffled. [Is the side character’s brain finally working? Not going to brag to the male lead?] [What? The evil rich girl is suddenly acting nice? What does this mean?] [This side character is cunning. She’s trying a reverse psychology trick to get the male lead’s attention, little does she know the male lead and heroine are about to reunite in a few days!] My finger paused. I exited David’s chat and sent a message to my dad. [Dad, I’ve booked the restaurant for tomorrow! Birthday boy, get my present ready!] Then I put my phone on silent and continued working on my designs. When I finally stretched and looked up, it was almost 8 PM. I packed up my things, ready to leave. My phone showed one missed call from David. He was like that; if I didn’t answer, he wouldn’t call again. There was also a single text message. [Is your phone broken?] What did that mean? Downstairs, David leaned against his car, smoking. Tall, with long legs, and an undeniable aura. I wondered how long he’d been waiting. The comments resurfaced. [See? The side character’s tricks are working! The male lead is here to serve her again.] [Just you wait, the male lead will definitely destroy her later!] I panicked. I rushed over. “Why are you here?” He extinguished his cigarette, glancing at me. “To pick you up.” He then opened the car door for me. As I leaned in, I saw a bouquet of flowers and the latest smartphone on the passenger seat. I looked at him. David said, casually, “Don’t you love these little everyday gestures?” In the past, I would have been thrilled, and then feigned indifference, saying, “About time you showed some sense.” But today, I just held the gifts in my arms and quietly said, “Thank you.” David froze for a moment. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. I let out a silent sigh of relief. But in the car, he finally spoke. “What, you don’t like them?” My alarm bells rang. “I love them! Absolutely! Anything you give me, I love.” Which wasn’t true at all. I used to be so picky. But now, I dared not find fault. He stared at me intently for a while, then finally turned to start the engine. 4 After changing shoes in the entryway, David took off his jacket, then instinctively rolled up his shirt sleeves. He turned and asked casually, “What do you want for dinner tonight? And just so you know, no more Kung Pao Chicken.” He made that dish too well; I’d ordered it for a week straight. David was heading towards the kitchen, rattling off suggestions: “Your favorite shrimp pasta? Or red wine steak?” Before he could finish, the housekeeper, already in the kitchen, emerged with several dishes. He stopped dead. I quickly hurried to the housekeeper’s side and explained to him. “This is the new housekeeper I hired to cook dinner. You won’t need to cook for me anymore.” I fully expected David to be pleased. Instead, his gaze settled on me, his eyes unreadable. After a long moment, he coolly dropped a single word. “Oh.” Then, without another sound, he retreated to the bedroom. Before he disappeared, he said, “I’m not hungry. I’m quite full.” Naturally, I didn’t dare disturb him. That night, I consciously slept in the guest room. 5 Half-asleep in the middle of the night, I suddenly felt an intense heat behind me. When I finally registered what was happening, David’s gritted voice whispered in my ear. “Princess, do you no longer need my service?” My mind was still hazy, but the barrage of comments snapped me wide awake. [Is this my late-night reward?!] [People say they’re celibate online, but in reality, who wouldn’t be ripping their pants off right now?] [Wait, what is the male lead doing? Why is he looking for the side character?] [It’s just spring, don’t overthink it, side character. It’s just primal instinct.] A strange sensation bloomed at my waist. I instantly pushed David away. In the moonlight, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. If this were before, I might have slapped him. I was the spoiled princess, after all, incapable of enduring the slightest grievance. But now, it was different. David was the male lead, and according to the comments, he might hold my future life and death in his hands. Until the divorce, I should probably avoid offending him. I poked his shoulder, feigning annoyance. “I thought I was dreaming.” His expression softened slightly, then immediately tensed again. “So, in your dreams, who would ever treat you like this?” What? That’s a bit unreasonable, isn’t it? I couldn’t immediately find an excuse, so I changed the subject. I yawned. “I don’t know. I’m so sleepy.” Then, “Go to sleep. We have to work tomorrow.” I lay back down. David remained in his previous position. “Summer,” he said, “you’re acting strange.” My heart constricted. After learning he didn’t love me, I had laid down a rule for David. “No sleeping in separate rooms.” Even if I couldn’t have his heart, I would possess his body. In the beginning, we were both a little awkward. He was always in a hurry, entering me without warning, which made me so furious I’d kick him out of bed. “David, a man needs to have ‘service awareness’ in bed, do you understand?” Later, he changed, little by little. His foreplay became gentler, his technique more refined, and he learned to consider my feelings. Except during my period, we were almost always intimate. But tonight, I not only slept separately but also rejected his advances. In the darkness, I could still feel David’s gaze fixed on me. I nervously lowered my eyes. “I’m a bit tired tonight, not really in the mood.” “Because of work?” Yes and no. But for now, it had to be “yes.” “Mmm,” I hummed. “And I’m worried you’ll be tired too, David.” I added, “How about we just sleep here together tonight?” I suggested, speaking reasonably, without my usual spoiled demeanor, my tone softer than ever before. After a long pause, he lay down and pulled me into an embrace from behind. “If you encounter any difficulties with work, you can always come to me for help.” Before I could answer, the comments popped up. [The docile side character still depends on the male lead for everything.] [Without the male lead, Summer is truly nothing.] [Just wait, the heroine and male lead are childhood sweethearts, hardworking, resilient, and ambitious. Their story is so much better.] [The male lead’s gaze is destined to be drawn to the heroine. Thanks to the drama queen side character for planting the trees, the heroine gets to enjoy the shade.] For some reason, my heart felt like it had been pricked by a tiny needle, a faint ache spreading through me. David’s breath warmed my ear. I gently patted his hand. “Okay.” But then I subtly disentangled myself from his embrace. “I need to catch up on work tomorrow. I’m going to sleep now.” Behind me, his breathing hitched. 6 After a busy day, before leaving work, I remembered seeing Dad on a video call at lunch, still wearing his old tie. Although I’d already prepared his main birthday gift, I quickly rushed to the nearby mall to buy him an extra tie. Habitually, I reached for David’s card, then pulled my hand back, opening my own payment app. “Scan this, please.” As I came out, I unexpectedly bumped into someone. “Summer?” I turned, and Jayden was standing before me. He was as sunny and cheerful as ever, leaning in close. “Who’s the gift for?” “My dad’s birthday today.” “What a coincidence! I was just talking to your dad about a partnership a few days ago. Where are you celebrating tonight? Let me join you.” Jayden was sort of my childhood friend. His family had moved to another city due to his parents’ company project, so I hadn’t expected to see him again. He took my arm, and the conversation flowed easily. I had no reason to refuse, especially since our families might be collaborating in the future. After a few minutes of chatting, my phone buzzed with a message. [I’m off work.] [Where are you?] [I was about to come to your studio to pick you up.] [Want some boba? Room temp, no sugar? Any desserts? There’s a new trendy shop.] [If yes, just give a shout, I’ll go buy it.] The comments section was not pleased. [Enough, I said enough! Is the male lead addicted to being a dog?] [Don’t you think the male lead’s tone is really cold? That’s a sign of annoyance! Spending all day providing emotional support for the side character, he must be sick of it.] [So urgent, I am the King of Urgency. When will the male lead finally get rid of the drama queen side character?] [Let the side character keep ordering the male lead around. Anyway, it’s not my tragic ending.] My mind immediately jumped to my father. He was working so hard to give me a good life, and I didn’t want his efforts to be easily ruined. As long as I stopped acting out and making David angry, then if we broke up amicably later, he probably wouldn’t target my dad, right? So, I quickly replied: “I don’t need anything. You’ve worked hard, so no need to pick me up. Let’s just meet at the restaurant.” [Oh.] The tone was indeed cold. Just as the comments said, he was truly annoyed with me. When I pushed open the restaurant door with Jayden, David, who had been smiling and chatting with my dad, instantly sobered up. “Jayden’s here too?” “Yes, Mr. Davies! You didn’t even call me.” He handed over a gift. “Time was short, I hope you don’t mind.” It was a watch from the same brand as my tie. The clink of a spoon against a porcelain bowl echoed. My gaze flickered to David. His brows were furrowed, his emotions unreadable. “Apologies, I didn’t hold it steady.” The dinner passed relatively harmoniously. As we parted, Jayden smiled at me, his lips curving. “Your jewelry designs are quite unique, Summer. I’ll ask you to custom-order a ring for me sometime.” A business opportunity handed on a silver platter; I wouldn’t say no. I smiled back. “Sure.” Only David beside me remained with a dark expression. 7 Back home, the moment the door closed, he asked, “Did you buy the gift at the mall?” “Yeah.” I took off my jacket, and he took it from me, hanging it neatly. “My phone didn’t get a notification.” I paused, then realized what he meant. He was referring to why I hadn’t used his card. I waved my hand. “It’s just a small thing, no need to use your money for it.” “Oh. Is that so?” he replied. “You used to make me pay even for a hot dog from a street vendor.” That was then. I was a changed woman now. “Dad’s present,” I explained, “it means more if I buy it with my own hard-earned money.” I quickly added, “Ugh, I’m all sweaty, I need a shower.” David pressed his lips together, then turned and walked towards the walk-in closet, preparing my clothes. I saw the white lace underwear set on top and snatched it away, my face flushing. “I’ll do these things myself from now on.” In the steamy bathroom, I thought about the divorce lawyer I was meeting tomorrow. Thankfully, David and I had no children, so there’d be no lasting complications. Just as I was thinking this, the bathroom door opened. David stood there, clad only in a towel, revealing his taut abs, incredibly alluring in the soft light. He walked towards me, step by step, then raised his phone. The screen displayed an incoming call from Jayden. Before I could say anything, David scoffed. “He’s calling you this late?” His voice was cold. “Doesn’t he realize that at this hour, we’d be, you know, having couple time?” What? My eyes widened. The next second, he ended the call, then pinned me against the bathroom door, grabbing my chin and kissing me fiercely. David was different tonight. He was raw, untamed. The kiss was so intense I felt like I was suffocating, unable to resist. I instinctively tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. His lips moved sensuously against mine, his voice hoarse. “Does the princess no longer wish to fulfill her marital duties with me?” What in the world was he talking about? Before I could speak, my mouth was covered again. Later, the bathroom was a wreck. I was so exhausted I didn’t even have the energy to wash myself. I vaguely remembered David carrying me back to bed. 8 The next day, when I woke up, David had already left for work. He had, as usual, prepared breakfast. Although I sensed he wasn’t entirely pleased about me hiring a housekeeper, he hadn’t fired her. Still, he started coming home earlier and earlier. When the housekeeper cooked, he’d still present a few dishes of his own, then sit across from me, watching. I’d try a bit of everything and gently advise him not to work so hard, that the professionals had it covered. I tried not to bother him with anything. But even with me being so considerate, his face grew darker by the day. “So, you don’t need me for anything anymore?” he’d grumble. So, I became even more cautious. That day, the client from my last commission asked to meet to discuss details. I set off with my sketches, not telling David. The meeting was at a private club. As soon as I sat down, the comments began to flash. [The heroine is being bullied in the private room next door, why isn’t the male lead here to save her yet?] [It’s weird, the male lead has already reunited with the heroine, but why isn’t their relationship progressing?] [Progress? That would be marital infidelity.] [Shut up, upstairs! The male lead was forced to marry the side character anyway. They have no feelings for each other.] [No feelings, yet they’re getting intimate every day? Laughable.] The comments flickered relentlessly. I ignored the ones mocking me; only one thought occupied my mind: David was about to perform a hero’s rescue. Even knowing this, my heart felt an inexplicable pang of sadness. I couldn’t help but push open my door and walk towards the room next door. [Tsk tsk tsk, the side character is going to ruin things again.] [It doesn’t matter. The male lead will ignore her completely, and even bump into her, focused only on saving the heroine.] [Then she’ll see the male lead rescue the heroine and her face will be twisted with rage.] I froze. I considered turning back. If they were destined, why should I intrude? But as soon as my foot shifted, the sound of breaking glass erupted from inside. [Where’s the male lead? Your childhood friend is being bullied!] [Don’t worry, the male lead has psychic powers. He’ll rush down from upstairs any second now.] Fine. Let David save her. But time ticked by, second after second, and there was no sign of him in the hallway. Through the door crack, I saw the heroine, dressed in a server uniform, being harassed by some entitled rich kid, Todd. “You can’t afford to pay for this outfit, you know.” “How about you take off one item of clothing for every thousand dollars?” “Or maybe spend a night with me, how about that?” Laughter erupted from the group. The heroine clutched her clothes tightly, but still defiantly looked up. “I didn’t knock over the drink. You can’t bully me like this.” “She said I’m bullying her, ha ha ha.” Todd stood up and lifted her chin. “Do you even know what bullying is? Huh?” Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. I couldn’t take it anymore! I kicked open the door. “Todd, what kind of strength is it to gang up on a girl?” The room fell silent for a moment. All eyes turned to me, including the heroine’s. I saw her eyes suddenly light up. She looked familiar. Todd scoffed. “Summer Davies, what business is it of yours?” He added, “You think your family is still like it used to be? No one would give you the time of day if you hadn’t married a rich husband.” I used to hate him. In school, he often bothered David, and I beat him up many times. “What’s ‘my family’ or ‘your family’ got to do with it? I, Summer Davies, do what I please.” I slowly rolled up my sleeves. “What are you, a nobody, to dare shout at me like that? Have you forgotten how I used to pin you to the ground and beat you until you cried and begged me to stop?” The comments scrolled furiously: [Holy crap, the side character went full alpha?!] [Suddenly, the side character seems kinda cool.] I pointed at the heroine. “She’s with me. Are you sure you want to mess with her?” Maybe it was my strong aura, but Todd instinctively took half a step back. “I… you f**king…” He dared not. “Coward.” I walked over, took the heroine’s hand, and led her to the door. The door closed, leaving only Todd in the room, raging impotently. The heroine looked at me, her face flushed. “Thank you, Summer.” I raised an eyebrow. “You know me?” 9 In the lounge area, a gust of wind seemed to blow through. Before I could fully process it, David was standing before me, pulling me to and fro, checking me over. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice urgent. “Are you hurt?” I was completely bewildered. “I’m fine, why?” “Did Todd bully you?” I shook my head, pulling the heroine forward to face him. “He bullied her.” David seemed to finally come to his senses, his gaze falling on the heroine. “Celeste?” Celeste didn’t seem particularly eager to engage with him. She just gave a casual “Mmm.” Then she turned back to me, her eyes curving into a smile. “I’m going back to work, Summer. I’ll treat you to dinner next time, okay?” After she left, the comments finally reappeared: [Why do I feel like the heroine doesn’t really like the male lead?] [That’s exactly right, childhood sweethearts are always like that.] [And the less the heroine cares about the male lead, the more intrigued he’ll be, right? He’s staring at her back now, isn’t he?] I glanced sideways. David was indeed looking at Celeste’s retreating figure, lost in thought. Sure enough, his gaze would eventually be drawn to the heroine. I inwardly scoffed at myself. Summer, you really outdid yourself, saving your love rival even though you’re supposed to be the villainess. Trying to swallow the bitterness, I pulled my hand away. “David, you’re hurting my hand.” He came to, “What are you doing here?” “Working.” Just then, the wealthy client I was meeting arrived. I didn’t look at his expression, turning to greet her instead.

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1 The day before the wedding, Eric accompanied me to the bridal shop to pick out my gown. I had just stepped out of the fitting room. Eric, in a rush, stripped off his suit jacket, turning to leave. “Manon is in trouble. Ava can’t handle it alone. I need to get to the hospital. Tomorrow’s wedding is off.” Once, I would have stopped him, demanding to know who was more important: Ava and her daughter, or me. But this time, watching his retreating back, I didn’t try to hold him back. This was the ninety-ninth time he had canceled our wedding for Ava and Manon. Half an hour later, Ava updated her social media. [You are my only reliance in this world.] The photo in the post showed Eric hugging Ava, with Manon calling out “Mommy, Daddy.” They looked exactly like a family of three. My parents sighed helplessly at this. “Summer, is the wedding canceled again tomorrow? But we’ve already sent out the invitations.” My expression was calm as I shook my head. “The wedding will proceed as planned. My groom isn’t him.” … Hearing my words, Mom quickly pulled out spare invitations from her bag. Dad’s gaze fell on the groom’s name section. Both of them visibly relaxed. “If you’re marrying him, your dad and I will finally be at ease.” “Summer, Dad always said Eric wasn’t worth your lifelong trust. You’ve finally realized it.” Some people only learn the hard way. This time, I chose to let go. After settling on the gown, Eric happened to call. “I remember you always wanted to check out that popular internet-famous Western restaurant downtown. I specifically found a scalper to book a table for lunch.” I originally wanted to refuse. But thinking of our six years together, it should at least end with some dignity. I walked to the entrance of the Western restaurant. Eric reached out to take my bag, his other hand instinctively reaching for my waist. I avoided his touch and walked straight into the restaurant. Watching his hand hang awkwardly in the air, his brow furrowed, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Summer, don’t throw a tantrum.” “Manon suddenly fell ill. Ava had no one else to call but me.” “You know, I promised Brandon before he passed away that I would take care of Ava and Manon.” I didn’t respond, sitting down to browse the menu. He sat beside me, irritably tugging at his tie. “A promise made is a debt unpaid. You wouldn’t want a man who goes back on his word, would you?” I took out my phone to scan the QR code and order. He waited a moment, and seeing my continued silence, he sighed deeply. “Alright, don’t be angry. The next wedding definitely won’t be canceled again. I said I’d give you the perfect wedding, and I won’t break my promise.” But his promises only applied to Ava and Manon. I always had to make concessions for them. Just then, a waiter approached. “Miss, excuse me, your table has already ordered a four-person meal. Adding more might be too much. Do you need me to cancel it?” Before I could react, a familiar female voice sounded behind me. “The line for the restroom was too long. Summer, you’ve waited a while, haven’t you?” Ava, holding Manon’s hand, walked towards us. She sat on Eric’s other side, while Manon squeezed into the space between Eric and me. I froze for a moment. Eric opened his mouth to speak, but Ava quickly interjected. “It’s all Eric’s fault. I just mentioned wanting to try this Western restaurant, and he remembered, even paying three times the price for scalped tickets.” “Summer, you don’t need to cancel your order. Eat what you want.” Watching her assert her dominance, I couldn’t help but smile wryly. In the past, I thought Eric didn’t understand Ava’s intentions and tactics. Now, it seemed he had always enjoyed the thrill of being fought over by us. I looked at the waiter beside me. “Cancel it…” “Ah—it hurts so much! Daddy, Aunt Summer pinched my arm and made it swell!” 2 Manon lifted her swollen, red arm, crying hysterically. “Summer, if you have any complaints with me, come at me directly. Why are you bullying a child? Children are innocent.” Ava’s eyes were red-rimmed, filled with hurt and helplessness as she looked at Eric. “Eric, thank you for taking care of us all these years. Let’s not see each other again. If she dares to abuse a child right in front of you, I can’t imagine what might happen later…” As she spoke, she took Manon’s hand, about to leave. Manon tugged at Eric’s jacket, refusing to let go. “I don’t want to leave Daddy. I want Daddy and Mommy to be together forever. Aunt Summer is a bad person; she wants to steal my Daddy.” The commotion at our table instantly attracted the attention of other diners. Several influencers, live-streaming, immediately raised their phones, aiming the cameras at my face. “Folks, I came to review a restaurant and ended up witnessing a mistress provoking the legitimate wife. Quick, screenshot this mistress’s face so she doesn’t steal your husband.” “That poor child! The mistress dares to abuse a child right in front of the parents. Imagine what she’d be like as a stepmother!” The waiter, who had been kind to me earlier, also turned cold. “Miss, please leave. Our restaurant does not welcome mistresses!” As the situation escalated, I looked at Eric with a pleading gaze, hoping he would step forward to explain for me. But he only shot me a cold glance. “Summer, Manon is just a child. How could you lay a hand on her?” “Eric, I didn’t pinch her.” I pointed to the security camera above our heads. “If you don’t believe me, go check the surveillance footage now.” No sooner had I finished speaking than Manon suddenly fainted to the floor. “Eric, Manon fainted! Quickly, take Manon to the hospital!” Ava screamed. Eric scooped up Manon and rushed towards the door. As he passed through the glass door, he paused and looked back at me. I was surrounded by the live-streaming influencers and “justice-seeking” customers. All sorts of insults rained down on me. Just as I thought Eric had had a change of heart, he suddenly spoke. “Summer, I never thought you could be so vicious. Come back to me when you realize your mistake.” With that, he left without looking back. He left me alone to face the insults of the influencers and passersby. Finally, a customer who couldn’t stand it anymore called the police, and I was able to leave the restaurant. Greasy soup dripped down my hair, and my white dress was stained with food, emitting a foul odor. No taxi driver was willing to take me, so I had to walk home. Pushing open the front door, Eric sat on the living room sofa, smoking. Even though he tried his best to control his expression, I still saw the disgust in his eyes. “You’re back?” I looked at him calmly. “Eric, let’s end this.” His hand, holding the cigarette, paused. He stood up and walked towards me. “Is it because of what happened at lunch?” He stared at my face, took a deep drag of his cigarette, then exhaled a plume of smoke. “Summer, I thought you could understand the situation. If I had clarified for you in the restaurant, Ava and Manon would have been the ones hurt.” “Besides, this is all because you were unreasonably jealous and hurt Manon. You brought this upon yourself; you can’t blame anyone else.” “Manon has already forgiven you, and Ava said she won’t hold it against you. Let’s just let this go.” With that, he raised his hand, intending to stroke my head. But he quickly retracted it when he noticed the stains. “You should go clean yourself up first.” “Eric.” Watching his back as he turned away, I took a deep breath. “Tomorrow is my wedding.” 3 He stopped walking abruptly, then spun around. His patience was clearly at an end. “You know Manon needs round-the-clock care for a week every time she gets sick. How can I have time to marry you tomorrow?” “Summer, can’t you be a little more understanding?” I looked at him expressionlessly. “I’m informing you, not asking for your permission.” His face darkened. “Can you stop being so unreasonable? I told you, I’m busy tomorrow.” “If you want to have a wedding without a groom, go right ahead. It’ll be you and your parents who are humiliated then!” I clenched my fists, meeting his gaze. “My wedding doesn’t need you.” He suddenly laughed. “Summer, besides me, who else would marry you?” The words had barely left his lips when a loud crash suddenly came from the nursery. My heart tightened. I quickly walked to the nursery and pushed open the door. Plush toys were scattered across the floor, and a small outfit my mother had sewn was shredded into rags. Manon sat on the children’s bed that my father had built. Broken jars and powder were scattered at Ava’s feet. Her tear-filled eyes blinked, her face etched with helplessness and fear. “I accidentally broke this jar.” Eric rushed over, bumping past me, who was blocking the doorway, and took Ava’s hands. “Ava, are you hurt?” Ava’s gaze slid past Eric, giving me a challenging smile. I knew she did it on purpose. But I couldn’t control myself and rushed forward, slapping her. Ava clutched her red and swollen face, her voice choked with grievance. “I’m sorry, I just saw dust on the jar and wanted to help wipe it clean. I didn’t mean to drop it, I really wasn’t trying to…” Eric grabbed my arm, forcing me to bow to Ava. “Summer, you’ve gone too far! Apologize!” “Eric, that was our child!” Two years ago, Eric and I had a child. The jar Ava broke was our child’s urn. Manon, sensing Ava’s unspoken cue, covered her ears and screamed, running out of the room. “Manon!” Ava followed her out. Eric’s face was grim. “Look what you’ve done! How can a dead person be more important than a living one? Did you really have to resort to violence?” I stared incredulously into his eyes. “Eric, you know what the nursery means to me. That was your child. How could you…” “Summer!” He sharply interrupted me. “If you hadn’t bullied Manon this afternoon, would I have had to bring her home to comfort her? Everything I’m doing is to atone for your sins.” Just then, Ava’s sobs suddenly drifted in from outside. Eric instantly panicked, violently shaking off my arm, and swiftly ran out. Unprepared, I fell to the floor. My forehead hit the ground, and everything went dark. The memory of that torrential downpour two years ago suddenly flashed in my mind. A phone call from Ava had pulled Eric away, leaving me, five months pregnant, on the roadside in the pouring rain. A drunk driver, speeding, crashed straight into me. That night, Eric knelt by my hospital bed, slapping himself repeatedly, begging for my forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. I never expected an accident to happen.” “I just didn’t want to let down Brandon’s dying wish. I never meant to hurt you.” “Summer, I let you and our child down. After we get married, we’ll try for another child. They’ll come back to us.” That time, I forgave him again. But now he was saying our child was less important than Ava and Manon. “Summer.” Eric’s face suddenly loomed large before me. Just as I blinked, trying to distinguish between a dream hallucination and reality, Manon suddenly came closer. “See? I told you Aunt Summer was faking it.” 4 Seeing my eyes clear, Eric immediately stood up and shielded Manon behind him, as if afraid I would resort to violence again. I got up, but before I could speak, Ava quickly walked forward and knelt before me. “It was wrong of me to break the urn. If you want to hit or scold someone, come at me. Manon is innocent; she’s just a child. Please don’t hurt her.” Eric pulled Ava up, his face livid. “Summer, don’t push it too far! First, you resorted to violence, and now you’re making someone kneel to you. What exactly do you want?” “You’re the one in the wrong. Why aren’t you apologizing and admitting your mistake?” “I was wrong.” A sarcastic smile played on my lips. I was blind and foolish, falling for the wrong person, causing my parents to worry about me. “I’m sorry.” I was tired; I didn’t want to be entangled with them anymore. Eric was visibly stunned. I had never backed down in arguments with Ava and Manon. My apology made him inexplicably flustered, his voice softening a few degrees. “I’m not really blaming you. Just don’t act so impulsively next time.” A hint of unwillingness flashed in Ava’s eyes, and she tugged at Eric’s sleeve, aggrieved. “Eric, since this nursery is where the ashes are kept, let’s not stay here. I’m afraid Manon will have nightmares sleeping here.” “Manon and I should go back home. I’m just worried Manon might suddenly get sick…” “I’ll go back with you.” Eric blurted out, but seeing my gaze, he looked a little guilty. “Manon’s condition gets very serious when she’s sick, and Ava can’t take care of her alone. I’ll stay with them during the day and come home at night.” I nodded indifferently and turned to walk towards the bedroom. Soon after, the front door closed. The three of them had left. Looking at the wedding decorations filling the house, I only felt irony. After a hot shower, I sent a message to the real estate agent, putting the wedding house up for sale. The house was bought by my parents for Eric and me. Since I had decided to separate, I no longer needed this house. Then I started packing my luggage. In the evening, Eric sent a message. [Manon got sick again. I won’t be home tonight. You don’t need to leave a light on for me. Get some good rest. Love you.] Immediately after, Ava updated her social media. [My daughter just mentioned wanting to see fireworks, and he drove three hundred kilometers to bring us here.] The accompanying photo showed Manon riding on Eric’s shoulders, watching fireworks. I “liked” the post, then picked up my luggage and left. That night, the video of me being called a mistress at the internet-famous Western restaurant went viral. Many relatives and friends who recognized me came forward to explain on my behalf. Public opinion instantly reversed. Overwhelming insults turned towards Ava and Manon. Just then, Eric suddenly called, his voice filled with anger. “Summer, you’re truly two-faced. Apologizing during the day, then instigating your relatives and friends to slander Ava and Manon online at night.” “If anything happens to Ava and Manon because of your malicious intent, I will absolutely never forgive you!” Before I could explain, he hung up. Five minutes later, Eric started a live stream to clarify things for Ava and Manon. “Hello everyone, I am the person involved in today’s trending topic. Ava is my wife, and Manon is my daughter. Please do not harm them.” “Summer and I are merely friends. I’m not sure why she would ask people to spread rumors about our relationship online.” After the live stream, Eric sent a text message. [I promised Brandon I would take care of Ava and Manon. Only by saying this will netizens leave them alone.] [Don’t look at online messages recently. Netizens have short memories; in a few days, no one will recognize you.] I looked at his message and cried, laughing. The last trace of affection dissipated with those tears. The next morning, Eric returned home to find the password lock changed. He immediately called me to demand an explanation. “Summer, what kind of fit are you throwing now? What do you mean by changing the front door password lock?” “Do you even want me to marry you anymore?” But a light laugh came from the other end of the line. “Buddy, who are you? My wife, you think you have any right to marry her?”

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It was the tenth year of the apocalypse. After countless brushes with death, I finally found my best friend, Ivy Chen, who had been separated from me for years. She had a very capable boyfriend, and their relationship seemed intimate. But then, I saw the comments appear. [Oh, look! The drama queen side character is finally going offline! She’s been clinging to the male lead, causing the main couple’s romance to stagnate. I’m so sick of it!] [Good riddance! She’s lazy and dramatic; people like her don’t deserve to live in the apocalypse.] [Who understands? I wanted to punch her when she forced the male lead to go out at night to find her a face mask…] [Once this cannon fodder best friend arrives, the drama queen side character will quarrel with the male lead multiple times for her, even almost getting the male lead killed. The male lead’s last bit of affection for her will be completely gone.] [Female lead, appear quickly! I love seeing strong, capable women!] The “drama queen side character” the comments were referring to was my best friend, Ivy Chen. And Ivy… she was eventually despised by her boyfriend and became zombie fodder. But, were they perhaps mistaken about something? I’m number one on the ability rankings, you know? No matter how dramatic my best friend is, I can protect her. 1. I was surrounded by zombies, my life hanging by a thread. And to make matters worse, someone was trying to exploit my weakened state to dig out my crystal core and steal my ability. I feigned unconsciousness. The moment the woman approached me, reaching out her hand, a blinding bolt of lightning erupted from my palm. In just one second, the woman ceased to breathe. I pushed her away, tossed her body downstairs to attract the zombies’ attention, then fled in a panic from the other side. … After half a month of escaping, I finally reached another safe zone. My ability was completely depleted, and my physical endurance had reached its limit. I collapsed on the road. In a daze, I heard a familiar voice. “Liam, look, someone’s there!” “Go save her, please! Hurry!” Such a familiar voice… “Ivy! Are you trying to get Liam killed? We just came to the outskirts for supplies! A zombie horde is coming, if we don’t leave now, we’ll all die!” “Exactly, Ivy, you need to pick your moments for drama!” “Liam, you’re really going?! No way… that woman looks dead.” Her companions seemed extremely displeased. I listened to the commotion, struggling to open my eyes. Because I’d heard a familiar name. Ivy. My best friend. I used my last ounce of strength to roll over, propping myself up to look. On the pedestrian bridge opposite, five or six people were watching me warily. The man leading them was well-built, with a strong presence; clearly, an ability user. But I didn’t have time to properly examine him, my gaze fixed solely on the woman nestled beside him. Compared to before, she was a bit darker, a bit thinner. But she wasn’t injured, and she was alive. A surge of immense joy burst within me. I wanted to call out to her, but the next second, I collapsed heavily to the ground, utterly exhausted. Before losing consciousness, I heard Ivy’s desperate shout. “Seraphina!” 2. They saved me. When I woke up, night had fallen. Ivy was hugging my neck, sobbing uncontrollably. “Oh, thank goodness you’re alive! Thank goodness!” I patted her back. Just as I was about to offer comfort, I suddenly saw those strange comments appear in mid-air. I read through the comments again and again, finally understanding the whole story. Apparently, we were in a post-apocalyptic romance novel. Ivy Chen was the “drama queen side character” they spoke of. Dramatic, lazy, and lacking common sense. And my appearance, as the “cannon fodder best friend,” would hasten Ivy’s inevitable demise. The male lead, Liam Thorne, would only feel guilt after Ivy’s death, leaving an emotional wound. This wound would be healed by the female lead. The comments kept scrolling. [I love seeing strong, capable women! The female lead and male lead are a match made in heaven, okay? One has lightning abilities, the other has water abilities. Used correctly, the power doubles!] [Yeah, and what’s even better is that the female lead has psychological trauma from accidentally killing a cannon fodder character. After they meet, they grow and heal together. This kind of storyline is so addictive!] [Female lead, please appear quickly, I really can’t stand this drama queen anymore.] Lightning abilities? I frowned. Like mine? 3. “Seraphina, why aren’t you saying anything?” Ivy, seeing no reaction from me, reached out and pinched my cheek. “Did you get too scared?” I snapped back to reality, looking at her face. Ivy smiled at me, tears in her eyes. That smile was still as pure as ever, just like before… My eyes felt a familiar sting, and I reached out and hugged her tightly. “No, I’m just… too happy.” … I’d always known Ivy had her flaws. Before the apocalypse, her family was well-off, and her parents pampered her like a princess. So she was inevitably a bit of a perfectionist. She liked to eat beautiful food, wear beautiful dresses, and make friends with everyone. Initially, I didn’t like her. Because I was dark-hearted; I envied her. I envied her looks, her family, everything about her. But one day, she walked over to my desk one afternoon. I looked up, bewildered, but she simply held out her hand to me. “Hi, Seraphina. Would you like to be my friend? I think you’re super cool.” Half an hour earlier, I had just been made to stand in the corner for an entire class for talking back to the teacher. She leaned in and whispered, “Actually, I hate Mr. Daniels too.” My heart was dark, and I didn’t dare openly say I disliked her. I just stayed silent. Ivy took my silence as agreement. She clapped her hands. “Great! We’re friends now!” I found her too delicate, crying red-eyed over minor bumps and scrapes. I found her too fussy, discarding anything with the slightest imperfection. I also found her tactless, constantly chattering noisily in my ear. I knew my place. I knew a rich girl like Ivy wouldn’t consider me a real friend… Until the second semester of junior high, when I had a car accident. I was an orphan to begin with, living with my aunt and uncle. When they learned I might never walk again, my aunt and uncle hesitated for a few days before deciding to give up on me and send me to a rural orphanage. At that time, I had lost all hope for life. But I never expected that the ray of light that shone back into my life would be Ivy. She came to visit me. Chattering ceaselessly in my ear. Finally, as she left, she said she would come to see me every day. She didn’t break her promise. For the next three months, she didn’t miss a single day. It was only later that I learned she had taken all the New Year’s money she had saved since childhood and used it to pay for my medical expenses. She argued with my aunt and uncle. Saying I was a human being and shouldn’t be casually discarded. Still so self-righteous… But I, however, began to find her fussiness and self-righteousness somewhat endearing. 4. Ivy and I truly became friends. It could be said that my indulgence and leniency were the main culprits behind Ivy’s dramatic and delicate nature. People who knew us would always say, “Seraphina, just keep spoiling Ivy like this. If she can’t find a partner later, are you planning to support her for life?” I buried myself in writing my business plan, not even looking up. “It’s not out of the question.” Ivy burst into laughter. “Hahahaha, you guys think you can drive a wedge between Seraphina and me? No way!” … My startup had just begun, the company hadn’t found its footing yet, when the apocalypse arrived… Ivy and I got separated while fleeing. I searched for her for a very, very long time. I never expected to see her again, now in the tenth year of the apocalypse. And those so-called comments told me. My best friend, Ivy Chen, was about to go offline. 5. I watched the comments without showing any outward signs of surprise. I pretended to be an ordinary person without abilities, settling down in this safe zone. I gradually came to understand Ivy’s situation. She and Liam truly loved each other, and Liam was willing to tolerate and accommodate her. But her personality and behavior still caused a lot of dissatisfaction among others… I had no doubt that if Liam ever got into trouble, or if he stopped loving Ivy, then Ivy wouldn’t be able to stay in this safe zone. As I pondered, I heard Ivy’s voice from ahead. “Liam, can you please give Seraphina an extra share of supplies? She’s so thin, she must have suffered a lot these past few years.” Ivy’s voice was low. “You know, I’ve been looking for her.” Liam looked a bit troubled. “The supplies we’ve given her are already more than others. Giving her another share might cause resentment.” The comments were cheering. [Exactly! Keep it up, side character, keep being dramatic.] [The male lead is already getting a bit impatient with the side character.] [I can’t wait to see the drama queen side character go offline!] [Agree!] [Same!] My face darkened, and I deliberately made some noise. Liam, hearing the sound, immediately looked over cautiously. Ivy also saw me. “Seraphina!” “Why did you come out?” She scanned me from head to toe. “Are you rested?” I smiled at her. “I’m fine.” On the other side, Liam nodded curtly at me, then turned and left. Liam was extremely proud. In ten years of the apocalypse, he had gradually grown to disdain ordinary people who couldn’t help with anything. Even though I was Ivy’s best friend, he still saw me as useless. After Liam left, Ivy comforted me. “Don’t be mad at him, that’s just how he is. I’ll teach him a lesson later!” Ivy pulled me along to tour the safe zone. She told me about her experiences these past few years. Then she badgered me with many questions. We sat on the bed, chatting late into the night. Ivy grew sleepy and rested her head on my shoulder, falling asleep. The comments were sarcastic. [The drama queen side character doesn’t even know her value is just to warm the male lead’s bed? Now she’s not even returning to the male lead’s room? Staying here with her best friend?] [I can only say she’s asking for trouble.] [I can’t wait for the female lead to come online!] [Here are two beautiful photos of the female lead to feast your eyes on, hehe.] I stared into the void, my gaze sharpening. The two pictures that popped up in the comments caught my attention. It was a girl with a delicate yet heroic face. But, she looked so familiar! 6. Just before going to sleep, I suddenly sat up with a jolt. I remembered where I had seen that girl… Half a month ago, a girl tried to steal my crystal core and my ability when I was weak. I killed her in self-defense. So, it was her. Was she the female lead? But I had already killed her… Before I could fully process it, a piercing alarm suddenly blared outside. Someone shouted, “Zombie horde! Ability users, prepare to engage! Unawakened, find cover!” Ivy woke with a start and grabbed my hand. “Seraphina, don’t be scared.” “Come with me, I’ll find Liam. He’ll protect us.” She pulled me off the bed… but I didn’t move. I gripped her wrist in return. Ivy looked back at me, confused. I looked into her eyes. “You follow me. I’ll protect you.” Ivy froze. But she didn’t have time to think much, only saying, “Let’s go to the underground mine first.” The zombie horde was coming with fierce momentum. Some zombies would cross the defenses and enter the safe zone. They had a certain level of intelligence, knew how to hide, so ability users needed to conduct a thorough search of the safe zone after repelling the horde. During this time, unawakened individuals generally hid in the underground mine. We rushed out of the room without stopping and ran towards the underground mine. Along the way were unawakened individuals like Ivy. Some were with their families, looking anxious but not overly panicked. After all, such events happened every few days, and with powerful ability users present, they weren’t too afraid. My heart, however, gradually sank. The unawakened in this safe zone trusted the ability users too much… I turned to look at Ivy, unable to help but frown. During this time, I had carefully observed her and Liam. I found that Ivy’s dramatic tendencies were all within Liam’s tacit approval. Some, in fact, were even intentionally indulged by Liam. Liam was good to her, and by extension, the unawakened in the entire safe zone received much better treatment, which then squeezed the benefits that ability users should have enjoyed. Those ability users felt discontent, but they wouldn’t resent all the unawakened or Liam. Instead, they directed their anger towards Ivy. And those unawakened wouldn’t thank Ivy; their gratitude went to Liam. So they supported Liam’s management of the safe zone even more, diligently planting vegetables and food, willingly providing supplies. Liam was using Ivy. Did Ivy… realize any of this? My grip on her wrist tightened. In a moment of distraction, an accident suddenly occurred. Just a second before we were about to enter the underground mine, a zombie that had been hiding in the shadows suddenly lunged out. It snarled and pounced on Ivy, who was frozen in terror, standing motionless. I yanked her wrist, pulling her back forcefully, and using the momentum, I stepped into the spot where she had just been. “Seraphina!” Ivy cried out in alarm. Before her words finished, I had already plunged a knife into the zombie’s eye socket, completely destroying its brain. 7. Inside the underground mine, Ivy kept looking at me, her eyes shining slightly. Her gaze made me chuckle wryly. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been surviving on my own for so many years; I still have some tricks to stay alive.” Ivy hugged me tightly. “Seraphina, you’re amazing! Seraphina… you’ve suffered so much these past years.” My heart softened, and I patted her back. I still hadn’t revealed my identity as an ability user. I had no doubt that once Liam discovered my ability, he wouldn’t easily let me leave here. And I needed to get Ivy out of here as soon as possible. Outside, the commotion continued. Ivy and I hid in the underground mine. I watched the rapidly scrolling comments above and began to think furiously. [Something’s wrong. The zombie horde is almost gone, how come the female lead hasn’t appeared yet?] [I’ve been waiting to see the female lead make a heroic entrance and save the male lead for so long! Where is she?] [Didn’t you guys notice what’s happening with the drama queen side character? Her cannon fodder best friend isn’t dead!] [What? So the drama queen side character won’t quarrel with the male lead? How come the entire subsequent plot is messed up?!] … Amidst their chattering discussions, I finally figured out the truth. In the original plot, the female lead successfully stole my ability, and I became a weak ordinary person, losing my powers. I miraculously survived and reunited with Ivy, but died in a zombie horde shortly after reaching the safe zone. As for the female lead, she used my lightning ability to help the male lead solve a small crisis during the zombie horde, was invited to join his team, and from then on, they fought side by side, their feelings gradually deepening. Ivy, distraught by my death, became unreasonable and blamed the male lead. She even deliberately left without a word, wanting the male lead to come looking for her. The male lead couldn’t stand her. When she acted out again, he didn’t go after her immediately. This time, Ivy didn’t make it back alive. The drama queen side character thus went offline. And I, was pure cannon fodder. But now… [The plot has changed! What’s going on?!] [Oh my god, oh my god! The author just announced that the plot has deviated severely, and she can no longer control the story’s direction. It seems a paper character has developed self-awareness!] [The person above, you missed the main point! The main point is the female lead is dead! The female lead is dead!!] [I’m numb. What is this? A super disastrous ending?] [This is so exciting! Now no one knows the plot’s direction. It’s like opening a blind box. I must keep following!] My heart pounded. I turned to look at a sleepy Ivy, my heart beating furiously in my chest. Could the meaning of those comments be… that our predetermined fate could be changed! Or rather, it already had changed! 8. I started to waver. I didn’t know if I should still take Ivy away now. Without the female lead… would Liam truly be devoted to Ivy? Would she be safer with Liam than with me? After all, I was alone. But what happened next solidified my decision to take Ivy away. … In the latter half of the night, the zombie horde was completely repelled. The ability users had also thoroughly searched the safe zone, confirming there was no danger. We walked out of the underground mine. And ran straight into the returning team of ability users. It was clear that the zombie horde that day had been fierce. Most of them looked battered, especially Liam. He was being supported by a man beside him, likely having exhausted his abilities. Ivy ran over, a little worried. “Liam, are you okay?” Her hands ran up and down Liam’s body, checking his injuries. Liam’s gaze at her gradually darkened. He cupped Ivy’s face and kissed her lips. The two embraced and kissed in front of everyone. Having survived a close call, I found it a bit distasteful but understandable. But gradually, the catcalls grew louder, especially from the men watching. And Liam’s actions became more and more unrestrained and bold. His hand moved to Ivy’s thigh, even attempting to go further… Ivy’s slight struggle caused her loosely worn jacket to slip to her shoulders. She was about to be exposed. I could see she was extremely uncomfortable, so I rushed out without hesitation, pulling Ivy out of Liam’s embrace, and the next second, I pulled her clothes back into place. Liam froze for a moment, not yet reacting, when he was slapped across the face. It was Ivy who slapped him. The crisp sound of the slap instantly froze the heated atmosphere. Everyone exchanged glances, and strong displeasure appeared on the faces of the ability users. “Damn it, Liam works so hard guarding the safe zone, only to come back and be slapped by a woman. This is too frustrating!” “I feel bad for Liam.” “This woman is too much…” Liam’s face also darkened. He looked at Ivy, a forced smile on his lips. “Are you mad?” “Alright,” he sighed. “My actions were too rough, I apologize.” His attitude was completely dismissive. Ivy’s eyes were red, she ignored him, turned and walked away. I followed her. After a few steps, I couldn’t help but stop again. Turning to look at Liam, my expression was somewhat cold. “You don’t respect her.” Liam paused, then let out an ambiguous scoff.

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1 I saw the box of condoms in Simon’s bag, and my hands started to tremble. Married for seven years, we’d been sleeping in separate rooms for three. His mother said I was paranoid. His sister rolled her eyes: “My brother works overtime every day; how would he have time to cheat? Are you okay, sister-in-law?” Simon stood by, saying nothing. I didn’t make a scene either. That night, I packed my bags. The next day, I slapped the divorce papers onto his office desk. He froze: “Just because of a box of condoms? I told you, a colleague left it in my car.” “Fine,” I nodded. “Then let that colleague explain it to me.” He fell silent. His entire family took turns trying to persuade me not to be “difficult.” My mother even called: “He doesn’t hit you, he doesn’t curse you, and he gives you all his earnings. What more do you want?” What do I want? I just suddenly remembered that on our wedding night, when he was drunk, he’d hugged me and called out another name. I pretended not to hear. I pretended for seven years. … I’d taken a photo of that box of condoms and saved it on my phone. A pack of three, one opened, two remaining. I hadn’t used them. Simon never had the chance to use them either. It wasn’t that I wasn’t willing; he always had an excuse. Overtime fatigue, too much drinking at client dinners, an early start tomorrow. Eventually, he stopped even making excuses, just showered and went into the guest room, shutting the door. Before I fell asleep, I’d hear the sound of short videos from there, sometimes the same video on repeat several times, sometimes him sending voice messages, his voice kept very low. I never asked him who he was talking to. Asking would only make it seem like I cared too much. When his mother came to persuade me, I was tidying his closet. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching me fold his winter sweaters one by one, her mouth never still: “Honestly, you, living a perfectly good life, insisting on causing trouble. You know what Simon’s temper is like, don’t you? If he were really doing something, would he let you find that?!” I didn’t speak. She continued: “I asked him, and he said it was a colleague’s. The colleague was in his car and left it there. Men, you know, a simple explanation for something like that should be enough, but you keep harping on it. Of course he’s annoyed with you.” I put a sweater into a storage bin and looked up at her. “Mom, what kind of colleague leaves condoms in someone else’s car?” She froze for a second, her expression shifting, then she stood up to leave. At the doorway, she tossed back: “You always want to think the worst. I can’t be bothered with you.” His sister was even more direct. She posted a long message in the family group chat. I didn’t read it all, only scanned the last few lines: “…sister-in-law, don’t be too much. If my brother really had someone else, he’d have divorced you already. Would he need to hide it? Do you think you’re so special?” I left the group. Simon came home very late that night, past eleven. I was sitting in the living room, the TV on without sound. He saw me when he took off his shoes, paused, said nothing, and walked straight to the guest room. “Simon,” I called him. He stopped, not turning around. “That box of condoms, whose was it?” He was silent for a few seconds, then turned. On his face was the same gentle, flawless expression I’d seen for seven years. “I told you, it was a colleague’s. A Mr. Brooks, you’ve met him. The one who sat next to me at the company dinner last time.” I looked at him. He looked back at me, his gaze open and honest. So honest that I almost believed him. “Then have him tell me,” I said. “Right now, call him.” His brow furrowed, that gentleness finally cracking. “Are you crazy?” I didn’t say anything. He continued: “I explained, but you don’t believe me, insisting on making such a scene? It’s just a box of condoms. I didn’t actually do anything. Is it really worth this?” Just a box of condoms. I didn’t actually do anything. I stared at his face, suddenly feeling like he was a stranger. Seven years ago, on our wedding day, he was drunk. In our bridal suite, he hugged me and called out “Ava.” Not my name. I froze, and he froze too. In that instant, his eyes cleared for a second, then he hugged me tighter, mumbling he was just drunk, not to take it seriously. I did take it seriously. But I never asked. Ava, I found out later, was his college girlfriend. They dated for three or four years, broke up after graduation. I’d seen photos: round face, single eyelids, eyes curving into two lines when she smiled. Completely different from me. I thought marriage would fix things. Hearts are made of flesh and blood; with time, they warm up. I cooked for him, washed his clothes, bore him a son, and cared for his mother. The month his mother was hospitalized, I rushed to the hospital every day after work. Even the family members of the patient in the next bed praised my filial piety. He held my hand then and said, “You’ve worked so hard.” I thought he was sincere. Now, looking back, it might have just been politeness. I wrote the divorce papers myself. I found a template online, tweaked a few things, and printed out two copies. He came home early that day, saw the documents on the coffee table, and picked them up to read. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” He put the papers down, sat opposite me, and lit a cigarette. We’d been married for seven years; he never smoked inside the house. “Fine,” he said, exhaling smoke. “What do you want? Just say it.” I looked at him, my eyes suddenly burning. Not with sadness. But with the realization of my own foolishness. He didn’t even try to stop me. “I don’t want anything,” I said. “Our son stays with me. You can keep everything else.” He paused. “You don’t want anything?” “No.” He took another puff of his cigarette, then fell silent. After a long time, he stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray, stood up, and walked towards the guest room. At the doorway, he stopped. “That box of condoms,” he said, his back to me, his voice very low, “it was hers.” I clenched my fingers. “Her name is Ava.” I knew. “We’ve been together for six months. I didn’t mean to hide it from you; I just didn’t know how to tell you.” I closed my eyes. “Is there anything else you want to ask?” I shook my head. He couldn’t see, but he seemed to sense it. He pushed the door open and went into the guest room. The door closed softly. I sat in the living room for a long time, the TV still silent. Later, I stood up and stood by the guest room door for a while. No sound from inside. I went back to the master bedroom and locked the door. The next morning, he left for work. I heard him open the front door, then soft footsteps, stopping at the master bedroom door. He waited a few seconds. Then he left. I stayed in bed until noon, then got up and glanced into the guest room. The blanket was neatly folded. On the bedside table lay the divorce papers, signed. A box of cigarettes was tucked next to it. I picked it up; it was empty. The ashtray was full of butts. 2 The day I moved out, his mother called. I had just stuffed my suitcase into the trunk when my phone vibrated in my bag. I pulled it out; her name. I answered. Before I could speak, she launched into it. “You think you’re so tough now, don’t you? Just up and leave, did you even ask the Campbell family?” I leaned against the car door, looking up at the window of the apartment we’d lived in for seven years. The curtains were drawn. “How has Simon ever wronged you? He gives you his paychecks, never goes out womanizing, just lies around at home—that’s because he’s tired! But you, you find one little thing and cause a scene, making such a fuss that you divorce. How do you expect relatives and friends to look at our family?” I said, “Mom, he cheated.” There was a second of silence. “Cheated on what? He didn’t do anything with that woman, just chatted and had meals. He told me himself. Men, you know, it’s normal to have someone to talk to outside. You’re always at home, controlling everything. He’s under a lot of pressure; what’s wrong with him finding someone to confide in?” I gripped my phone, my fingers a little stiff. “He said they didn’t have sex. Those condoms were bought but not used. You didn’t catch him in the act, so why are you making accusations?” I wanted to say, not used because he didn’t have time to use them yet, right? But I didn’t. It wouldn’t have made a difference. “Alright, alright, if you want to divorce, then divorce. Don’t regret it later. With your temper, who would ever want you?” The call ended. I stood for a moment, then tossed my phone into my bag, got in the car, and started the engine. As I drove out of the complex, the window in the rearview mirror grew smaller and smaller. I didn’t cry. Later, I learned that his mother’s words weren’t just spoken in anger. She truly believed no one would want me. The day the divorce was finalized, I ran into his sister at the registry office. She was arm-in-arm with her boyfriend. They had just gotten their marriage certificate, smiles on their faces. When she saw me, her smile faltered, then she rolled her eyes. “Oh, sister-in-law—no, ex-sister-in-law,” she intentionally drew out the words. “Today’s a good day, we both got our papers.” I ignored her and walked past. She scoffed behind me, her voice not too loud, but just enough for me to hear: “Keep acting up, you’ll end up a two-time divorcee. See who wants you then.” I stopped. Turned to look at her. She seemed a little nervous, hiding behind her boyfriend. I didn’t say anything, just turned and got in my car. Actually, I couldn’t blame her for saying that. The Campbells had always spoken that way. The first year of marriage, his mother and I argued over a small matter. His sister chimed in, telling me, an outsider, not to be ungrateful. Simon was standing there then, and he didn’t say a word. Later, I asked him, “Your sister said I was an outsider, why didn’t you say anything?” He said, “That’s just how she is. Don’t pay her any mind.” I said, “Then what am I?” He looked at me, a hint of helplessness in his eyes. “You’re my wife.” I believed him then.

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